The Love-Chase | Page 5

my health!
"A bumper, sirs, to neighbour Constance!"--Do! - And give it with a
speech, wherein unfold My many graces, more accomplishments, And
virtues topping either--in a word, How I'm the fairest, kindest, best of
neighbours!
[They go out severally.--TRUEWORTH trying to pacify
WILDRAKE-- CONSTANCE laughing.]

ACT II.

SCENE I.--A Room in Sir William's House.
[Enter TRUEWORTH and WILDRAKE.]
Wild. Nay, Master Trueworth, I must needs be gone! She treats me
worse and worse! I am a stock, That words have none to pay her. For
her sake I quit the town to-day. I like a jest, But hers are jests past
bearing. I am her butt, She nothing does but practise on! A plague! -
Fly her shafts ever your way?
True. Would they did!
Wild. Art mad?--or wishest she should drive thee so?
True. Thou knowest her not.
Wild. I know not neighbour Constance? Then know I not myself, or
anything Which as myself I know!
True. Heigh ho!
Wild. Heigh ho! Why what a burden that for a man's song! Would fit a
maiden that was sick for love. Heigh ho! Come ride with me to
Lincolnshire, And turn thy "Heigh ho!" into "hilly ho!"
True. Nay, rather tarry thou in town with me. Men sometimes find a
friend's hand of avail, When useless proves their own. Wilt lend me
thine?
Wild. Or may my horse break down in a steeple-chase!
True. A steeple-chase. What made thee think of that? I'm for the
steeple--not to ride a race, Only to get there!--nor alone, in sooth, But
in fair company.

Wild. Thou'rt not in love!
True. Heigh ho!
Wild. Thou wouldst not marry!
True. With your help.
Wild. And whom, I prithee?
True. Gentle Mistress Constance!
Wild. What!--neighbour Constance?--Never did I dream That mortal
man would fall in love with her. [Aside.] In love with neighbour
Constance!--I feel strange At thought that she should marry!--[Aside.]
Go to church With neighbour Constance! That's a steeple-chase I never
thought of. I feel very strange! What seest in neighbour Constance?
True. Lovers' eyes See with a vision proper to themselves; Yet
thousand eyes will vouch what mine affirm. First, then, I see in her the
mould express Of woman--stature, feature, body, limb - Breathing the
gentle sex we value most, When most 'tis at antipodes with ours!
Wild. You mean that neighbour Constance is a woman. Why, yes; she
is a woman, certainly.
True. So much for person. Now for her complexion. What shall we
liken to her dainty skin? Her arm, for instance? -
Wild. Snow will match it.
True. Snow! It is her arm without the smoothness on't; Then is not
snow transparent. 'Twill not do.
Wild. A pearl's transparent!
True. So it is, but yet Yields not elastic to the thrilled touch! I know not
what to liken to her arm Except her beauteous fellow! Oh! to be The
chosen friend of two such neighbours!

Wild. Would His tongue would make a halt. He makes too free With
neighbour Constance! Can't he let her arms Alone! I trust their chosen
friend Will ne'er be he! I'm vexed. [Aside.]
True. But graceful things Grow doubly graceful in the graceful use!
Hast marked her ever walk the drawing-room?
Wild. [Snappishly.] No.
True. No! Why, where have been your eyes?
Wild. In my head! But I begin to doubt if open yet. [Aside.]
True. Yet that's a trifle to the dance; down which She floats as though
she were a form of air; The ground feels not her foot, or tells not on't;
Her movements are the painting of the strain, Its swell, its fall, its mirth,
its tenderness! Then is she fifty Constances!--each moment Another
one, and each, except its fellow, Without a peer! You have danced with
her!
Wild. I hate To dance! I can't endure to dance!--Of course You have
danced with her?
True. I have.
Wild. You have?
True. I have.
Wild. I do abominate to dance!--could carve Fiddlers and company! A
dancing man To me was ever like a dancing dog! Save less to be
endured.--Ne'er saw I one But I bethought me of the master's whip.
True. A man might bear the whip to dance with her!
Wild. Not if I had the laying of it on!
True. Well; let that pass. The lady is the theme.

Wild. Yes; make an end of it!--I'm sick of it. [Aside.]
True. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp! How well she sings
to them! Whoe'er would prove The power of song, should hear thy
neighbour sing, Especially a love-song!
Wild. Does she sing Such songs to thee?
True. Oh, yes, and constantly. For such I ever ask her.
Wild. Forward minx! [Aside.] Maids should not sing love-songs to
gentlemen! Think'st neighbour Constance is a girl to love?
True. A