Duke. Welcome, Philidor.
Phil. I am glad
To see joy in your looks again, sir;
The time is long since I have seen you smile.
Duke. Philidor, all that is joy I have within
This breast; it overflows
And runs into my eyes. This is my sister!
(O, what a word is sister!) and this my dear
And true Amphelia.
Come, Mirida shall be thine to-day too. [To Philidor.
Mir. Hold, sir, I forbid that banns.
Phil. Troth, so do I too; you always
Take the words out of my mouth.
You and I marry, quotha!
Mir. No, faith, we'll be hang'd first. I'd
Rather hear a long sermon, than
Hear a parson ask me: Mirida,
Will you have this man for your
Wedded husband, to have and to hold,
From this day forward, and so forth.
Phil. Right, for better for worse, in
Sickness or in health.
Mir. Ay, and perhaps after we have been
Married half a year, one's
Husband falls into a deep consumption,
And will not do one the favour to
Die neither, then we must be
Ever feeding him with caudles.
O, from a husband in a consumption
Deliver me!
Phil. And think how weary I should be
Of thee, Mirida, when once we were
Chain'd together: the very name of
Wife would be a vomit to me: then
Nothing but, where's my wife? call
My wife to dinner, call my wife to supper;
And then at night, come, wife, will you
Go to bed?
Mir. Ay, and that would be so troublesome
To be call'd by one's husband every night
To go to bed. O, that dull, dull
Name of husband!
Duke. Indeed you two are well met,
The world has not two more such,
I am confident.
Mir. The more the pity, sir.
Phil. No, sir, if you please, never propose
Marrying to us, till both of us have
Committed such faults as are death
By the law; then instead of
Hanging us, marry us.
Mir. And then you shall hear how
Earnestly we shall petition your
Highness to be hang'd rather than
Married.
Duke. No man can judge which is the
Wildest of these two.
Now, brave Arbatus, in all my dukedom
There is but one gift worthy thy
Receiving, and that's my sister;
Here, sir, take her as freely as heaven
Gave her me.
Arb. D'ye forgive me, sir?
Duke. Or not myself, Arbatus.
This day Hymen shall light his torch for all.
Phil. With your pardon, sir, not for me
And my female?
Mir. No, faith, I'll blow it out,
If he does.
Art. Sir, though in my own desires
I should have chose the man that you have given me,
Yet I beg we may not marry yet; we have
Call'd brother and sister so long, that yet
We needs must think we are so still.
Arb. Pray, madam,
Let's think so as little a while as we can,
That fancy may not keep my joy in prison.
Duke. Let's to the temple now, and there thank
Heaven for these unexpected joys.
Each day the gods shall lend me in this life,
I'll thank them for a sister and a wife. [Exeunt.