University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

—Inside of the gates of the Castle of Otranto.
[A great knocking is heard without.
Enter Odonto, R.
Odo.
What means that knocking at the outer gate?
You can't come in—we go to bed at eight.
For master's grog I've taken up the gin:
I tell you once again you can't come in.

Enter Vincenza pushing Odonto aside.
SONG—Vincenza.

Vin.
Audacious slave, my entry thus opposing;
I'll not allow such very early closing.

Enter Manfred and Hippolita, R.
Man.
What's this disturbance?

Hip.
I'm half dead with fright:
For making calls 'tis not the time of night.

Vin.
(Without.)
We are three knights, and each will bring his train,
If you compel us, Count, to call again.

Hip.
Further resistance would on madness border—
Admit each knight.

Man.
Yes, if he has an order.
[The doors are thrown open, the six knights enter, who carry a gigantic sword. Vincenza wears a tremendous plume of black and scarlet feathers.
Ha! ha! I'm glad to see you; but I fear
We can't accommodate that weapon here.

Hip.
That monster sword is brought here, I presume,
To claim acquaintance with the monster plume;
And see (looks off)
as if to warrant my suspicion,
The feathers seem to nod in recognition.

Man.
(Looks off)
You're right, and in the circumstance I read,
I' faith, an odd coincidence, indeed.
What is your business here, sir knight?

Vin.
We come
To know if Isabella is at home.
The lady, we in fact, are here to claim,
In her papa's, the Duke Vincenza's name.

Man.
Yes, yes; that's very well indeed—no doubt,
But you can't see her, gentlemen; she's out.

Hip.
Besides, sir knight, excuse my freedom, pray,
But there are certain small accounts to pay,
Of board and lodging, not a word to speak,
There's twelve years' washing, eighteen pence a-week.

Man.
Then there's a rule that's generally approved,
A quarter's notice when a pupil's moved;
Besides, its very well for you to talk,
But we've not had the usual spoon and fork.

Hip.
And pray excuse these mercantile avowals,
We've not received the six accustomed towels.

Vin.
For all these matters I avoid a claim,
By asking for her in her father's name.
(Aside)
How lucky, that in this disguise I sought her,
For there's a heavy lien on my daughter.
(Aloud)
You'll not object to giving up the maid,
All proper charges will of course be paid:
Her father to discharge all debts is willing,
When it so happens he has got a shilling.
But lately he's so very short, that truly
Even his cheques have not been honoured truly;
And for his bills, his case I'm sure you'll pity,
Like kites they're flying all about the City.

Man.
If that's the case, his daughter you will see
Should be surrendered to the assignee;
Besides I've heard it generally said
That the old gentleman has long been dead;
If so, the girl—'tis thus the law inclines—
Goes to the ex'ors, adm'ors, or assigns.

Vin.
I'm not a lawyer to discuss a right,
Argue I can't, but I know how to fight.

Hip.
Fight with my husband! that can never be,
Unless you are prepared to fight with me:
Shall I behold him mill'd before mine eyes?
Your's are a coward's threats—look at his size.

Man.
Well, well; we may arrange this small affair;
Conrad, my son, is dead—perhaps you're aware,
He was, you know, the lady to have wed:
(Aside to Vincenza.)
What d'ye say, sir: give her to me instead?

Vin.
Give her to you—why that's a good idea,
That sentiment your wife I think should hear.
Madam, the Count has something to propose.

Man.
You need not be officious, sir—she knows.

Hip.
His wishes are commands to me, of course,
I'm the grey mare—but he's the better horse.
I hope my gracious lord will not upbraid me.

Man.
No, no, my dear. (aside.)
Jupiter gammon aid me!
(aloud.)
You see, sir knight, Hippolita, my wife,
Has been my friend—my prop—my stay, through life.

Hip.
And will be to the last.

Man.
Yes!—that's embarrassing;
I'm sure your husband you'll not think of harrassing.

Hip.
Embarrass—harrass!—no! your constant wife,
Would rather, at a word, lay down her life.

Man.
Yes, yes,—it's very kind of you to say it:
Lay down your life, indeed!—where can you lay it?

Vin.
This talk seems confidential—only say,
Shall I step out?—I must be in the way.

Man.
No—you're not in the way.

Hip.
Ah, me!—I guess
The meaning of that most distressing stress;
Tell me the worst!—I'm not afraid to know—
Speak but the fatal word—am I de trop?

Man.
This sad avowal cuts me to the core,
I love you much—but love my duty more.
[Hippolita sobs.
Excuse these tears, sir knight, 'tis hard to snub her,
To see her wailing causes me to blubber!
(to Vin.)
Sir knight, will you be kind enough to tell her,
That I propose to marry Isabella!
The truth I meant myself to have imparted—
I never thought I was so tender-hearted.

Vin.
(aside.)
I don't much like the business—but no matter,
I'll tell her flat—I'm not disposed to flatter!
Madam, I've by your husband been deputed
To say, he thinks you're not exactly suited—
To say the truth, I'm very much afraid he
Makes up his mind to wed another lady.

Hip.
This is too much—thou most audacious knight!
To talk to me—where did'st thou get the right?
Cruelty from my husband I must bear—
[Twitching his wig.
'Tis well for thee this isn't thine own hair!
Were I a man, I'd teach thee how to vex
One of the gentlest of the gentle sex,
But female as I am, what can avail—
A petticoat against a coat of male!

Vin.
Well! this is the last time, upon my life,
I'll ever interfere 'twixt man and wife.

Man.
But hark ye! ma mere gris, preserve your state—
My dignified behaviour imitate!
(to Vin.)
And you, old cock, though of the Polish breed,
You've put my monkey up—you have indeed!
So quit the building—here no more be seen.

Vin.
To the cave I go.

Man.
Peccavi 'tis you mean.
Mark me, my friend—this is no common stuff!

[Pointing to himself.
Vin.
To mark you, I've a mind!

Man.
That's quantum suf!

Vin.
Peace, blustering railer!

Man.
Cease you, too, to bore us!
List to a voice that's like a double chorus.

DUET.
(Air.—Bay of Biscay, O!)
Man.
Loud roll my words of thunder,
The drum split of your ear,
Your corpse in two I'll sunder,
And tap you for your bier.

Vin.
Your threats are all my eye,
For you are fighting shy!

Man.
My sword I'll lay,
On you all day,
Till you cry Peccavi, O!

Vin.
Your cocoa nut I'll crack, sir,
and make you quick turn tail;
Like schoolboy, I'll you whack, sir,
With fright you'd kick the pail.

Man.
(in violent rage, flourishing his sword daringly.)
Assail! assail! assail!

Vin.
You frog that bull would be,
You shall not bully me.

Man.
(laughing derisively.)
A bob or shilling I'll lay!
Ere ends this day,
You will cry peccavi, O!

[Chorus and Vincenza repeat burthen, and all exeunt.