 | The Very Last Days of Pompeii! |  |
Scene Second.
—A Court in the House of Ioné. Pompeian Interior.Enter Ione, R. 1 E., with a bouquet of flowers, followed by Nydia.
Ione.
(C.)
These are the flow'rets then, he sends by you;
How sweet their scent, how exquisite their hue!
Nydia.
(R. C.)
Imagination has one value lent.
Why, these especial flowers possess no scent!
Ione.
No scent?
Nydia.
I know for certain they've not any.
I used to sell such, ten bouquets a penny.
Ione.
If they were still the commonest that grow,
They're priceless now; his love has made them so!
Nydia.
(aside)
One failure. (aloud)
You should be a flower girl, miss.
He'd buy— (savagely)
Oh! how your hair comes out of curl, miss;
And some one will be here so soon. (That's spiteful!)
Your dress too— (arranging it.)
Ione.
(starting)
Ah!
Nydia.
(innocently)
Was that a pin? (aside)
Delightful.
Ione.
How do I look to-day?
Nydia.
(aside)
The minx! (aloud)
Oh! charming!
(aside)
I'll try another style of mild alarming.
(aloud)
Isn't he late to-day? But then you see
He's up so much at night.
Ione.
Up late? What he?
13
Nydia.
In pleasure too, not chary.
He comes in with the milk.
Ione.
The milk! how dare he!
And I can neither breakfast, dine, nor sup for him.
How do you know this, girl?
Nydia.
'Cos I've sat up for him!
Ione.
See where he comes—he shall your words disprove.
Enter Glaucus, L. 1. E., hurriedly.
Glau.
It is my lady—yes, it is my love!
How fares it, sweet Ioné?
Ione.
Well, but sad.
To send me scentless flowers! it was too bad.
Glau.
Nay, in our Grecian land, these buds so rare
A tender tale of ardent passion bear.
Ione.
Read this one. (shewing flowers.)
Glau.
“Do you love as I love you?”
Ione.
This one, pure azure?
Glau.
“Yours till all is blue!”
Ione.
This, all in green, says—
Glau.
“Will you wed me?”
Ione.
This,
All crimson blushing whispers—
Glau.
(kissing her)
Just one kiss!
In these unread no perfume, love, is blent,
But question them, you'll find they'll give a-ssent.
(to Nydia)
There, you can go! Get out!
Nydia.
(disgusted)
Well, I declare!
(aside)
I'll send Arbaces up the private stair;
With him consult, and see if he can not,
To Nydia suggest an 'idious plot!
With a Thessalian no soul shall trifle—
She's a great gun, but I'm a dang'rous rifle!
Glau.
(to Ione)
Come, sing to me!
Ione.
(pettishly)
Why don't she go?
Glau.
I'll tell her.
(crosses to C.)
Retire, my girl, to some convenient cellar.
Ione.
She frets me so, I cannot catch the mere-key.
Nydia.
I'm off.
Exit, R. 1 E.
Glau.
She's gone. (they are about to embrace)
Re-enter Nydia.
Nydia.
I've come back for the beer key.
Ione.
Again! this is too much! I'm quite de trop:
No doubt you've got your secrets, so I'll go.
Exit, L. 1 E.
14
Glau.
There's not a breeze at early dawn,
There's not a flower in all the grove,
There's not a bud that scents the lawn,
Is half so sweet as is my love.
By day I muse, by night I dream,
Her fairy form I still can see;
And by a thousand pretty signs,
I know my love was meant for me.
Search through the world from shore to shore,
Where is a heart so proud to see?
For oh! I love the fairest maid,
And oh! the fairest maid loves me.
Nydia.
There's not a slave that toils on earth,
There's not a freeman 'neath the sky,
There's not a soul throughout the world,
Is half so sad at heart as I.
I nurse a passion, wild and deep,
Yet know no joy may ever be,
For though I love the dearest youth,
The youth I love cares not for me.
Search through the world, from shore to shore,
Where is the heart so sad to see?
For, oh! I love the fairest youth,
But he, alas! cares not for me.
Both sing the last four lines of their respective verses and exeunt, R. 1 E.
Enter Apæcides, L. 1 E.
Apæ.
Play on, young things, who know not tear or sigh,
I too, was once a careless butterfly;
Now, on my cheek distress has left its traces,
In lines, which fall in very awkward places.
Oh! vile magician! (vile, for what I suffer)
Vile, in the sense of being an utter duffer!
Why did he show me tricks, French, British, German,
And vow that his man soon should rival Herr-man?
But let me see to business! He has gone
To seek Vesuvius and its witch, alone.
There 'midst familiar spirits—gin and rum—
She drives a roaring trade as medi-um!
So I'll stay here to spoil his round of flummery,
And in good time unroll th' Egyptian mummy-ry.
Then I'll transfer, when quite I've played my part,
15
He comes!
Enter Arbaces, L. 1 E.
Arba.
How now! have you discharged your cares?
Where is the earthquake?
Apæ.
In a bag down stairs.
Arba.
Where's the eruption?
Apæ.
'T won't be good I fear,
For squibs, I find, have got uncommon dear.
Arba.
Slave! do you make mere money a pretence?
Get two at once, regardless of expence.
We'll do the thing in style, young fellow, for-it is
A rule with me to give the best authorities!
Duet.—“Perhaps She's on the Railway.”
Arba.
We are the great Illusionists,
As any one may see,
Apæ.
Who leaves outside by way of form
A small admission fee.
Arba.
No other artist's genuine,
His tricks but copies are.
Apæ.
We are the real Simon Pures,
Who've travelled near and far.
Arba.
Perhaps upon the railway with a dash and style,
Apæ.
Perhaps we've walked for want of means some eighty thousand mile,
Both.
Perhaps we're up, perhaps we're down, but these results we see—
We make a gain by legerdemain, wherever we may be.
Apæ.
We are the first performers
Of the famous basket feat,
Which means we steal a basket-full
Of lots to drink and eat!
Arba.
We also borrow half-a-crown,
And e'er you could explain,
Hi, Presto, quick! we've done the trick,
It's never seen again.
Apæ.
We've tried this on the railway, with a swell so rare.
Arba.
Perhaps he goes and cuts up rough and says it isn't fair,
Both.
Perhaps we go and bonnet him, perhaps for weeks twice three
We then refrain from legerdemain, being lodged and boarded free.
Apæ.
We've got up bubble companies
With fine fictitious names,
But find the thriving dodge of all
Is making doubtful claims.
16
Our former jokes were good enough,
But counsel all agree,
Our latest jest has reached the height
Of Wagga-Wagga-ry!
Both.
Perhaps it is the rale way, if you cut a shine,
To plunder all your fellow-men and try the swindling line;
Perhaps it's not the proper thing, but this result you see,
We make a gain by legerdemain as long as fools shall be.
Hush! some one comes. (Apæcides stands aside, R.)
Re-enter Ione, L. 1 E.
Ione
(aside)
This fellow in my hall!
How came you here? how do you dare to call?
Arba.
I couldn't help it, you are so enthralling!
Don't interrupt a party in his calling.
What I've endured to gain a smile from you,
The ignominy that I now pass through,
Should move you! Vain philosophies, farewell!
My moral axioms are all a “sell.”
I plainly see divided thus from you,
The Youthful and the Beautiful are two.
Ione.
You know I hate you.
Arba.
So you always say,
I've heard that heartless speech for many a day.
See how I've fallen off. This body vile,
Is like my native land, reduced to Nihil.
From Pharaoh's realm, rich gifts I bring, my fair-oh:
I ransack Egypt, yet you do not Cair-o;
I spurn my food, my drink is all pretence,
I live a fast life in the starving sense.
Of trivial woes I do not give detailment;
Be my sup-porter in this bitter ail-ment.
Trio.—“Barber's Daughter.”
Arba.
(L.)
Oh! at your feet behold Arbaces,
Once so rightly termed the Great,
View with pity what his case is,
See his most distressful state.
All day long I'm sighy, groany,
Beauty, all along of you!
Fair Ioné, don't be stony,
Or I'll tell you what I'll do.
I'll throw myself off London Bridge,
And jump into the water,
And down, down, down, I'll drown, drown, drown,
For the sake of your father's daughter.
17
(C.)
Oh! prythee, dark man, cease your pleading,
All your arts are quite in vain;
You've no chance of e'er succeeding,
Go! and don't come back again.
Take my brother, now you've tricked him,
Teach him dodges that won't pay;
But Ioné's not your victim,
She was not born yesterday.
So throw yourself off London Bridge.
And jump into the water,
And down, down, down, you may drown, drown, drown,
For the sake of my father's daughter.
Apæ.
(R.)
Oh! hear the gay and young assistant,
Who is pledged to help his chief;
Don't be quite so jolly distant,
Promise, but don't give relief.
Answer him, like sugar, sweetly,
Whether you're annoyed or not;
If you don't behave discreetly,
I shall catch it awful hot.
(aside)
Though he throws himself off London Bridge,
He'll never die in water;
But he'll meet his fate, some morn at eight,
For the sake of my father's daughter.
(Chorus)
Ione.
Go away, black man. Go! you plead in vain,
Pray don't approach the subject, sir, again.
Arba.
Black man! derided! I'll have satisfaction.
Apæ.
(who has got round to L. of Arbaces)
Might I remind you that it's time for action?
If you won't bow to Fate, and patience learn
A man, you know, must bow, when it's his turn.
Ione.
My brother!
Arba.
(furiously)
Yes! He comes at fitting crisis,
Bring forth the earthquake and the head of Isis.
Exit Apæcides, L. 1 E.
Now haughty Beauty! see! the fates are willing.
Music.—Re-enter Apæcides, L. 1 E., bringing on the head of Isis on a pedestal. The eyes are transparent and the mouth made to work; also a small box marked “The Earthquake,” which contains a cannon ball.
Apæ.
I couldn't get a better for a shilling:
Considering the price, it's rather like.
Arba.
Behold! (chord—then Music sustained tremolo until Glaucus enters)
Apæ.
(fumbling)
Excuse me! but the match won't strike.
18
Let out the earthquake! see how Isis grins!
The goddess smiles on me!
Apæ.
(shakes small cannon ball in box)
Here, mind your shins!
(he rolls the cannon ball across the stage)
Enter Glaucus and Nydia R. 1 E.—(They have to avoid the cannon ball.)
Glau.
(turning Ione round to R. C., threatens Arbaces)
Good gracious! what means this?
Nydia.
(R.)
Oh! tempt him not.
Glau.
(R. C.)
Pooh! he's a quack! I'd kick him on the spot,
Were you not present!
Ione.
(R. C.)
Kick the Egyptian Priest!
Apæ.
(getting between Glaucus and Ione)
I don't believe 'twould hurt him in the least.
You can but try.
(he retires up to back and gets round to L. of Arbaces)
Arba.
(L. C.)
I threaten and despise you.
The wise Egyptian publicly defies you.
Apæ.
(L.)
A splendid thought has come into my brain,
(seizing Arbaces and bringing him down, L.)
Let's do the earthquake and the head again!
(Arbaces goes up with contempt)
(aloud)
You've dealt with pliant wills, he tells you freely
He's Eastern, and you cannot bend his, really.
Nyd.
(R.)
What's come to both of them, they look so queer!
Ione.
Take me away from him, do, Glaucus dear.
He frightens me.
Glau.
(to Arbaces)
Away!
Arba.
I'll not “away!”
Apæ.
Of course as his assistant I must stay,
To sweep up Isis, if she goes a cropper.
(he takes the head and box off L. 1 E. and returns immediately)
Nyd.
I fear this priest is something quite improper.
Why did I e'er consult with him?
Ione.
Pray go!
Arba.
And leave you to that Jack-a-Dandy? No!
Glau.
This passes all endurance, I declare,
Get out!
Apæ.
(aside, laughing)
He'll catch it.
Arba.
Nev-ar!
Glau.
Well then—There!
Chord—he hits at Arbaces, who turns Apæcides in front to catch the blow. Apæcides is floored)
Apæ.
Oh, dear! a slight mistake.
Arba.
(bawling)
Help! murder! Ho!
He's whopped a citizen! that's death you know.
19
I see it all.
Enter hastily Sallust, Diomed, and Burbo, L. 1 E.—Burbo gets round to R.
Glau.
Duped, swindled, and deceived.
Sall.
(L. C.)
What's this?
Arba.
(L. C.)
The Priest himself will be believed.
Burb.
(R.)
I saw the blow! I'll swear to it.
Nyd.
Oh, cease!
Apæ.
(C.)
The villain! what a loss to the police.
Arba.
Secure him fast! when you have cuffed and kicked him,
Remember at the games they want a victim.
All.
Ay! Glaucus to the Lion!
Glau.
(R. C., bitterly)
These are friends!
Ione.
Who fawned upon you, while you served their ends.
Sall.
If folks will break the laws, why they must rue it.
Dio.
(L.)
Common assault!
Nydia.
(sneering)
You've not the pluck to do it.
Ione.
My love!
Arba.
Be off with him at once.
Nydia.
Oh, mercy!
Spare him!
Ione.
Yes, do!
Arba.
Spare him? No, vice-versy.
Burbo.
We'll have our law—one victim now at least.
The Lion gets your Glaucus.
Nydia.
Happy beast!
Apæ.
This is the British Lion. No pretence.
Sall.
Imported at a fabulous expense.
Apæ.
I've seen the monster, and I will maintain
He is a Lion of great might—and mane!
Arba.
They've kept him starving since last Saturday.
Nydia.
Oh, Glaucus!
Ione.
Oh, Glaucus!
Glau.
Keep your spirits up!
Arba.
Away!
Sallust and Diomed exeunt L. 1 E. Burbo and Ione, R. 1 E.
Quartette—“The Birds will come again.”
Glau.
Come no delaying,
Why all this staying?
Pray take your vengence; my love, a long farewell.
Nydia.
Here's a conclusion, ruin, confusion.
Arba.
'Tis no illusion, all's up, unhappy swell.
Nydia.
Good-bye, my own love; take this small loan, love.
20
(getting between Glaucus and Nydia)
Dear, trusting creature, you'll not be paid again.
Nydia.
Though you are parted,
Don't be down-hearted.
Arba.
Time 'twas we parted, to catch an early train.
Glau.
Farewell, Ioné, like a bird I'll come again!
Nydia.
(L. C.)
Lions and tigers are,
Beasts than you milder far.
Arba.
(L.)
After the first bite, it's not so hard to bear.
Apœ
(R. C.)
Rage! Indignation! Ex-as-pe-ra-tion!
Arba.
Sad information, we're late I do declare.
Glau.
(R.)
Good-bye, my sweet love, hear me repeat, love,
Arba.
(producing “Railway Guide”)
Egyptian Bradshaw, correct, you are aware.
Glau.
Though we are parted,
Don't be down-hearted;
Farewell, Ioné, like a bird I'll come again!
Chorus.
Though we/you are parted, don't be down-hearted,
Time 'tis you/we started, to catch an early train.
Pray dry those tears, dear, quit your sad fears, dear!
If he's/I'm not killed, he/I like a bird will come again.
(repeat Chorus)
Exeunt Arbaces and Nydia, L. 1 E., Glaucus and Apæcides, R. 1 E.
| The Very Last Days of Pompeii! | |