FITZ. And why, good daughter? hath some palmister, Some augur, or some dreaming calculator (For such, I know, you often hearken to), Been prating 'gainst the name? go to, go to; Do not believe them. Leicester, fall to woo. MAT. I must believe my father; and 'tis you That, if I ought misdid, reprov'd me still, And chiding said, "You're wedded to your will." FITZ. God, for thy mercy! have ye catch'd me there? Wigmore is William, woman. Leicester, speak: Thou art the simplest wooer in the world. LEI. You have put me out, and she hath took me down; You with your talk, she with her ready tongue. You told me I should find her mild and still, And scarce a word came from her in an hour: Then did I think I should have all the talk, Unhinder'd by your willingness to help, Unanswer'd, till I had no more to say; And then-- YOUNG B. What, then? She with a courtly court'sy saying Nay! MAT. Your friend's attorney might have gone his way With as great credit as did that orator Which, handling an oration some three hours, Ill for the matter, worse than bad for phrase, Having said _dixi_, look'd, and found not one To praise or dispraise his oration; For, wearied with his talk, they all were gone. FITZ. Now, by my troth, if any troth I have, I am as merry at Matilda's mirth, As I was glad to see her first day's birth. For till this hour, so help me halidom,[310] Since the too timely death of Huntington, Not a blithe word had passage through her lips. LEI. See, what a pleasing humour wooers bring. YOUNG B. O, but ye leave too soon. LEI. Yet she avers I stand too long: shall I choose yours or hers? MAT. Either forbear, I pray ye, for a while. _Enter_ RICHMOND.[311] Welcome, Lord Richmond. RICH. What, doth Matilda smile, That still like silence solitary sat? Then off with widow's weeds, and teach your feet (That have forgot for want of exercise, And by the means your sorrow had no mean) To tread a measure for a gallant crew Of courtly masquers landed at the stairs; Before whom, unentreated, I am come, And have prevented, I believe, their page, Who with his torch is enter'd. FITZ. Richmond, thanks, If you have aught to say about the masquers. Beseech the gentlemen to enter in, For they are welcome guests to old Fitzwater. [_Exit Messenger_. Son, son, I pray you fetch the ladies in: We have been talking here about a match, And left our noble friends in discontent. RICH. Nay, by my faith we had much merriment, Yet thought it long you neither came nor sent. [MATILDA _faints, and sits down_. FITZ. How now, Matilda? pray thee, cheer thee, girl. MAT. I thought it was a lightening before death,[312] Too sudden to be certain. Good pleasure, stay. _Enter Ladies_. Wilt thou not, wanton? churl, then go thy way. RICH. What, chang'd so soon? so soon fallen to your dumps? Cheerly! the masque comes in. [_Enter the Masque_.]