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A monologue from the play by James Albery
Wyatt
I feel grateful when I see a nobly dressed swell. There’s a fine thoughtfulness of others about him; such fellows as you and I spend our money on books and beer, and pamper our wits and our wallets for our own special enjoyment.
But a swell he gets himself up for others, and he makes himself fine for me to look at. He pays himself for buttons and rings and chains for me to admire.
He charges me nothing to see him; I don’t have to get a ticket, but he comes out and I have a front place gratis. He don’t even want me to applaud, but goes on perseveringly in spite of the debts and pains, making himself beautiful to see, and perhaps while I’m enjoying his patent boots, he’s suffering from corns.
Oh, he’s a noble creature is a swell.
