[Is it Eglantine who enters? There stands something for a moment a dead thing dressed in a bridegroom's splendour. It is as if some ice-cold hand had plucked at his heart. Yet he is calm; the poise remains true, the subtle artifice is there. But the crushing blow to his pride is in his pale face, and his voice rings bitterly when he says: EGLANTINE. I was. CLOWN. I'm sorry. I might have guessed. I mean, of course I couldn't have guessed ... that any man would be such a fool ... I mean ... oh, gad, I... ALICE. He never opens his mouth but he puts his foot in it. That's what he's trying to say. CLOWN. But there's time yet. Old Talon can't have paid the money to her lawyers by this. Jeffrey Rake boasted too soon. I'll run to stop it. EGLANTINE. Pray, do nothing of the sort, George. CLOWN. But I will. An't I your friend? What's the address? EGLANTINE. My pistol, Quin. [The pistol is in his hand. CLOWN. And the fifteen thousand Rake won. Hold it back. We'll call him out and do for him ... one of us. EGLANTINE. Must I go so far as to shoot you in the leg, my dear George, to convince you that it will be an errand ill run ... that they are welcome to their gains ... that I count myself well rid of them. CLOWN. Oh! You don't count on my not telling the story, do you? EGLANTINE. Though I shot you as dead as mutton, every joint would squeak it, I feel sure. CLOWN. Oh! EGLANTINE. Quin; the door. 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.