Act I

Scene 1

Drawing room in 3. Trenchard Manor, C. D., backed by interior, discovering table with luncheon spread. Large French window, R. 3 E., through which a fine English park is seen. Open archway, L. 3 E. Set balcony behind. Table, R., books and papers on it. Work basket containing wools and embroidery frame. A fashionable armchair and sofa, L. 2 E., small table near C. D. Stage handsomely set, costly furniture, carpet down, chairs, etc.

Mr. Buddicombe discovered on sofa reading newspaper. Skillet and Sharpe busily arranging furniture as curtain rises.
Sharpe I don’t know how you may feel as a visitor, Mr. Buddicombe, but I think this is a most uncomfortable family.
Mr. Buddicombe Very uncomfortable. I have no curtain to my bed.
Skillet And no wine at the second table.
Sharpe And meaner servants I never seed.
Mr. Buddicombe I’m afraid Sir Edward is in a queer strait.
Skillet Yes, for only this morning, Mr. Binny, Mrs. Skillet says he⁠—
Enter Mr. Binny, L. 3 E.
Mr. Binny Mind your hown business instead hof your betters. I’m disgusted with you lower servants. When the wine merchant presents his bills, you men, hear me, say he’s been pressing for the last six months, do you?
Skillet Nor I, that the last year’s milliner’s bills have not been paid.
Sharpe Nor I, that Miss Florence has not had no new dresses from London all winter.
Mr. Buddicombe And I can solemnly swear that his lordship’s hair has been faithfully bound in this bosom.
Mr. Binny That’ll do, that’ll do; but to remember to check hidle curiosity is the first duty of men hin livery. Ha, ’ere hare the letters.
Enter John Wickens, L. 3 E., with green baize bag. Mr. Binny takes bag, takes out letters and reads addresses.
Mr. Binny Hah! bill, of course, Miss Augusta, Mrs. Mountchessington, Lord Dundreary, Captain De Boots, Miss Georgina Mountchessington, Lieutenant Vernon, ah! that’s from the admiralty. What’s this? Miss Florence Trenchard, via Brattleboro’, Vermont.
Mr. Buddicombe Where’s that, Mr. Binny.
John Wickens Why that be hin the United States of North Hamerica, and a main good place for poor folks.
Mr. Binny John Wickens, you forget yourself.
John Wickens Beg pardon, Mr. Binny.
Mr. Binny John Wickens, leave the room.
John Wickens But I know where Vermont be though.
Mr. Binny John Wickens, get hout. Exit John Wickens, L. 3 E.
Mr. Buddicombe Dreadful low fellow, that.
Mr. Binny Halways himpudent.
Mr. Buddicombe Looking at letter in Mr. Binny’s hand. Why, that is Sir Edward’s hand, Mr. Binny, he must have been sporting.
Mr. Binny Yes, shooting the wild helephants and buffalos what abound there.
Mr. Buddicombe The nasty beasts. Looking off, R. 2 E. Hello, there comes Miss Florence tearing across the lane like a three year old colt.
Sharp and Skillet Oh, Gemini. Run off, R. 2 E. Mr. Buddicombe runs off, L. 2 E.
Enter Florence Trenchard, R. 2 E.
Florence Trenchard As if after running. Oh! I’m fairly out of breath. Good morning, Mr. Binny, the letter bag I saw coming, Wickens coming with it. I thought I could catch him before I reached the house. Sits R. So off I started, I forgot the pond, it was in or over. I got over, but my hat got in. I wish you’d fish it out for me, you won’t find the pond very deep.
Mr. Binny Me fish for an ’at? Does she take me for an hangler?
Florence Trenchard Give me the letters. Takes them. Ah, blessed budget that descends upon Trenchard Manor, like rain on a duck pond. Tell papa and all, that the letters have come, you will find them on the terrace.
Mr. Binny Yes, Miss. Going, L. 3 E.
Florence Trenchard And then go fish out my hat out of the pond, it’s not very deep.
Mr. Binny Aside. Me fish for ’ats? I wonder if she takes me for an hangler? Exit disgusted, R. 3 E.
Florence Trenchard Reading directions. Lieutenant Vernon. This is a large letter with a large white envelope, red seal. In her Majesty’s service. Admiralty, R. N. Ah, that’s an answer to Harry’s application for a ship. Papa promised to use his influence for him. I hope he has succeeded, but then he will have to leave us, and who knows if he ever comes back. What a foolish girl I am, when I know that his rise in the service will depend upon it. I do hope he’ll get it, and, if he must leave us, I’ll bid him goodbye as a lass who loves a sailor should.
Enter Sir Edward Trenchard, Mrs. Mountchessington., Augusta, Capt. De Boots, Harry Vernon, L. 3 E.
Florence Trenchard Papa, dear, here are letters for you, one for you, Mrs. Mountchessington, one for you, Capt. De Boots, and one for you, Harry. Hiding letter behind her.
Harry Vernon Ah, one for me, Florence?
Florence Trenchard Now what will you give me for one?
Harry Vernon Ah, then you have one?
Florence Trenchard Yes, there, Harry. Gives it.
Harry Vernon Ah, for a ship. Opens and reads.
Florence Trenchard Ah! Mon ami, you are to leave us. Good news, or bad?
Harry Vernon No ship yet, this promises another year of landlubbery. Goes up.
Florence Trenchard I’m so sorry. Aside. I’m so glad he’s not going away. But where’s Dundreary. Has anybody seen Dundreary?
Enter Lord Dundreary.
Lord Dundreary Good morning, Miss Florence.
Florence Trenchard Comes down, L. Good morning, my Lord Dundreary. Who do you think has been here? What does the postman bring?
Lord Dundreary Well, sometimes he brings a bag with a lock on it, sometimes newspapers, and sometimes letters, I suppothe.
Florence Trenchard There. Gives letter. Lord Dundreary opens letter and Florence Trenchard goes up R. Lord Dundreary knocks knees against chair, turns round knocks shins, and at last is seated extreme R.
Lord Dundreary Thank you. Reads letter.
Capt. De Boots Reading paper. By Jove, old Soloman has made a crop of it.
Lord Dundreary A⁠—what of it?
Capt. De Boots I beg pardon, an event I am deeply interested in, that’s all. I beg pardon.
Augusta Ah! Florence, dear, there’s a letter of yours got among mine. Gives it.
Florence Trenchard Why papa, it’s from dear brother Ned.
Sir Edward Trenchard From my boy! Where is he? How is he? Read it.
Florence Trenchard He writes from Brattleboro’ Vt. Reading written letter. “Quite well, just come in from a shooting excursion, with a party of Crows, splendid fellows, six feet high.”
Lord Dundreary Birds six feet high, what tremendous animals they must be.
Florence Trenchard Oh, I see what my brother means; a tribe of indians called Crows, not birds.
Lord Dundreary Oh, I thought you meant those creatures with wigs on them.
Florence Trenchard Wigs!
Lord Dundreary I mean those things that move, breathe and walk, they look like animals with those things. Moving his arms like wings.
Florence Trenchard Wings.
Lord Dundreary Birds with wings, that’s the idea.
Florence Trenchard Reading written letter. “By the by, I have lately come quite haphazard upon the other branch of our family, which emigrated to America at the Restoration. They are now thriving in this State, and discovering our relationship, they received me most hospitably. I have cleared up the mysterious death of old Mark Trenchard.”
Sir Edward Trenchard Of my uncle!
Florence Trenchard Reading written letter. “It appears that when he quarreled with his daughter on her marriage with poor Meredith, he came here in search of this stray shoot of the family tree, found them and died in their house, leaving Asa Trenchard, one of the sons, heir to his personal property in England, which ought to belong to poor Mary Meredith. Asa Trenchard is about to sail for the old country, to take possession. I gave him directions to find you out, and he should arrive almost as soon as this letter. Receive him kindly for the sake of the kindness he has shown to me, and let him see some of our shooting. Your affectionate brother, Ned.”
Sir Edward Trenchard An American branch of the family.
Mrs. Mountchessington Oh, how interesting!
Augusta Enthusiastically. How delightfully romantic! I can imagine the wild young hunter. An Apollo of the prairie.
Florence Trenchard An Apollo of the prairie; yes, with a strong nasal twang, and a decided taste for tobacco and cobblers.
Sir Edward Trenchard Florence, you forget that he is a Trenchard, and no true Trenchard would have a liking for cobblers or low people of that kind.
Florence Trenchard I hate him, whatever he is, coming here to rob poor cousin Mary of her grandmother’s guineas.
Sir Edward Trenchard Florence, how often must I request you not to speak of Mary Meredith as your cousin?
Florence Trenchard Why, she is my cousin, is she not? Besides she presides over her milk pail like a duchess playing dairymaid. Sir Edward Trenchard goes up. Ah! Papa won’t hear me speak of my poor cousin, and then I’m so fond of syllabubs. Dundreary, do you know what syllabubs are?
Lord Dundreary Oh, yeth, I know what syllabubs is⁠—yeth⁠—yeth.
Florence Trenchard Why, I don’t believe you do know what they are.
Lord Dundreary Not know what syllabubs are? That’s a good idea. Why they are⁠—syllabubs are⁠—they are only babies, idiotic children; that’s a good idea, that’s good. Bumps head against Florence Trenchard.
Florence Trenchard No, it’s not a bit like the idea. What you mean are called cherubims.
Lord Dundreary What, those things that look like oranges, with wings on them?
Florence Trenchard Not a bit like it. Well, after luncheon you must go with me and I’ll introduce you to my cousin Mary and syllabubs.
Lord Dundreary I never saw Mr. Syllabubs, I am sure.
Florence Trenchard Well, now, don’t forget.
Lord Dundreary I never can forget⁠—when I can recollect.
Florence Trenchard Then recollect that you have an appointment with me after luncheon.
Lord Dundreary Yeth, yeth.
Florence Trenchard Well, what have you after luncheon?
Lord Dundreary Well, sometimes I have a glass of brandy with an egg in it, sometimes a run ’round the duck-pond, sometimes a game of checkers⁠—that’s for exercise, and perhaps a game of billiards.
Florence Trenchard No, no; you have with me after luncheon, an ap⁠—an ap⁠—
Lord Dundreary An ap⁠—an ap⁠—
Florence Trenchard An ap⁠—an appoint⁠—appointment.
Lord Dundreary An ointment, that’s the idea. Knocks against Capt. De Boots as they go upstage.
Mrs. Mountchessington Aside. That artful girl has designs upon Lord Dundreary. Augusta, dear, go and see how your poor, dear sister is this morning.
Augusta Yes, mamma. Exit, L. 1 E.
Mrs. Mountchessington She is a great sufferer, my dear.
Lord Dundreary Yeth, but a lonely one.
Florence Trenchard What sort of a night had she?
Mrs. Mountchessington Oh, a very refreshing one, thanks to the draught you were kind enough to prescribe for her, Lord Dundreary.
Florence Trenchard What! Has Lord Dundreary been prescribing for Georgina?
Lord Dundreary Yeth. You see I gave her a draught that cured the effect of the draught, and that draught was a draft that didn’t pay the doctor’s bill. Didn’t that draught⁠—
Florence Trenchard Good gracious! what a number of draughts. You have almost a game of draughts.
Lord Dundreary Ha! ha! ha!
Florence Trenchard What’s the matter?
Lord Dundreary That wath a joke, that wath.
Florence Trenchard Where’s the joke? Lord Dundreary screams and turns to Mrs. Mountchessington.
Mrs. Mountchessington No.
Lord Dundreary She don’t see it. Don’t you see⁠—a game of drafts⁠—pieces of wound wood on square pieces of leather. That’s the idea. Now, I want to put your brains to the test. I want to ask you a whime.
Florence Trenchard A whime, what’s that?
Lord Dundreary A whime is a widdle, you know.
Florence Trenchard A widdle!
Lord Dundreary Yeth; one of those things, like⁠—why is so-and-so or somebody like somebody else.
Florence Trenchard Oh, I see, you mean a conundrum.
Lord Dundreary Yeth, a drum, that’s the idea. What is it gives a cold in the head, cures a cold, pays the doctor’s bill and makes the home-guard look for substitutes? Florence Trenchard repeats it. Yeth, do you give it up?
Florence Trenchard Yes.
Lord Dundreary Well, I’ll tell you⁠—a draught. Now I’ve got a better one that that: When is a dog’s tail not a dog’s tail? Florence Trenchard repeats. During this Florence Trenchard, Mrs. Mountchessington and Lord Dundreary are downstage.
Florence Trenchard Yes, and willingly.
Lord Dundreary When it’s a cart. They look at him enquiringly.
Florence Trenchard Why, what in earth has a dog’s tail to do with a cart?
Lord Dundreary When it moves about, you know. A horse makes a cart move, so does a dog make his tail move.
Florence Trenchard Oh, I see what you mean⁠—when it’s a wagon. Wags the letter in her hand.
Lord Dundreary Well, a wagon and a cart are the same thing, ain’t they! That’s the idea⁠—it’s the same thing.
Florence Trenchard They are not the same. In the case of your conundrum there’s a very great difference.
Lord Dundreary Now I’ve got another. Why does a dog waggle his tail?
Florence Trenchard Upon my word, I never inquired.
Lord Dundreary Because the tail can’t waggle the dog. Ha! Ha!
Florence Trenchard Ha! ha! Is that your own, Dundreary?
Lord Dundreary Now I’ve got one, and this one is original.
Florence Trenchard No, no, don’t spoil the last one.
Lord Dundreary Yeth; but this is extremely interesting.
Mrs. Mountchessington Do you think so, Lord Dundreary?
Lord Dundreary Yeth. Miss Georgina likes me to tell her my jokes. By the by, talking of that lonely sufferer, isn’t she an interesting invalid? They do say that’s what’s the matter with me. I’m an interesting invalid.
Florence Trenchard Oh, that accounts for what I have heard so many young ladies say⁠—Florence, dear, don’t you think Lord Dundreary’s extremely interesting? I never knew what they meant before.
Lord Dundreary Yeth, the doctor recommends me to drink donkey’s milk.
Florence Trenchard Hiding laugh. Oh, what a clever man he must be. He knows we generally thrive best on our native food. Goes up.
Lord Dundreary Looking first at Florence Trenchard and then at Mrs. Mountchessington. I’m so weak, and that is so strong. Yes, I’m naturally very weak, and I want strengthening. Yes, I guess I’ll try it.
Enter Augusta. Business with Lord Dundreary, who finally exits and brings on Georgina, L. 1 E.
Lord Dundreary Look at this lonely sufferer. Bringing on Georgina, seats her on sofa, L. There, repothe yourself.
Georgina Fanning herself. Thank you, my lord. Everybody is kind to me, and I am so delicate.
Augusta At table. Captain De Boots, do help to unravel these wools for me, you have such an eye for color.
Florence Trenchard An eye for color! Yes, especially green.
Lord Dundreary Screams. Ha! ha! ha!
All What’s the matter?
Lord Dundreary Why, that wath a joke, that wath.
Florence Trenchard Where was the joke?
Lord Dundreary Especially, ha! ha!
Sir Edward Trenchard Florence, dear, I must leave you to represent me to my guests. These letters will give me a great deal of business today.
Florence Trenchard Well, papa, remember I am your little clerk and person of all work.
Sir Edward Trenchard No, no; this is private business⁠—money matters, my love, which women know nothing about. Aside. Luckily for them. I expect Mr. Coyle today.
Florence Trenchard Dear papa, how I wish you would get another agent.
Sir Edward Trenchard Nonsense, Florence, impossible. He knows my affairs. His father was agent for the late Baronet. He’s one of the family, almost.
Florence Trenchard Papa, I have implicit faith in my own judgement of faces. Depend upon it, that man is not to be trusted.
Sir Edward Trenchard Florence, you are ridiculous. I could not get on a week without him. Aside. Curse him, I wish I could! Mr. Coyle is a most intelligent agent, and a most faithful servant of the family.
Enter Mr. Binny, L. 3 E.
Mr. Binny Mr. Coyle and hagent with papers.
Sir Edward Trenchard Show him into the library. I will be with him presently. Exit Mr. Binny.
Florence Trenchard Remember the archery meeting, papa. It is at three.
Sir Edward Trenchard Yes, yes, I’ll remember. Aside. Pretty time for such levity when ruin stares me in the face. Florence, I leave you as my representative. Aside. Now to prepare myself to meet my Shylock. Exit, R. 1 E.
Florence Trenchard Why will papa not trust me? Harry Vernon comes down, R. Oh, Harry! I wish he would find out what a lot of pluck and common sense there is in this feather head of mine.
Lord Dundreary Miss Florence, will you be kind enough to tell Miss Georgina all about that American relative of yours.
Florence Trenchard Oh, about my American cousin; certainly. Aside to Harry Vernon. Let’s have some fun. Well, he’s about 17 feet high!
Lord Dundreary Good gracious! 17 feet high!
Florence Trenchard They are all 17 feet high in America, ain’t they, Mr. Vernon?
Harry Vernon Yes, that’s about the average height.
Florence Trenchard And they have long black hair that reaches down to their heels; they have dark copper-colored skin, and they fight with⁠—What do they fight with, Mr. Vernon?
Harry Vernon Tomahawks and scalping knives.
Florence Trenchard Yes; and you’d better take care, Miss Georgina, or he’ll take his tomahawk and scalping knife and scalp you immediately. Georgina screams and faints.
Lord Dundreary Here, somebody get something and throw over her; a pail of water; no, not that, she’s pale enough already. Fans her with handkerchief. Georgina, don’t be afraid. Dundreary’s by your side, he will protect you.
Florence Trenchard Don’t be frightened, Georgina. He will never harm you while Dundreary is about. Why, he could get three scalps here. Pulls Lord Dundreary’s whiskers. Georgina screams.
Lord Dundreary Don’t scream, I won’t lose my whiskers. I know what I’ll do for my own safety. I will take this handkerchief and tie the roof of my head on. Ties it on.
Florence Trenchard Pretending to cry. Goodbye, Dundreary. I’ll never see you again in all your glory.
Lord Dundreary Don’t cry, Miss Florence, I’m ready for Mr. Tommy Hawk.
Enter Mr. Binny.
Mr. Binny If you please, Miss, ’ere’s a gent what says he’s hexpected.
Florence Trenchard What’s his name? Where’s his card?
Mr. Binny He didn’t tell me his name, Miss, and when I haxed him for his card ’e said ’e had a whole pack in his valise, and if I ’ad a mine ’e’d play me a game of seven hup. He says he has come to stay, and he certainly looks as if he didn’t mean to go.
Florence Trenchard That’s him. Show him in, Mr. Binny. Exit Mr. Binny, L. 3 E. That’s my American cousin, I know.
Augusta Romantically. Your American cousin. Oh, how delightfully romantic, isn’t it, Captain De Boots? Comes down. I can imagine the wild young hunter, with the free step and majestic mien of the hunter of the forest.
Asa Trenchard Outside, L. 3 E. Consarn your picture, didn’t I tell you I was expected? You are as obstinate as Deacon Stumps’ forelock, that wouldn’t lie down and couldn’t stand up. Would’t pint forward and couldn’t go backward.
Enter Asa Trenchard, L. 3 E., carrying a valise.
Asa Trenchard Where’s the Squire?
Florence Trenchard Do you mean Sir Edward Trenchard, sir?
Asa Trenchard Yes.
Florence Trenchard He is not present, but I am his daughter.
Asa Trenchard Well, I guess that’ll fit about as well if you tell this darned old shoat to take me to my room.
Florence Trenchard What does he mean by shoat?
Mr. Binny Taking valise. He means me, mum; but what he wants⁠—
Asa Trenchard Hurry up, old hoss!
Mr. Binny He calls me a ’oss, Miss, I suppose I shall be a hox next, or perhaps an ’ogg.
Asa Trenchard Wal, darn me if you ain’t the consarnedest old shoat I ever did see since I was baptized Asa Trenchard.
Florence Trenchard Ah! then it is our American cousin. Glad to see you⁠—my brother told us to expect you.
Asa Trenchard Wal, yes, I guess you do b’long to my family. I’m Asa Trenchard, born in Vermont, suckled on the banks of Muddy Creek, about the tallest gunner, the slickest dancer, and generally the loudest critter in the state. You’re my cousin, be you? Wal, I ain’t got no objections to kiss you, as one cousin ought to kiss another.
Harry Vernon Sir, how dare you?
Asa Trenchard Are you one of the family? Cause if you ain’t, you’ve got no right to interfere, and if you be, you needn’t be alarmed, I ain’t going to kiss you. Here’s your young man’s letter. Gives letter and attempts to kiss her.
Florence Trenchard In the old country, Mr. Trenchard, cousins content themselves with hands, but our hearts are with them. You are welcome, there is mine. Gives her hand, which he shakes heartily.
Asa Trenchard That’ll do about as well. I won’t kiss you if you don’t want me to; but if you did, I wouldn’t stop on account of that sailor man. Business of Harry Vernon threatening Asa Trenchard. Oh! now you needn’t get your back up. What an all-fired chap you are. Now if you’ll have me shown to my room, I should like to fix up a bit and put on a clean buzzom. All start. Why, what on earth is the matter with you all? I only spoke because you’re so all-fired go-to-meeting like.
Florence Trenchard Show Mr. Trenchard to the red room, Mr. Binny, that is if you are done with it, Mr. Dundreary.
Lord Dundreary Yeth, Miss Florence. The room and I have got through with each other, yeth.
Asa Trenchard and Lord Dundreary see each other for the first time. Business of recognition, ad lib.
Asa Trenchard Concentrated essence of baboons, what on earth is that?
Lord Dundreary He’s mad. Yes, Miss Florence, I’ve done with that room. The rooks crowed so that they racked my brain.
Asa Trenchard You don’t mean to say that you’ve got any brains.
Lord Dundreary No, sir, such a thing never entered my head. The wed indians want to scalp me. Holding hands to his head.
Florence Trenchard The red room, then, Mr. Binny.
Asa Trenchard To Mr. Binny. Hold on! Examines him. Wal, darn me, but you keep your help in all-fired good order here. Feels of him. This old shoat is fat enough to kill. Hits Mr. Binny in stomach. Mr. Binny runs off, L. 2 E. Mind how you go up stairs, old hoss, or you’ll bust your biler. Exit, L. 3 E.
Lord Dundreary Now he thinks Mr. Binny’s an engine and has got a boiler.
Florence Trenchard Oh, what fun!
Mrs. Mountchessington Old Mark Trenchard died very rich, did he not, Florence?
Florence Trenchard Very rich, I believe.
Augusta He’s not at all romantic, is he, mamma?
Mrs. Mountchessington Aside to her. My dear, I have no doubt he has solid good qualities, and I don’t want you to laugh at him like Florence Trenchard.
Augusta No, mamma, I won’t.
Florence Trenchard But what are we to do with him?
Lord Dundreary Ha! Ha! ha!
All What is the matter?
Lord Dundreary I’ve got an idea.
Florence Trenchard Oh! let’s hear Dundreary’s idea.
Lord Dundreary It’s so seldom I get an idea that when I do get one it startles me. Let us get a pickle bottle.
Florence Trenchard Pickle bottle! All come down.
Lord Dundreary Yeth; one of those things with glass sides.
Enter Asa Trenchard, L. 2 E.
Florence Trenchard Oh! you mean a glass case.
Lord Dundreary Yeth, a glass case, that’s the idea, and let us put this Mr. Thomas Hawk in it, and have him on exhibition. That’s the idea.
Asa Trenchard Down L. of Florence Trenchard, overhearing. Oh! that’s your idea, is it? Wal, stranger, I don’t know what they’re going to do with me, but wherever they do put me, I hope it will be out of the reach of a jackass. I’m a real hoss, I am, and I get kinder riley with those critters.
Lord Dundreary Now he thinks he’s a horse. I’ve heard of a great jackass, and I dreampt of a jackass, but I don’t believe there is any such insect.
Florence Trenchard Well, cousin, I hope you made yourself comfortable.
Asa Trenchard Well, no, I can’t say as I did. You see there was so many all-fired fixins in my room I couldn’t find anything I wanted.
Florence Trenchard What was it you couldn’t find in your room?
Asa Trenchard There was no soft soap.
Capt. De Boots Soft soap!
Augusta Soft soap!
Harry Vernon Soft soap!
Mrs. Mountchessington Soft soap!
Florence Trenchard Soft soap!
Georgina On sofa. Soft soap!
Lord Dundreary Thoft thoap?
Asa Trenchard Yes, soft soap. I reckon you know what that is. However, I struck a pump in the kitchen, slicked my hair down a little, gave my boots a lick of grease, and now I feel quite handsome; but I’m everlastingly dry.
Florence Trenchard You’ll find ale, wine and luncheon on the side table.
Asa Trenchard Wal, I don’t know as I’ve got any appetite. You see comin’ along on the cars I worried down half a dozen ham sandwiches, eight or ten boiled eggs, two or three pumpkin pies and a string of cold sausages⁠—and⁠—Wal, I guess I can hold on till dinnertime.
Lord Dundreary Did that illustrious exile eat all that? I wonder where he put it?
Asa Trenchard I’m as dry as a sap-tree in August.
Mr. Binny Throwing open, E. D. Luncheon!
Asa Trenchard Goes hastily up to table. Wal, I don’t want to speak out too plain, but this is an awful mean set out for a big house like this.
Florence Trenchard Why, what’s wrong, sir?
Asa Trenchard Why, there’s no mush!
Asa Trenchard Nary slapjack.
Lord Dundreary Why, does he want Mary to slap Jack?
Asa Trenchard No pork and beans!
Lord Dundreary Pork’s been here, but he’s left.
Asa Trenchard And where on airth’s the clam chowder?
Lord Dundreary Where is clam chowder? He’s never here when he’s wanted.
Asa Trenchard Drinks and spits. Here’s your health, old hoss. Do you call that a drink? See here, cousin, you seem to be the liveliest critter here, so just hurry up the fixins, and I’ll show this benighted aristocratic society what real liquor is. So hurry up the fixins.
All Fixins?
Florence Trenchard What do you mean by fixins?
Asa Trenchard Why, brandy, rum, gin and whiskey. We’ll make them all useful.
Florence Trenchard Oh, I’ll hurry up the fixins. What fun! Exit, R.
Lord Dundreary Oh! I thought he meant the gas fixins.
Asa Trenchard Say, you, you Mr. Puffy, you run out and get me a bunch of mint and a bundle of straws; hurry up, old hoss. Exit Mr. Binny, L. 3 E., indignantly. Say, Mr. Sailor man, just help me down with this table. Oh! don’t you get riley, you and I ran against each other when I came in, but we’ll be friends yet. Harry Vernon helps him with table to C.
Enter Florence Trenchard, followed by servants in livery; they carry a case of decanters and water, on which are seven or eight glasses, two or three tin mixers and a bowl of sugar. Mr. Binny enters with a bunch of mint and a few straws.
Florence Trenchard Here, cousin, are the fixins.
Asa Trenchard That’s yer sort. Now then, I’ll give you all a drink that’ll make you squeal. To Mr. Binny. Here, Puffy, just shake that up, faster. I’ll give that sick gal a drink that’ll make her squirm like an eel on a mud bank.
Lord Dundreary Screams. What a horrible idea. Runs about stage.
Florence Trenchard Oh, don’t mind him! That’s only an American joke.
Lord Dundreary A joke! Do you call that a joke? To make a sick girl squirm like a mud bank on an eel’s skin?
Asa Trenchard Yes, I’ll give you a drink that’ll make your whiskers return under your chin, which is their natural location. Now, ladies and gentlemen, what’ll you have, Whiskey Skin, Brandy Smash, Sherry Cobbler, Mint Julep or Jersey Lightning?
Augusta Oh, I want a Mint Julep.
Capt. De Boots Give me a Gin Cocktail.
Florence Trenchard I’ll take a Sherry Cobbler.
Harry Vernon Brandy Smash for me.
Mrs. Mountchessington Give me a Whiskey Skin.
Georgina I’ll take a Lemonade.
Lord Dundreary Give me a Jersey Lightning.
Asa Trenchard Give him a Jersey Lightning. As Lord Dundreary drinks. Warranted to kill at forty rods. Lord Dundreary falls back on Mrs. Mountchessington and Georgina.
Closed in.

Scene 2

Library in Trenchard Manor. Oriel Window, L. C., with curtains. Two chairs and table brought on at change.

Enter Mr. Binny and Mr. Coyle, L. 1 E.
Mr. Binny Sir Hedward will see you directly, Mr. Coyle.
Mr. Coyle Very well. House full of company, I see, Mr. Binny.
Mr. Binny Cram full, Mr. Coyle. As one of the first families in the country we must keep up our position.
Mr. Coyle Rubbing his hands. Certainly, certainly, that is as long as we can, Mr. Binny. Tell Murcott, my clerk, to bring my papers in here. You’ll find him in the servant’s hall, and see that you keep your strong ale out of his way. People who serve me must have their senses about them.
Mr. Binny Aside. I should say so, or ’e’d ’ave hevery tooth hout in their ’eds, the wiper. Exit, L. 1 E.
Mr. Coyle And now to show this pompous baronet the precipice on which he stands.
Enter Murcott, with green bag and papers.
Mr. Coyle Are you sober, sirrah?
Murcott Yes, Mr. Coyle.
Mr. Coyle Then see you keep so.
Abel Murcott I’ll do my best, sir. But, oh! do tell them to keep liquor out of my way. I can’t keep from it now, try as I will, and I try hard enough, God help me!
Mr. Coyle Pshaw! Get out those mortgages and the letters from my London agent. Murcott takes papers from bag and places them on table. Mr. Coyle looks off, R. 1 E. So; here comes Sir Edward. Go, but be within call. I may want you to witness a signature.
Abel Murcott I will sir. Aside. I must have brandy, or my hand will not be steady enough to write. Exit, L. 1 E.
Enter Sir Edward Trenchard, R. 1 E. Mr. Coyle bows.
Sir Edward Trenchard Good morning, Mr. Coyle, good morning. With affected ease. There is a chair, Mr. Coyle. They sit. So you see those infernal tradespeople are pretty troublesome.
Mr. Coyle My agent’s letter this morning announces that Walter and Brass have got judgement and execution on their amount for repairing your town house last season. Refers to papers. Boquet and Barker announce their intention of taking this same course with the wine account. Handmarth is preparing for a settlement of his heavy demand for the stables. Then there is Temper for pictures and other things and Miss Florence Trenchard’s account with Madame Pompon, and⁠—
Sir Edward Trenchard Confound it, why harass me with details, these infernal particulars? Have you made out the total?
Mr. Coyle Four thousand, eight hundred and thirty pounds, nine shillings and sixpence.
Sir Edward Trenchard Well, of course we must find means of settling this extortion.
Mr. Coyle Yes, Sir Edward, if possible.
Sir Edward Trenchard If possible?
Mr. Coyle I, as your agent, must stoop to detail, you must allow me to repeat, if possible.
Sir Edward Trenchard Why, you don’t say there will be any difficulty in raising the money?
Mr. Coyle What means would you suggest, Sir Edward.
Sir Edward Trenchard That, sir, is your business.
Mr. Coyle A foretaste in the interest on the Fanhille and Ellenthrope mortgages, you are aware both are in the arrears, the mortgagees in fact, write here to announce their intentions to foreclose. Shows papers.
Sir Edward Trenchard Curse your impudence, pay them off.
Mr. Coyle How, Sir Edward?
Sir Edward Trenchard Confound it, sir, which of us is the agent? Am I to find you brains for your own business?
Mr. Coyle No, Sir Edward, I can furnish the brains, but what I ask of you is to furnish the money.
Sir Edward Trenchard There must be money somewhere, I came into possession of one of the finest properties in Hampshire only twenty-six years ago, and now you mean to tell me I cannot raise 4,000 pounds?
Mr. Coyle The fact is distressing, Sir Edward, but so it is.
Sir Edward Trenchard There’s the Ravensdale property unencumbered.
Mr. Coyle There, Sir Edward, you are under a mistake. The Ravensdale property is deeply encumbered, to nearly its full value.
Sir Edward Trenchard Springing up. Good heavens.
Mr. Coyle I have found among my father’s papers a mortgage of that very property to him.
Sir Edward Trenchard To your father! My father’s agent?
Mr. Coyle Yes, bearing date the year after the great contested election for the county, on which the late Sir Edward patriotically spent sixty thousand pounds for the honor of not being returned to Parliament.
Sir Edward Trenchard A mortgage on the Ravensdale estate. But it must have been paid off, Mr. Coyle, Anxiously have you looked for the release or the receipt?
Mr. Coyle Neither exists. My father’s sudden death explains sufficiently. I was left in ignorance of the transaction, but the seals on the deed and the stamps are intact, here it is, sir. Shows it.
Sir Edward Trenchard Sir, do you know that if this be true I am something like a beggar, and your father something like a thief.
Mr. Coyle I see the first plainly, Sir Edward, but not the second.
Sir Edward Trenchard Do you forget sir, that your father was a charity boy, fed, clothed by my father?
Mr. Coyle Well, Sir Edward?
Sir Edward Trenchard And do you mean to tell me, sir, that your father repaid that kindness by robbing his benefactor?
Mr. Coyle Certainly not, but by advancing money to that benefactor when he wanted it, and by taking the security of one of his benefactor’s estates, as any prudent man would under the circumstances.
Sir Edward Trenchard Why, then, sir, the benefactor’s property is yours.
Mr. Coyle Pardon me, the legal estate you have your equity of redemption. You have only to pay the money and the estate is yours as before.
Sir Edward Trenchard How dare you, sir, when you have just shown me that I cannot raise five hundred pounds in the world. Oh! Florence, why did I not listen to you when you warned me against this man?
Mr. Coyle Aside. Oh! she warned you, did she? Aloud. I see one means, at least, of keeping the Ravensdale estate in the family.
Sir Edward Trenchard What is it?
Mr. Coyle By marrying your daughter to the mortgagee.
Sir Edward Trenchard To you?
Mr. Coyle I am prepared to settle the estate on Miss Trenchard the day she becomes Mrs. Richard Coyle.
Sir Edward Trenchard Springing up. You insolent scoundrel, how dare you insult me in my own house, sir. Leave it, sir, or I will have you kicked out by my servants.
Mr. Coyle I never take an angry man at his word, Sir Edward. Give a few moments reflection to my offer, you can have me kicked out afterwards.
Sir Edward Trenchard Pacing stage. A beggar, Sir Edward Trenchard a beggar, see my children reduced to labor for their bread, to misery perhaps; but the alternative, Florence detests him, still the match would save her, at least, from ruin. He might take the family name, I might retrench, retire, to the continent for a few years. Florence’s health might serve as a pretence. Repugnant as the alternative is, yet it deserves consideration.
Mr. Coyle Who has watched. Now, Sir Edward, shall I ring for the servants to kick me out?
Sir Edward Trenchard Nay Mr. Coyle, you must pardon my outburst, you know I am hasty, and⁠—
Florence Trenchard Without. Papa, dear! Enters gaily, starts on seeing Mr. Coyle. Papa, pardon my breaking in on business, but our American cousin has come, such an original⁠—and we are only waiting for you to escort us to the field.
Sir Edward Trenchard I will come directly, my love. Mr. Coyle, my dear, you did not see him.
Florence Trenchard Disdainfully. Oh! yes, I saw him, papa.
Sir Edward Trenchard Nay, Florence, your hand to Mr. Coyle. Aside. I insist.
Florence Trenchard Papa. Frightened at his look, gives her hand. Mr. Coyle attempts to kiss it, she snatches it away and crosses to L.
Sir Edward Trenchard Crosses to L. Come, Florence. Mr. Coyle, we will join you in the park. Come, my love, take my arm. Hurries her off, L. 1 E.
Mr. Coyle Shallow, selfish fool. She warned you of me did she? And you did not heed her; you shall both pay dearly. She, for her suspicions, and you that you did not share them. Walks up and down. How lucky the seals were not cut from that mortgage, when the release was given. ’Tis like the silly security of the Trenchard’s. This mortgage makes Ravensdale mine, while the release that restores it to its owner lies in the recess of the bureau, whose secret my father revealed to me on his deathbed. Enter Murcott, L. 1 E. Write to the mortgagee of the Fanhill and Ellenthrope estates, to foreclose before the week is out, and tell Walters and Brass to put in execution today. We’ll prick this windbag of a Baronet. Abel, we have both a bone to pick with him and his daughter. Murcott starts. Why, what’s the matter?
Abel Murcott Nothing, the dizziness I’ve had lately.
Mr. Coyle Brandy in the evening, brandy in the morning, brandy all night. What a fool you are, Murcott.
Abel Murcott Who knows that as well as I do?
Mr. Coyle If you would but keep the money out of your mouth, there’s the making of a man in you yet.
Abel Murcott No, no, it’s gone too far, it’s gone too far, thanks to the man who owns this house, you know all about it. How he found me a thriving, sober lad, flogging the village children through their spelling book. How he took a fancy to me as he called it, and employed me here to teach his son and Miss Florence. His voice falters. Then remember how I forgot who and what I was, and was cuffed out of the house like a dog. How I lost my school, my good name, but still hung about the place, they all looked askance at me, you don’t know how that kills the heart of a man, then I took to drink and sank down, down, till I came to this.
Mr. Coyle You owe Sir Edward revenge, do you not? You shall have a rare revenge on him, that mortgage you found last week puts the remainder of the property in my reach, and I close my hand on it unless he will consent to my terms.
Abel Murcott You can drive a hard bargain. I know.
Mr. Coyle And a rare price I ask for his forbearance, Abel⁠—his daughter’s hand.
Abel Murcott Florence?
Mr. Coyle Yes, Florence marries Richard Coyle. Richard Coyle steps into Sir Edward’s estates. There, you dog, will not that be a rare revenge. So follow me with those papers. Crosses to L. And now to lay the mine that will topple over the pride of the Trenchards. Exit L. 1 E.
Abel Murcott He marry Florence! Florence Trenchard! My Florence. Mine! Florence his wife. No, no, better a thousand times she had been mine, low as I am, when I dreampt that dream, but it shan’t be, it shan’t be. Tremblingly putting papers in bag. If I can help her, sot though I am. Yes, I can help her, if the shock don’t break me down. Oh! my poor muddled brain, surely there was a release with it when I found it. I must see Florence to warn her and expose Mr. Coyle’s villainy. Oh! how my poor head throbs when I try to. I shall die if I don’t have a drop of brandy, yes brandy. Exit, L. 1 E.

Scene 3

Chamber in 3. at Trenchard Manor. Large shower bath near R. 3 E. Toilet table with draw, L. 2 E. Small bottle in draw with red sealing wax on cork.

Asa Trenchard discovered seated, R. with foot on table, smoking a cigar. Valise on floor in front of him. Mr. Binny discovered standing by his side.
Asa Trenchard Wal, I guess I begin to feel kinder comfortable here in this place, if it wan’t for this tarnal fat critter. He don’t seem to have any work to do, but swells out his big bosom like an old turkey-cock in laying time. I do wonder what he’s here for? Do they think I mean to absquatulate with the spoons? Mr. Binny attempts to take valise⁠—Asa Trenchard puts his foot on it. Let that sweat. That’s my plunder.
Mr. Binny Will you have the kindness to give me your keys, hif you please, sir?
Asa Trenchard What do you want with my keys?
Mr. Binny To put your things away in the wardrobe, sir.
Asa Trenchard Wal, I calculate if my two shirts, three bosoms, four collars, and two pair of socks were to get into that everlasting big bunk, they’d think themselves so all-fired small I should never be able to crawl into them again.
Mr. Binny Will you take a baath before you dress?
Asa Trenchard Take a baath?
Mr. Binny A baath.
Asa Trenchard I suppose you mean a bath. Wal, man, I calkalate I ain’t going to expose myself to the shakes by getting into cold water in this cruel cold climate of yours, so make tracks.
Mr. Binny Make what?
Asa Trenchard Vamose!
Mr. Binny Make vamose!
Asa Trenchard Absquatulate.
Mr. Binny Ab⁠—what sir?
Asa Trenchard Skedaddle.
Mr. Binny Skedaddle?
Asa Trenchard Oh! get out.
Mr. Binny Oh! Going. If you are going to dress you’ll want some hassistance.
Asa Trenchard Assistance! what to get out of my unmentionables and into them again? Wal, ’spose I do, what then?
Mr. Binny Just ring the bell, hi’ll hattend you.
Asa Trenchard All right, come along. Mr. Binny going. Hold on, say, I may want to yawn presently and I shall want somebody to shut my mouth. Mr. Binny hurries off, L. 1 E. Wal, now I am alone, I can look about me and indulge the enquiring spirit of an American citizen. What an everlasting lot of things and fixins there is to be sure. Opens table draw. Here’s a place will hold my plunder beautifully. Sees bottle. Hallo, what’s this? Comes down. Something good to drink. Smells bottle. It smells awful bad. Reads label. Golden Fluid, one application turns the hair a beautiful brown, several applications will turn the hair a lustrous black. Well, if they keep on it may turn a pea green. I reckon this has been left here by some fellow who is ashamed of the natural color of his top knot. Knock. Come in.
Enter Mr. Binny, L. 1 E.
Mr. Binny Mr. Buddicombe, sir, my lord’s hown man.
Asa Trenchard Roll him in. Mr. Binny beckons, enter Mr. Buddicombe. Turkey cock number two, what is it?
Mr. Buddicombe My Lord Dundreary’s compliments and have you seen a small bottle in the toilet table drawer?
Asa Trenchard Suppose I had, what then?
Mr. Buddicombe My lord wants it particly.
Asa Trenchard Was it a small bottle?
Mr. Buddicombe A small bottle.
Mr. Binny Bottle small.
Asa Trenchard Blue label?
Mr. Binny Label blue.
Asa Trenchard Red sealing wax on the top?
Mr. Buddicombe Red sealing wax.
Mr. Binny Wax red.
Asa Trenchard Nice little bottle?
Mr. Binny Little bottle nice.
Asa Trenchard Wal, I ain’t seen it. Aside. If my lord sets a valley on it, guess it must be worth something.
Mr. Buddicombe Sorry to trouble you, sir.
Mr. Binny Aside to Mr. Buddicombe. What his hit?
Mr. Buddicombe My lord’s hair dye, the last bottle, and he turns red tomorrow. Exit in haste.
Mr. Binny Orrable, what an hawful situation, to be sure.
Asa Trenchard Aside. So I’ve got my ring on that lord’s nose, and if I don’t make him dance to my tune it’s a pity.
Mr. Binny Miss Florence begged me to say she had borrowed a costume for you, for the harchery meeting, sir.
Asa Trenchard Hain’t you dropped something?
Mr. Binny Where?
Asa Trenchard What do you mean by the harchery meeting?
Mr. Binny Where they shoot with bows and harrows.
Asa Trenchard There goes another of them, oh! you need’nt look for them, you can’t find ’em when you want ’em. Now you just take my compliments to Miss Trenchard when I goes out shooting with injurious weapons I always wears my own genuine shooting costume. That’s the natural buff tipped off with a little red paint.
Mr. Binny Good gracious, he’d look like Hadam and Heve, in the garden of Eden. Exit Mr. Binny.
Asa Trenchard Wal, there’s a queer lot of fixings. Sees shower bath. What on airth is that? Looks like a ’skeeter net, only it ain’t long enough for a feller to lay down in unless he was to coil himself up like a woodchuck in a knot hole. I’d just like to know what the all-fired thing is meant for. Calls. Say Puffy, Puffy, Oh! he told me if I wanted him to ring the bell. Looks round room. Where on airth is the bell? Slips partly inside shower bath, pulls rope, water comes down. Murder! help! fire! Water! I’m drown.
Enter Skillet, Sharpe, R. 1 E. Mr. Binny, Mr. Buddicombe, L. 1 E., seeing Asa Trenchard, all laugh, and keep it up till curtain falls.

Curtain.