Fortunio, and His Seven Gifted Servants | ||
Scene Third.
—A Long Walk lined with orange-trees—The winning post and the Judge's chair, with a bell above it— A set piece crosses the stage, over which the runners pass and descend out of view; beyond, the course is continued in perspective, and the figures pass rapidly along grooves up and down.219
Emp.
This is the spot, the centre of the grove,
Here stands the winning post. In yon alcove
The judge's chair, where seated I shall be.
The daughter to Matapa here you see,
Fresh as a four-year old—of matchless speed.
For.
Her make and beauty nothing can exceed.
Vol.
Yonder is my antagonist no doubt.
For.
Fortunio names Lightfoot.
Vol.
Trot him out!
(Lightfoot advances and bows)
A scarlet runner, by his legs—
Light.
Alack,
Red legs are rarer on the turf than black.
Emp.
Come! clear the course.
(bell rings)
Fair daughter, what d'ye say
To some of our imperial Tokay
Before you start?
Vol.
A glass I'll not decline,
To run a race nought helps like racy wine!
Emp.
Some Tokay for her Highness.
Light.
And for me.
Emp.
For thee!
Vol.
It is but fair.
Emp.
So let it be!
Give him a bumper! Harkye!
To Page and whispers—Page bows and goes out—returns with goblet which he hands to Lightfoot.
For.
I misdoubt!
They'll doctor him! (to Lightfoot)
Take care what you're about.
Emp.
Our Chamberlain shall start you when you're ready.
Vol.
Come on then—
Light.
(aside)
Well that stuff is rather heady!
(aloud)
Where do we start from?
220
Yonder in the hollow.
Light.
Then lead the way.
Vol.
And keep it?
Light.
That don't follow!
For.
Now, Lightfoot, mind you run for your existence!
Emp.
Once round the course, remember, and a distance.
Music—The Emperor takes his seat in the Judge's chair— Bell rings—Chamberlain stands on the ridge and drops a flag—Volante and Lightfoot ascend the slope at the back of the stage and disappear behind it.
All.
They're off! they're off!
Off.
I'll bet a thousand to one
'Gainst Lightfoot.
For.
Sir, I take you.
Off.
Done, sir.
For.
Done.
Volante and Lightfoot re-appear running, Volante rather in advance.
Cham.
The Princess makes the running.
Emp.
All my own is.
Cham.
Six to four on her Highness.
For.
Done, in ponies.
(Exeunt Volante and Lightfoot)
Marks.
Lightfoot is holding in.
Tip.
A pretty race!
All.
Lightfoot is beaten!
Cham.
He can't live the pace.
For.
They're out of sight.
Emp.
And will be so, until
They reach the walk a-top of yonder hill;
But as my daughter runs five miles a minute,
It won't be long before you see her in it.
Bell rings as the figure of Princess is seen at the top of the hill.
Off.
And there she is—
221
Alone, as I'm a sinner!
Emp.
Hurrah! I'll bet my crown I'll name the winner.
Cham.
No takers.
The figure descends the hill rapidly, and disappears behind the rise of the stage.
For.
Where on earth can Lightfoot be?
Listen, good Fine-ear; Marksman, haste and see.
Fine.
Where'er he is, he's fast asleep, for I
Can hear him snore.
Marks.
Ha! there the rogue I spy,
Stretched out beneath a tree, full three miles off.
For.
Of all the empire I shall be the scoff!
Our lives are forfeit, too! Asleep! plague take him!
Marks.
Nay, don't despair, good master, this shall wake him. (lets fly an arrow)
For.
What have you done?
Marks.
(looking out)
Just touched his ear, I vow.
He's up and off.
The figure of Lightfoot appears at the top of the hill, and descends with incredible swiftness, disappearing behind the rise in the stage.
For.
He comes! He'll beat her now!
Princess appears on the ridge of the stage, closely followed by Lightfoot.
Courtiers.
Blue! Blue wins easy!
For. and his Men.
(as Lightfoot appears)
Scarlet, go it, Scarlet!
Emp.
Volante!
Lightfoot bounds by Princess and passes the post.
For. and his Men.
Lightfoot! Lightfoot!
Emp.
(coming out of the chair)
Curse the varlet!
For.
Won in a canter.
Emp.
Scarlet?—I'm done brown!
For.
Take care again, sir, how you bet your crown.
Gor.
The knowing ones are done this time, I say.
Tip.
There'll be long faces upon settling day.
222
O Lightfoot, what a time to sleep you chose!
Light.
I felt so drowsy, I laid down to doze,
Thinking by sleep refreshed to run the quicker!
I ne'er was overtaken, save by liquor!
For.
It was a narrow 'scape for me, 'tis clear.
Light.
Mine was an arrow 'scape, sir! just look here.
(shews Marksman's arrow sticking in his ear)
For.
Your Majesty no longer can refuse.
Emp.
Our Majesty can do whate'er we choose.
But 'tis a debt of honour, we admit;
And therefore we to pay it do think fit.
But in our Court no longer shall you tarry;
So as much treasure as one man can carry
We do permit you from our stores to bear.
For.
One man?
Emp.
We've said it. Take more if you dare!
For.
I humbly take my leave.
Emp.
You shew your sense.
For.
Strongback, you hear the Emperor's order.
Emp.
Hence!
(to Chamberlain)
You, sir, look after them and see it done.
Strong
(to Fortunio)
I'll carry, sir, enough for any one.
(music—Exeunt Fortunio and Attendants, with Chamberlain)
Vol.
I'm so provoked, papa, that I could cry;
At Tattersall's the favourite was I.
Emp.
I'm so enraged, Volante, I could roar!
I never knew you be behind before.
Vol.
Beneath a tree, asleep I left him, fast;
How could he manage to be first at last?
Enter Chamberlain, hastily.
Cham.
Where is the Emperor? Oh, sire, sire, sire!
Emp.
Now what's the matter? Is the town on fire?
Cham.
No, sire, but all your palace sacked and plundered
Of gold and silver statues full five hundred—
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The jewelled harness and the coach of state—
Treasure untold, in bullion, bars, and cash—
All by one man are carried off—slap-dash!
Emp.
All by one man? Impossible! No, no!
Cham.
Let me endure your wrath if 'tis not so.
I saw him move the goods.
Emp.
If thou dost lie,
Upon the next tree shall thou hang as high
As they can swing thee. If the truth it be,
I care not if, instead, they tuck up me.
Is this a time to stand and stare about?
You rogues and vagabonds—arm—arm, and out!
If this which he avouches doth appear,
We may write up “Unfurnished lodgings here.”
Ring the alarum bell until it crack!
At least we'll have our coach and harness back.
(Exeunt Emperor, Princess, Chamberlain, &c.—alarum bell, &c.)
Fortunio, and His Seven Gifted Servants | ||