You know I am a man of
expectations; and hold my money as light as the purse in which I
carry it.
Gay. We drink, Master Wilford. Not a man of us has been chased as
yet.
Wilf. But you fill not fairly, sirs! Look at my measure!
Wherefore a large glass, if not for a large draught? Fill, I pray
you, else let us drink out of thimbles! This will never do for the
friends of the nearest of kin to the wealthiest peer in Britain.
Gay. We give you joy, Master Wilford, of the prospect of
advancement which has so unexpectedly opened to you.
Wilf. Unexpectedly indeed! But yesterday arrived the news that the
Earl's only son and heir had died; and to-day has the Earl himself
been seized with a mortal illness. His dissolution is looked for
hourly; and I, his cousin in only the third degree, known to him but
to be unnoticed by him--a decayed gentleman's son--glad of the title
and revenues of a scrivener's clerk--am the undoubted successor to
his estates and coronet.
Gay. Have you been sent for?
Wilf. No; but I have certified to his agent, Master Walter, the
Hunchback, my existence, and peculiar propinquity; and momentarily
expect him here.
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