Chapter 112

ALINE and MAIDS; _to whom_ FIDDLERS; _afterwards_ DUMONT _and_ CHARLES. _As the curtain rises_, _the sound of the violins is heard approaching_. ALINE _and the inn servants_, _who are discovered laying the table_, _dance up to door L. C._, _to meet the_ FIDDLERS, _who enter likewise dancing to their own music_. _Air_: ‘_Haste to the Wedding_.’ _The_ FIDDLERS _exeunt playing into house_, _R. U. E._ ALINE _and_ MAIDS _dance back to table_, _which they proceed to arrange_

ALINE. Well, give me fiddles: fiddles and a wedding feast. It tickles your heart till your heels make a runaway match of it. I don’t mind extra work, I don’t, so long as there’s fun about it. Hand me up that pile of plates. The quinces there, before the bride. Stick a pink in the Notary’s glass: that’s the girl he’s courting.

DUMONT (_entering_; _with_ CHARLES). Good girls, good girls! Charles, in ten minutes from now what happy faces will smile around that board!

CHARLES. Sir, my good fortune is complete; and most of all in this, that my happiness has made my father happy.

DUMONT. Your father? Ah, well, upon that point we shall have more to say.

CHARLES. What more remains that has not been said already? For surely, sir, there are few sons more fortunate in their father: and, since you approve of this marriage, may I not conceive you to be in that sense fortunate in your son?

DUMONT. Dear boy, there is always a variety of considerations. But the moment is ill chosen for dispute; to-night, at least, let our felicity be unalloyed. (_Looking off L. C._) Our guests arrive: here is our good Curate, and here our cheerful Notary.

CHARLES. His old infirmity, I fear.

DUMONT. But Charles—dear boy!—at your wedding feast! I should have taken it unneighbourly had he come strictly sober.