Act the Fifth
Scene I Outside Old Wincott’s House
Enter Old Geraldine and Young Geraldine.
Old Geraldine.
Son, let me tell you, you are ill advised,
And doubly to be blamed, by undertaking
Unnecessary travel, grounding no reason
For such a rash and giddy enterprise.
What profit aim you at, you have not reaped?
What novelty affords the Christian world,
Of which your view hath not participated
In a full measure? Can you either better
Your language or experience? Your self-will
Hath only purpose to deprive a father
Of a loved son, and many noble friends
Of your much-wished acquaintance.
Young Geraldine.
Oh, dear sir,
Do not, I do entreat you, now repent you
Of your free grant, which with such care and study
I have so long, so often laboured for.
Old Geraldine.
Say that may be dispensed with, show me reason
Why you desire to steal out of your country,
Like some malefactor that had forfeited
His life and freedom. Here’s a worthy gentleman
Hath for your sake invited many guests,
To his great charge, only to take of you
A parting leave: you send him word you cannot—
After, you may not come. Had not my urgence,
Almost compulsion, driven you to his house,
The unkindness might have forfeited your love,
And razed you from his will; in which he hath given you
A fair and large estate; yet you of all this strangeness
Show no sufficient ground.
Young Geraldine.
Then understand
The ground thereof took his first birth from you;
’Twas you first charged me to forbear the house,
And that upon your blessing. Let it not then
Offend you, sir, if I so great a charge
Have strived to keep so strictly.
Old Geraldine.
Me perhaps
You may appease, and with small difficulty,
Because a father; but how satisfy
Their dear and, on your part, unmerited love?
But this your last obedience may salve all.
We now grow near the house.
Young Geraldine.
Whose doors, to me,
Appear as horrid as the gates of Hell.
Where shall I borrow patience, or from whence,
To give a meeting to this viperous brood
Of friend and mistress?
[They enter the house.