so belie
The inward by the outward; seldom frame
A cheat so finish'd to ensnare the senses,
And break our faith in all substantial truth. _Exeunt._

_Enter_ CECILIA, _followed by_ JACCONOT.

JACCONOT.

Well, well, Mistress St. Cecil; the money is all well enough--I object
nothing to the money.

CECILIA.

Then, go your ways.

JACCONOT.

My ways are your ways--a murrain on your beauties!--has your brain shot
forth skylarks as your eyes do sparks?

CECILIA.

Go!--here is my purse.

JACCONOT.

I'll no more of't!--I have a mind to fling back what thou'st already
given me for my services.

CECILIA.

Master Jacconot, I would have no further services from thee. If thou art
not yet satisfied, fetch the weight and scales, and I will cast my gold
into it, and my dross besides--so shall I be doubly relieved.

JACCONOT.

I say again--and the devil bear me fierce witness!--it is not gold I
want, but rightful favour; not silver, but sweet civility; not dross,
but the due respect to my non-pareil value! Bethink thee, Cecil--bethink
thee of many things! Ay! am not I the true gallant of my time? the great
Glow-worm and Will-o'-the-wisp--the life, the fortune, and the favourite
of the brightest among ye!

CECILIA.

Away!

JACCONOT.

Whither?

CECILIA.

Anywhere, so it be distant.

JACCONOT.

What mean'st by discarding me, and why is it? 'Slud! is this the right
sort of return for all my skilful activities, my adroit fascinations of
young lords in drink, my tricks at dice, cards, and dagger-play, not to
speak too loudly of bets on bear-baits, soap-bubbles, and Shrovetide
cocks; or my lies about your beauty and temper? Have I not brought dukes
and earls and reverend seniors, on tip-toe, and softly whispering for
fear of "the world," right under the balcony of your window?--O, don't
beat the dust with your fine foot! These be good services, I think!

CECILIA (_half aside_).

Alas! alas!--the world sees us only as bright, though baleful stars,
little knowing our painful punishments in the dark--our anguish in
secret.

JACCONOT.

Are you thinking of me?

CECILIA.

Go!

JACCONOT.

Go!--a death's-head crown your pillow! May you dream of love, and wake
and see that!

CECILIA.

I had rather see't than you.

JACCONOT.

What's i' the wind,--nobleman, or gentleman, or a brain fancy--am not I
at hand? Are you mad?

CECILIA (_overcome_).

I'd gladly believe I have been so