John. Woman for ever.
Thos. You’ve won, so there’s an end of not only my expectations but realities. Come along, Mrs Jellybags must be anxious to look over her wardrobe.
John. Yes, and also the silver watch and the key and seal hanging to it. Good bye, Jemmy! Ha! ha!
(Exeunt, laughing.)
Clem. For shame, John. (Turns to Edward.) My dear Edward, do not appear so downcast. I acknowledge that I am myself much mortified and disappointed—but we must submit to circumstances. What did I tell you before this will was read?—that nothing could alter my feelings towards you, did I not?
Edw. (with indifference.) Yes.
Clem. Why then annoy yourself, my dear Edward?
Edw. The confounded old junks!
Clem. Nay, Edward, recollect that he is dead—I can forgive him.
Edw. But I won’t. Has he not dashed my cup of bliss to the ground? Heavens! what delightful anticipations I had formed of possessing you and competence—all gone!