Tom. I haven’t a penny—I haven’t the ghost of a prospect of a penny. In debt everywhere, and now I’m told that judgment’s been signed against me for £250 by the cruellest Jew in Christendom! Upon my soul, it’s enough to make a fellow shy things about, I swear it is! But everything always did go wrong with me, even before I was born, for I was always expected to be a girl, and turned out something quite different, and no fault of mine, I’m sure! (Producing pistol.) Oh, if I was only quite, quite sure I knew how to load it, I’d blow my brains out this minute! I would, upon my word and honour!
Enter Matilda.
Mat. Eh! and what good ’ld that do, dear?
Tom. It would rid the world of an unhappy wretch. The world’s a beast, and I hate it.
Mat. Then if you hate it, what d’ye want to be doing it a good turn for? Sure it would be a bad bargain, lovey, for you’d lose the world, whereas the world ’ld only lose you. (Takes pistol away from him.)
Tom. There’s truth in that.
Mat. If I was you, dear, I’d go on living to spite it.
Tom. Oh, ain’t that small! Oh, ain’t that like a woman!
Mat. And, after all, ye’re not so badly off. Don’t ye board and lodge on nominal turr’ms with a rale cornel?