Our American Cousin

Act II

Scene 1

Oriel Chamber in one.

	Enter Mrs. Mountchessington* and Augusta, L. 1 E., dressed for Archery Meeting.*
Mrs. Mountchessington	No, my dear Augusta, you must be very careful. I don’t by any means want you to give up De Boots, his expectations are excellent, but, pray be attentive to this American savage, as I rather think he will prove the better match of the two, if what I hear of Mark Trenchard’s property be correct.
Augusta	Disdainfully. Yes, ma.
Mrs. Mountchessington	And look more cheerful, my love.
Augusta	I am so tired, ma, of admiring things I hate.
Mrs. Mountchessington	Yes, my poor love, yet we must all make sacrifices to society. Look at your poor sister, with the appetite.
Augusta	What am I to be enthusiastic about with that American, Ma?
Mrs. Mountchessington	Oh! I hardly know yet, my dear. We must study him. I think if you read up Sam Slick a little, it might be useful, and just dip into Bancroft’s History of the United States, or some of Russell’s Letters; you should know something of George Washington, of whom the Americans are justly proud.
Augusta	Here he comes, ma. What a ridiculous figure he looks in that dress, ha! ha!
Mrs. Mountchessington	Hush, my dear!
	Enter Asa Trenchard, in Archery Dress.
Augusta	Oh, Mr. Trenchard, why did you not bring me one of those lovely Indian’s dresses of your boundless prairie?
Mrs. Mountchessington	Yes, one of those dresses in which you hunt the buffalo.
Augusta	Extravagantly. Yes, in which you hunt the buffalo.
Asa Trenchard	Imitating. In which I hunt the buffalo. Aside. Buffaloes down in Vermont. Aloud. Wal, you see, them dresses are principally the nateral skin, tipped off with paint, and the indians object to parting with them.
Both	Ahem! ahem!
Asa Trenchard	The first buffalo I see about here I shall hunt up for you.
Mrs. Mountchessington	Oh, you Americans are so clever, and so acute.
Augusta	Yes, so ’cute.
Asa Trenchard	Yes, we’re ’cute, we are; know soft solder when we see it.
Augusta	Aside. Ma, I do believe he’s laughing at us.
Mrs. Mountchessington	Oh, no, my dear, you are mistaken. Oh! I perceive they are appearing for the archery practice. I suppose we shall see you on the ground, Mr. Trenchard.
Asa Trenchard	Yes, I’ll be there like a thousand of brick.
Augusta	A thousand of brick!
Mrs. Mountchessington	Hush, my dear! that is doubtless some elegant American expression. Au revoir, Mr. Trenchard.
Asa Trenchard	Which?
Mrs. Mountchessington	Au revoir. Exit with Augusta, R.
Asa Trenchard	No, thank you, don’t take any before dinner. No use their talking Dutch to me. Wal, I never see an old gal stand fire like that, she’s a real old bison bull. I feel all-fired tuckered out riding in those keers. I’d like to have a snooze if I could find a place to lay down in. Sees curtain on window, L. E. Oh, this might do! Pulls curtain, then starts back. No you don’t! One shower bath a day is enough for me. Cautiously opens them. No, I guess this is all right, I shall be just as snug in here as in a pew at meeting, or a private box at the Theatre. Hello! somebody’s coming. Goes into recess.
	Enter Lord Dundreary* and Mr. Buddicombe, L. 1 E.*
Mr. Buddicombe	My lord⁠—
Lord Dundreary	Business.
Mr. Buddicombe	My lord!
Lord Dundreary	Business.
Mr. Buddicombe	Your lordship!! Louder.
Lord Dundreary	There, now you’ve spoiled it.
Mr. Buddicombe	Spoiled what, my lord?
Lord Dundreary	Spoiled what, my lord; why, a most magnificent sneeze!
Mr. Buddicombe	I am very sorry, my lord.
Lord Dundreary	Now that I can speak alone with you, tell me about that hair dye. Have you found it?
Mr. Buddicombe	Not a trace of it, my lord.
Lord Dundreary	If you don’t find it, I’ll discharge you.
Mr. Buddicombe	Very well, my lord. Bows and exits, L. 1 E.
Lord Dundreary	Very well, my lord! He’s gone and lost my hair dye, and my hair turns red tomorrow, and when I ask him to find it for me or I’ll discharge him, he says, ‘Very well, my lord.’ He’s positively idiotic, he is⁠—Ah! here comes Miss Georgina, that gorgeous creature⁠—that lovely sufferer. Exit, L. 1 E.
Asa Trenchard	Looking out. What’s the price of hair dye? Hallo! he’s coming again with that sick girl.
	Reenter Lord Dundreary* and Georgina, L. 1 E.*
Lord Dundreary	Will you try and strengthen your limbs with a gentle walk in the garden?
Georgina	No, thank you, my lord. I’m so delicate. Oh, my lord, it is so painful to walk languidly through life, to be unable, at times, to bear the perfumes of one’s favorite flowers. Even those violets you sent me yesterday I was compelled to have removed from my room, the perfume was too strong for me. I’m so delicate.
Lord Dundreary	Yes, Miss Georgina; but they’re very strengthening flowers, you know.
Georgina	Yes, my lord, you are always right.
Lord Dundreary	Do you know I’m getting to be very robust?
Georgina	Would I could share that fault with you; but I am so delicate.
Lord Dundreary	If you were robust I should not love you as I do. It would deprive you of that charm which enchains me to your lovely side, which⁠—which⁠—
Georgina	Oh, my lord, my lord! I’m going to faint.
Lord Dundreary	And I’m going to sneeze, you faint while I sneeze.
Georgina	Taking his arm. Oh! my lord.
Lord Dundreary	Do you know what a sneeze is?
Georgina	No, my lord.
Lord Dundreary	She never sneezed. I’ll tell you what a sneeze is. Imagine a very large spider.
Georgina	Screams. Where, my lord?
Lord Dundreary	No, no, I don’t mean a real spider, only an imaginary one, a large spider getting up your nose, and all of a sudden, much to his disgust, he discovers he has put his foot in it and can’t get it out again.
Georgina	That must be very distressing.
Lord Dundreary	For the spider, yes, and not very pleasant for the nose.
Georgina	Oh! my lord, do take me to mamma.
Lord Dundreary	No, you lovely sufferer, let’s walk a little more.
Georgina	I can’t my lord, I’m so delicate.
Lord Dundreary	Well, then, exercise, imitate that little hop of mine. Hops. It isn’t a run, it’s a⁠—
Georgina	What is it?
Lord Dundreary	No, it isn’t a what is it. Well, let me suppose I get you an oyster. Georgina shakes her head. Oh! then suppose I get you an oyster.
Georgina	No, my lord, I’m too delicate.
Lord Dundreary	How would you like the left wing of a canary bird?
Georgina	No, my lord, it’s too strong for me.
Lord Dundreary	Let me ask you a widdle⁠—why does a duck go under water? for divers reasons. Now I’ll give you another⁠—why does a duck come out of the water? for sundry reasons. No! No! see, you live on suction, you’re like that bird with a long bill, they call doctor, no, that’s not it, I thought it was a doctor, because it has a long bill⁠—I mean a snipe⁠—yes, you’re a lovely snipe. Exeunt, R.
Asa Trenchard	Looking after them. There goes a load of wooden nutmegs. Hello, here comes somebody else.
	Enter Florence Trenchard, R., with paper.
Florence Trenchard	Reads. “One who still remembers what he ought long since to have forgotten, wishes to speak with Miss Trenchard.” Florence scratched out, “on matters of life and death, near the orel, in the west gallery.” Written upon a dirty sheet of paper, in a hardly legible hand. What does this mean; it opens like one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s romances. Well, here I am, and now for my correspondent.
	Enter Abel Murcott, L.
Abel Murcott	Oh! for one minute’s clear head, Miss Florence.
Florence Trenchard	I presume you are the writer of this?
Abel Murcott	Yes, I am.
Florence Trenchard	You address me as an old acquaintance, but I do not recognize you.
Abel Murcott	So much the better. So much the better.
Florence Trenchard	I hate mystery, sir; but you see I have come to rendezvous. I must know to whom I am speaking.
Abel Murcott	As frank as ever. I am Abel Murcott.
Florence Trenchard	Starting back! You?
Abel Murcott	Do not be ashamed, I have not the strength to injure you, if I had the evil. In this shabby, broken down drunkard you need not fear the madman, who years ago forgot in his frantic passion the gulf that lay between your station and his own. I am harmless except to myself.
Florence Trenchard	Speak on, sir; I hear you.
Abel Murcott	I need not tell you by what steps I came to this, you don’t know, maybe you never knew, what a maddening thing a passion is when it turns against itself. After being expelled from my tutorship in this house, I lost my employment, self-respect, hope. I sought to drown recollection and draw courage from drink. It only embittered remembrances, and destroyed the little courage I had left. That I have bread to eat, I owe to Mr. Coyle; he employed me as his clerk. You know he has been with your father this morning. I have come to tell you my errand; are you as brave as you used to be when I knew⁠—
Florence Trenchard	I fear nothing.
Abel Murcott	I come to tell you of your father’s ruin, his utter ruin.
Florence Trenchard	My father’s ruin? What? What?
Abel Murcott	His estates are mortgaged, his creditors clamorous. The Bailiffs will be in Trenchard Manor today, disguised as your own servants. This much Mr. Coyle has conceded to your father’s respect for appearances.
Florence Trenchard	Then beggary stares him in the face. Poor father, what a sad blow for him. Is that all, sir?
Abel Murcott	No; the worst remains.
Florence Trenchard	Go on, sir.
Abel Murcott	Mr. Coyle knows your father’s weakness and as a means of escape from ruin to the verge of which he has brought him, he has this day proposed for your hand.
Florence Trenchard	Mine!
Abel Murcott	On consideration of settling on you the Ravensdale Estate.
Florence Trenchard	And my father, how did he listen to such insolence?
Abel Murcott	You know as well as I do how he would hear such a proposal, at first a torrent of rage, then the strong ebb of selfishness set in, and he consented to listen to the terms, to view them as something to be considered, to consider them.
Florence Trenchard	Good Heavens, can this be true? No, I will not believe it of my father, and from such lips.
Abel Murcott	You have full right to think this and to say it, but mark your father and Mr. Coyle today. You will then see if I speak truth or not.
Florence Trenchard	Forgive my distrust, Mr. Murcott.
Abel Murcott	I am past taking offence or feeling scorn, I have carried more than can be heaped upon me, but I did not come only to give you warning of your danger.
Florence Trenchard	Can you avert it?
Asa Trenchard	Coming down between them. Wal, stranger that’s just the question I was going to ask.
Florence Trenchard	You here, sir, and listening.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, it wasn’t purpose, I went in there to take a snooze, I heard you talking and I thought it wouldn’t be polite of me not to listen to what you had to say. I’m a rough sort of a customer, and don’t know much about the ways of great folks. But I’ve got a cool head, a stout arm, and a willing heart, and I think I can help you, just as one cousin ought to help another.
Florence Trenchard	Well, I do think you are honest.
Abel Murcott	Shall I go on?
Florence Trenchard	Yes, we will trust him, go on.
Abel Murcott	I found the Ravensdale mortgage while rumaging in an old deed box of Mr. Coyle’s father’s, there was a folded paper inside the deed. I took both to Mr. Coyle unopened, like a besotted fool that I was. My belief is strong that the paper was the release of the mortgage that the money had been paid off, and the release executed without the seals having been cut from the original mortgage. I have known such things happen.
Asa Trenchard	Have ye, now? Well, if a Yankee lawyer had done such a thing he would have Judge Lynch after him in no time.
Abel Murcott	You can but find that release, we may unmask this diabolical fiend and save you.
Florence Trenchard	But, surely, a villain of Mr. Coyle’s stability would have destroyed the paper, the very keystone of his fraud.
Abel Murcott	I fear so.
Asa Trenchard	Do you, now, wal, you’re wrong, you’re both wrong. I guess you ain’t either on you done much ciphering human nature. The keystone of their fraud is just the point your mighty cute rascals always leave unsecured. Come along with me, stranger, and we’ll just work up this sum a little, two heads are better than one. Yours is a little muddled, but mine’s pretty clear, and if I don’t circumvent that old sarpint, Mr. Coyle⁠—
Florence Trenchard	Well?
Asa Trenchard	Say I am a skunk, that’s all, and that’s the meanest kind of an animal. Exit L. 1 E.
Florence Trenchard	I owe you much, Mr. Murcott, more than I can ever repay.
Abel Murcott	No, no, no, if you did but know the hope of seeing you has roused all the manhood that drink and misery has left me. God bless you, Miss Florence.
Florence Trenchard	No, you don’t call me Florence as you did when I was the truant pupil and you the indulgent tutor. Offers her hand.
Abel Murcott	No, no; for heaven’s sake do not call back that time or I shall go mad! mad! mad. Rushes off, L. 1 E., followed by Florence Trenchard.

Scene 2

Park in 4. Rural cottage, L. 1 E., adjoining which, and projecting on stage an inside view of a dairy with sloping roof, painting backing to look like milk pans. The whole scene should have a picturesque appearance. Garden fence run across back, ornamental gate or archway, R. 3 E. Pigeon house on pole near dairy, L. C. Spinning wheel inside cottage door, one or two rustic benches, R. and L.

	Enter John Wickens, R. 3 E, with two milk pails on a yoke, puts them down near dairy, then looks off, R. 3 E.
John Wickens	There they go, that’s a bull’s eye, I warrant. Dang me though, if I wouldn’t rather see Miss Mary than this cock robin sports yonder, here she comes. Good morning, Miss Mary. Enter Mary from cottage L.
Mary	Oh, Wickens, you are there. How kind of you to help me with the milk pails today, when all the lads and lasses have given themselves a holiday to see the shooting.
John Wickens	Ah, Miss Mary, you ought to be among then, with a green hat and feather, if all had their rights.
Mary	Laughing. Nay, ladies without a farthing in the world, ought to put aside their ladyships and make themselves: besides I’m proud of my dairy here, just help me with this troublesome fellow, steady, don’t shake it, the cream is foaming so beautifully. There. John Wickens carries pan into cottage and returns down, R.
John Wickens	Now, Miss Mary, what can I do for you?
Mary	Let me see; well, really, I do believe, Wickens, I’ve nothing to do but amuse myself.
John Wickens	Dang it, Miss, that’s a pity, cos I can’t help you at that, you see.
Mary	Oh! Yes, bring me out dear old Welsh nurse’s spinning wheel Exit John Wickens* into cottage, L. 2 E.* by the side of which I have stood so often, a round-eyed baby wondering at its whirring wheel. Reenter John Wickens* with wheel, places it near cottage, L. 2 E.* There, that will do famously. I can catch the full scent of the jessamines.
John Wickens	R. C. Anything more, Miss Mary?
Mary	No, thank you, Wickens!
John Wickens	Going. Good morning, Miss Mary.
Mary	Good morning, Wickens.
John Wickens	Returning. Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Mary?
Mary	Spinning. Nothing, thank you.
John Wickens	Dang me if I wouldn’t like to stop all day, and watch her pretty figure and run errands for her. Exit R. 3 E., crosses behind fence.
Mary	Poor Wickens is not the only one who thinks I am a very ill-used young body. Now I don’t think so. Grandfather was rich, but he must have had a bad heart, or he never could have cast off poor mamma; had he adopted me, I should never have been so happy as I am now, uncle is kind to me in his pompous, patronizing way, and dear Florence loves me like a sister, and so I am happy. I am my own mistress here, and not anybody’s humble servant, I sometimes find myself singing as the birds do, because I can’t help it Song, “Maid with the Milking Pail,” can be introduced here.
	Enter Florence Trenchard* and Asa Trenchard through gate, R. 3 E.*
Florence Trenchard	Come along, cousin, come along. I want to introduce you to my little cousin. Kisses Mary. I’ve brought you a visitor, Miss Mary Meredith, Mr. Asa Trenchard, our American cousin. They shake hands. That will do for the present. This young gentleman has carried off the prize by three successive shots in the bull’s eye.
Mary	I congratulate you, sir, and am happy to see you.
Asa Trenchard	Shakes hands again. Thank you, Miss.
Florence Trenchard	That will do for a beginning.
Asa Trenchard	Aside. And so that is Mark Trenchard’s grandchild.
Mary	Why have you left the archery, Florence?
Florence Trenchard	Because, after Mr. Asa Trenchard’s display, I felt in no humor for shooting, and I have some very grave business with my cousin here.
Mary	You? Grave business? Why I thought you never had any graver business than being very pretty, very amiable, and very ready to be amused.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, Miss, I guess the first comes natural round these diggins. Bows.
Mary	You are very polite. This is my domain, sir, and I shall be happy to show you, that is, if you understand anything about a dairy.
Florence Trenchard	Yes, by the way, do you understand anything about dairies in America?
Asa Trenchard	Wal, I guess I do know something about cow juice. They turn to smother laugh. Why, if it ain’t all as bright and clean as a fresh washed shirt just off the clover, and is this all your doin’s, Miss?
Mary	Yes, sir, I milk the cows, set up the milk, superintend the churning and make the cheese.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, darn me if you ain’t the first raal right down useful gal I’ve seen on this side the pond.
Florence Trenchard	What’s that, sir? Do you want to make me jealous?
Asa Trenchard	Oh, no, you needn’t get your back up, you are the right sort too, but you must own you’re small potatoes, and few in a hill compared to a gal like that.
Florence Trenchard	I’m what?
Asa Trenchard	Small potatoes.
Florence Trenchard	Will you be kind enough to translate that for me, for I don’t understand American yet.
Asa Trenchard	Yes, I’ll put it in French for you, petite pommes des terres.
Florence Trenchard	Ah, it’s very clear now; but, cousin, do tell me what you mean by calling me small potatoes.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, you can sing and paint, and play on the pianner, and in your own particular circle you are some pumpkins.
Florence Trenchard	Some pumpkins, first I am small potatoes, and now I’m some pumpkins.
Asa Trenchard	But she, she can milk cows, set up the butter, make cheese, and, darn me, if them ain’t what I call raal downright feminine accomplishments.
Florence Trenchard	I do believe you are right cousin, so Mary do allow me to congratulate you upon not being small potatoes.
Mary	Well, I must look to my dairy or all my last week’s milk will be spoiled. Goodbye, Florence, dear. Goodbye, Mr. Trenchard. Good morning, sir. Exit into Cottage.
Asa Trenchard	Following her to door. Good morning, Miss. I’ll call again.
Florence Trenchard	Well, cousin, what do you think of her?
Asa Trenchard	Ain’t she a regular snorter?
Florence Trenchard	A what?
Asa Trenchard	Wal, perhaps I should make myself more intelligable, if I said, a squeeler, and to think I’m keepin’ that everlasting angel of a gal out of her fortune all along of this bit of paper here.Takes paper from pocket.
Florence Trenchard	What is that?
Asa Trenchard	Old Mark Trenchard’s will.
Florence Trenchard	Don’t show it to me, I don’t want to look at it, the fortune should have come to Mary, she is the only relation in the direct line.
Asa Trenchard	Say, cousin, you’ve not told her that darned property was left to me, have you?
Florence Trenchard	Do you think I had the heart to tell her of her misfortune?
Asa Trenchard	Wal, darn me, if you didn’t show your good sense at any rate. Goes up to dairy.
Florence Trenchard	Well, what are you doing, showing your good sense?
Asa Trenchard	Oh, you go long.
Florence Trenchard	Say, cousin, I guess I’ve got you on a string now, as I heard you say this morning.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, what if you have, didn’t I see you casting sheep’s eyes at that sailor man this morning? Ah, I reckon I’ve got you on a string now. Say, has he got that ship yet?
Florence Trenchard	No, he hasn’t, though I’ve used all my powers of persuasion with that Lord Dundreary, and his father has so much influence with the admiralty.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, din’t he drop like a smoked possum?
Florence Trenchard	There you go, more American. No, he said he was very sorry, but he couldn’t.
Asa Trenchard	Taking bottle out. Oh, he did, did he? Wal, I guess he’ll do his best all the same.
Florence Trenchard	I shall be missed at the archery grounds. Will you take me back?
Asa Trenchard	Like a streak of lightning. Offers arm and takes her to dairy.
Florence Trenchard	That’s not the way.
Asa Trenchard	No, of course not. Takes her round stage back to dairy.
Florence Trenchard	Well, but where are you going now?
Asa Trenchard	I was just going round. I say, cousin, don’t you think you could find your way back alone.
Florence Trenchard	Why, what do you want to do?
Asa Trenchard	Wal, I just wanted to see how they make cheese is this darned country. Exits into dairy.
Florence Trenchard	Laughing. And they call that man a savage; well, I only wish we had a few more such savages in England.
Lord Dundreary	Without, R. 2 E. This way, lovely sufferer.
Florence Trenchard	Ah, here’s Dundreary.
	Lord Dundreary enters with Georgina, places her in rustic chair, R.
Lord Dundreary	There, repothe yourself.
Georgina	Thank you, my lord; you are so kind to me, and I am so delicate.
Florence Trenchard	Yes, you look delicate, dear; how is she this morning, any better?
Lord Dundreary	When she recovers, she’ll be better.
Florence Trenchard	I’m afraid you don’t take good care of her, you are so rough.
Lord Dundreary	No, I’m not wruff, either. Sings. I’m gentle and I’m kind, I’m⁠—I forget the rest
Florence Trenchard	Well, good morning, dear⁠—do take care of her⁠—good day, Dundreary. Exit through gate.
Lord Dundreary	Now, let me administer to your wants. How would you like a roast chestnut?
Georgina	No, my lord, I’m too delicate.
Lord Dundreary	Well, then, a peanut; there is a great deal of nourishment in peanuts.
Georgina	No, thank you.
Lord Dundreary	Then what can I do for you?
Georgina	If you please, ask the dairy maid to let me have a seat in the dairy. I am afraid of the draft, here.
Lord Dundreary	Oh! you want to get out of the draft, do you? Well, you’re not the only one that wants to escape the draft. Is that the dairy on top of that stick? Points to pigeon house.
Georgina	No, my lord, that’s the pigeon house.
Lord Dundreary	What do they keep in pigeon houses? Oh! pigeons, to be sure; they couldn’t keep donkeys up there, could they? That’s the dairy, I suppothe?
Georgina	Yes, my lord.
Lord Dundreary	What do they keep in dairies?
Georgina	Eggs, milk, butter and cheese.
Lord Dundreary	What’s the name of that animal with a head on it? No, I don’t mean that, all animals have heads. I mean those animals with something growing out of their heads.
Georgina	A cow?
Lord Dundreary	A cow growing out of his head?
Georgina	No, no, horns.
Lord Dundreary	A cow! well, that accounts for the milk and butter; but I don’t see the eggs; cows don’t give eggs; then there’s the cheese⁠—do you like cheese?
Georgina	No, my lord.
Lord Dundreary	Does your brother like cheese?
Georgina	I have no brother. I’m so delicate.
Lord Dundreary	She’s so delicate, she hasn’t got a brother. Well, if you had a brother do you think he’d like cheese?
Georgina	I don’t know; do please take me to the dairy.
Lord Dundreary	Well, I will see if I can get you a broiled sardine. Exit into dairy.
Georgina	Jumps up. Oh! I’m so glad he’s gone. I am so dreadful hungry. I should like a plate of corn beef and cabbage, eggs and bacon, or a slice of cold ham and pickles.
Lord Dundreary	Outside. Thank you, thank you.
Georgina	Running back to seat. Here he comes. Oh! I am so delicate.
	Enter Lord Dundreary.
Lord Dundreary	I beg you pardon, Miss Georgina, but I find upon enquiry that cows don’t give sardines. But I’ve arranged it with the dairy maid so that you can have a seat by the window that overlooks the cow house and the pig sty, and all the pretty things.
Georgina	I’m afraid I’m very troublesome.
Lord Dundreary	Yes, you’re very troublesome, you are. No, I mean you’re a lovely sufferer, that’s the idea. They go up to cottage door.
	Enter Asa Trenchard, running against Lord Dundreary.
Lord Dundreary	There’s that damned rhinoceros again. Exit into cottage, with Georgina.
Asa Trenchard	There goes that benighted aristocrat and that little toad of a sick gal. Looks off. There he’s a settling her in a chair and covering her all over with shawls. Ah! it’s a caution, how these women do fix our flint for us. Here he comes. Takes out bottle. How are you, hair dye. Goes behind dairy.
	Enter Lord Dundreary.
Lord Dundreary	That lovely Georgina puts me in mind of that beautiful piece of poetry. Let me see how it goes. The rose is red, the violet’s blue. Asa Trenchard tips his hat over his eyes.
Lord Dundreary	Repeats.
Asa Trenchard	Repeats business.
Lord Dundreary	Comes down, takes off hat, looking in it. There must be something alive in that hat. Goes up, and commences again. The rose is red, the violet’s blue, sugar is sweet, and so is somebody, and so is somebody else.
	Asa Trenchard puts yoke on Lord Dundreary’s shoulders gently. Lord Dundreary comes down with pails.
Lord Dundreary	I wonder what the devil that is? Lowers one, then the other, they trip him up. Oh, I see, somebody has been fishing and caught a pail. Goes hopping upstage, stumbling over against spinning wheel. Looks at yarn on stick. Why, what a little old man. Sees Asa Trenchard. Say, Mr. Exile, what the devil is this?
Asa Trenchard	That is a steam engine, and will bust in about a minute.
Lord Dundreary	Well, I haven’t a minute to spare, so I’ll not wait till it busts. Crosses to R., knocks against private box, R. H., apologizes.
Asa Trenchard	Say, whiskers, I want to ask a favor of you.
Lord Dundreary	Attempts to sneeze. Now I’ve got it.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, but say. Lord Dundreary’s sneezing business.
Asa Trenchard	Takes his hand. How are you. Squeezes it.
Lord Dundreary	There, you’ve spoiled it.
Asa Trenchard	Spoiled what?
Lord Dundreary	Spoiled what! why a magnificent sneeze.
Asa Trenchard	Oh! was that what you was trying to get through you?
Lord Dundreary	Get through me: he’s mad.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, now, the naked truth is⁠—Leans arm on Lord Dundreary’s* shoulder. Business by Lord Dundreary.* Oh, come now, don’t be putting on airs. Say, do you know Lieutenant Vernon?
Lord Dundreary	Slightly.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, what do you think of him, on an average?
Lord Dundreary	Think of a man on an average?
Asa Trenchard	Wal, I think he’s a real hoss, and he wants a ship.
Lord Dundreary	Well if he’s a real hoss, he must want a carriage.
Asa Trenchard	Darn me, if that ain’t good.
Lord Dundreary	That’s good.
Asa Trenchard	Yes, that is good.
Lord Dundreary	Very good.
Asa Trenchard	Very good, indeed, for you.
Lord Dundreary	Now I’ve got it. Tries to sneeze.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, now, I say. Lord Dundreary trying to sneeze.
Asa Trenchard	What, are you at that again?
	Lord Dundreary business. Asa Trenchard bites his finger. Lord Dundreary goes up, stumbles against chair and comes down again.
Lord Dundreary	I’ve got the influenza.
Asa Trenchard	Got the what?
Lord Dundreary	He says I’ve got a wart. I’ve got the influenza.
Asa Trenchard	That’s it exactly. I want your influence, sir, to get that ship.
Lord Dundreary	That’s good.
Asa Trenchard	Yes, that’s good, ain’t it.
Lord Dundreary	Very good.
Asa Trenchard	Yes, darn me, if that ain’t good.
Lord Dundreary	For you. Ha! ha! One on that Yankee.
Asa Trenchard	Well done, Britisher. Wal, now, about that ship?
Lord Dundreary	I want all my influence, sir, for my own w⁠—w⁠—welations. Stammering.
Asa Trenchard	Oh! you want it for your own w⁠—w⁠—welations. Mimicing.
Lord Dundreary	I say, sir. Asa Trenchard pretends deafness. This business is ad lib.
Asa Trenchard	Eh?
Lord Dundreary	He’s hard of hearing, and thinks he’s in a balloon. Mister.
Asa Trenchard	Eh?
Lord Dundreary	He thinks he can hear with his nose. I say⁠—
Asa Trenchard	Eh?
	Lord Dundreary turns Asa Trenchard’s nose around with his thumb. Asa Trenchard puts his two hands up to Lord Dundreary’s.
Lord Dundreary	Now he thinks he’s a musical instrument. I say⁠—
Asa Trenchard	What?
Lord Dundreary	You stutter. I’ll give you a k⁠—k⁠—k⁠—
Asa Trenchard	No you won’t give me a kick.
Lord Dundreary	I’ll give you a c⁠—c⁠—card to a doctor and he’ll c⁠—c⁠—c⁠—
Asa Trenchard	No he won’t kick me, either.
Lord Dundreary	He’s idiotic. I don’t mean that, he’ll cure you.
Asa Trenchard	Same one that cured you?
Lord Dundreary	The same.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, if you’re cured I want to stay sick. He must be a mighty smart man.
Lord Dundreary	A very clever man, he is.
Asa Trenchard	Wal, darn me, if there ain’t a physiological change taking place. Your whiskers at this moment⁠—
Lord Dundreary	My whiskers!
Asa Trenchard	Yes, about the ends they’re as black as a niggers in billing time, and near the roots they’re all speckled and streaked.
Lord Dundreary	Horror struck. My whiskers speckled and streaked?
Asa Trenchard	Showing bottle. Now, this is a wonderful invention.
Lord Dundreary	My hair dye. My dear sir.
Asa Trenchard	Squeezing his hand. How are you?
Lord Dundreary	Dear Mr. Trenchard.
	Puts arm on shoulder. Asa Trenchard* repeats Lord Dundreary business, putting on eyeglass, hopping round the stage and stroking whiskers.*
Lord Dundreary	He’s mad, he’s deaf, he squints, stammers and he’s a hopper.
Asa Trenchard	Now, look here, you get the Lieutenant a ship and I’ll give you the bottle. It’s a fine swap.
Lord Dundreary	What the devil is a swap?
Asa Trenchard	Well, you give me the ship, and I’ll give you the bottle to boot.
Lord Dundreary	What do I want of your boots? I haven’t got a ship about me.
Asa Trenchard	You’d better make haste or your whiskers will be changed again. They’ll be a pea green in about a minute.
Lord Dundreary	Crosses to L. Pea green! Exits hastily into house.
Asa Trenchard	I guess I’ve got a ring in his nose now. I wonder how that sick gal is getting along? Wal, darn me, if the dying swallow ain’t pitching into ham and eggs and homemade bread, wal, she’s a walking into the fodder like a farmer arter a day’s work rail splitting. I’ll just give her a start. How de do, Miss, allow me to congratulate you on the return of your appetite. Georgina scream. Guess I’ve got a ring in her pretty nose now. Looks off, R. Hello! here comes the lickers and shooters, it’s about time I took my medicine, I reckon.
	Enter, from R. 2. E, Sir Edward Trenchard, Mrs. Mountchessington, Florence Trenchard, Harry Vernon, Augusta, Capt. De Boots, John Wickens, Mr. Coyle, Sharpe, Mr. Binny, Skillet, Mr. Buddicombe, two servants in livery, carrying tray and glasses, a wine basket containing four bottles to represent champagne, knife to cut strings, some powerful acid in one bottle for Asa Trenchard⁠—pop sure.
Sir Edward Trenchard	Now to distribute the prizes, and drink to the health of the winner of the golden arrow.
Florence Trenchard	And there must stand the hero of the day. Come, kneel down.
Asa Trenchard	Must I kneel down?
Florence Trenchard	I am going to crown you Captain of the Archers of Trenchard Manor.
Asa Trenchard	Aside to Florence Trenchard. I’ve got the ship.
Florence Trenchard	No; have you?
Sir Edward Trenchard	Come, ladies and gentlemen, take from me. Takes glasses, Starts on seeing men in livery. Who are these strange faces?
Mr. Coyle	In his ear. Bailiffs, Sir Edward.
Sir Edward Trenchard	Bailiffs! Florence I am lost.
	Florence Trenchard supports her father. At the same moment Lord Dundreary enters with letter and money. Georgina appears at dairy door as Lord Dundreary comes down, L. Asa Trenchard cuts string of bottle, cork hits Lord Dundreary. General commotion as drop descends.