Point. And so thou wouldst be a jester, eh?.

Wilfred. Aye!

Point. Now, listen! My sweetheart, Elsie Maynard, was secretly wed to this Fairfax half an hour ere he escaped.

Wilfred. She did well.

Point. She did nothing of the kind, so hold thy peace and perpend. Now, while he liveth she is dead to me and I to her, and so, my jibes and jokes notwithstanding, I am the saddest and the sorriest dog in England!

Wilfred. Thou art a very dull dog indeed.

Point. Now, if thou wilt swear that thou didst shoot this Fairfax while he was trying to swim across the river — it needs but the discharge of an arquebus on a dark night — and that he sank and was seen no more, I'll make thee the very Archbishop of jesters, and that in two days' time! Now, what sayest thou?

Wilfred. I am to lie?

Point. Heartily. But thy lie must be a lie of circumstance, which I will support with the testimony of eyes, ears, and tongue.

Wilfred. And thou wilt qualify me as a jester?

Point. As a jester among jesters. I will teach thee all my original songs, my self-constructed riddles, my own ingenious paradoxes; nay, more, I will reveal to thee the source whence I get them. Now, what sayest thou?

Wilfred. Why, if it be but a lie thou wantest of me, I hold it cheap enough, and I say yes, it is a bargain!

Page Created 17 January, 2006