The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 4: Poems and PlaysLamb, Charles
General
The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 4: Poems and Plays
Lamb, Charles
English drama; English poetry
SELBY
Sweet wife
Use thy own pleasure--_[Exit Katherine.]_
but it troubles me.
A visit of three days, as was pretended,
Spun to ten tedious weeks, and no hint given
When she will go! I would this buxom Widow
Were a thought handsomer! I'd fairly try
My Katherine's constancy; make desperate love
In seeming earnest; and raise up such broils,
That she, not I, should be the first to warn
The insidious guest depart.
_Re-enter Katherine._
So soon return'd!
What was our Widow's will?
KATHERINE
A trifle, Sir.
SELBY
Some toilet service-to adjust her head,
Or help to stick a pin in the right place--
KATHERINE
Indeed 'twas none of these.
SELBY
or new vamp up
The tarnish'd cloak she came in. I have seen her
Demand such service from thee, as her maid,
Twice told to do it, would blush angry-red,
And pack her few clothes up. Poor fool! fond slave!
And yet my dearest Kate!--This day at least
(It is our wedding-day) we spend in freedom,
And will forget our Widow.--Philip, our coach--
Why weeps my wife? You know, I promised you
An airing o'er the pleasant Hampshire downs
To the blest cottage on the green hill side,
Where first I told my love. I wonder much,
If the crimson parlour hath exchanged its hue
For colours not so welcome. Faded though it be,
It will not shew less lovely than the tinge
Of this faint red, contending with the pale,
Where once the full-flush'd health gave to this cheek
An apt resemblance to the fruit's warm side,
That bears my Katherine's name.--
Our carriage, Philip.
_Enter a Servant_.
Now, Robin, what make you here?
SERVANT
May it please you,
The coachman has driven out with Mrs. Frampton.
SELBY
He had no orders--
SERVANT
None, Sir, that I know of,
But from the lady, who expects some letter
At the next Post Town.
SELBY
Go, Robin.
[_Exit Servant_.]
How is this?
KATHERINE
I came to tell you so, but fear'd your anger--
SELBY
It was ill done though of this Mistress Frampton,
This forward Widow. But a ride's poor loss
Imports not much. In to your chamber, love,
Where you with music may beguile the hour,
While I am tossing over dusty tomes,
Till our most reasonable friend returns.
KATHERINE
I am all obedience. [_Exit Katherine_]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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