Delavil. I do not think but this fellow in time may for his wit and understanding make almanacks. Clown. Not so, sir, you being more judicious than I, I’ll give you the pre-eminence in that, because I see by proof you have such judgment in times and seasons. Delavil. And why in times and seasons? Clown. Because you have so seasonably made choice to come so just at dinner-time. You are welcome, gentlemen; I’ll go tell my master of your coming. [_Exit_. Delavil. A pleasant knave. Young Geraldine. This fellow I perceive Is well acquainted with his master’s mind. Oh ’tis a good old man. Delavil. And she a lady For beauty and for virtue unparalleled, Nor can you name that thing to grace a woman She has not in a full perfection. Though in their years might seem disparity, And therefore at the first a match unfit, Imagine but his age and government, Withal her modesty and chaste respect; Betwixt them there’s so sweet a sympathy As crowns a noble marriage. Young Geraldine. ’Tis acknowledged; But to the worthy gentleman himself I am so bound in many courtesies, That not the least, by all the expression My labour or my industry can show, I will know how to cancel. Delavil. Oh, you are modest. Young Geraldine. He studies to engross me to himself, And is so wedded to my company, He makes me stranger to my father’s house, Although so near a neighbour. Delavil. This approves you To be most nobly propertied, that from one So exquisite in judgment, can attract So affectionate an eye. Young Geraldine. Your character I must bestow on his unmerited love, As one that know I have it, and yet ignorant Which way I should deserve it: here both come. _Enter_ Old Wincott, _his_ Wife, _and_ Prudentilla. Wincott. Gentlemen, welcome; but what need I use A word so common, unto such to whom My house was never private? I expect You should not look for such a needless phrase, Especially you, Master Geraldine; Your father is my neighbour, and I know you Even from the cradle; then I loved your infancy, And since your riper growth bettered by travel: My wife and you in youth were play-fellows, And must not now be strangers; as I take it, Not above two years different in your age. Wife. So much he hath outstripped me. Wincott. I would have you Think this your home, free as your father’s house, And to command it, as the master on’t; Call boldly here, and entertain your friends, As in your own possessions: when I see’t, I’ll say you love me truly, not till then; Oh, what a happiness your father hath, Far above me!--one to inherit after him, Where I (Heaven knows) am childless. Young Geraldine. That defect Heaven hath supplied in this your virtuous wife, Both fair, and full of all accomplishments; My father is a widower, and herein Your happiness transcends him.