Part 17 (2/2)
My Geraldine, your niece, is she not married?
DELAWAR. Nor like to be, poor wench, but to her grave, If mourning for false lovers break maids' hearts.
PERCY. Was she then true? O madman! idiot!
To let the feeble breath of empty rumour Drive me from heavenly happiness!
DELAWAR. Poor girl!
She fain would have embark'd with me.
PERCY. Ah, sir!
Why did she not?
DELAWAR. Marry, sir, I forbade her: The rough voyage would have shook her slender health To dissolution.
GERALDINE. Pardon, sir; not so--
DELAWAR. How now, pert page?
GERALDINE. For here she is, my lord.
And the rough voyage has giv'n her a new life.
PERCY. My Geraldine!
DELAWAR. My niece! O brazenface!
Approach me not; fly from your uncle's anger; Fly to your husband's arms for shelter, hussy!
[_GERALDINE flies to PERCY'S embrace._
PERCY. Oh! speechless transport! mute let me infold thee!
DELAWAR. [_To KATE._] And you, my little spark, perhaps, your cloak Covers another duteous niece--or daughter.
Speak, lady: for I see that t.i.tle writ In crimson characters upon your cheek.
Art of my blood?
LARRY. No, sir, she's of my flesh; Flesh of my flesh, my lord. Now, arrah, Kate, Don't blush. This goodly company all knows My flesh may wear the breeches, without scandal.
WALTER. Listen not, Alice, to his sophistry.
Sir, if our good wives learn this argument, They'll logically pluck away our--
ALICE. Tut: Fear ye not that; for when a woman would, She'll draw them on without a rule of reason.
DELAWAR. Methinks 'tis pairing time among the turtles.
Who have we here?
_ROBIN and NIMA come forward._
ROBIN. A pair of pigeons, sir; or rather a robin and a dove. A wild thing, sir, that I caught in the wood here. But when I have clipt her wings, and tamed her, I hope (without offence to this good company) that we shall bill without biting more than our neighbours.
SMITH. Joy to ye, gentle lovers; joy to all; A goodly circle, and a fair. Methinks Wild Nature smooths apace her savage frown, Moulding her features to a social smile.
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