You are ruined!
EGLANTINE. So it seems. Rose-water for my hands, Quin.
PANTALOON. This is Sir Jeffrey Rake's revenge. It's said that he has wooed
Lady Clarissa while you won her from him.
EGLANTINE. At fifteen thousand! Cheap, then, you'll admit at the price.
PANTALOON. A cheap lady, no doubt, my lord, at any price.
EGLANTINE. You know her?
PANTALOON. Her reputation only.
EGLANTINE. There's her portrait behind me. I can't turn my head. Quin,
bring me my mirror.
[Mr. Talon studies the brilliant lady rather doubtfully.
PANTALOON. I trust she loves your lordship?
EGLANTINE. Gad's life! I never asked her. A monstrous unfair thing to ask
of any woman of the world.
PANTALOON. Doubtless she is grateful for the sacrifice you make.
EGLANTINE. I hope not.
[Quin now has the mirror placed so that Eglantine can view his
bride-to-be. It reflects other matters of importance, too.
Ah ... is that the new wig on the block? Vastly good! Quin here, Mr. Talon,
has a magical touch at dressing a head.
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