Tarleton: I had better tell you that I once asked
your daughter to become my widow.
TARLETON. _[to Hypatia]_ Why didnt you accept him, you young idiot?
LORD SUMMERHAYS. I was too old.
TARLETON. All this has been going on under my nose, I suppose. You
run after young men; and old men run after you. And I'm the last
person in the world to hear of it.
HYPATIA. How could I tell you?
LORD SUMMERHAYS. Parents and children, Tarleton.
TARLETON. Oh, the gulf that lies between them! the impassable,
eternal gulf! And so I'm to buy the brute for you, eh?
HYPATIA. If you please, papa.
TARLETON. Whats the price, Mr Percival?
PERCIVAL. We might do with another fifteen hundred if my father would
contribute. But I should like more.
TARLETON. It's purely a question of money with you, is it?
PERCIVAL. _[after a moment's consideration]_ Practically yes: it
turns on that.
TARLETON. I thought you might have some sort of preference for Patsy,
you know.
PERCIVAL. Well, but does that matter, do you think? Patsy fascinates
me, no doubt. I apparently fascinate Patsy. But, believe me, all
that is not worth considering. One of my three fathers (the priest)
has married hundreds of couples: couples selected by one another,
couples selected by the parents, couples forced to marry one another
by circumstances of one kind or another; and he assures me that if
marriages were made by putting all the men's names into one sack and
the women's names into another, and having them taken out by a
blindfolded child like lottery numbers, there would be just as high a
percentage of happy marriages as we have here in England.
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