A slander-mouthed railer! I warrant the spendthrift
prodigal's in debt as much as the million lottery, or the whole
court upon a birthday. I'll spoil his credit with his tailor. Yes,
he shall have my niece with her fortune, he shall.
FOIB. He? I hope to see him lodge in Ludgate first, and angle into
Blackfriars for brass farthings with an old mitten.
LADY. Ay, dear Foible; thank thee for that, dear Foible. He has
put me out of all patience. I shall never recompose my features to
receive Sir Rowland with any economy of face. This wretch has
fretted me that I am absolutely decayed. Look, Foible.
FOIB. Your ladyship has frowned a little too rashly, indeed, madam.
There are some cracks discernible in the white vernish.
LADY. Let me see the glass. Cracks, say'st thou? Why, I am
arrantly flayed: I look like an old peeled wall. Thou must repair
me, Foible, before Sir Rowland comes, or I shall never keep up to my
picture.
FOIB. I warrant you, madam: a little art once made your picture
like you, and now a little of the same art must make you like your
picture.
Pages:
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84