CLOWN. Oh!
[Still he stands, grinning there.
EGLANTINE. George, we are keeping my servant in a draught.
[Clown waddles out. Harlequin vanishes too. He is back in a moment to
find Eglantine sunk in the chair facing the mirror to see--finery! And
what else?
Quin. In the glass there ... is that Eglantine?
HARLEQUIN. Till this moment your lordship has been pleased to think so.
EGLANTINE. The country girl that sang. I had her sent away.
HARLEQUIN. Since the song caused your lordship some discomfort.
EGLANTINE. Stop her before she goes. [He takes the parchment from the
table.] Stay, give me pen and ink. This is for her when the name is
altered. Her home I think you said....
[Harlequin vanishes again. Eglantine most carefully erases the
name and writes in the other. Then he rises, pistol in hand, and faces
himself in mirror, looks himself full in the face.
And now, Lord Eglantine, since you are he! Peg for clothes, scribbler of
epigrams, now to end and for ever your tailor's dream.
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