The Harlequinade: An ExcursionCalthrop, Dion Clayton
General
The Harlequinade: An Excursion
Calthrop, Dion Clayton
Literature
EGLANTINE. Love, Mr. Talon, is a most unmodish thing. It may be called...!
That girl is singing again!
HARLEQUIN. She knows no better, my lord. Shall I stop her?
EGLANTINE. No. But hand me my epigrams upon love. They slip my memory. It's
a pretty song. [The tablets are before him. He glances over them.] Now,
let's see. Love is a ... [But he is caught by the song.] Artless as a bird!
Love ... [That fine epigram seems out of place beside the song.] When a
woman loves you, she ... [But while that girl is singing, he simply cannot
read the foolish words.] That might be the oldest song in the world!
HARLEQUIN. It is, my lord.
EGLANTINE. [Gives back the tablets with the wryest smile.] Take them, put
them in the fire. As epigrams well enough, Mr. Talon; but perhaps the
simple truth is, that I do not love her ladyship.
[And the song ceases.
HARLEQUIN. Pardon me, my lord; once more the bell!
[Quin disappears to answer it.
EGLANTINE. Gad, no more delays, or my bride will be kept waiting at the
Church.
PANTALOON. Listen to me, my lord. Pay these debts of hers in full, make
this settlement as you intend, and you are a pauper.
EGLANTINE. But yet a gentleman who has given his word and not broken it.
PANTALOON. You will at least allow me to postpone the payment of the
debts till you are safely married. Caution's our lawyer's trade mark. Her
ladyship might die, might change her mind at the very altar!
EGLANTINE. I will not allow you to cast a doubt either on her perfect
health or her perfect honour ... nor let the shadow of one rest on mine.
PANTALOON. But, my lord, why has she begged you keep your marrying secret
till to-day?
EGLANTINE. Perhaps she is not very proud of me, my dear Talon. It is
possible.
[Harlequin flashes through the doorway and announces ...
HARLEQUIN. Sir George Rustic.
[It is Momus. Devil a doubt it is also our old friend, Clown.
EGLANTINE. Welcome, my dear George, so soon again. We didn't part till six.
CLOWN. Damned if we did. A rake-helly place is London to be sure, but after
Somerset ... I tell 'ee, I likes it. I been home since, washed hands and
face! No; washed hands ... not face. Then to White's for my chocolate, and
picked up the latest smack of gossip ... the best there's been in weeks ...
good enough to come along and tell 'ee. So here we be again.
EGLANTINE. My attorney, Mr. Joseph Talon.
CLOWN. Han't we met somewhere before?
PANTALOON. It is possible, sir, but it must be a while ago.
CLOWN. I seem to know 'ee. I've got an uncle called Joey.
ALICE. You see they always nearly remember.
CLOWN. No pleasant business a-doing by the looks of you. I guess it, and
don't wonder. What was your joke as we started the cards? Man who sits to
gamble at night had better have called his attorney betimes in the morning.
EGLANTINE. Ah, well remembered. Pray redeem, Mr. Talon, as soon as may be,
my note of hand for fifteen thousand from Sir Jeffrey Rake's steward.
PANTALOON. My lord.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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