 | Uncle Tom's Cabin |  |
SCENE III
Front Chamber. Enter Topsy.
Dar's somethin' de matter wid me—I isn't a bit like myself. I
haven't done anything wrong since poor Miss Eva went up in de skies and left
us. When I's gwine to do anything wicked, I tinks of her, and somehow I can't
do it. I's getting to be good, dat's a fact. I 'spects when I's dead I shall be turned
into a little brack angel.
(Enter Ophelia.)
[Description: 916EAF. Page 113.]
Topsy, I've been looking for you; I've got something very par-
ticular to say to you.
TOPSY:
Does you want me to say the catechism?
OPHELIA:
No, not now.
TOPSY:
(Aside.)
Golly! dat's one comfort.
OPHELIA:
Now, Topsy, I want you to try and understand what I am going
to say to you.
TOPSY:
Yes, missis, I'll open my ears drefful wide.
OPHELIA:
Mr. St. Clare has given you to me, Topsy.
TOPSY:
Den I b'longs to you, don't I? Golly! I thought I always belong
to you.
OPHELIA:
Not till to-day have I received any authority to call you my
property.
TOPSY:
I's your property, am I? Well, if you say so, I 'spects I am.
OPHELIA:
Topsy, I can give you your liberty.
TOPSY:
My liberty?
OPHELIA:
Yes, Topsy.
TOPSY:
Has you got 'um with you?
OPHELIA:
I have, Topsy.
TOPSY:
Is it clothes or wittles?
OPHELIA:
How shiftless! Don't you know what your liberty is, Topsy?
TOPSY:
How should I know when I never seed 'um?
OPHELIA:
Topsy, I am going to leave this place; I am going many miles
away—to my own home in Vermont.
TOPSY:
Den what's to become of dis chile?
OPHELIA:
If you wish to go, I will take you with me.
TOPSY:
Miss Feely, I doesn't want to leave you no how, I loves you I does.
OPHELIA:
Then you shall share my home for the rest of your days. Come,
Topsy.
TOPSY:
Stop, Miss Feely; does dey hab any oberseers in Varmount?
OPHELIA:
No, Topsy.
TOPSY:
Nor cotton plantations, nor sugar factories, nor darkies, nor
whipping nor nothing?
OPHELIA:
No, Topsy.
TOPSY:
By Golly! de quicker you is gwine de better den.
(Enter Tom, hastily.)
Oh, Miss Feely! Miss Feely!
OPHELIA:
Gracious me, Tom! what's the matter?
TOM:
Oh, Mas'r St. Clare! Mas'r St. Clare!
OPHELIA:
Well, Tom, well?
TOM:
They've just brought him home and I do believe he's killed?
OPHELIA:
Killed?
TOPSY:
Oh dear! what's to become of de poor darkies now?
TOM:
He's dreadful weak. It's just as much as he can do to speak. He
wanted me to call you.
OPHELIA:
My poor cousin! Who would have thought of it? Don't say a
word to his wife, Tom; the danger may not be so great as you think; it would
[Description: 916EAF. Page 114.]
(Exeunt.)
| Uncle Tom's Cabin | |