A Select Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 09 · Chapter 23Wily Beguiled.[140] (5)
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GRIPE. Marry, because you told me a merry goose case, I'll bestow a fat goose on ye, and God give you good luck.
MOTHER MIDNIGHT. Marry, well-said, old master: e'en God give them joy indeed; for, by my vay, they are a good, sweet young couple.
WILL CRICKET. Granam, stand out o' the way; for here come gentlefolk will run o'er you else.
Enter FORTUNATUS, SOPHOS, and LELIA.
NURSE. Master, here comes your son again.
GRIPE. Is Fortunatus there? Welcome, Fortunatus: Where's Sophos?
FORTUNATUS. Here Sophos is, as much o'erworn with love, As you with grief for loss of Lelia.
SOPHOS. And ten times more, if it be possible: The love of Lelia is to me more dear, Than is a kingdom or the richest crown That e'er adorn'd the temples of a king.
GRIPE. Thou welcome, Sophos—thrice more welcome now, Than any man on earth—to me or mine: It is not now with me as late it was; I low'r'd at learning, and at virtue spurn'd: But now my heart and mind, and all, is turn'd. Were Lelia here, I soon would knit the knot 'Twixt her and thee, that time could ne'er untie, Till fatal sisters victory had won, And that your glass of life were quite outrun.
WILL CRICKET. Zounds, I think he be spurblind; why, Lelia stands hard by him.
LELIA. And Lelia here falls prostrate on her knee, And craves a pardon for her late offence.
GRIPE. What, Lelia my daughter? Stand up, wench: Why, now my joy is full; My heart is lighten'd of all sad annoy: Now fare well, grief, and welcome home, my joy.— Here, Sophos, take thy Lelia's hand: Great God of heav'n your hearts combine, In virtue's lore to raise a happy line.
SOPHOS. Now Phaeton hath check'd his fiery steeds, And quench'd his burning beams that late were wont To melt my waxen wings, when as I soar'd aloft; And lovely Venus smiles with fair aspect Upon the spring-time of our sacred love. Thou great commander of the circled orbs, Grant that this league of lasting amity May lie recorded by eternity.
LELIA. Then wish'd content knit up our nuptial right; And future joys our former griefs requite.
WILL CRICKET. Nay, and you be good at that, I'll tell you what we'll do: Peg and I must be married to-morrow; and if you will, we'll go all to the church together, and so save Sir John a labour.
ALL. Agreed.
FORTUNATUS. Then march along, and let's be gone, To solemnise two marriages in one.
[Exeunt omnes.