Stout of leg,
light-footed, with a tricksy plume to his cap, and the swagger of one
who would beard the Saints for a wager, this Aladdin was just such a
galliard as Angelica had often fondled in her dreams. He lept straight
into the closet of her heart, and "Deus!" she cried, "maugre my
maidenhood, I will follow those pretty heels round the earth!"
Cried Geoffrey "Yea! and will not I presently string his ham to save
your panting?"
"_Tacete!_" cried the groundlings.
A moment after, Geoffrey forgot his spleen. Cupid had noosed
him--bound him tight to the Widow Twankey. This was a woman most
unlike to Angelica: poplar-tall, I grant you; but elm-wide into the
bargain; deep-voiced, robustious, and puffed bravely out with hot
vital essences. Seemed so to Geoffrey, at least, who had no smattering
of theatres and knew not his cynosure to be none other than Master
Willie Joffers, prime buffo of the day. Like Angelica, he had had fond
visions; and lo here, the very lady of them!
Says he to Angelica, "I am heartset on this widow."
"By so much the better!" she laughs. "I to my peacock, you to your
peahen, with a Godspeed from each to other."
How to snare the birds? A pretty problem: the fowling was like to be
delicate. So hale a strutter as Aladdin could not lack for bonamies.
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