Collected Works (Vol. III)

WHY JESUS WEPT 43 year and a flat in Mayfair is better than farmer Tyson’s butter and eggs. MOLLY. Must it be now ? GLENSTRAE. Much better now. There, there! Wish me good luck, Percy ! SIR PERCY. I know nothing of your devil’s game. Good luck ! GLENSTRAE. Caste, John Burns.! [Exenunt MARQUIS and MOLLY. LADY GLENSTRAE. Hist! Percy, hither to me. Is no one looking? Sirk PERCY. No, there is no one here. LADY GLENSTRAE, I can cure you. and happy again. I can make you strong O what rapture ! Sir PERCY. What is it ? LADY GLENSTRAE. Here, let me give you this medicine. A little prick of pain, and then—pleasure—Oh ! [She bends caressingly ever the arnt of SIR PERCY DE PERCIVALE, and stabs it with a needle. Get a doctor to give you a prescription like this—they ask a hundred francs—oh! it is a shame! Buy a little syringe; and that is Heaven for all your life—How do you feel? Sirk PERCY. Why, I am well at once. I never felt better in my life. The devil take my trouble 1 A demagogue of the period. now! I shall go out and conquer the whole world. I shall be the great magician, the Lord of the Stars. I have it in me to write poetry. Yes, that, first. (Goes to table and takes pen and paper.) In praise of—what is your medicine called, dear Marchioness? LADY GLENSTRAE. Who calls me? What is it? alone ! Leave me Sirk PERcY. Tell me, dear Lady—Maud 3 LADY GLENSTRAE. Ah! you are the boy. Sir PERCY. Your boy, queen ! LADY GLENSTRAE. Oh, yes, my boy. Sir PERcY. What is this medicine called? LADY GLENSTRAE. What medicine? I never take medicine! Sirk PERCY. But you gave it me—with a needle. LADY GLENSTRAE. Oh, that medicine! You like it? Sir PERCY. It is heaven, heaven! It is called— LADY GLENSTRAE. Morphia. [Zhey rest.