 | Uncle Tom's Cabin |  |
SCENE I
A Handsome Parlor. Marie discovered reclining on a sofa.
(Looking at a note.)
What can possibly detain St. Clare? According to
this note he should have been here a fortnight ago. (Noise of carriage without.)
I
do believe he has come at last.
(Eva runs in.)
Mamma! (Throws her arms around Marie's neck, and kisses her.)
MARIE:
That will do—take care, child—don't you make my head ache! (Kisses
her languidly.)
(Enter St. Clare, Ophelia, and Tom, nicely dressed.)
Well, my dear Marie, here we are at last. The wanderers have
arrived, you see. Allow me to present my cousin, Miss Ophelia, who is about to
undertake the office of our housekeeper.
MARIE:
(Rising to a sitting posture.)
I am delighted to see you. How do you
like the appearance of our city?
EVA:
(Running to Ophelia.)
Oh! is it not beautiful? My own darling home!—is
it not beautiful?
OPHELIA:
Yes, it is a pretty place, though it looks rather old and heathenish
to me.
ST. CLARE:
Tom, my boy, this seems to suit you?
TOM:
Yes, mas'r, it looks about the right thing.
ST. CLARE:
See here, Marie, I've brought you a coachman, at last, to
order. I tell you, he is a regular hearse for blackness and sobriety, and will drive
you like a funeral, if you wish. Open your eyes, now, and look at him. Now,
don't say I never think about you when I'm gone.
MARIE:
I know he'll get drunk.
ST. CLARE:
Oh! no he won't. He's warranted a pious and sober article.
MARIE:
Well, I hope he may turn out well; it's more than I expect, though.
ST. CLARE:
Have you no curiosity to learn how and where I picked up
[Description: 916EAF. Page 088.]
EVA:
Uncle Tom papa; that's his name.
ST CLARE:
Right, my little sunbeam!
TOM:
Please, mas'r, that ain't no 'casion to say nothing bout me.
ST. CLARE:
You are too modest, my modern Hannibal. Do you know,
Marie, that our little Eva took a fancy to Uncle Tom—whom we met on board
the steamboat—and persuaded me to buy him.
MARIE:
Ah! she is so odd.
ST. CLARE:
As we approached the landing, a sudden rush of the passengers
precipitated Eva into the water—
MARIE:
Gracious heavens!
ST. CLARE:
A man leaped into the river, and, as she rose to the surface of
the water, grasped her in his arms, and held her up until she could be drawn on
the boat again. Who was that man, Eva?
EVA:
Uncle, Tom! (Runs to him. He lifts her in his arms. She kisses him.)
TOM:
The dear soul!
OPHELIA:
(Astonished.)
How shiftless!
ST CLARE:
(Overhearing her.)
What's the matter now, pray?
OPHELIA:
Well, I want to be kind to everybody, and I wouldn't have
anything hurt, but as to kissing—
ST. CLARE:
Niggers! that you're not up to, hey?
OPHELIA:
Yes, that's it—how can she?
ST. CLARE:
Oh! bless you, it's nothing when you are used to it!
OPHELIA:
I could never be so shiftless!
EVA:
Come with me, Uncle Tom, and I will show you about the house.
(Crosses with Tom.)
TOM:
Can I go mas'r?
ST. CLARE:
Yes, Tom; she is your little mistress—your only duty will be to
attend to her! (Tom bows and exits.)
MARIE:
Eva, my dear!
EVA:
Well, mamma?
MARIE:
Do not exert yourself too much!
EVA:
No, mamma! (Runs out.)
OPHELIA:
(Lifting up her hands.)
How shiftless!
(St. Clare sits next to Marie on sofa. Ophelia next to St. Clare.)
Well, what do you think of Uncle Tom, Marie?
MARIE:
He is a perfect behemoth!
ST. CLARE:
Come, now, Marie, be gracious, and say something pretty to a fellow!
MARIE:
You've been gone a fortnight beyond the time!
ST. CLARE:
Well, you know I wrote you the reason.
MARIE:
Such a short, cold letter!
ST. CLARE:
Dear me! the mail was just going, and it had to be that or
nothing.
MARIE:
That's just the way; always something to make your journeys long
and letters short!
ST. CLARE:
Look at this. (Takes an elegant velvet case from his pocket.)
Here's
a present I got for you in New York—a Daguerreotype of Eva and myself.
[Description: 916EAF. Page 089.]
(Looks at it with a dissatisfied air.)
What made you sit in such an awk-
ward position?
ST. CLARE:
Well, the position may be a matter of opinion, but what do you
think of the likeness?
MARIE:
(Closing the case snappishly.)
If you don't think anything of my opi-
nion in one case, I suppose you wouldn't in another.
OPHELIA:
(Senteniously, aside.)
How shiftless!
ST. CLARE:
Hang the woman! Come, Marie, what do you think of the
likeness? Don't be nonsensical now.
MARIE:
It's very inconsiderate of you, St. Calre, to insist on my talking and
looking at things. You know I've been lying all day with the sick headache, and
there's been such a tumult made ever since you came. I'm half dead!
OPHELIA:
You're subject to the sick headache, ma'am?
MARIE:
Yes, I'm a perfect martyr to it!
OPHELIA:
Juniper-berry tea is good for sick head-ache; at least, Molly,
Deacon Abraham Perry's wife, used to say so; and she was a great nurse.
ST. CLARE:
I'll have the first juniper-berries that get ripe in our garden by
the lake brought in for that especial purpose. Come, cousin, let us take a stroll in
the garden. Will you join us, Marie?
MARIE:
I wonder how you can ask such a question, when you know how
fragile I am. I shall retire to my chamber, and repose till dinner time. (Exit.)
OPHELIA:
(Looking after her.)
How shiftless!
ST. CLARE:
Come, cousin! (As he goes out.)
Look out for the babies! If I step
upon anybody, let them mention it.
OPHELIA:
Babies under foot! How shiftless! (Exeunt.)
| Uncle Tom's Cabin | |