nor of it, thee, and everything!

[Goes out.]

_Sir Wil_. She is over head and ears in love with me!
She's mad with love! There's love and all its signs!
She's jealous of me unto very death!
Poor Widow Green! I warrant she is now
In tears! I think I hear her sob! Poor thing!
Sir William! Oh, Sir William! You have raised
A furious tempest! Set your wits to work
To turn it to a calm. No question that
She loves me! None then that she'll take me! So
I'll have the marriage settlements made out
To-morrow, and a special licence got,
And marry her the next day! I will make
Quick work of it, and take her by surprise!
Who but a widower a widow's match?
What could she see with else but partial eyes
To guess me only forty? I'm a wonder!
What shall I pass for in my wedding suit?
I vow I am a puzzle to myself,
As well as all the world besides. Odd's life!
To win the heart of buxom Widow Green!

[Goes out.]

[WIDOW GREEN re-enters with LYDIA.]

_W. Green_. At last the dotard's gone! Fly, Lydia, fly,
This letter bear to Master Waller straight;
Quick, quick, or I'm undone! He is abused,
And I must undeceive him--own my love,
And heart and hand at his disposal lay.
Answer me not, my girl--obey me! Fly.

[Goes out.]

_Lydia_. Untowardly it falls!--I had resolved
This hour to tell her I must quit her service!
Go to his house! I will not disobey
Her last commands!--I'll leave it at the door,
And as it closes on me think I take
One more adieu of him! Hard destiny!

[Goes out.]

SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William's.

[Enter CONSTANCE.]

_Con_. The booby! He must fall in love, indeed!
And now he's naught but sentimental looks
And sentences, pronounced 'twixt breath and voice!
And attitudes of tender languishment!
Nor can I get from him the name of her
Hath turned him from a stock into a fool.
He hems and haws, now titters, now looks grave!
Begins to speak and halts! takes off his eyes
To fall in contemplation on a chair,
A table, or the ceiling, wall, or floor!
I'll plague him worse and worse! O, here he comes!

[Enter WILDRAKE.]

_Wild_. Despite her spiteful usage I'm resolved
To tell her now. Dear neighbour Constance!

_Con_. Fool!
Accost me like a lady, sir! I hate
The name of neighbour!

_Wild_. Mistress Constance, then--
I'll call thee that.

_Con_. Don't call me anything!
I hate to hear thee speak--to look at thee,
To dwell in the same house with thee!

_Wild_. In