 | The Very Last Days of Pompeii! |  |
Scene Third.
—The Amphitheatre; Mount Vesuvius at back; seats round the Arena (outside the ring).A small Black Boy, discovered raking up stage, as at a circus— Citizens and Populace, discovered seated outside the ring, C. and L.
Enter Sallust and Diomed, R. 2 E.
Sall.
The clearest case, I think I ever saw,
The very plainest fraction of the law.
Diom.
Well! all his fortune's confiscate perforce,
'Twas well we cut his company of course.
Ioné's fearfully cut up I hear.
Sall.
Ah! that will last a week or so.
Diom.
Poor dear!
Sall.
It was a shabby trick of old Arbaces.
Enter Lydon and Burbo, L. 2 E.
Burb.
(L.)
Now, noble swells, suppose you take your places.
21
(L. C.)
Give us the tip, old fellow; will he fight?
Lydon.
(C.)
The lion has been roaring all the night—
They've kept him on short commons all the week.
Sall.
That being the case, I shall not back the Greek.
What is the programme, Burbo?
Burb.
As it's fixed,
The sports I think are creditably mixed.
Lydon.
Niger and Sporus, Burbo and the rest of us,
Challenge all comers here to get the best of us,
With sword or cestus! Then more sport in snatches,
The great Quadrillion Troupe in wrestling matches.
Then Glaucus and the Lion! So we do it!
Exit, R. 2 E.
Sall.
Delightful! if you only live to view it.
Diom.
I back him!
Burb.
(crossing, R.)
Stop! Get out! I can't be worried.
Sall.
Come on! (going up stage)
Diom.
How hot the sun is! (seating himself outside the ring, L.)
Sall.
(seating himself outside of the ring, L.)
Aint it torrid!
Enter Arbaces and Nydia, L. 1 E.
Nydia.
Oh, my!
Arba.
Shut up that caterwauling, do!
Time presses, and I've got a change to do.
Keep up!
Nydia.
I shan't!
Arba.
Then I shall drop you!
Nydia.
Don't!
Arba.
Leave off your foolish blubbering.
Nydia.
I won't.
I'll die!
Arba.
Well, die! but pray be quick about it.
Let go my arm.
Nydia.
(savagely)
Oh! I can do without it.
Ten minutes to the time.
Sall.
Too fast.
Arba.
(producing large watch)
Too slow.
Egypt alone boasts watches; and I know—
Burb.
(R.)
You're in a hurry, master.
Arba.
Come, begin, sir.
You go too slow!
Burb.
Well, that's the way to Win-sir!
Exit, R. 2 E.
Nydia.
Where is Apæcides?
Arba.
Not very far,
He's down below at the refreshment bar.
Sall.
I wonder if Ioné's going?
22
Ione.
Yes.
Diom.
That's plucky.
Apæ.
(C.)
Shouldn't fancy, I confess,
To see my lover clawed up, chawed up, eaten,
And half a dozen men to mummies beaten;
The taste of woman, though, inclines to strife,
That makes her anxious to become a wife.
Ione.
(to Nydia)
D'ye think he's safe?
Nydia.
I've done the best I can.
Ione.
Oh! what an end for such a nice young man!
How will stern fortune settle this sad question?
Arba.
We can't escape our fate.
Apæ.
Nor indigestion.
Arba.
Silence!
(Ione and Nydia go to their places, R., at back, outside the arena)
Apæ.
Allow me space for some slight grumbling,
I've just been practising my lofty tumbling.
Arba.
With what success?
Apæ.
As far as bruises tell,
I may confess I tumbled very well.
Arba.
You've been imbibing; oh! I know you're fond
Of patronising classic Spiers and Pond.
Treating the athletes, too—I have my fears.
Have you been pondering among the spears?
Apæ.
Not I! All wine I look upon with dread.
I've been two hours standing on my head.
As to my tight-rope practice, you're no prophet!
Arba.
You got on?
Apæ.
Yes, and speedily got off it!
In some new line an artist's fame I'll search,
I was an acher, with no pole nor perch.
Arba.
The world's alike, from potboys up to Popes;
You're only disappointed in your r-opes.
Enter Burbo, R. 2 E.
Burb.
Look sharp!
Arba.
All right! (going up stage, R.)
Sall.
Now then, step up, Arbaces.
Apæ.
Shut up! We've got an order for two places.
Ione.
Don't come near me, you wretch!
Nydia.
You monster!
Arba.
Pooh!
It isn't such a treat to sit by you!
(bell rings)
Apæ.
(banging gong, R.)
Hi, hi!
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Hi, hi!
Sall.
(rising)
Shut up, and order there!
Arba.
Silence yourself, young party with the hair!
Omnes.
Here, turn him out!
Apæ.
(frightened)
I say, you'll see me through it?
Arba.
“Turn out,” with pleasure friends, but who's to do it?
(trumpets)
Ione.
Here come the men!
Nydia.
Keep still or you shall go!
Apæ.
We're parties as enjoy to see the show!
Music.—Enter Burbo, Lydon and all the Gladiators, R. 2 E.— they march in procession, headed by Burbo—they salute Sallust and divide, R. and L.
Burb.
The Greek, Tetraides, will engage with Sporus!
Sall.
Bring out at once the warriors before us.
(Music—combat—Sporus is floored)
Arba.
Oh, charming! quite the classic Roman air.
Apæ.
It's quite as good as reading Lemprière.
Burb.
Burbo and Lydon, with the net and spear!
Nydia.
The classic Blindman's Buff, this is, my dear.
(Music—combat)
Apæ.
He's in a mesh! It most exciting gets.
Arba.
It's like a Spanish dance with castin' nets.
(Burbo catches Lydon)
Arba.
Enough! This programme's slow, I shan't get through it.
Get out, young man, and show 'em how to do it.
(drags Apæcides over the barrier into the arena)
GRAND PERFORMANCE OF THE QUADRILLION TROUPE. (a mock Acrobatic display ad lib.)
Sall.
That's over; now to see the rarest show.
(Arbaces and Apæcides resume their seats)
Out with the Lion there!
Ione.
The Lion,—oh!
Nydia.
Keep up your courage; pray don't give way so.
See, here comes Glaucus.
Ione.
Oh! how pale he looks.
Nydia.
Just like a party in the fashion books.
Music—Enter Glaucus, R. 1 E., with white tunic, shield and short sword.
Glau.
(L. C.)
Ioné!
Ione.
Glaucus!
Glau.
(going to her)
Here to see me die?
Apæ.
(aside to Ione)
Say it's all right.
Nydia.
You hear, relief is nigh.
24
How's that?
Apæ.
(aside to him)
A little scheme I had to try on,
Last night, I hocussed—
Glau.
Me?
Apæ.
Not you—the Lion!
We are observed.
Arba.
Young man! I pray, step back,
You'll have those dainty hands full in a crack.
Bring out the Lion!
Sall.
(rising)
I the orders give!
Glau.
We'll hope for better times, love, if I live.
E'en now to gaze upon thy lovely face,
Dispels the gloomy terrors of this place.
Farewell!
Ione.
Oh! cruel fate, our hearts to sever.
Farewell!
Nydia.
No! Au revoir!
Arba.
I say “for ever!”
Ione.
Wretch!
Arba.
Thank ye!
Nydia.
Monster!
Glau.
False and juggling priest!
Arba.
Hooray! it don't annoy me in the least. (Music)
Enter the Lion, R. 2 E., he is a large but mild-looking animal— he sits down, and washes his face like a cat.
Arba.
Call that a Lion!
Apæ.
Milder than a pup.
Lanista, come and stir the beggar up!
Burbo, stirs him up with a spear—the Lion growls, and advances towards him—he exits, R. 2 E.
Glau.
(L. C., aside)
He spoke the truth.
Sall.
The brute, how I could lash ye!
Apæ.
I've seen a better made of papier maché.
Glau.
(L. C.)
You see, the Lion he objects to fight
'Gainst any foe whose cause is in the right.
Is it not so? He'll never fight with me?
(the Lion walks to him and shakes hands, then goes to Apæcides, who gives him a sandwich and some beer, they hob and nob)
Arba.
This is a “put-up” thing, I plainly see.
Revenge I'll have! since he declines to kill,
And no one has a prior right, “I will.”
(jumps into the arena—Music.
(L. C.)
Come on, proud Greek! I tell you you're defied,
Though you've the British Lion by your side.
25
You do not value at a penny, Isis.
You stole my love, and, (quite your greatest blunder!)
Laughed at my earthquake and defied my thunder.
Now, 'tis my turn! no craven beast is here!
Come on! I always hated you, my dear.
(he rushes on Glaucus—the Lion seizes him and holds him down)
Omnes.
A miracle! At once remove the Greek!
Arbaces to the Lion!
Apæ.
(jumping into arena)
Let me speak!
Get out! (taking Lion away)
You tawny humbug! now then yield.
Arba.
I do, I'm wrong, I should have backed the field.
(all the Characters come into arena)
Glau.
(R. C.)
You see I'm saved.
Nydia.
(R. C.)
You owe it all to me.
Ione.
(R.)
It's true! but we'll explain it presently.
Glau.
(to Arba.)
Come now, confess yourself a cheat, a sham,
A common conjuror.
Arba.
(dolefully)
I am! I am!
Apæ.
(C.)
In Isis' mound if you're to search inclined,
The little secrets of his craft you'll find;
All sorts of apparatus from the shops,
Boxes with bird-seed glued upon the tops,
False-bottomed chests—I give you leave to rummage 'em;
Sham rings, sham watches, everything that's Brummagem,
False packs of cards, false dice, false pistols, guns,
Rabbits and pigeons both with little ones.
Some flags, a hat, six gold fish in a pond,
Two cannon balls, a summons, and his wand!
Sall.
(L.)
They're confiscate!
Omnes.
And he must quit the city.
Arba.
(rising)
Wretched Pompeians, accept my pity.
For see the avenging mountain—
(a Man is seen trying to light a squib at the top of mountain)
All.
(laughing)
No, it don't!
Glau.
Not till the tag is spoken, friend, it won't.
Arba.
Sold! (going up)
Apæ.
(seizing him)
What's my quantity?
All.
(excited)
Yes, tell him, please!
Arba.
Upon my honour it's Apæcides. (cheers)
(to audience)
The people here have got a sparing fit on,
So pray excuse the subject we have Lytton.
Nydia.
I know I should be drowned, but pray forgive,
You make the sacrifice and let me live!
26
'Tis true we ought to be engulphed to-night,
And for our impudence, perhaps, 'twere right.
Glau.
But as the city, in the poet's pages,
Survives, and will survive, no doubt, for ages.
Do you establish in our little realm us,
And only with your plaudits overwhelm us!
Finale.—“Awfully Clever.”
Glau.
Dear public, don't fly in a passion.
But laugh at this nonsense we've done,
Apæ.
And cheer in your kindly old fashion,
Which shows you forgive us our fun.
Nydia.
'Tis done but to make you all merry,
So look with benevolent eyes;
Arba.
And think us not tedious very,
Although we're not awfully wise.
Glau.
Though we know we're not awfully clever,
Apæ.
No, not clever! Say you never
Nydia.
Have been less disinclined to cry Brava!
Ione.
And will cheer as you've cheered us before!
(all repeat last four lines twice)
| Burbo. | Spor. | Apæ. | Ione. | Glau. | Nydia. | Arba. | Sallus. | Diom. |
| R. | L. |
Curtain.
| The Very Last Days of Pompeii! | |