Let him wed her!
Marry her to-morrow--if he will, to-night.
I can't spare neighbour Wildrake--neighbour Wildrake!
Although I would not marry him myself,
I could not hear that other married him!
Go to my father--'tis a proper match!
He has my leave! He's welcome to bring home
The Widow Green. I'll give up house and all!
She would be mad to marry neighbour Wildrake;
He would wear out her patience--plague her to death,
As he does me. She must not marry him!
[They go out.]
ACT III.
SCENE I.--A Room in Widow Green's.
[Enter MASTER WALLER, following LYDIA.]
Wal. But thou shalt hear me, gentle Lydia.
Sweet maiden, thou art frightened at thyself!
Thy own perfections 'tis that talk to thee.
Thy beauty rich!--thy richer grace!--thy mind,
More rich again than that, though richest each!
Except for these, I had no tongue for thee,
Eyes for thee!--ears!--had never followed thee! -
Had never loved thee, Lydia! Hear me! -
Lydia. Love
Should seek its match. No match am I for thee.
Wal. Right! Love should seek its match; and that is, love
Or nothing! Station--fortune--find their match
In things resembling them. They are not love!
Comes love (that subtle essence, without which
Life were but leaden dulness!--weariness!
A plodding trudger on a heavy road!)
Comes it of title-deeds which fools may boast?
Or coffers vilest hands may hold the keys of?
Or that ethereal lamp that lights the eyes
To shed the sparkling lustre o'er the face,
Gives to the velvet skin its blushing glow,
And burns as bright beneath the peasant's roof
As roof of palaced prince? Yes, Love should seek
Its match--then give my love its match in thine,
Its match which in thy gentle breast doth lodge
So rich--so earthly, heavenly fair and rich,
As monarchs have no thought of on their thrones,
Which kingdoms do bear up.
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