University of Virginia Library

Scene Fourth.

—Summit of a mountain—Wolf, Wurm, and other Attendants of Richcraft enter with Finetta prisoner.
Wolf.
Of Gander's kingdom we're safe o'er the border,
And there's the pit to which she'll have an order.

Fin.
Are ye banditti? If so, name my ransom,
My father is a king, he'll come down handsome.

Wolf.
Will he? If that's your hope it is but small,
'Twould'nt be like his Majesty at all.

Fin.
Answer my question, man of features grim!

Wolf.
Here comes his Highness, pop it, ma'am, to him.

Fin.
His Highness!—this low mudlark?
Enter Prince Richcraft.
Ah, Prince Richcraft!
Alive, and out of limbo! This is witchcraft!

Rich.
No, traitress! Deep the craft through which I fell,
But here is trap for trap, and sell for cell.

Fin.
No traitress I, but double traitor thou,
Who to two sisters equal love could vow.

Rich.
For equal love read henceforth equal hate;
For know I found out in the “Book of Fate,”
And sticking sundry pins in fortune's wheel,
Thy father's kingdom fallen “en quenouille”
Would with my father's to some other pass
By one of those three distaffs made of glass;
If indiscretion caused them not to snap.
Two are in two—

Fin.
Too sad is our mishap.
But yet there is a third thou canst not harm
While I am wide awake.

Rich.
Despair thy charm!
And let old Mother Goose who manufactured
The distaff, tell thee though it mayn't be fractured,
Richcraft will still be of the crown a winner,
By breaking all to bits the artful spinner.

Fin.
Upon the wheel?

Rich.
No, in a novel way.
(Wurm beckons on Men with barrel, the inside of which is furnished with steel spikes, hooks, &c.)
Invention is the order of the day,
And here is my new organ of destruction,
To which you shall have speedy introduction.

Fin.
A barrel organ!

Rich.
Yes, to grind your bones
At every turn it takes over those stones.
(Men take barrel up the mountain)
You needn't be afraid of falling out,
The spikes in it will hold you fast no doubt.

Fin.
What, chuck me down the mountain?

Rich.
Yes, my chuck.
Not long ago you made me run-a-muck,
Now I'll see how you like it, my fair lady!

Fin.
I'll not be cast down.

Rich.
You look so already.

Fin.
Will no just lightning singe this dirty dog's head?
Mercy!

Rich.
No, you shall go the entire hogshead!
(Music—He drags her up the mountain)
First let me see though, there are spikes enough in it,
Before this dainty bit of goods we stuff in it.

Music—Richcraft mounts on a piece of rock and looks into the barrel, Finetta tipping him over—He falls into it, and the barrel rolls down the hill and disappears, amidst the cries of the Attendants, who rush after it, leaving Finetta to run out unperceived.
Wurm.
(on rock piece)
Stop! Stop him! Ha! Upon a rocky shelf
He has been good enough to stop himself!
If it had only rolled another yard with him,
Over those stones it had gone very hard with him.

Music—Re-enter Wolf and the rest, bearing and surrounding Richcraft, insensible.
Wolf.
Gently, boys, gently! Here's a sad disaster,
In a rude spot where there is no court plaster!
Of opodeldoc, not a drop to use!
No spermaceti for an inward bruise!

Wurm.
If you are dead, sir, speak, and tell us so!

Rich.
(slowly reviving in arms of Attendants)
I think that I may venture to say, no.
(Attendants set him down)
Of stout bull's hide my under jerkin, tough,
Kept those vile spikes from working my own buff.
But oh, my back! (they rub him)
Upon the other side!
Where is the minx? I'll have her sliced and fried!
The very thought a thrilling joy diffuses,
Like Friar's balsam, over all my bruises!

Wurm.
Sir, without warning she has dared to quit again.

Rich.
Finetta 'scaped! Ah me! then comes my fit again;
And all my pains return—because I've lost 'em!
Who let her 'scape? their dog's ears it shall cost 'em!

Wolf.
We couldn't run two ways at once.

Rich.
That's true.
What's to be done? for something I must do,
To bar that fatal prophecy's fulfilment.

Wurm.
Administer some “leperous distilment!”
Some “juice of cursed hebanon in a vial!”

Wolf.
Or some new pill, that “only asks one trial!”

Rich.
Ha! I remember a low sort of shop,
Where they sold peppermint and lollipop,
And lozenges in boxes by the score,
With this inscription o'er them “cough no more.”
I gazed upon the things, red—green—and blue,
And others of a still more sickly hue;
And thought if one for poison had a whim,
There lived a seedy chap would sell it him;
And prove the truth that brief inscription bore,
For in his coffin he would “cough no more!”
Ha, ha! I feel unnaturally merry!

Wurm.
(to Wolf)
I think his head's a little—

Wolf.
(to Wurm)
I think—very.

Rich.
My brain is overtaxed! Oh, yes, I feel
Fate has surcharged me, and I must appeal:
They have assessed my wits in schedule D,
As if wit ever was a property!
Now they're distraining on them, I'm done brown.
An undone brother sits upon my crown,
And takes away the use on't! And my scept-
Re—changed to the distaff which Finetta kept,
Is lost and gone! Hah! fiends to Pluto's region
Have come to drag me! Though you were a legion,
Aye, e'en the Foreign Legion, thus I'd fall
Among you, and—and—over-reach you all!

Music—The Retainers rush off alarmed—business of “Sir Giles Overreach”—Richcraft sinks into the arms of Wolf and Wurm, and they bear him off—Scene closes.