TRISTRAM.

Ha, Flora! where’s Sir Gregory? What red eyes: blubbering!

FLORA.

I am discharged, Tristram, discharged. The Countess has discharged me for keeping company with you. And she has been crying too, to have to part with me. What ever will come to us?

T. What matters? I’ll cheer thee, girl. Look here! More money. There’s five pieces of gold: and all for carrying this letter to Sir Gregory. Where is he?

Fl. Who gave it you?

T. That Mr. Ricardo. It’s a mystery, Flora: but there’s something in it, I do believe.

Fl. Mr. Ricardo?

T. Ay. Who should he be that scatters gold, and seals with a crown, look! and says that he will find us new places, and all sorts of fine promises? A man that would flick me away whenever I came near him.

Fl. Did he, Tristram?