And every flower embroidered on
his coat is perfumed with its proper scent. And a girl has gone blind
through making the filmy froth of lace about his throat.
CLOWN. It's carrying round London by this time. You know Sir Jeffrey Rake?
EGLANTINE. I think so.
CLOWN. Yes, don't you. You lost enough to him last night.
EGLANTINE. I did.
CLOWN. He's been this year past, it seems, sweethearting ... and a bit more
... with a famous lady of fashion here in town. But he'd not a penny, and
she'd ten thousand pounds of debts. So marry they couldn't till she hit on
a plan.
EGLANTINE. Indeed?
CLOWN. A fine lady's plan. She was to cozen some wealthy fop and swear to
marry him if he'd pay those debts of hers. D'you mark that?
EGLANTINE. I mark it.
CLOWN. There's more to come. The night before the wedding was to be ...
last night as ever was ... if Sir Jeffrey didn't win at cards a cool
fifteen thousand from the same poor fool. And this very morning, off have
the precious couple gone! Married by this, begad they are; he with his
pockets lined, she free of her Jews.
Pages:
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70