Good friends, and Mayor Whetstone, welcome all!It is a happy and auspicious time.This day the turn of Fortune’s fickle wheelHath brought a double gift of joy to me.This is my wife, from whom I was estranged,—My Catharine, light of my youthful life,—Now reunited by a tenderer tieThan held our earlier years of wedded love.And this same day, by sudden rise of stocksOn the Exchange, my fortune and my niece’sHave been restored to us. Swiftly hath flownThe time since when, upon a troublous day,Yon Merchant Prince and I together plannedWithout her leave, as men too oft have done,To violate a gentle maiden’s heart.But she by maiden wit and nimble mirthHath warded off and foiled our ruder blows;For Nature gives to helpless maids such powersTo guard their hearts as are undreamt of men.Let us be glad that naught but harmless mirthHath been the kind result of deeper plans.For, friends, good mirth is better than fine gold;’Tis Heaven’s mercy shown to weary man,And falls upon the heart of melancholyAs fall refreshing dews on earth at eve.And as in sparkling drops of crystal dewNight-clouded Earth doth clasp the light of stars,So doth the heart of melancholy catch,In sparkling laughter, the light of merry hearts.
Good friends, and Mayor Whetstone, welcome all!It is a happy and auspicious time.This day the turn of Fortune’s fickle wheelHath brought a double gift of joy to me.This is my wife, from whom I was estranged,—My Catharine, light of my youthful life,—Now reunited by a tenderer tieThan held our earlier years of wedded love.And this same day, by sudden rise of stocksOn the Exchange, my fortune and my niece’sHave been restored to us. Swiftly hath flownThe time since when, upon a troublous day,Yon Merchant Prince and I together plannedWithout her leave, as men too oft have done,To violate a gentle maiden’s heart.But she by maiden wit and nimble mirthHath warded off and foiled our ruder blows;For Nature gives to helpless maids such powersTo guard their hearts as are undreamt of men.Let us be glad that naught but harmless mirthHath been the kind result of deeper plans.For, friends, good mirth is better than fine gold;’Tis Heaven’s mercy shown to weary man,And falls upon the heart of melancholyAs fall refreshing dews on earth at eve.And as in sparkling drops of crystal dewNight-clouded Earth doth clasp the light of stars,So doth the heart of melancholy catch,In sparkling laughter, the light of merry hearts.
Good friends, and Mayor Whetstone, welcome all!It is a happy and auspicious time.This day the turn of Fortune’s fickle wheelHath brought a double gift of joy to me.This is my wife, from whom I was estranged,—My Catharine, light of my youthful life,—Now reunited by a tenderer tieThan held our earlier years of wedded love.And this same day, by sudden rise of stocksOn the Exchange, my fortune and my niece’sHave been restored to us. Swiftly hath flownThe time since when, upon a troublous day,Yon Merchant Prince and I together plannedWithout her leave, as men too oft have done,To violate a gentle maiden’s heart.But she by maiden wit and nimble mirthHath warded off and foiled our ruder blows;For Nature gives to helpless maids such powersTo guard their hearts as are undreamt of men.Let us be glad that naught but harmless mirthHath been the kind result of deeper plans.For, friends, good mirth is better than fine gold;’Tis Heaven’s mercy shown to weary man,And falls upon the heart of melancholyAs fall refreshing dews on earth at eve.And as in sparkling drops of crystal dewNight-clouded Earth doth clasp the light of stars,So doth the heart of melancholy catch,In sparkling laughter, the light of merry hearts.
Whetstone.
Major, now for my revenge! Send for my housekeeper, my castle-keeper. Order Susan. I’ll celebrate my nuptials on this sea-girt strand.
Bluegrass.
Shall I order the nuptial plumage?
Whetstone.
For both. At once.
EnterPunchwith garments on each arm.
Punch.
Ladies and gentlemens, I have some beautiful wedding garments.
EnterScythe,enthusiastically, with hand-net and beetle.
Scythe.
I’ve caught the beetle!
[Exhibiting a large beetle.
Whetstone.
Send it to my Cornville Museum!
Northlake.
A word with thee, my gallant Mayor Whetstone:There’s one within, who, having heard afarThy strange adventures in this seaside town,—Thy loves, thy titles, and thy masquerades,And more especially thy fearful duelIn the wood,—instanter boarded cars at CornvilleTo rescue and to succor thee in peril;She’s here,—she waits,—and now she doth appear.
A word with thee, my gallant Mayor Whetstone:There’s one within, who, having heard afarThy strange adventures in this seaside town,—Thy loves, thy titles, and thy masquerades,And more especially thy fearful duelIn the wood,—instanter boarded cars at CornvilleTo rescue and to succor thee in peril;She’s here,—she waits,—and now she doth appear.
A word with thee, my gallant Mayor Whetstone:There’s one within, who, having heard afarThy strange adventures in this seaside town,—Thy loves, thy titles, and thy masquerades,And more especially thy fearful duelIn the wood,—instanter boarded cars at CornvilleTo rescue and to succor thee in peril;She’s here,—she waits,—and now she doth appear.
He opens a door andSusanenters.
Whetstone.
Susan!
Susan.
Hercules!
Whetstone.
Dear Susan!
Susan.
Dear Hercules!
[They embrace.
Whetstone.
Oh, Susan!
Susan[surveying him].
Why, Hercules, how you’ve changed! I do declare! your clothes are full of wrinkles. How thin you’ve grown! you must have lost twenty pounds! I must make you, this very night, a cup of my elder-blossom tea; I’ve brought the blossoms with me [taking package from pocket]. Hercules, can it be that you would have forsaken your Susan?
Whetstone.
Why, Susan!
Susan.
I knew it could never be.
Whetstone[petting her].
That’s right, Susan; we’ll be married. Think of it, we’ll be married, Susan!
[Music.PompeyandHannibalopen doors on veranda, showing dining-hall; andPompeyannounces that dinner is served.
[Music.PompeyandHannibalopen doors on veranda, showing dining-hall; andPompeyannounces that dinner is served.
Northlake.
May you all be my guests! There’s indoors spread a merry cap-sheaf to this mirthful wooing. Let all proceed within.
Violet[presentingIdeal].
Uncle, my Ideal.
Northlake.
Violet, my niece, happy art thou who hast for real thy Ideal.
Violet[persuasively].
Good uncle, thou wilt not cut down the tree in the orchard?
Northlake.
Nay, ’twill bear good fruit in good season.
Violet[to the company].
A philosophic uncle, and a kind one.
Curtain.