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Read Ebook: Lucile by Lytton Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton Earl Of
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Ebook has 713 lines and 133270 words, and 15 pages
ALFRED.
Read it on to the end, and you'll know.
JOHN .
"When we parted, your last words recorded a vow-- What you will"... Hang it! this smells all over, I swear, Of adventurers and violets. Was it your hair You promised a lock of?
ALFRED.
Read on. You'll discern.
JOHN .
"Those letters I ask you, my lord, to return."... Humph!... Letters!... the matter is worse than I guess'd; I have my misgivings--
ALFRED.
Well, read out the rest, And advise.
JOHN.
Eh?... Where was I? "Miss Darcy, perchance, Will forego one brief page from the summer romance Of her courtship."... Egad! a romance, for my part, I'd forego every page of, and not break my heart!
ALFRED.
Continue.
JOHN .
"And spare you one day from your place At her feet."... Pray forgive me the passing grimace. I wish you had MY place! "I trust you will feel I desire nothing much. Your friend,". . . Bless me! "Lucile?" The Countess de Nevers?
ALFRED.
Yes.
JOHN.
What will you do?
ALFRED.
You ask me just what I would rather ask you.
JOHN.
You can't go.
ALFRED
I must.
JOHN.
And Matilda?
ALFRED.
Oh, that You must manage!
JOHN.
Must I? I decline it, though, flat. In an hour the horses will be at the door, And Matilda is now in her habit. Before I have finished my breakfast, of course I receive A message for "dear Cousin John!"... I must leave At the jeweller's the bracelet which YOU broke last night; I must call for the music. "Dear Alfred is right: The black shawl looks best: WILL I change it? Of course I can just stop, in passing, to order the horse. Then Beau has the mumps, or St. Hubert knows what; WILL I see the dog-doctor?" Hang Beau! I will NOT.
ALFRED.
Tush, tush! this is serious.
JOHN.
It is.
ALFRED.
Very well, You must think--
JOHN.
What excuse will you make, tho'?
ALFRED.
Oh, tell Mrs. Darcy that... lend me your wits, Jack!... The deuce! Can you not stretch your genius to fit a friend's use? Excuses are clothes which, when ask'd unawares, Good Breeding to Naked Necessity spares, You must have a whole wardrobe, no doubt.
JOHN.
My dear fellow, Matilda is jealous, you know, as Othello.
ALFRED.
You joke.
JOHN.
I am serious. Why go to Luchon?
ALFRED.
JOHN.
You had better go hang yourself.
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