Reu. A comfortable old man, they tell me, and one who can portion his pretty Dorothy. Pretty Dorothy and I are very good friends. She listens when I talk, which many won’t. (Geoffrey makes an angry gesture.) And talking of pretty Dorothy, we have here a bauble or locket, or, as one may say, a trinket that belongeth to her, I’ll go bail. (Picking up locket which Geoffrey dropped.)
Geof. Sir, that locket is mine.
Reu. It is very like—it is very like, yet for that I have but thy word. I care for no man’s word—no, not even for mine own, for though it is as good as another’s, yet it is worth nothing. If the trinket be thine, describe it with circumstance, and I will give it up to thee.
Enter Dan’l, unperceived. He listens in great agitation.
Geof. It is fashioned like a heart, and bears an inscription “To the best loved of all,” and it is dated seventeen years since. It is a love-token, sir, and I desire you to yield it up without further parley.
Reu. (who has recognized it). Why, surely, I should know this locket well. From whom did you receive it?
Geof. (taking it from him). That is a question that I have no will to answer. It is a token of betrothal—let that suffice.
Reu. But it don’t suffice. Do you know who I am? I am bailiff to Sir Jasper Combe——
Geof. Sir Jasper Combe!