Capt. (in a frenzy.) – Why, hell and Tommy! the maid whom I adore
To prove untrue, and play me false with four!
But all shall die!
(Captain Connor cuts No. 6. with his sword, while Clipclose and company fall upon their knees.)Mags. Oh, Lord! I'm dead already!Capt.– Prepare for death!Snags and Pop. Indeed, sir, we an't ready.Mr. C.– Probably, sir, affection for my wifeMight plead my pardon, and reprieve my life.(Enter, hastily, Mrs. Clipclose and Annette.)Mrs. C.– Why, what's all this? What do my eyes discover?An errant husband, and a truant lover!(Aside to Mr. C.) – Was it for this I gave my faith to you?(Aside to Capt. C.) – Was it for this I drove you out to Kew,Paid cab and lunch, brown stout, and ruin blue?(Capt. C. drops the point of his sword, and evinces great contrition for attempting the lives of the company, when enter an elderly pieman with a juvenile dealer in "all-hots," attended by two policemen. Pieman identifies Miss Smashaway.)Pieman.– That 'ere flash madam hit me in the withers.All-hot (pointing to Mr. Clipclose).– And that cove knock'd my kitchen-range to shivers!Mr. C. (to Policeman.) – Let me explain, sir.Miss S. Pray, sir, let me speak.Policeman.– Silence! and keep your gammon for the beak.(A rumbling noise heard underneath, attended by a disagreeable vapour.)Policeman.– Zounds! what is this? it smothers me almost.
Is it the gas-pipe?Capt. C. No, dash my wig! a ghost!(Slow music. Apparition of Old Clipclose rises through the stage, dressed in a white shirt, and scarlet nightcap.)Roundelay —Ghost and Company.("Good morrow to you, Madam Joan.")GhostAll in the family way,Whack-fal-li, fal-la-di-day!Are you met here to take tea?Whack-fal-li, &c.Or is it love-making you're come?Tol-de-re-lol, &c.Or to keep clear away from a bum?Whack-fal-li, &c.Miss SOh, no, sir! we're going to jail,Whack-fal-li, &c.Unless, Mister Ghost, you'll go bail,Whack-fal-li, &c.PolicemanA spectre, Miss S. will not do,Whack-fal-li, &c.(To the Ghost.)Where the blazes! should we look for you?Whack-fal-li, &c.(Enter Capt. C's four wives.)1st WifeAh, Terry, you traitor, you're there!Whack-fal-li, &c.2nd WifeAs usual, deceiving the fair!Whack-fal-li, &c.3rd WifeYou'll pay dear enough for your pranks!Whack-fal-li, &c.4th WifeYou're broke, and reduced to the ranks!Whack-fal-li, &c.(Capt. C. seems thunderstruck, grinds his teeth passionately, then strikes his forehead, and sings.)Air —Capt. C.– ("The night before Larey was stretch'd.")Capt. CBy St. Patrick, I'm done for, at last!From a captain come down to a private.Terry Connor, your glory is past;A very nice pass to arrive at!(To the Ghost.)
I say, you old rum-looking swell,I would deem it a favour, and civil,In spite of your sulphur'ous smell,To take me down stairs to the devil,And get me a troop in his guards. Ghost (to the Capt.) – Shut your potato-trap! we still refuse —The corps's so moral – Life-Guardsmen and Blues.4th Wife.– Cheer up, my Connor; 'twas in jest I spoke,When I affirm'd my best beloved was broke.Ghost (addressing the company).– Ladies and Gemmen, give the ghost a hearance,As this, his first, must be his last appearance.(To Mr. and Mrs. Clipclose) – Bent upon wedlock, and an heir, to vex ye,If toasted cheese had not brought apoplexy,I died asleep, and left my hard-won riches;Search the left pocket of my dark drab breeches;Open the safe, and there you'll find my will;Deal for cash only and stick to Ludgate-hill;Watch the apprentices, and lock the till;And quit the turf, the finish, and the mill;Turn a new leaf, and leave off former sins;Pay the pieman, and mend young "All-hot's" tins.Mr. C. (doubtfully.) – Did you die rich, dad?Ghost. Rich as any Jew;And half a plum, son Bob, devolves on you.Mrs. C.– What a dear ghost, to die when he was wanted!Will you forgive me?Ghost. Ma'am, your pardon's granted.My time's but short; but still, before I go,With Miss Juliana I would sport a toe.Miss S.– With all my heart. What would your ghostship order?Ghost.– Tell them to play, "Blue bonnets o'er the border."Apollonicon strikes up the country-dance. Ghost leads off with Miss Smashaway; the Captain follows with Mrs. Clipclose; Clipclose, Mags, Snags, and Poppleton each choose one of the Captain's Wives; the Police dance with the Ladies' Maids; and the Pieman with "All-hot." Twice down the middle, poussette, and form hands round. At the end of the dance, the Ghost vanishes, and the remainder of the dramatis personæ take hands, and advance to the stage-lights.
Grand Finale – ("There's nae luck about the house.")Dad's away, and we may play,Nor dread Old Grumpy's frown;Well may we say, "thrice happy dayWhen Square-toes toddled down!"There's now luck about the house,There's now luck to a';There's now luck about the houseSince grumpy dad's awa!(Curtain falls amid tremendous applause, and a call for the author.)CRITICAL REMARKS BY AN M.P"I am not in the habit of frequenting the theatres, nor indeed any public house, except the House of Commons; neither do I pretend to be particularly conversant with the drama: but, by general consent, this play has been declared not inferior to the happiest effort of the bard of Avon, as player-people call William Shakspeare. I have not seen it represented; for, the free list being suspended, prudence would not permit me to attend. Had half-price been taken, I think I should have gone to the two-shilling gallery; but this question is irrelevant.
"The author deserves well of his country. Indeed, his is a double claim; and the debt consequently due by the public would amount to a large tottle. No doubt the restoration of the drama is a matter of some importance; but surely the diminution of drumsticks is one of infinitely greater consideration!
"I perceive by the playbills, – one of which I was enabled to obtain gratis, – that a gentleman called Tambourette performs upon two drums with a single stick. Now, I call the public attention to this important discovery; and, in these times of retrenchment and reform, the introduction of this system into our military establishment should be at once insisted on. The saving would be immense. Assuming that there are one hundred and three battalions of foot, and, on an average, twelve drums to each regiment, – a shameful waste of public money, by-the-bye, one drum and fife being quite sufficient for each corps, as they only alarm an enemy in war-time, and, in peace, destroy the utility of servant-maids by seducing them eternally to the windows. Well, even permitting this extravagant number to remain; by adopting Mr. Tambourette's system of performance, one thousand two hundred and thirty-six drumsticks would be saved to the country. Now, averaging the cost of the smaller-sized drumstick at sixpence, and the larger at one shilling, a reduction in the army estimates might be effected of one thousand one hundred and thirty-three small and one hundred and three large ones; making a tottle to the credit of the nation of 33l. 9s. 6d.!!!
"If the author will furnish me with the necessary information to enable me to frame a bill, I will move for a return of the drummers attached at present to the army: specifying their respective names, weights, heights, and ages, and take the earliest opportunity of bringing the matter before parliament.
"J.H."July 1, 1837.
"P.S. If one thousand two hundred and thirty-six drumsticks be dispensed with, it follows that a similar number of drummers' hands will then remain unoccupied. Might not a one-handed fife be introduced, or a pandean pipe substituted, and fifers totally abolished? I see no reason why the same man should not play the drum and fife together. This, indeed, would be a reduction worthy a reformed parliament, and a tremendous saving to the public purse.
"J.H."THREE NOTCHES FROM THE DEVIL'S TAIL;
OR,
THE MAN IN THE SPANISH CLOAK
A TALE OF "ST. LUKE'S."I had often met with him before in my travels, and had been much struck with the peculiar acumen of his remarks whenever we entered into conversation. His observations were witty, pungent, and sarcastic; but replete with knowledge of men and things. He seemed to despise book-knowledge of every kind, and argued that it only tended to mislead. "I have good reason to be satisfied on this point," he said to me one day at Vienna. "History is not to be relied on; a fact is told a hundred different ways; the actions of men are misrepresented, their motives more so; and as for travels, and descriptions of countries, manners, customs, &c. I have found out that they are the most absurd things in the world, – mere fables and fairy tales. Never waste your time on such trash!"
I again met this gentleman in Paris; it was at a salon d'écarté; and he amused me much by informing me of the names and circumstances of the most distinguished persons present. Whether English, French, or Germans, he knew something of the private history of each, some ridiculous adventure or silly contre-tems. I marvelled how he could have collected so great a store, such as it was, of anecdote and information; how he carried it all in remembrance; and, still more, at the perfect sang-froid with which he detailed these things under the very noses of the persons concerned, who would, had they heard them, no doubt have made as many holes in his body with "penetrating lead" as there are in a cullender.
To avoid getting into any scrape myself, I invited this well-informed gentleman to spend an evening with me at my hotel, where, over a bottle of claret, we might discuss some of those amusing matters, more, at least, to my own ease. Before we separated, I pointed out a certain Englishman to him, who was playing high, and did not notice us: I asked him "If he knew anything respecting that gentleman?" I had my private reasons for asking this question, unnecessary now to mention, and was pleased to find my colloquial friend knew, as they say, "all about him;" so we parted, with a promise on his side that on the following evening he would visit me, and give me every particular.
He came punctually to appointment, but I could not prevail on him to put off his large Spanish cloak, what they call technically "an all-rounder;" he complained of cold, said he had been accustomed to a warm climate, and sat down just opposite to me, when, without hesitation, in a sort of business-like way, he entered at once into the details I most wished to know respecting the young Englishman we had left at the salon d'écarté; and left no doubt on my mind, from some circumstances I already knew respecting him, that the account was most veracious. I fell into a fit of musing in consequence of his narration, which he did not interrupt by a single remark; but, fixing his eyes upon me, seemed to be amusing himself with watching the progress of my thoughts.
"It will never do!" said I, forgetting I was not alone; "he is not worthy of her."
I stopped, and the stranger rose, gave me a peculiar significant look, and was retiring, but I would not permit it; and, apologising for my abstraction, insisted that he should finish the bottle with me: so he sat down again, and we tried to converse as before, but it would not do.
There we sat, facing each other, and both nearly silent; and now it was that I remembered I had never once seen this stranger without this same Spanish cloak, – a very handsome one it is true, richly embroidered, and decorated with Genoese velvet, and a superb clasp and chain of the purest gold and finest workmanship. I pondered on this circumstance, as I recollected that even in Italy and the Ionian islands, where I had before met him by some extraordinary chance, as well as at Constantinople and at Athens, he had always been enveloped in this same most magnificent mantle. At last I thought of the fable of the man, the sun, and the wind; so concluded that he wore this Spanish cloak to guard him equally from heat and cold, to exclude the sun's rays and the winter's winds; or, perhaps, I argued, he wears it to conceal the seedy appearance of his inner garments, or sundry deficiencies of linen, &c. "Things will wear out, and linen will lose its snowy whiteness, but what the devil have I to do with the matter? Let him wear his cloak, and sleep in it too, if it please him; why should I trouble my head about it?"
"You are returning to England soon, sir," said, at length, the cloaked stranger (but I am certain that I had not intimated such intention to him); "I am proceeding there myself on some pressing business, and will do myself the honour of there renewing our acquaintance."
I paused and hesitated ere I replied to this proposition. It is one thing to invite an agreeable stranger to drink a bottle of claret with you at an hotel in Paris, and another to bring him to the sanctuary of your home, to the fireside of an Englishman, to the board of your ancestors, to suffer him to gaze freely on the faces of your sisters, and to pay his court at his ease to every other female relative beneath the paternal roof!
The stranger saw my embarrassment, and seemed to penetrate the cause. He gave me a smile of most inexplicable expression as he said,
"Your late father, Sir George F – , and myself, were old acquaintances. We spent some months together at Rome, and met with a few adventures there, which I dare say have never reached the ears of his son."
This was said in his usual sarcastic way; but I could not endure that he should allude in the slightest manner of disrespect to my deceased father; so I answered, with much reserve, and some sign of displeasure, "That I did not wish to pry into the youthful follies of so near a relative; at the same time I thought it odd I never should have heard my father mention that he had formed any particular intimacy with any one at Rome, but, on the contrary, had even been given to understand that all his recollections of the Eternal City were rather of an unpleasing nature."
"Did he never mention to you the baths of Caracalla?" demanded my strange guest; "but it matters little, for the son of Sir George F – merits every attention from me on his own account, as well as for the sake of another– " He did not finish the sentence; but, folding his cloak more closely round him, he made me a profound bow, something between an Eastern salaam and the bow of a dancing-master, and politely took his leave.
For two or three days I thought much of this extraordinary man; but after that time I became so deeply interested in a Platonic liaison with Madame de R – , the beautiful wife of a Parisian banker, that I forgot him altogether. I had to read, as well as to write, sentimental billets-doux sometimes twice a day, for so often they passed between my fair Platonist and myself. I had to select all her books, her flowers, and to choose her ribbons. I know not how it might have ended, for affairs began to wear a very critical aspect; but I was summoned to England by an express. My beloved mother was dangerously ill. I tore myself away, disregardful of the tears that gathered in the brightest pair of eyes in the world, and travelled post-haste to Calais.
Scarcely had I put my foot on the deck of the vessel ere I perceived my acquaintance of the Spanish cloak. There he was, walking up and down the deck, – tall, erect, gentlemanly; there was his magnificent cloak, without a wrinkle or a spot, the gloss still on it. I sat still, and watched him, not without a sensation of annoyance, as I was not at all in the humour just then to enter into conversation. I was uneasy respecting the life of an only parent, and I had just parted with one of the prettiest women in France, at the moment, too, when we both wished Platonism in the same place its founder was, dead and buried; but I might have saved myself the trouble of being annoyed, for the stranger did not seem to recognise me, nor wish to speak to any one. His carriage was lofty and reserved; his eye was proud, and sought to overlook the rest of the passengers as unworthy of its notice; and so marked was his avoidance of myself, that I began to feel piqued, and to imagine that my own personal appearance, if not our former knowledge of each other, might have gained for me the honour of his notice. Never before did I see so imperious an eye, or so magnificent a cloak!
The passage was a very boisterous one; and all the passengers, both male and female, began to show evident signs enough that the human animal was never intended by Nature to ride upon the ocean's billows. Strange sounds were heard from the very depths of human stomachs, as if in response to the roaring of the winds and the dashing of the waves! I began to sympathise most sincerely with the unhappy sufferers; for such sights and sounds are sure to affect the feelings of those who both see and hear. In short, I began to look grave, and become squeamish. I saw nothing but livid lips and blue cheeks around me, – a perfect pandæmonium of wretchedness; yet there walked the stately man in the cloak, perfectly unmoved in countenance and stomach. I perceived he had lighted a cigar, which glowed of a bright red colour, and threw a glow over his handsome features.
I grew still worse, and my disorder was coming to its climax, when the eye of the stranger for the first time condescended to notice me, and he bowed ceremoniously, with a smile which seemed to say, "I wish you joy, young man, of your sea-sickness!" I turned from him, and sincerely wished him in the same condition as myself and the other victims of the wrath of Neptune. He advanced towards me.
"You look ill, sir!" he exclaimed. "Take the advice of an old sailor; only try one of my cigars; they are not of common use; one or two whiffs will drive away your nausea. I never knew them fail."
Now I loathe smoking at all times; it is a vulgar and idle amusement, fit only, as a modern writer says, for "the swell-mob;" but at this moment the thought of it was execrable. I could have hurled the stranger, when he offered me one of his cigars already ignited, into the sea.
"I never smoke, sir," said I, pettishly, "and I always get as far away as I can from those who do. May I thank you to go a little to the windward?"
"My dear sir, do not be obstinate," said the pertinacious stranger; "we have many hours before we shall touch the shore, for you see both wind and tide are against us. I assure you the remedy is always efficacious;" and he handed me a lighted cigar, immediately under my nose.
I snatched at the burning preparation, and flung it overboard, with an exclamation of no gentle kind; it dropped into the boiling waves, making a noise like a hissing red-hot iron, as it is put by the smith into the water of the stone cistern.
"It is not of the slightest consequence," said my tormentor, affecting to believe I had dropped the cigar by accident, "I have plenty more in my case;" and with the most provoking coolness he lighted another from his own, and presented it to me. I was puzzled what to do, for the courtesy of this man was extreme. I was exceedingly sick, and wished to get rid of him; for who likes to have a witness during the time of Nature's distress? I therefore accepted his cigar, and turned from him, with a very equivocal bow of acknowledgement.
There was something of a very refreshing nature in the smell of this extraordinary-looking cigar, which was burning steadily in my hand. I resolved to try its boasted efficacy; and accordingly put it to my lips, and inhaled its fragrance. In a moment I was well, more than well; for a delicious languor seized me. After that, my nerves were braced, invigorated; I felt as a hunter does after a long day's sport, hungry almost to famine, and I descended to the saloon, and called lustily to the steward to bring me a cold fowl, a plate of ham, and a bottle of porter. No more nausea, no more livid lips and blue cheeks. All of a sudden I became eloquent, poetical, and brimful of the tender passion. I wished to console some of my fair companions who were languishing around me, and offered my cigar to all who would accept it. Had it not been for an occasional thought of my mother's illness, which would intrude upon me whether I wished it or not, what folly and entanglement might I have got into with a pretty milliner on board, just returned from Paris, with fashions in her head, and French levity in her heart!
I ought to have acknowledged my obligation to the stranger for his remedy; but I had conceived so insuperable a dislike to him, that I could not account for it, and my only wish was to escape from his society at Dover, as I feared he would offer to accompany me to London, and I could hardly refuse him after the service he had rendered me. I therefore lingered below some few minutes when we arrived, and looked cautiously around me when I ascended the companion-ladder; but the stranger was gone. I saw no trace of his august person then, or his superb Spanish cloak.
I hastened on with four horses to – Square, and met my weeping sisters. My mother still breathed; but that was all. The physicians could not comprehend her malady, but agreed to call it a general debility, an exhaustion of the vital energies, without any particular complaint. She was extremely weak, but knew me instantly, and smiled her welcome as I knelt and kissed her hand.
My mother was only of the middle age, which made it more strange that physical weakness should thus overpower her. I inquired at what time she was first seized; and on reference to my note-book, found out that her first appearance of illness was at the precise hour when the stranger in the Spanish cloak was sitting with me at my hotel, and talking to me of my father. Well! what of that? it was a mere chance!
It is no use disguising it. I am naturally superstitious. We can no more help the frailties of our minds than the blemishes of our features. As I sat by my declining mother's side, I pondered again and again on this mysterious stranger. I recollected how he had cured me of my sickness in a moment; how wonderfully he knew the private history of every individual; and I ended by believing that there was something of a supernatural agency about him. "Perhaps," thought I, starting up suddenly, and speaking aloud, "perhaps this wonderful cigar of his might recover my beloved mother." I searched every pocket, hoping that a remnant of it might have remained: but, no; it had been whiffed away by the ladies in the cabin, and I had not a vestige left.
When once an idea seizes hold on the mind, it scarcely ever lets go its hold. I began to consider myself mad, yet could not prevent myself from going out I knew not whither, to make inquiries for the cloaked stranger, and request him to give me another of his marvellous cigars. As I passed Louisa and Emily, my sisters, and – , now no more, they were alarmed by the wildness of my looks, and endeavoured to arrest my progress.