"
"It _is_ a pity," said the pedant in reply, "but there's a remedy for
every ill under the sun, save death, according to the old saying, and
if you will permit me, I think that I can help you out of this awkward
dilemma. We, poor players, shadows of real men and women, phantoms of
personages of every degree, from the highest to the lowest, have
the means necessary for assuming almost any character, you know.
As 'costumier' of the troupe I am accustomed to make all sorts of
transformations, and can turn a miserable vagabond into an Alexander,
or a vulgar wench into a princess. Now, if you are not too proud, I will
exercise my poor skill in your lordship's service. Since you have been
willing to join our company for this journey, do not disdain to make
use of our resources, such as they are, and put aside these ill-fitting
garments, which disguise your natural advantages, and make you feel ill
at ease. Most fortunately I happen to have in reserve a handsome suit of
black velvet, which has not the least of a theatrical air about it, and
has never been used; any gentleman could wear it, and unless I am much
mistaken it will fit you capitally. I have also the fine linen shirt,
silk stockings, shoes--with broad buckles, and cloak to go with
it--there is nothing wanting, not even the sword.
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