This man goes to the bottom of everything. THE MAN. The Queen's health is bad; the Queen may die, and then you, the favorite, will fall shattered on her tomb. The actual proofs of this young girl's rank may be found; and then, if the Queen is dead, Jane Talbot, dishonored though she be, will be recognized as Lord Talbot's heiress. You have foreseen that too. You are a handsome young cavalier; you have won her love; she has given herself to you; at the worst, you can marry her. Don't deprecate your scheme, my lord; I consider it sublime. If I were not myself, I would like to be you. FABIANI. Thank you. THE MAN. You have managed the matter very skillfully. You have concealed your name. You are safe as far as the Queen is concerned. The poor girl thinks she has been seduced by a nobleman from Somerset county, named Amyas Pawlet. FABIANI. All--he knows it all! Well, come to the point. What do you want of me? THE MAN. My lord, suppose some one had in his possession the papers which prove the birth, existence, and rights of Talbot's heiress! It would make you as poor as my ancestor Job, Don Fabiano, and would leave you no better castles than your castles in Spain, which would be very hard for you. FABIANI. Yes! But no one has those papers. THE MAN. Yes. Some one has them. FABIANI. Who? THE MAN. I. FABIANI. You, miserable wretch! It isn't true! Jew speaks, Jew lies. THE MAN. I have got the papers. FABIANI. You lie! Where have you got them? THE MAN. In my pocket. FABIANI. I don't believe you. Are they all in order? Nothing lacking? THE MAN. Nothing is lacking. FABIANI. Then I must have them. THE MAN. Gently. FABIANI. Jew, give me those papers! THE MAN. Excellent! Jew, miserable beggar who crawls through the streets, give me the city of Shrewsbury, give me the city of Wexford, give me the earldom of Waterford! Charity, if you please! FABIANI. Those papers are everything to me and nothing to you. THE MAN. Simon Renard and Lord Chandos would pay me pretty high for them. FABIANI. Simon Renard and Lord Chandos are two dogs between whom I will have you hanged. THE MAN. You have nothing else to say to me? Then farewell. FABIANI. Come back! What do you want me to give you for those papers? THE MAN. Something which you have with you. FABIANI. My purse? THE MAN. Out upon you! Do you want mine? FABIANI. What then? THE MAN. There is a parchment which never leaves you. It is a signature in blank which the Queen gave you, and in which she swears, upon her Catholic crown, to grant any favor he may ask, to the one who presents it. Give me that signature in blank, and you shall have Jane Talbot's titles. Paper for paper. FABIANI. What do you want to do with this signature in blank? THE MAN.