EGLANTINE. Mr. Talon, 'pon me honour, as punctual as a creditor. Port? Madeira or Port, Mr. Talon? Quin, Mr. Talon will drink Madeira. [Quin pours out the Madeira. Quin takes his master's wig, beturbans him, brings rose-water for his hands, cosmetics for his face. Quin is everywhere. Quin does everything. It is magical. Mr. Talon, you look black at me. [Mr. Talon, seated, warmed with his wine, takes many red-taped papers from his bag and a quill from a case. PANTALOON. A goose quill. EGLANTINE. One of your own plucking? PANTALOON. Often too appropriate for the signing of such documents. EGLANTINE. This the settlement? Small house ... strip of woodland ... rentals of farm ... two hundred a year! Is that all? PANTALOON. It is all there is left to settle, my lord; all that is left to you of your estate. EGLANTINE. The Lady Clarissa may well complain. PANTALOON. But if you had not pledged yourself to pay her debts besides you would be still twelve thousand five hundred pounds the richer. EGLANTINE. True! PANTALOON. And I must warn your lordship that all this done, if it's to be done, you will have left to you a mere fifteen thousand pounds in stocks. That, and no more in the world. EGLANTINE. Fifteen? PANTALOON. Exactly. EGLANTINE. How lucky. The very sum I lost last night to Sir Jeffrey Rake. Had it been more how could I have paid him? Had it been less we should have been troubled with the change. PANTALOON. My lord, my lord! EGLANTINE. You seem distressed. Quin, a glass of wine for Mr. Talon to restore him. [In a flash Quin has re-filled his glass with wine. PANTALOON. 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. Gad, but the wig block looks as lively as I do. The mirror reflects her ladyship's portrait very well. PANTALOON. You love her, my lord? [At this moment and at that word Harlequin waves his wand--it is a comb as it happens--and next we hear Columbine begin again to sing.