Part 55

JACCONOT.

I say again--and the devil bear me fierce witness!--it is not gold I want, but rightful favour; not silver, but sweet civility; not dross, but the due respect to my non-pareil value! Bethink thee, Cecil--bethink thee of many things! Ay! am not I the true gallant of my time? the great Glow-worm and Will-o'-the-wisp--the life, the fortune, and the favourite of the brightest among ye!

CECILIA.

Away!

JACCONOT.

Whither?

CECILIA.

Anywhere, so it be distant.

JACCONOT.

What mean'st by discarding me, and why is it? 'Slud! is this the right sort of return for all my skilful activities, my adroit fascinations of young lords in drink, my tricks at dice, cards, and dagger-play, not to speak too loudly of bets on bear-baits, soap-bubbles, and Shrovetide cocks; or my lies about your beauty and temper? Have I not brought dukes and earls and reverend seniors, on tip-toe, and softly whispering for fear of "the world," right under the balcony of your window?--O, don't beat the dust with your fine foot! These be good services, I think!

CECILIA (half aside).

Alas! alas!--the world sees us only as bright, though baleful stars, little knowing our painful punishments in the dark--our anguish in secret.

JACCONOT.

Are you thinking of me?

CECILIA.

Go!

JACCONOT.

Go!--a death's-head crown your pillow! May you dream of love, and wake and see that!

CECILIA.

I had rather see't than you.

JACCONOT.

What's i' the wind,--nobleman, or gentleman, or a brain fancy--am not I at hand? Are you mad?

CECILIA (overcome).

I'd gladly believe I have been so.

JACCONOT.

Good. I'm content you see me aright once more, and acknowledge yourself wrong.

CECILIA (half aside, and tearfully).

O, wrong indeed--very wrong--to my better nature--my better nature.