Richly:
He! How is it you're in my house, sir, if you please?
Squire:
Don't you understand without my telling you? I've just drunk champagne
in the best company. He's still feasting which is the best way
possible for him to comfort himself in your absence.
Richly:
This swindler will ruin me. I'm going in.
Roger:
Stop! I will not allow you to enter.
Richly:
I can't go in to my own house?
Squire:
No. The company is not ready to receive you.
Richly:
What do you mean?
Squire:
It wouldn't be proper for a son who knows how to live and who has been
learning manners from me to receive his father in a house which has
nothing in it but the four walls.
Richly:
What--four walls? My beautiful paintings which cost me three thousand
pounds--are they gone?
Squire:
We got eighteen hundred for them. Not a bad sale.
Richly:
Not a bad sale. Masterpieces like that.
Squire:
Bah! The subject was lugubrious. The fall of Troy with a villainous
wooden horse that had neither mouth nor tail. We made a friend out of
the buyer.
Richly:
Ah, gallowsbird.
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