in for his coffee every morning and waited in line like

FOURTH RETAINER. I!-- Leave Frank alone for catching, at the door, Some hint of how the parley goes inside! Prosperity to the great House once more! Here's the last drop!

in for his coffee every morning and waited in line like

FIRST RETAINER. Have at you! Boys, hurrah!

in for his coffee every morning and waited in line like

SCENE II.--A Saloon in the Mansion

in for his coffee every morning and waited in line like


TRESHAM. I welcome you, Lord Mertoun, yet once more, To this ancestral roof of mine. Your name --Noble among the noblest in itself, Yet taking in your person, fame avers, New price and lustre,--(as that gem you wear, Transmitted from a hundred knightly breasts, Fresh chased and set and fixed by its last lord, Seems to re-kindle at the core)--your name Would win you welcome!--

MERTOUN. Thanks!

TRESHAM. --But add to that, The worthiness and grace and dignity Of your proposal for uniting both Our Houses even closer than respect Unites them now--add these, and you must grant One favour more, nor that the least,--to think The welcome I should give;--'tis given! My lord, My only brother, Austin: he's the king's. Our cousin, Lady Guendolen--betrothed To Austin: all are yours.

MERTOUN. I thank you--less For the expressed commendings which your seal, And only that, authenticates--forbids My putting from me... to my heart I take Your praise... but praise less claims my gratitude, Than the indulgent insight it implies Of what must needs be uppermost with one Who comes, like me, with the bare leave to ask, In weighed and measured unimpassioned words, A gift, which, if as calmly 'tis denied, He must withdraw, content upon his cheek, Despair within his soul. That I dare ask Firmly, near boldly, near with confidence That gift, I have to thank you. Yes, Lord Tresham, I love your sister--as you'd have one love That lady... oh more, more I love her! Wealth, Rank, all the world thinks me, they're yours, you know, To hold or part with, at your choice--but grant My true self, me without a rood of land, A piece of gold, a name of yesterday, Grant me that lady, and you... Death or life?

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