Bertram is certainly well off for a cadet of even a Baronet's family. By the time he is four or five and twenty he will have seven hundred a year, and nothing to do for it.
For men be now tratlers and tellers of tales; What tidings at Totnam, what newis in Wales, What ſhippis are ſailing to Scalis Malis? And all is not worth a couple of nut ſhalis.
Not spankings...donkeypunches...at least let him get laid. It's his birthday.
I'm not handsome in the classical sense. The eyes droop, the mouth is crooked, the teeth aren't straight, the voice sounds like a Mafioso pallbearer, but somehow it all works.
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