University of Virginia Library

SCENE.—Robinson Crusoe's Island—Practicable bushes, L. U. E.—The Sands and Sea at the back—Tropical Plants, Trees, &c. R. and L.—Thick vegetation, L.—R. all open to the seaward.—A large stick L. 2 E with notches on it, above it a board painted “Crusoe's Complete Almanack and Mneomonic Memorandum—Music, “Robinson Crusoe.”
Enter Crusoe from L. in appropriate costume, he carries his umbrella open, his parrot on his shoulder, according to the plates—He goes to stick and cuts another notch in it—then sighs.
Crusoe.
To-day the twenty-eight year is attained
Since 'neath this umberella I have reigned
Monarch of all that I survey, tis true,
(Sometimes one wishes that one wasn't too.)
My name's Robinson Crusoe—perhaps you
Have read a book about me—if not, why do.
Since on this island's sandy strand I stranded
Twenty-eight years since—what's happen'd since I landed
I'll tell you every tittle—No—p'raps you
Might think it tedious—pr'aps 'twould be so too.
So I'll condense. I am a single fella,
Unincumbered save by my umbrella.
(fetching a Cat on.
My cat—a most purr-tic'lar friend of mine—
My parrot—

Parrot.
Pretty Poll!

Crusoe.
With whom I dine—
The only female soul—and she's a he—
Who on this island speaks a word to me.
Ah Bella long lost—best bell-a-ove-a-ed—
I wonder if thou'rt living or art dead?
Or what's worse single—pr'aps she's married?
We broke a sixpence when we met to part—
Swore to be faithful or each break the heart.
I wonder if her's broke?—I know that mine
Did not—nor felt inclined to pique or pine.
My heart did try to break tho'—but it couldn't,
It was such very rough, tough stuff, it wouldn't.
I am the total population here,
And have been since I was first cast up there—
(pointing R.
Tho' strange to say, the exact Defoe to speak,
There is a ‘small cove’ close unto the creek.

Music.—“Fra Poco” “Lucia di Lammermoor”—Robinson Crusoe advances to symphony after coughing as if about to sing the Scena—just as the Symphony concludes he sees footprint in the sands, C. and starts with horror.
Crusoe.
The footprint of a man! Not mine (measuring)
No! Who?
'Tis my impression 'tis another's too!
Whose can it be?—Whose foot?—I do not know!
I cannot guess! I'm bother'd in to-to!
Some one has landed in my island, dear—
Some savage Prince—a print's left; very clear,
And then struck off—a proof he has been here.
Then why but one foot? most people have two!
Pr'haps he'd a wooden leg—Ah! very true!
Untoward fate! perhaps my hut he'll unto.
My flocks, my birds, my goats he'll hunt O.
Robinson! Robinson, where shall you run to?
(He looks off L. 1 E.
What see I! Canoes that only blacks can use
Landing and—Crusoe courage! “The man who's—
But I can't stay repeating adages,
Savages ravages my cabbages,
My live-stock, liquors, Lares and Penates,
My flocks, fowls, oats, goats, parrots, and potaties.
The first who crosses me—my path who stops—
My rifle soon shall make a Rifle Corpse.

Presents his gun—Music—Friday runs on, L. 1 E. and falls at Robinson Crusoe's feet in the conventional Exeter-Hall-man-and-brother attitude—he has chains on his wrists.
SONG.—Friday—“We're a band of brothers.”— (Christy's, with the original dip.)

Crusoe.
Oh, Day and Martin—this is wondrous queer!
I'll be no niggard—but this nigger spare.
Rise, sable brother, tho' 'tis very true
That with this gun I could dis-able you,
That would be disabl-iging—Say, poor man,
From whence you came?

Friday.
Out of de frying-pan
Up to your fire. My foes dar took me,
And instantly, of course, were gwine to cook me.
Don't eat! Do spare me for I am too spare.
Twill be well done, altho' such conduct's rare.
I'm tough and sinewy-eating, indeed-ee.

Crusoe.
Insinew-eating savage—I'm not greedy,
Can'st thou be mild and gentle, eh?

Friday.
As lamb.

Crusoe.
And are thy nation Cannibals?

Friday.
They ham.

Crusoe.
Wil't be my servant?

Friday.
If you engages
Me.

Crusoe.
My friend, agreed—I give no wages,
And you will find yourself—

Friday.
Myself!

Crusoe.
(continuing)
Quite jolly
Tending on me, my kids, my goats, and Polly.

Friday.
You're married den?

Crusoe.
Oh no—are you?

Friday.
Oh yes,
I left at home 'bout fifty wives, I guess.
Your wife call Polly?

Crusoe.
'Tis a bird—I see
You're thinking now of Polly-bigamy.

Friday.
I'm yours—your hewer of wood or aught-a
To wait at table with your ewer of water.

Crusoe.
Your name?

Friday.
Got none—spec's I grow'd.

Crusoe.
(seized by an idea)
Is't Sunday?
No Thursday—no—yesterday was Monday.
Where's my almanack? (looking at stick, then at Friday)
Well limb'd and tidy,
You were near fried to-day—I'll call you Friday.
You'll bless the day that you were nearly ate
And I preserved you from that cruel fate.
So Friday, welcome to this ait or island.
My new-found friend and co-mate in exile—and

(Friday kneels and kisses Robinson Crusoe's hand.
DUET.—Robinson Crusoe and Friday,—Air—“A master I have!”
Crusoe.
A master you have, and you are his man,

Friday.
Parrot, Umbrella, and Gun.

Crusoe.
A master you have, and you are his man,
And he'll get back to England as fast as he can
With his saily gaily
Interesting tale he
Will sell well and tell well,
And lots of editions through run.

Air—“Le Petit Tambour.
Friday.
From butcher's knife—you saved my life,
I was near serv'd up for dinner,
When off I goes, slick from my foes
Who the fire were prepar in-a.
And you upon the sands I met,
Pity was not denied me;
You learnt my danger, lack-a-day,
And unto you these words I say—
Regret you shall not—indeed you shall not—
Saving the life of poor Friday.
(Purrs like a cat about Robinson Crusoe.
Regret you shall not—indeed you shall not—
Saving the life of poor Friday.

(Friday looks off L., and is alarmed.
Friday.
Massa, Canoes!

Crusoe.
Canoes! Whose can they be?

Friday.
The foes!—The warlike tribe of Man-i-ti!
Returns by a short-cut! Massa, We's dead!

Crusoe.
Stand backer Friday, hide your negro-head.

Robinson Crusoe and Friday conceal themselves behind the bushes, R. U. E.—Monotonous noise of Indian Drum heard—Expressive Music—Enter Two Savages with the Mysterious Stranger, bound—they lay him with his face upon the ground L. 1 E.—Enter a Procession of Six Savages, all dancing, one beating the drum—One Savage with a cap and apron like a Cook, a large ladle in one hand and a knife in the other—King Hokee Pokee last, a cocked hat and cauliflower on his head, and an old naval uniform and epaulettes over his aboriginal habiliments—They all dance round their victim—The King is a very fat old nigger.
SONG and CHORUS.
King.
Hokee pokee winkey fum
Riddle-ti-tiddlety—oodle—um,
In three canoes across we've come,
I'm King of the Cannibal Islands!
I am a Monarch grand and great,
I've sixty ton of wives—good weight—
And each one does the other hate
As women do, when intimate.
We've come across to have a feast,
We've victuals for a day at least—
Six blacks, three girls—a Spanish Priest
To gladden our animal eyelids.

CHORUS of Savages,
who dance round the King.
Hokee pokee winkey fum,
Riddle-ti-tiddlety—oodle—um,
In three canoes across we've come
With the King of the Cannibal Islands.

(Cokee-Stokee advances and kneels to King, and touches the earth with his forehead.)
Cokee.
Hokee Pokee Winkey Fum,
How would you like your prisoners done?

King.
Dipp'd in treacle—then biled in rum,
For the King of the Cannibal Islands!

Cokee.
We've baby steaks

King.
Oh! they're gollop—
Shus.

Cokee.
And nice Missionary chops,
Which fried in oil with turnip tops
Even the carte at Verey's whops.

King.
The very things for a pic-nic,
So seize that slave at once—be quick,
And with your knives his gizzard stick,
For the King of the Cannibal Islands.

(Chorus and Dance repeated.
Crusoe
(presenting gun at Savages)
If we let fly, they'll fly. I see my course—
Emancipate that black I will—per force.

Savages take out their knives, and forming a half-circle round the Stranger, are about to kill him, when two shots are fired behind the Scenes—All the Savages fall on their faces, and run off on their hands and knees— Crusoe and Friday emerge from their concealment, and belabour the King, who crawls off last, L. as Prince Hal and Poins beat off Falstaff.—Crusoe and Friday return.
Crusoe.
(pointing to Stranger, who is still on his face)
The slaves are scatter'd. Friday, quick look to him,
Poor undone man!

Friday.
They was a goin to stew him.
Massa—he's bound—so we're bound to undo him.

Music.—Friday cuts the bonds—the Old Man kicks with pain as Friday uses his knife incautiously— The Old Man rises, Friday sits him on his knee— They both start, and run into opposite corners.
Crusoe.
Why what's the matter, Friday? Is there danger?
And what's amiss with this mysterious stranger?

(The Two Niggers rush into each other's arms and testify extreme joy—Friday rubs his father's legs and head.)
Crusoe.
Why, Friday, are you mad?

Friday.
Iss, massa—rader!

Crusoe.
What's up?

Friday.
Dat ole rac-coon dar is my fader!

(They rush into each other's arms again.
Crusoe.
How strange that Friday e'er should have a pa!
Oh Providence! thy ways mysterious are!
(In rubbing his father's leg, Friday pinches him, the Old Man shrieks out)
It's very touching—I'm quite overcome,
It would remind me of poor Uncle Tom.
But 'tis so true to nature—yes—and there
“Ends all similitude between the pair!”

Friday.
Fader—dat's massa—mind how you behave!
I is in service now—though not a slave—
How to live free—out o' liv'ry he'll show.

Father.
Lor!

Friday.
Dat is my massa an' deliver-or!
So pay your rev'rence to de gubnor—do.
Salute him fader.

Father.
(going on his knees, and hitting ground with his forehead)
Hoop-de-dooden-doo!

Friday.
(interpreting and bowing extravagantly)
Which means in Carib tongue, that life and light,
And liberty, an' love, an' appetite,
And all de blessins' dat on earth do dwell,
Are naught compar'd to seein' you quite well.
Fadar, on dat last compliment improve.

Father.
(with same action as before)
Skin-a-ma-link-jube-up-a-jube-em-joove!

Friday.
Which means, massa, de brightess ob your eyes
Dazzle um like de sunbeams at sunrise.
Your manners, morals, suavity and state,
Your grammar, graces, gravity and gait,
Circumslogdollogize him!

Crusoe.
Oh! language rare,
So much that means—and yet of words so spare.
How fine a tongue for verbose commentator,
Or for a Parliamentary debater.

Friday.
Massa—dis ole child has much more to say.
Fader, be eloquent.

Father.
(as before)
Doodah-doodah-day!

Friday.
I tell you what he means massa, sir this 'tis—

Crusoe.
His meaning, Friday, is as clear as Christy's.

Friday.
Sit down, fader, you're tired—you're fat—I say
It's close to Friday, you are sat-to-day.
(They sit on stage—Friday fetches calabash)
Pr'aps you're Thursday (thirsty)
(gives him drink)
Hope you not much bruis'd, eh?
Your son dey try to kill, but he not choos'd eh?

(Tom Smith, Robinson, Will Fry, and Sailors
heard without, R. singing in chorus, at great distance)
AIR.—“The Bay of Biscay.”
Our captain has knock'd under
To mutiny's dread power;
Our game is pipes and plunder,
And all we can de-w-our.
We'll have a jolly lark
From morning's light till dark.
We'll sing and play
All night and day,
And swig away
At whiskey, oh!

(Friday and his Father lie on the ground listening.— Crusoe in picture with his gun.
Friday.
Massa, what's dat?

Crusoe.
“This isle is full of noises!”

Friday.
And ugly noises judging by them woices!
Who am dey?

Crusoe.
(looking through telescope)
I know not.

Friday.
Fader, do you?
If so, speak out!

Father.
(as before)
Diddle-cum, dinkey-do!

Crusoe.
Strange sailors—of what nation?

Friday.
Massa, spy now!
Hark, dey're all swearing!

Crusoe.
(closing his glass)
Then they're English I know.
My pouch, quick crouch—to day is big with fate,
Hide here—an idea comes pat to my pate.
Retreat!

Friday.
What! run away?

Crusoe.
This is instant!

Friday.
Oh!

Crusoe.
Thus Robin Crusoe runs off from de foe!

(they hide behind bushes, L. U. E.
Smith.
(without)
Hill-i-ho! hill-i-ho!
Enter Smith, R. a very piratical looking sailor.
Where have I got toe?
I'm ill—heigho! climbing than hill high, O!
(sits down on rock.
Reef my old anchor, but I feel quite blown!
Hilli-ho-ing! finding I was all hill-i-one! (alone)


Tom.
(without, R.)
Tom Smith!

Smith.
What, Robinson! that you?

Tom.
Ay, ay!

Smith.
Starboard your hellum—tell us, where's Will Fry?

Fry.
(without, R.)
Tom Smith!

Smith.
What, William!

Fry.
All right, here am I!

Enter Tom Robinson, Fry, and Mutineers, R. guarding Captain Bailey, who is in irons.
Fry.
Now heave a-head! (showing knife)


Captain.
(L. frightened)
Oh, don't your captain slaughter,
Who's lost to-day his brig and beauteous daughter.
My daughter, oh, my—

Fry.
There, belay your jaw,
Or we'll be-laying you upon the floor.
We've mutinied, and you're the bilboes clapped in.

Smith.
Bill bo! look out! here comes our new captain.

Music.—Mutineers shout.—Enter Will Atkins, R. costumed as a compound of shrewd Yankee, and melodramatic pirate—revolvers in his belt, bowie knife, rifle at his back.
SONG.—Air—“I'm afloat!”—Atkins.
I'm ashore, I'm ashore, we have all mutin-i-ed,
And my late captain's daughter shall soon be my bride;
I'm a blackguard and rascal from top to the toe,
And I'm proud of my infamy as you'll soon know.
I heed not marines, and I fear not the beak—
I've a muscular arm, and miraculous cheek;
And honest I'll not, or respectable, be
While I've rifle, revolver, and patent bowie.
Quick, quick, bring me drink! let the goblet be deep,
For intemperance makes of my vices a heap.
Down, down will I drag those who differ with me—
I'm ashore, I'm ashore, and a blackguard I'll be!

(Mutineers shout—disposition of characters as in Pizarro.
Atkins.
(C.)
My brutal messmates—partners in my shame,
My swindlings and my crimes! can Walker's words add flame
To drunken ruffians, tarry, tough and terse
Like you! Oh, no, I feel you can't be worse!

(Mutineers shout.
Fry.
(R.)
You flatter us! (with his hat on)


Atkins.
What! take off your hat—a—
(knocking it off his head.
Or you shall find I mean to make you flatter!
My name was Atkins on that slavish bark,
But here 'tis Walker—Colonel Walker, mark!
A patriot, pirate, fillibuster,
To bawl and brag, and bite, and bleed, and bluster—
Vive la Republique! I've deposed that thief.
(cheers—pointing to Captain Bailey.
We all are equal, and I'll be your chief—
Your captain, colonel— (Fry groans, Atkins knocks him down)
Is that your greeting?
Spoiling the harmony of our meeting.
Son of a sea-cook! lubber! shark! take that!
Your wrist I'll crack—I will, a-ris-to-crat!
(knocks Fry's arm down—Mutineers all pitch into Fry, who is a very mean, ragged looking little man, and call him “Aristocrat!”—Fry in revenge bonnets Captain Bailey, who is chained)
My maxims, messmates mine, the maxims air
Of the great Maximilian Robespierre!

Friday.
(at back)
Who's he?

Crusoe.
A sort of man who'd rob-his-pere!

Atkins.
Bring me my bride, and some more rum and water.

Music.—“Black eyed Susan.”—Two Mutineers bring on Bella, R.
Captain.
(embracing her)
My pet, my sweet—my daughter—oh, my daughter!

Bella.
Lor, pa, don't be a fool!

Captain.
(pathetically)
My child!

Bella.
(to Atkins)
Well, fellow?

Captain.
My love! (snivelling)


Bella.
Papa, don't cry!

Captain.
I won't, Bella!

Crusoe.
(at back on platform, looking over the bushes)
Hah!

Friday.
Eh?

Crusoe.
Humph!

Friday.
Oh!

Crusoe.
Do my eyes then fail me?
'Tis Bella!

Friday.
Who-la?

Crusoe.
My own Bella Bailey!
My seated heart, now at my ribs doth thump!
Is she not lovely?

Friday.
(smacking his lips)
Iss she's nice and plump!

Crusoe.
What youth! what form! what grace! and what an eye!

Friday.
Massa, she'd be delicious in a pie.

Atkins.
Young woman—hem, I love yer!

Bella.
Hence! for you—
You horrid brute, can't be a lovier true—
(Atkins offers to kiss her.
If you do that, I'll scream! I hate the sight Of you!

Atkins.
What odds? you'll be my bride to-night!
Can't talk to gals—I but perplexes 'em—
Their hands I axes not—no, I ann-exes them.
Crusoe motions to Friday, and they steal off, unperceived, R.
Unless to-night you give to me your hand,
I'll have your father's head—you understand?
We've found a Spanish priest upon the shore,
So one or other must be hand-hed o'er;
Or stiff and dead your papa breathes no more.

(Captain falls into arms of one of the Mutineers, who passes him on to another, till the last man lets him fall on the stage)
Captain.
My daughter, oh! my daughter, say—oh! why are
You heedless?—think upon your head-less sire!

Bella.
'Tis needless!

Captain.
Needless! Pins and needles tingle
My veins throughout, if that spinster keeps single.

Bella.
Father, would you for sake of paltry life
See me become that horrid monster's wife?

Captain.
I would, my child, I would! Tho' now you hate him,
You'll learn in time, my love, to tolerate him.
All married people do! Your own dear ma
Swore that she hated me.

Bella.
Papa! Bah! bah!
Only for one poor head, as ma oft told us.
Quite useless e'en when worn upon the shoulders.

(seizes Captain's head.
Captain.
Curb but your pride a bit, your feelings check,
You'll save my race of life by just a neck.

Bella.
He's such a villain!

Captain.
But he looks so nice.

Bella.
But I'm not villin, pa!

Captain.
(pointing to his head)
Not at the price?

Bella.
Yes, pa—for you who laid me on your lap,
And fed me, when a baby upon pap;
Who nurs'd me thro' the measles and the croup,
And bought, to ease my gums, a coral hoop,
I'd rave and slave to save thy head so hoary;
'Twill be a sacrifice in which I gl-ory.

(Atkins, who has been giving directions to Mutineers, advances up the stage, L.)
Atkins.
Now, then, mum, are you coming to the scratch?
I mean to marriage—is't to be a match?
(Bella is silent
Your answer?

Captain.
Oh, pray give her a chance, sir!

Atkins.
Your hand, ma'am!

Captain.
Yes, she means to give her hand, sir.

Atkins.
Say do you love me?

Captain.
Oh, sir, very much!
She doats on you! (to Bella)
My dear, behave as such.

Atkins.
Your answer, madam?

Captain.
She says—

Atkins.
(bonnetting him)
Let her be, sir!
Your answer! (violently)


Bella.
(frightened)
No—yes—just as you please, sir!

Atkins.
I beg a kiss— (violently)
I will not be denied!
My friends—permit me to present my bride!

(Mutineers shout,
SONG and CHORUS,—Air—“Alley Croaker.”
Atkins.
This captain bold—this lad o' wax,
Commander in these waters,
To crown his joy, the hand but lacks,
Of Bailey's beauteous darter.
We'll wed to-night, then all get tight,
And pass our time so gaily;
You known will be, as th' luckiest she,
Most fortunate Miss Bailey.
Oh. Miss Bailey! most fortunate Miss Bailey!
You known will be, as th' luckiest she—
Most fortunate Miss Bailey.

Chorus of Mutineers
Oh, Miss Bailey, most fortunate Miss Bailey!
She known will be—the lucky she—
As fortunate Miss Bailey.

(They dance and stamp to the tune.
Bella.
The ground swims round, pa, as I stands.

Captain.
My darling give o'er grieving;
Revenge, love, lies in your own hands,
First wed him, then deceive him.
Save your papa, my sweet Bel-la

Bella.
I bitter feel pale-ale-y.

Captain.
My daughter, oh! my daughter, ah!
Unfortunate Miss Bailey! (weeping)


Bella. and Captain.
Oh, Miss Bailey! unfortunate Miss Bailey!
My/Thy fate linking with that thief, me/thee
Unfortunate Miss Bailey,

(Chorus as before.
(Bella is taken off by one set of Mutineers, L. the Captain by another, R. 1 E.—During the last chorus, which is repeated, they meet, embrace, and are torn away by Atkins, who exits, R. 1 E. after knocking down two or three of his followers.—The Men get up, rub themselves, look dolefully at each other, and follow off)
Enter Robinson Crusoe, from the back, R.
Crusoe.
'Tis done, and 'twas well done, and quickly too.
The boat I stole, releas'd the faithful crew;
They soon can land. The mutiny subdued,
My Bella's pa must show his gratitude.
But first, beyond all doubt, must Robin prove
The depth, height, length, and breadth of Bella's love.
I'll save her! Very like 'twill much amaze her.
I'll shave myself, and from affliction raise her;
If she be true, oh rapture! But how blank is
All “If she be false—oh goats and monkeys!”
Friday enters, R. U. E. just on the last word.
Nothing personal, Friday. (apologising)


Friday.
Eh?

Crusoe.
I—the—
I spoke of monkeys!

Friday.
P'raps massa mean't me?

Crusoe.
Oh, no!

Friday.
Then speaking to yourself, aha! I see!

Crusoe.
Hast thou performed each task, both big and little,
I bade thee?

Friday.
Massa, every tittle!
Two boats crews wait. One man sware for a freak,
He knock Friday through the middle of next week.

Crusoe.
A poor weak joke! Go on!

Friday.
Massa, when I
Hoist the flag, they'll land and stand hard by.

Crusoe.
Where's the drum?

Friday.
(pointing off)
Come!

Crusoe.
The clothes?

Friday.
(pointing off, L.)
Close by!

Crusoe.
(recollecting)
Let's see!
Oh, third! the bird?

Friday.
(bringing Parrot on his finger)
Here!

Crusoe.
Put him up a tree!
(Friday puts bird on branch, R.
Where I have often been?

Friday.
Eh?

Crusoe.
When stranded!
Or cleaned out, at low water—when I landed.
(Friday gives Crusoe flask, he drinks with great gusto.
That's my good spirit! she comes! quick hide thee.

Looking off, R.
Friday.
(covering his face with his fingers)
Him hide him face!

Crusoe.
That's my delicate Friday.

DUET.—Air—“When the banjo play,” Montgomery
Crusoe.

DANCE.—Crusoe and Friday.
Friday.

Crusoe dances and exits, R.—Friday keeps on dancing— Friday's father enters, L. U E. with a white sheet under his arm, and stops him, points off, they retire—the dance music still continues piano. Enter Fry and Tom Robinson, L. 1 E.—Friday jumps on his father's back, then unfolds the sheet, so as to appear like a long white spectre with a black head—Friday plays the bones— the Mutineers see the ghost, and are dreadfully frightened—Friday dances, and plays the bones still to the same music, and frighten them off R. 1 E. The Stage to be a little darker during the ghost business. Music,— “By the sad sea waves.”
Enter Bella despondently, L. 1 E.
DUET.—Bella and Parrot (the bird singing an octave higher than Bella).—Air.—“Robinson Crusoe.”
Bella.
Was there e'er such a plight?
I must wed him to-night!
The pirate, the boxer, the bruiser!
While my heart throbs with woe,
Tho' 'tis years, years ago,
For my lover—

Parrot.
Poor Robinson Crusoe!

Bella.
(startled)
Do my ears then deceive me? they do so!
Or I thought I heard—

Parrot.
Robinson Crusoe!

Bella.
My senses refuse, O! my mind I shall lose, O!
Like my heart to—

Parrot.
Poor Robin Crusoe!

Bella.
(A la Ferdinand, in the Tempest.)
Where should this music be?
In the air, in the sea?
From the veins of the earth, or the ooze-eo!
Of the salt deep, or where?
I'm bewitched, I declare!
Or, I caught the words—

Parrot.
Poor Robin Crusoe!

Bella.
There again, oh! to doubt, I can't choose, O!
For I hear it, as sure as two two's, oh!
'Tis a burden I hear, from a bird in the air,
Who sings sweetly of—

Parrot.
Poor Robin Crusoe!

Bella.
This ditty doth remember my lost lover!
I feel a mortal dizziness all over!
If the design is, that I should go mad—
How strange! how odd! I feel no longer sad,
But saucy! Or should this be sorcery—
Sore, sore I fear it! The isle's enchanted,
And I'll enchanted be, while his name's chanted!
My head turns round, my heat goes throb, throbing—
The bird who chants his name, must be a robin!
Perhaps some one's done it for a lark—
Was't you, sir?—

Crusoe enters, R. U. E. dressed as a sort of nautical Claude Melnotte, a cloak over him—Bella sees him, screams and runs into the corner, R.
Crusoe.
(assuming the gruff sailor)
What, mum?

Bella.
Just now a singing, Robin Crusoe!

Crusoe.
No, though I knew—the party!

Bella.
What?

Crusoe.
Yes! He
Sailed round the world and back again with me!

Bella.
What does my Crusoe still exist? (enraptured)


Crusoe.
He do!

Bella.
Oh, joy! oh, rapture! oh, atchoo! atchoo!

(sneezes.
Crusoe.
(aside)
Her voice again! the old time comes o'er me!
In childhood when we caught cold mutuall-ee
We sneezed, were whipped, and swallowed senna tea.

Bella
Forgive this fond emotion!

Crusoe.
Oh, don't let it
Distress you ma'am! your feelings does you credit!

Bella.
Then you will bear to him, as Crusoe's friend—

Crusoe.
(holding out his hand)
Whatever trifle you may like to send;
But if you love him, why not have him?

Bella.
Don't!
Don't! don't! don't ask me!

Crusoe.
Well, mum, then I won't!

Bella.
Look on that poor old man!

(pointing R. 1 E.
Crusoe.
(looking)
Mum, I don't see
An old man there—

Bella.
Well, then, he ought to be!
But if I'm interrupted in this way,
I shall forget all that I had to say.
He stands upon the verge of an abyss—

Crusoe.
No, mum, he don't! (looking at rocks, &c.)


Bella.
(angry)
What I meant to say was this—
The ruffian Atkins swears to have his head
This eve—

Crusoe.
Oh! heave-a-head!

Bella.
I will, I said!
Unless I give my hand, to-night will see
Us lose the head of our fam-i-lie.

Crusoe.
I hear too, mum! (aside)
Night's past, with joy I choke!
The fellow's ta'en his ship, of the old bloke!
But if, Crusoe, were living?

Bella.
Oh then!

Crusoe.
Speak!

Bella.
Rather with him live on ten pounds a week,
In a nice neighbourhood, or in a square;
And drive out in the park to take the air,
Than poverty with Atkins anywhere!

Crusoe.
(affected)
How deep is woman's love! No tears!
I'll spout!
(throws off hat and cloak.
My Bella-donna—dunna bellow out!
Behold thy Crusoe!

Bella.
(screaming in corner, R.)
'Tisn't!

Crusoe.
Yes, it is!

Bella.
'Tisn't!

Crusoe.
It is! Oh, yiz—this phiz is his!

Bella.
Ha, ha, ha, ha! (laughing hysterically)


Crusoe.
There, leave off sobbin'!
My wife, life, love, dove, turtle, pigeon—

Bella.
(rushing into his arms)
Robin!

Enter all the Characters but Friday and his Father.
Crusoe.
Look up, look up, for I can't bear thy weight.

Atkins.
Hullo!

Crusoe.
Surprised?

Atkins.
Quick—seize them!

Bella.
Cruel fate!

(Crusoe is seized by Mutineers.
Captain.
My daughter, oh, my daughter!

(embracing her.
Bella.
Pa, don't bother!

Captain.
You are a naughty girl, miss!

Bella.
You're another!

Atkins.
Your name? (to Crusoe)


Crusoe
John!

Atkins.
What?

Crusoe.
No—Jones!

Atkins.
Jones! then 'tis clear
Thy name sounds so familiar to my ear—
We've met before—

Crusoe.
No!

Atkins.
Yes—does memory fail?

Crusoe.
We can't!

Atkins.
Why not?

Crusoe.
I've never been in jail!

Atkins.
Whence come you?

Crusoe.
From the gov'nor! (a la Tell)


Atkins.
What?

Crusoe.
I've said!

Atkins.
I thought this isle was un-in-hab-i-ted.

Crusoe.
Some few miles hence a fort—

Atkins.
A Fort—You lie!

Crusoe.
Which men who've fought fort-if-y.

Atkins.
Vot if I
Disbelieve you? What flag at their mast head?

Crusoe.
The British!

Atkins.
(alarmed)
British!

Mutineers.
(terribly frightened)
British!

Crusoe.
I have said!

Atkins.
Base spy, you lie—Shall die! To the boat, my bride;
I'll quit the isle whate'er betide next tide.
(Mutineers lash Crusoe and Captain together.
You too are tied. You a lie've pitched into me,
So I'll pitch you alive into the sea!

(Music—General confusion.—Atkins cries “Away with them!” Mutineers drag Crusoe and Captain towards the sea.—Bella tries to embrace the Prisoners, and is dragged away by Atkins—She shrieks “Robin—Pa!” Crusoe cries “Bella!” the Captain, “My daughter, oh, my daughter!” Suddenly a drum is heard to beat—Pause and picture—General consternation of the Mutineers—Fright of Atkins.
Friday.
(heard without R. U. E.)
First division to the shore!
Cut off retreat!
(Drum—Fresh alarm of Mutineers.
Cavalry form square! Prepare to receive artillery!
(Drum—More fear of Mutineers, who huddle together, L.
Right about left face! Infantry threes
About! Trot gallop! Char-r-ge!

Drum—Atkins falls on his knees to Captain.
Enter Friday, his Father and the Officers, and faithful part of the Crew, who disarm Mutineers, who kneel to them—The Captain seizes a stuffed stick, and whacks the Mutineers unmercifully, arrogating the whole victory to himself—Friday heads the relief, beating the drum.—Boats appear at back—ship in the distance.
Friday.
(kneeling to Crusoe)
The governor general!

(Sailors shout.
Crusoe.
To prove I'm not a gen'ral hasty, I
At once proclaim a gen'ral am-nes-ty—

Captain.
For all but Atkins. (hitting Atkins)


Crusoe.
On his head shall fall
A doom of horror! Listen, seamen, all—
We sentence him for his bad, mad endeavour,
To total abstinence from grog for ever!

(Atkins swoons in despair—the Crew in consternation at his awful fate—Captain kicks him upon his legs again.
Atkins.
Nay, take my life and all. You take my wife—
You stop the grog that doth sustain my life.
You snatch the pipe of life from this poor dog's head,
By taking from him gal-and-pipe and hogshead.

Captain.
My gallant gov'nor take her—there you are!
Bless you, my children, bless you! (joining hands)


Bella.
Thank you, pa.

Atkins.
Robb'd of my crew, and mate—each way I lose O—
They nam'd you well who call'd you Robbing Crews O!

Crusoe.
For England ho! Captain! (to Captain)


Captain.
My son!

(Friday gives Parrot to Crusoe.
Crusoe.
(to Bella)
My love!

Bella.
My life!

Crusoe.
(to Parrot)
Polly!

Parrot,
Robin!

Crusoe.
(to him)
Friday!

Friday.
The Gov.!
Papa! (embracing his father)


Father.
Doo-dah!

Sailors.
Gov'nar!

Crusoe.
(pointing to Audience)
No—here you see
Our Gov'nors. But join hands ere we put to sea,
And all hands here will in a transport be.

FINALE.—Air—“Robinson Crusoe.”
Crusoe.
Our revels are o'er,
We shall soon quit the shore.

Captain.
Say not pshaw to our efforts t' amuse O,
But a hand prithee lend
To our childhood's old friend—

Bella.
Dear goat-skinn'd old Robinson Crusoe!

Crusoe.
Your smiles and applause don't refuse O!

Atkins.
If you're pleased why just handsomely do so.

(indicating applause.
Friday.
On shell-fish, on the shelf,
He's lived long by himself;
But this turtle his life will renew so.

(pointing to Bella.
Chorus.
Your smiles and applause don't refuse O!
If your pleased, why just handsomely do so;
And the pleasure enhance of the King of Romance,
Dear shipwreck'd old Robinson Crusoe.

HORNPIPE.—Air,—“Jack Robinson.”
(Crusoe and Bella begin—then the Captain and Atkins, who become reconciled—then the Mutineers in couples—lastly Friday and his Father—then general hornpipe—Friday and his Father always partners.