822 , B856(3l DON'T LEND YOUR UMBRELLA BUCKINGHAM OF THE U N I VERS ITY or ILLINOIS 82.2. DOFT LEND YOUR UMBRELLA IN TWO ACTS BY LEICESTER BUCKINGHAM, Esq. AUTHOR OF Aggravating Sam — Do Shake Hands-^Belphegor Travestie — Take that Girl Away^ ^c. ^c. THOMAS HAILES LACY, 89, STAAND, (Opposite Southampton Street, Covent Gardm Market.) LONDON. DON^T LEND YOITB ITMBBELlA. — — Fir^t performed at the Strand Theatre^ On Monday y January 26, 1857. CHARACTERS. Adolphus Birdseye - Mr, Kinloch. Crotchet - - Mr. Herbert. Comfit - - Mr. J. B. Johnstone. Quill - - - Mr. J. Clarke, Brown - - Mr. James. Jones - • Mr. Edge. Robinson - - Mr. Richards, Miss Kate Percy. — E. Wilton. — Craven. — Yarnold. Mrs. Crochet, Julia Lucy Jane Time of representation one hour and a half. Period. — Present, Costumes. — Of the day. mm LEND TOUR UMBRELLA. ACT I. SCEi^E. — A Drawing Room. Boors c. R,, and l. Fireplace^ L. u. E. Window K. u. K. TaUe l. Lucy discovered arranging Tier hair before the chimney glass. Lucy. Well, thank goodness, IVe got an evening to myself at last, and long enough IVe waited for it too. However, the coast is quite clear now — missus is gone to see her aunt, and won't be back till late, and master's gone to Birmingham, so there's no chance of my being found out. If it was only a fine evening, now — but no, just my luck — it's raining cats and dogs ! No matter ♦ Fve made up my mind to go and have a walk with Tom^ and ^o I will, if I have to walk through a waterspout. Enter Mrs. Crotchet, c, with umbrella. J Mrs. C. What a frightful storm ! S Lucy, (turning round.) Lor', ma'am, is that you? What a ^ tiarn you gave me, to be sure. X;^ Mrs. C. Yes, and wet through from head to foot. My aunt was not at home, and on my way back I was caught in the ^ rain, without an umbrella, too. Lucy. But you've got one, ma'am Mrs. C. Yes ! one that I borrowed from a friend whom I met by a lucky chance. If it hadn't been for that, goodness knows how I should have got home at all. Lucy, (aside.) Was there ever such a horrid bore — when I thought I was sure of a merry evening. Mrs. C. But it seems to me that you've changed your dress since I left — surely you were not going out. Lucy. Lor', ma'am, what an idea — leave the house to take 4 don't lend your umbrella. Act 1 care of itself! You know I wouldn't think of such a thing not for all the world. Mrs C. So you say, but mind, be careful what you're about, you know how particular Mr. Crotchet is upon that point. Lucy. Oh yes, ma'am, I'm perfectly aware of master's nonsensical whims. Mrs. C. They are nothing of the kind, Lucy, they're simply reasonable precautions, and I beg that you will never think of neglecting them. Lucy. Of course not, ma'am, (aside.) Here's a predicament — and to think that Tom's waiting for me all this while round the corner. He'll be washed away. Mrs. C. (crosses l.) But I'm thoroughly drenched, sol may as well change my dress at once. Mind you're not out of the way, Lucy ; I'll ring for you, when I want you. Lucy, (aside.) Not a chance of getting out, even for half a minute. Mrs. C. Has anyone called since I went out? Lucy. Nobody but Mr. Quill, ma'am. He came about half hour ago. Mrs. C. Indeed ! Lucy. Yes, ma'am, and when I told him that master was- gone to Birmingham, he said so much the better, and that he would call again by-and-bye. Mrs. C. Ah ! Lucy. Yes, ma'am, and he said — Mrs. C. There, that will do. By-the-bye, you may as well take this umbrella to — Lucy, (aside,) Here's a chance — I shall get out at last (aloud.) Yes, ma'am to — Mrs. C. No, after all it doesn't matter. Lucy, (aside.) There ! I thought she'd say so ! It's just my luck. Mrs. C. (giving umhrella.) Put it in the hall and spread it out to dry — 1 can send it back to-morrow. Lucy. Very well, ma'am. Exit c. and l. Mrs. C. I must take it back myself; if she knew where I got it from, Heaven only knows what she might fancy. Enter Lucy, c. from l. Lucy. Y'ou're quite sure you don't want me to get anything for you, ma'am ; I'll run for it in a minute — I don't mind the rain a bit, I assure you, ma'am. Mrs. C. Thank you, I don't want anything, but mind you don't keep me waiting when I ring for you, that's all. Exit l. Sc. 1. don't lejtd your umbrella. 5 Lucy. There's some mystery about that umbrella, I'm certain, I wonder what it can be ? I'd give my eyes to find out, that I would, for if I could only get hold of anything queer about missus, we should see whether she'd refuse to let me go out, and make poor Tom catch his death of cold into the bargain. (goes and stilus Jire, Enter Chotchet, CyfromL. Crot. (aside.) It's lucky I came back ; I'm sure I heard a strange noise, (aloud.) Who. were you talking to, Lucy? Lucy. Lor', sir, is that you ? I thought you were half way to Birmingham by this time. Crot. I got to the station an hour and a half too soon ; they've changed the times ; last week I thought they'd changed them and they hadn't, so I was three quarters of an hour too late — bother the railways ! Lucy. Then you're not going, sir. Crot. Of course I am, but I couldn't wait an hour and a half at a railway station^and besides, I have come back for my cap. I hate travelling by night with a hat on. Give me my cap. (gives hat to Lucy.^ Lucy, (patting hat on chair., r. 2 e.) I'll fetch it directly, sir ! Crot. (aside.) I thought I might as well have another look about the premises, too ; one can't be too particular, (aloud.) But you haven't answered my question — who were you talking to when I came in ? Lucy. Talking to ? only to missus, sir. Crot. Don't attempt to deceive me, Lucy, you know very well that my wife is at her aunt's. Lucy. I'm sure she isn't, sir, for she was caught in the rain and came back as wet as she could be. She's just gone to her room to dress herself. Crot. Indeed ! I'm not surprised at it, for it's a frightful night, enough to make an honest citizen tremble in his night' cap. It's a horrible calamity, this rain. Lucy. Lor', sir, I've always heard say that it was so good for the vegetables. Crot. So it is, Lucy, in the day time, but at night it's good for burglars — think of that, Lucy, and highwaymen — think of that — and thieves, and incendiaries, and all manner of abomi- nations. Are you afraid of burglars, Lucy ? Lucy. Not a bit, sir ; I never was afiaid of anything in my life. Crot. To be sure ; it's only natural — you've got nothing but your character, and if you were robbed of that you wouldn't 6 don't lend your umbrella. Act 1. lose anything worth mentioning. Besides, you don't read the police reports. It's positively appalling to see what intermin- able catalogues of atrocities one finds in the papers every day, and although they catch scores of the scoundrels, it doesn't seem to produce the least effect. Upon my soul, I believe that if they were to imprison all the honest folks they'd find it the shortest plan. Lucy. They'll do that some day, I dare say, sir. Crot. Do you think so ? (aside ) That girl's even a greater fool than I took her for. (aloud.) Lucy ! Lucy. Yes, sir ! Crot. Duty calls me far from the domestic hearth, so be yigilant — sleep with one eye open. Lucy, Good gracious, sir, I'm sure I couldn't do it if I tried, Crot. Don^t be absurd, it's only a figurative expression, but keep a sharp look out, for if you don' take care you'll wake up some morning and find yourself murdered in your bed. (knocking without^ L. Lucy. There's somebody at the door, sir. Crot. It's very strange, at such a time of night. Lucy, (aside.) If it should be Mr. Quill come back, won't there be a precious row. Crot. Go and see who it is ; but mind you put up the chain before you open the door. Lucy. Yes, sir ! Exit Lucy, c, and l. Crot. One can't be too cautious, there are such crowds of malefactors about — I must move, there's not a doubt of it, for this house would frighten me into my grave in a twelvemonth. I'll throw myself into the arms of the police, and take a house in Scotlajad Yard. Enter Lucy, c.^from l. Lucy. It^s Mr. Comfit and his daughter, sir. Eiiter Comfit and Julia, c.yfrom i,. Crot. My dear old friend, I'm enchanted to see you, you're the last person in the world I should have expected — I thought you were miles away. Julia, my love, how d'ye do? (to Lucy.) Go and tell your mistress directly. Exit Lucy, l. Comfit. We only arrived this afternoon. Crot. And you've come to pay me a visit at ten o'clock at night ? How kind of you. Comfit. I couldn't think of going to bed without seeing you ; besides, I always sleep sounder after a chat with you. Crot, You overpower me, upon my word you do. Well, so Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 7 youVe been to the French exhibition — ^but you seem to have made a very short stay, after all. Comfit. I should have remained another month, for Julia, who is learning French, said that she was never so happy in her life, but an urgent motive called me home. Crot. Indeed ! what was it ? Comfit. Must I reveal it to you ? Crot. You're not obliged to, but you must. Comfit. Well, then, the motive was Birdseye. Crot. You don't say so. I. didn't know you were a smoker. Julia. Oh, papa don't mean that, Mr. Cl"otchet ; it^s the name of the gentleman he wants me to marry. Crot. And pray, who is Mr. Birdseye ? Comfit. He's an exceedingly charming young man, I assure you. J ULiA. Why you know you've never seen him, papa. Comfit. That's quite immaterial ; I've heard all about him^ and I've a presentiment that he's perfectly fascinating. Besides, he's very rich ; his father is an eminent importer of tobacco at Bristol, and owns whole acres of market gardens in the neigh- bourhood of London. Crot. What an odd combination ! Importer of tobacco, and market gardener. Comfit. 'Not at all, my dear friend ; he doesn't find the two occupations interfere with each other in the least ; on the contrary, they help each other amazingly. In short he's a splendid match. Enter Mrs. Crotchet, l. Mrs. C. My dear Mr. Comfit, this is indeed a pleasant sur- prise, and Julia, too. How kind of you to come and see us sO' soon ; but I think you were talking of a splendid match^ — may I ask for whom that precious rarity is destined ? Comfit. For my daughter. Mrs. C. Indeed! So you're really going to be married, my dear Julia ? Of course you love your intended to distraction ? Julia. I've never seen him, but I detest him with my whole heart and soul. Mrs. C. You don't say so ! and for what reason ? J ULIA. In the first place, I'm convinced that he's ugly. Crot. Ah, it's verv true, that beauty in the estimation of the fair sex — but then, on the other hand, ugliness has its advan- tages ; I don't mean that as a compliment to you. Comfit, but if one were carefully to calculate the benefits andinconveniencea of these two qualities it^s almost certain that — of course every- one will form his own opinion, but I'd lay half a crown — 8 BONT LEND YOUR UMBRELLA. Act L* Mrs. C. Take care my dear, you're getting yourself into a muddle. Crot. So I am, but it's a great pity, for I was going to say something very profound. Julia. AYell, youmay say what you please, but Tm sure he's not the husband I've dreamt of. Comfit. My child, no young lady should dream of her hus- band until she's married to him. Mrs. C. Of course nab ; but it's always just the contrary, as soon as she's married to him she never dreams of him at all. Ckot. There's no rule without exceptions, love, and I flatter myself that I'm one. Comfit. Well, it's getting very late, so we must be going, but I hope you'll both dine with us to-morrow. I expect Birdseye, so you must help me to do the honours. Crot. With pleasure ; I'm off to Birmingham to-night, but I shall be back to-morrow before dinner time. Comfit. No ceremony of course ; there will be no one but ourselves and Birdseye. Julia. And Mr. Quill, papa ! you've forgotten him, Crot. Quill? What, your bookkeeper ? Comfit. Very well, I don't mind, I'll invite him , it will be an excellent revenge. Mrs. C. a revenge ! Comfit. Yes, and one that he richly merits, too. Would you believe it, Mrs. Crotchet, this fellow, a mere subordinate^ presumes to aspire to the hand of my daughter — my daughtex' who is learning French, too. Julia. Well, papa, I'm sure it's an honourable ambition. Comfit. There, that'll do, don't plague me about him any more. Crot. (tafcing out his watch.) Bless me, it's five minutes past eleven and the train starts at a quarter past, I shall only just be in time. Julia. And it's raining as fast as ever. Crot. Fortunately the station is not far off. Comfit. And our cab is waiting for us at the door, so we won't keep you any longer. Good night ; remember, to-morrow at five precisely. Julia, (to Mrs. Crotchet.) Do come early, that's a dear, for I've such lots to tell you ; you can't think how miserable 1 am. Comfit. Come, Julia. Remember, at five precisely — good night. Exeunt Comfit and eluLiA, c, and l, Grot. Xow I'll be off to the station. I shan't be too early, this time, at any rate. Good bye, love ; mind that you see that Sc. 1. dou't lend your umbrella. 9 all the doors are locked, and bolted, and barred, and that the chain is up, and that the bells are put on all the shutters before you go to bed ; one can't be too particular, you know ; such horrible things are happening every day — good bye. Exit c. Mrs. C. Poor dear Julia, how on earth could she have suffered herself to be infatuated by that stupid Mr. Quill — a silly coxcomb who makes violent love to me, too. I must find come means of dispelling her illusions. I remember hearing of some love token, a pocket handkerchief or something of the sort, which she gave him before she went to Paris. If I could only manage to obtain it from him — Enter Lucy, l. Lucy. Your fire is burning up nicely now, ma'am. (knocking without^ l. u. e. Mrs. C. Another visitor ; who can it be at this hour ? No matter, I'm not at home to any one. Lucy. Suppose it should be Mr. Quill, ma'am ; he said he'd come back. Mrs. C. If it's Mr. Quill you may ask him to walk in. Lucy. Very well, ma'am, (aside.) I've a chance yet, for if he comes he's safe to stop an hour, and I shall be able to slip out without anybody knowing it, after all. Exit c. and l. Mrs. C. What a lucky chance, perhaps I may be able to secure this famous love token ; at any rate it's worth a trial. Exit L. Enter Lucy and Birdseye, c. from l. Lucy. This way, sir, walk in. Birds, (at door.) You're quite sure that it's here ? Lucy. Sure that what's here ? Birds. That the lady resides — Lucy. What lady ? Birds, (coming down.) The lady with a white bonnet, rather pretty ; I don't mean the bonnet, but the lady. Lucy. You mean Mrs. Crotchet. Birds. It's quite possible that I do, but I havn't the slightest idea. Lucy. Well, then ! Birds. Tell her that it's the gentleman come for the um- brella. Lucy. Oh it's yours, is it, sir ? Birds. Of course it's mine ; blue silk and nearly new ; I've come to fetch it — with an ivory handle. If you've got it give it to me directly. 10 don't lend your umbrella. Act 1. Lucy. I'll go and tell missus, sir. Exit l. Birds. Well, this is pleasant ! to be obliged to plunge into the recesses of Somers Town at this time of night in chace of an umbrella, when she promised to send it back directly. I've a strong suspicion that she never meant to send it back at all, for it's a very nice one — not one of your slim fashionable absurdities, like an elongated stick of black sealing wax with a tassel to it ; but an umbrella that's meant to be opened, blue silk with an ivory handle, too. I shouldn't care so much if it were mine, not that I'd let her keep it even then — but it isn't mine, that's the worst of it. I had been dining at Verey's this evening, and seeing that it was beginning to rain, I said to the waiter, Lend me an umbrella — you can send for it in ten minutes to my lodgings in Princes Street, Hanover Square, close by, and I'll give the man a shilling for his trouble." Ten minutes ! and that's more than three hours ago. But women are so horribly unscrupulous; they're charming creatures,, overflowing with refinement and delicacy, and good feeling, but unscrupulous to the last degree ; and I'm not in the humour to be gallant, just now, for I'm going to be married. Only think of that ; you wouldn't suspect it to look at me ; but I'm positively going to be married ; in fact I've come up to town from Bristol expressly to undergo the operation. To tell the honest truth this marriage causes me a good deal of uneasiness. Not that I'm frightened at matrimony ; oh, dear no ! but on account of my hair — I don't know whether you may have re- marked it, but it's rather a peculiar tint, not positively brown, nor chestnut, nor flaxen, but what they call a bright auburn, and I hear that my fair intended has a decided aversion to the colour. I shall be obliged to have it dyed before Vm intro- duced to her, for the sake of the first impression. Of course she'll find it out after we're married, but that doesn't matter, there are such lots of things one finds out then that one never guessed before. It's a pity, for I'm very fond of the tint my- self — it gives a warm tone to one's general appearance. Enter Lucy, l. Lucy. Missus' compliments, sir, and she begs you'll have the goodness to wait a few minutes, she'll see you the moment she's dressed. Birds. But I don't want to see her — I want my umbrella. Lucy. Oh ! you must talk to missus about that, sir, she'll be here directly. Exit r. Birds. She'll be here directly ! she said she would send my umbrella back directly, and that's more tha.. two hours ago. I wonder whether she means to keep me waiting as long. I don't half like the look of it. Who knows? perhaps she gets Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 11 her living by borrowing umbrellas, and selling them at half price on rainy nights in Leicester Square. After all, it's my fault — what business had I to lend a thing that doesn't belong to me ? I was walking tranquilly up Regent Street, on my way home, when I espied, standing for shelter under i^he portico of the church just above Yerey's, a pretty httle woman, very well dressed, but wet to the skin ; when I say wet to the skin, T pre • sume so, for I didn't examine. Well, without reflecting, I accosted the fair dame and ventured to suggest that I had a snug arm chair and a comfortable fire at home, very much at her service — she declined the offer very drily, considering how wet she was, but I managed to engage her in conversation, when suddenly she exclaimed in the most desponding manner — The rain has set in for the night, and there's not a cab to be seen. I shall never get home unless somebody lends me an umbrella." I offered her mine, she accepted — I gave her the umbrella and my address, and she tripped away, telling me that she lived only a few steps off, and that she would send it back directly. The moment she was gone I began to feel uneasy, so I rushed after her at full speed, followed her up Regent Street, down Oxford Street, up Tottenham Court Road, down the New Road, up Seymour Street, until at last she stopped at a house in the middle of Somer's Town ; she calls that a few steps — it's at the very least an eighteenpenny fare ! I inquired at the baker's, ascertained that she resided at the house in question, and then returned home, easy in my mind, but wet to my skin. I did examine this time, and was thoroughly convinced. Well, I waited nearly two hours and nobody came — yes, I forgot, the waiter from Verey's came three times to demand the umbrella and his shilling. At last my patience was at an end, so I rushed out, traversed the same cheerful route, and here I am, resolved to obtain my umbrella by all the means which gallantry forbids. I wonder whether she means to keep me here all night — I've half a mind to call for the poHce, only as I want them they would be sure not to come. Enter Mrs. Crotchet, l. Mrs. C. I beg a thousand pardons for having kept you waiting so long. May I inquire to what I am indebted for the honour ? Birds. What, is it possible that your servant didn't tell you ? and you don't recollect me ? Regent Street, under the portico — blue silk, with an ivory handle ? Mrs. C. Ah, to be sure, you are the gentleman to whose kindness I was so much indebted this evening ; I really did not recognise you. 12 don't lend your umbrella. Act 1. Birds, (aside.) I hope she'll recognize my claim to the umbrella. Mrs. C. But my dear sir, you seem to be perfectly drenched. Birds. Completely — I'm as wet as a submarine telegraph. Mrs. C. ^id it's all my fault, too ; pray sit down and warm yourself; the fire has burnt rather low, but that is easily remedied, (rings hell.) Birds. Don't put yourself out of the way on my account, I beg. I've been wet through so many hours that I'm quite used to it by this time, (aside.) That's a gentle hint ; she ought to blush if she has any conscience, but she hasn't — they none of them have a particle, (aloud.) So if you'll have the kindness to give me my umbreUa. Filter Lucy, r. Mrs. C. Oh, certainly, sir ; Lucy, give this gentleman the umbrella that is in the hall. Lucy. There's no umbrella in the hall, ma'am. Mrs. C. Nonsense, I mean the one I gave you just now. Birds. To be sure — blue silk with an ivory handle. Lucy. Master has taken it with him to the railway, ma'am ; he said he would send it back as soon as he got to the station. Mrs. C. Indeed ! well, I dare say it will be here directly. Lucy. If you would like me to go and fetch it, ma'am, I'll run in a minute, I don't care a bit for the rain. Mrs. C. Certainly not ; I would not have you go out on any account. Lucy, (aside.) There, I knew she wouldn't, though I offered to get drenched like a martyr, all for the sake of her rubbishy umbrella. I could cry my eyes out with vexation, that I could. Exit^ R, Birds. So now my umbrella has gone on an excursion to a railway station. Very pleasant, upon my word; I've half a mind to be angry. Mrs. C. Really, sir, I cannot forgive myself for having separated you even for a few hours from your darhng umbrella. If I had the slightest idea how devotedly you were attached to it, I wouldn't have accepted it for the world. Birds, (aside.) Upon my soul I believe she's laughing at me. Mrs. C, However, the sentiment does you honour, it proves that you are orderly and economical, and those are virtues rare enough in these degenerate days, Birds, (aside.) She's laughing at me, there's not a doubt of Sc, 1. don't lend your umbrella. 13 it. I'm getting into a towering passion. I'll explode, and risk the consequences, {aloud.) Madam. Mrs. C. Well, sir. Birds, (threateningly.) If you don't give me back my umbrella within ten minutes — Mrs. C. Well, what then ? Birds, (in a gentle tone.) You can send it to me to-morrow morning, and there'll be an end of the matter. Mrs. C. To be sure ; it's the simplest thing in the world. Birds, (aside.) It's no use.; one can't get into a passion with a pretty little woman like that. She's really very capti- vating, and if I were not going to be married — Enter Lucy with tea^ R, 2 e, Mrs. C. And while we are waiting for the umbrella, you will allow me to offer you a cup of tea. (pours out tea.) You see I don't stand upon ceremony. Birds. My dear madam, your kindness overpowers me. I accept with pleasure, (puts his hat on mantel-piece^ and takes cup from Mrs. Crotchet. Aside.) There's nothing on earth I wouldn't do for the sake of stopping with her. Lucy. If you please, ma'am, if you don't v/ant anything else, perhaps you'll have the kindness to let me go out for haif an hour ? Mrs. C. What ! go out at this time of night ? Not on any iiccount. If my husband knew that you even thought of such a thing, he wouldn't let you stop in the house another hour. Lucy. Very well, ma'am, I'll stop at home, (aside.) Don't you wish you may get it, that's all. Exit Lucy, c. Birds. You'll think me very inquisitive, I dare say, but I think you said, your husband. Is it possible that you're married ? Mrs. C. Certainly. Does that surprise you ? Birds. Oh dear, no 1 not at all — it's a complaint that's very prevalent. Mrs. C. But what is really surprising is, that my husband is everything that I could desire. Birds. You don't say so ! That's a symptom of the utmost rarity. Mrs. C. In fact, he has but a single fault. Birds. Ah ! he has a fault. I thought as much. Mrs. C. Yes, but only one, and that is a propensity to dis- cover something marvellous in the most commonplace occur- rences, and to be frightfully suspicious of everything and everybody. 14 don't lend your umbrella. Act 1» Birds. Indeed ! Well, if that's his only fault, it's lucky that he hasn't any more. Mrs. C. You can't imagine how suspicious he is. At this moment, for instance, you and I are enjoying a little innocent conversation — Birds. No doubt, excessively innocent, {aside.) That's it's only blemish. I\Irs. C. Well, if he were to come home unexpectedly, it would not be of the slightest use for me to tell him the history ef the umbrella ; he would look upon it as a pure invention ; and, as he is very hasty and violent — Birds. Oh, he's hasty and violent, is he ? Mrs. C. It's more than probable that, in the heat of the ]?iioment, he might- — (offering biscuits.') Will you take a biscuit? Birds, (rising hastily.) Thank you, but biscuits always dis- agree with me, and, as it's getting very late — Mrs. C. Don't be alarmed — my husband is out of town. Birds. Oh ! he's out of town, is he ? In that case I'll take a biscuit, with pleasure. (knocking without. Mrs. C. a visitor at this hour ! Who can it be ? Birds. If he should have come back unexpectedly ? Mrs. C. Oh, that's impossible. But, to avoid aU risk of an unpleasant meeting, if you will have the kindness to step into that room — (points to door^ r.) Birds, (going r.) If ever I lend an umbrella to anybody as long as I live — Exit Birdseye, r. Enter Lucy, c. from l. Lucy. It's Mr. Quill, ma'am, (aside.) Now she's safe for aa hour, so I'll run round the corner, and save Tom from a watery grave. Exit Lucy, c. Enter Quill, c. from l. Quill, (placing his hat on chair ^ l. of c. door^ as he enters.) I trust that I'm not disturbing you, my dear madam. Mrs. C. (sitting hy table.) Oh, dear no ! not at all ; but thi^ i§ rather a late hour for a visit, Mr. Quill. Quii.L. l^es, I'm aware that it's rather late, in fact I may say very late, but then I've been here before this evening ; I called more than an hour ago, with the chocolate you ordered at our shop to-day. Mrs. C. Indeed ! But you need not have troubled yourself to return. Why didn't you leave it with Lucy ? Quill. I might have done so, no doubt, but as Lucy hap- pened to mention that Mr. Crotchet was out of towp, I thought Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 15 I might as well avail myself of such a propitious circimistance, to deliver it into your own fair hands. (gives her a parcel in a handkerchief, which he holds hy the four corners. Mrs. C. (rising.) You're really too obliging ; but now that you have delivered it, perhaps you will allow me to — (going to ring hell. Quill, (retraining her.) Cruel Arabella! you know very well that I didn't come here merely to bring you a parcel of chocolate. Mrs. C. (takes parcel out of handkerchief and puts it on the iahle.) What an awkward situation — with that young man in the next room. If he should overhear us, what in the world will he think of me. Quill. You know how tenderly, how devotedly I adore you. Enter Birdseye, r., unperceived hy them. Birds. I've forgotten my hat. (sees Quill.) Eh? I wonder who this can be. (hides hehind an arm chair.) Quill. I'm sure I've told you so over and over again, and you don't seem to believe me the least in the world. Mrs. C. (examining the handkerchief.) What a pretty hand- kerchief, and embroidered too. Upon my word, you gentlemen are getting terribly coquettish. Birds, (aside.) If it should be the husband — what a nice predicament I shaU be in. Mrs. C. (aside — examining the handkerchief.) It's Julia's — what a lucky chance, (aloud — giving handkerchief to Quill.) It's really very pretty. Quill. So it is, and I got it cheap, too. Mrs. C. Of course ; it was a present from a lady, that's very evident. Quill. Nothing of the sort, I pledge you my — Mrs. C. There, don't perjure yourself — that name worked, in the corner is a stronger proof than all your protestation. Quill, (examining handkerchief.) You really think there's a name in the corner ? Perhaps it's mine. Mrs. C. Yours, indeed, (pointing to corner of handkerchief) Look there, " Julia ; " is your name Julia ? Quill. Well, no, I believe not. Mrs. C. You see, it's the old story, you men are all alike, you persecute me with your attentions, you tell me that you love me. Quill. Love you ? I adore you. Birds, (aside.) My mind's at ease. It's not the husband, that's clear. 16 don't lend your umbrella. Act 1 . Mrs. C. I don't believe a word of it, for if I were to ask you for the smallest proof of your affection — Quill. Do you want me to embrace you ? I'll do it on the spot. Mrs. C. No, it isn't that^ but I know you'll think it a strange fancy. Quill. Never mind, I'm not at all particular. Birds, (aside.) She's going to ask him for a lock of his hair. What frightful depravity, (hides behind chair.) Mrs. C. Well, then, give me that handkerchief. Quill. That handkerchief ! Mrs. C. There, you see, you hesitate. Quill. Not the least in the world — I couldn't refuse you anything, (gives it.) Mrs. C. (aside.) Now, Mr. Quill, you shall pay the penalty for having two strings to your how. Quill, (aside.) It's a precious bore ; but no matter, I'll inanage to get it back again somehow, (aloud.) Now, that I've granted your request, of course you won't refuse to bestow upon !rae the reward of my obedience? Mrs. C. You must be obliging enough to give me credit. Quill. Well, but at anyrate you'll let me have something on account ! Mrs. C. Oh dear, no ! I couldn't think of such a thing. Quill. One kiss? Mrs. C. Mr. Quill! Quill. Upon that lily hand. Mrs. C. Well, there's not much harm in that. (Quill kisses her hand.) Birds, (aside.) Eh ! what's that ? I thought I heard — (Quill kisses Mrs. Crotchet's hand.) Oh ! it's positively indecent, (hides.) Mrs. C. And now, as it's getting very late, perhaps you'll allow me to wish you good evening, (crosses to r.) Quill. Certainly, of course ; I wouldn't think of intruding. Good evening, (aside — taking Birdseye^s hat from mantelpiece.) I don't know how it is, but I don't seem to be getting on very fast. However, slow and sure they say. (aloud.) Good even- ing. JExit c. and l Birds, (going to door, c.) Here, stop, I say! He's got my hat. Mrs. C. What, you were there, sir? I really hadn't the slightest idea. However, you must have seen that I got rid of my visitor as soon as I possibly could — and as it is nearly midnight — Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 17 Birds. Midnight, indeed ! what does that matter ? It's a ©harming hour. Mrs. C. As for your umbrella, you may rest assured that the first thing to-morrow morning — Birds. Hang the umbrella. I don't care a farthing for all the umbrellas in the world. Mrs. C. Really I don't understand — Birds. I don't care for anything, but the sparkle of your bright eyes, bewitching little syren, (piits his arm round her ivaist.) Mrs. C. Sir1 Birds. Suppose we have a bowl of punch to begin with, eh? Mrs. C. I trust you do not mean to insult me, sir ! Birds. Insult you? not for the world! but I was labouring under a delusion, now I'm undeceived, so let us make up for lost time and spend a jolly evening. You won't object to my lighting a cigar, (puts his arm round her waist.) Mrs. C. (struggling with him.) Enough of this, sir, I can forgive a pleasantry, but this passes all bounds, and if you per^ sist in such conduct— Birds. Well, what then? Of course you'll make a gentle resistance, just to save appearances — struggle violently for half a minute — sink on the sofa bathed in tears, and overpowered by the conviction of your own weakness, fling yourself at my feet and sob forth piteous supplications ; and then, having gone through the established ceremonial, you'U dry your eyes and be as merry as a cricket for the rest of the evening. You see, I have the entire routine at my fingers ends ; but you may as well save yourself the trouble, for I've been behind the scenes, you know ; I was a witness to the interview just now, so you havn't the slightest chance of deceiving me. Mrs. C. (stamping her foot.) Once for all, sir, will you leave the house ? Birds. Leave the house ? Of course not ; but go on, you havn't an idea how pretty you look when you pretend to be m a passion. Mrs. C. If you don't go directly I shall send for the police. Birds. You don't mean to say that you are in earnest? What an absurd idea, when we are so snug and comfortable, and your husband is scores of miles away, (loud knocking ivithout.) Crotchet, (without.) Lucy, come and open the door, the chain is up. Mrs. C. Heavens ! my husband's voice. Birds. Your husband ? Nonsense, he's at the other end of the world. 18 DONT LEND YOUR UMBRELLA. Act L Crotchet, (without.) Lucy ! Lucy ! Mrs. C. I tell you, it's his voice. Birds. Well, suppose it is, never mind. Don't pay th^. slightest attention to him — that's the simplest plan, and it'* followed in the best society. Mrs. C. For mercy's sake, go—this instant, I implore you. Birds. It's very easy to say go ; but how am I to get out, when your husband is at the street door ? Suppose I were t© stay here, and tell him that I'm the tax-gatherer— ^on't you think he'd be satisfied ? Mrs. C. The tax-gatherer at midnight ! you must be mad. {opens door r. 2 e.) This w^ay — there is a back staircase — quick ! (gives him Crotcheth hat from chair., r. 2 e.) I'll run and open the door to Mr. Crotchet, and Lucy will let you out by the area gate. Exit c, and l. Birds. Don't alarm yourself, I won't lose a minute, (looks through door^ r, 2 e.) It's frightfully dark, I know I shall break my neck on that confounded back staircase. If I ever lend an umbrella to anybody again — Exit^ r. 2 e. Eiiter Crotchet with umhrella^ andM.B.s, Crotchet, c. from l. Crot. What an enormous time you've kept me waiting at the door ; I began to fancy that you must have been murdered in your beds. Mrs. C. (laughing.) Not quite so bad as that, my dear, but you see, we had not the slightest idea that you would come back to-night. So you didn't catch the train after all ? Crot. ]?o ! but I've caught a frightful cold, standing inside there, in the rain. I was just three seconds too late, think of that, only three seconds — bother the railways. Mrs. C. I am so sorry that you should have had to knock so often, but I was just going to bed, and of course I couldn't come down till I had dressed myself. Crot. That's very true. But gracious me, the fire is burn- ing quite brightly ; how very imprudent not to throw up the ashes before you went to bedi — you don't know what the conse- quences might be. A spark flies out — the hearthrug catches fire — that ignites the floor— -the house is burnt to the ground, and a whole parish is involved in one tremendous conflagration. If I hadn't happened to come home, all London might have been in flames before morning. Mrs. C. It was an oversight, that's all. Crot. An oversight, indeed ! (looking at table.) So I see you've had a visitor ; there are two cups and saucerSv Mrs. C. It was only Mr. QuilL. Crot. Mr. Quill! ahl Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. Mrs. C. May I enquire the meaning of that, '^^ Ah ? " ' Crot. It's only an expression of surprise, nothing mor®. Everybody says, Ah! " when they are surprised, unless ther prefer saying Oh ! " It all depends upon which university they belong to. (opens umbrella and places it on floor ^ c.) Mrs. C. What ! you're spreading out the umbrella to dry m the drawing room ! Crot. Oh ! it's nearly dry already. By the bye, I didn't know that you possessed a blue silk umbrella with an ivory handle. Mrs. C. Very likely not, for it isn't mine. Crot. Indeed ! then whose is it ? Mrs. C. I'm sure I don't know, most probably some one has. left it behind them by mistake. Crot. It can't be Comfit's, for he came in a cab— nor Quill's, for he has called since I left. Mrs. C. What does it matter to you, who's it is ? I'm sur^is it isn't worth while troubling your head about it. Crot. What if it should belong to some acquaintance of Lucy's ? That girl is getting terribly coquettish of late, her caps are a great deal too pretty for a maid of all work in quiet family. There's nothing more probable than that she possesses some admirer whose means enable him to indulge iu the luxury of a blue silk umbrella with an ivory handle. Mrs. C. You are so dreadfully suspicious. Crot. But I've another cause for my misgivings, for just now when I was on my way from th,e station I espied a damsel^ the very image of our domestic, walking along the street, arnx in arm with a young man; I'm certain it must have been Lucy. I'll go this very instant and satisfy myself, {goes to door^ R. U. E.) Mrs. C. (retaining him.) What an absurd idea ! She had not left the room five minutes when you arrived. Crot. Oh ! of course in that case I must be mistaken ; but I could have taken my oath it was her physiognomy. It's very odd ; however, of course I'm satisfied, so we'll, say no more about it. It's getting very late, and I'm sure you must bo terribly tired, my dear. Mrs. C. Oh ! I've been three parts asleep for the last half hour, and you ? Crot. I'm as sleepy as prudence will permit, for one should always sleep with one eye open in these dreadful times, (yawn-' ing.) I shan't be sorry to get to bed, though, upon my word ; but I must not forget my cold bath ; it will prevent my catching cold. Everything is bolted and barred down stairs, so we have only to lock these doors (locks doors c.) and now we are secure ; 20 don't lend your umbrella. Act 1, as secure as anybody can be in these horrible days. There, g© to bed, my dear, I shan't be long. Exit Crotchet with candle^ Mrs. C. I only hope that Lucy has let that young man out — it was the only means of safety ; but what in the world will she think of me ? Well ! I've made up my mind to one thing, if I'm caught in the rain a thousand times, I'll never borrow an umbrella^ again as long as I live. Exit Mrs. Crotchet, l., with candle — stage dark. Enter Birdseye, r. 2 e. Birds. What a confounded labyrinth of a house— nothing but narrow staircases and crooked passages, all swarming with black beetles, and as dark as pitch ! I can't catch a glimpse of the servant who was to let n^e out by the area gate. Upon my soul, I don't believe they keep a servant — they have a charwoman by the day once or twice a week, I'm convinced of it. And this horrible hat keeps slipping down over my nosQ every minute ; I might as well be blindfolded, like Ali Baba in the Forty Thieves, {stumbles against umbrella.) Eh? what the deuce is that? (takes it up.) An umbrella! (feels the handle.) And with an ivory handle, too ; it's mine, or rather, it's my umbrella that isn't mine — but it's all the same — I've got it at last, (shuts umbrella and puts it under his arm.) I should like to see anybody ask me to lend it to them now, I'd rather make them a present of my head, Kow, if I can only find the way the street door. (feels along the wall till he reaches the door r., which opens outwards on the stage^ so that he is hidden behind the door as it opens. Enter Crotchet, r., in a dressing- goivn and nightcap, with lighted candle in his hand. Crot. Upon second thoughts, I didn't much hke the idea of the cold bath ; I've had one already to-day, in the rain, and I don't care about repeating the dose, so I'll just make a quiet round of inspection,before I turn in. I can't help thinking that there's something wrong about Lucy ; that girl I saw in the street was so marvellously like her ; at any rate, I'll make sure that she's at home, and set my mind at ease. Exit Crotchet, r. 2 e. Stage dark. Birds, (coming from behind door, r.) Confound the fellow, he's cut off my retreat. So that's the husband, is it ? He's a nice compound of rheumatism and wrinkles to be the spouse of such a charming young creature ; but women have no taste — not a particle. He looks muscular, though, that is to say, Sc. 1 . don't lend your umbrella. 2i muscular for a Londoner, and I rather fancy if we were to come to extremities — I don't half like the idea, for I've a horror of pugilistic encounters, and to think that there isn't a corner to hide myself in. What a fool I was not to go to bed this evening at seven o'clock. {feels along the wall; as he sjyeaks he reaches the doori..^ which opens inivards — he pushes it and stumbles through it. Exit l. Enter Crotchet, r. u. e., with candle. Crot. It's just as I suspected ; Lucy is not in her room — my eyes did not deceive me when I fancied I saw her Avalking along the street, arm-in-arm with a man, some housebreaker^ no doubt ; perhaps the captain of a band of burglars. My wife is sound asleep by this time, I dare say ; but no matter, I must wake her ; if we don't keep watch to-night we shall have our throats cut before morning, (goes to doori.. and drops his candle^ stick in horror. Stage dark.) There's a man in the room. Help ! murder ! thieves ! Enter Birdseye, hastily., l. Birds. Hush ! don't make such an infernal row. Crot. (trying to find him in the dark.) Ah, brigand, you can't escape me now ; I've seen you. I can swear to you , you've got red hair. Keep off, scoundrel — I'm armed, armed to the teeth with blunderbuses and revolvers. Birds, (opening umbrella and sheltering himself behind it.} Don't fire ; I'll go away quietly — I don't want to stay. Crot. (seizing the point of the umbrella.) I'm not afraid of you, assassin — where are you ? Let me get at you. Birds, (pursued by Crotchet.) Open the door, I tell you, and let me go. Crot. Not till I've slaughtered you, miscreant. Birds, (finding himself near the window.) Ah ! thank good- ness ! here's a window at last. Good bye, old fellow ! (jumps through window.) Crot. He's gone! the scoundrel has escaped, (runs to window and shouts.) Help! murder! fire! police! stop thief! Oh! I'm very poorly, oh ! (falls into an arm chair.) END of act first. 22 DON*T LEND YOUR UMBRELLA. Act 2. ACT II. SCENE. — A Drawing Room. Doors c, R., and l. — Piano L., Table r. Julia discovered seated by piano* Julia. What in the world can have become of Mr. Quill ? I^apa has been asking for him ever so many times this morning, ^nd I can't find him anywhere, and Jane has been to his lodgings and brought back word that he hasn't been home since yesterday afternoon. Fortunately papa didn't hear that^ though, or goodness knows what he would have thought ; he has such a terrible prejudice against that poor young man ; it's all because he is not rich, I'm certain, and it's a shame to blame him for that, for he has told me over and over again that he would be very rich, indeed, if he knew how Dear, darhng little fellow ! I love him better than if he had all the gold in the Bank of England, that I do. Enter Quill, c, pale^ with a black eye^ and his dress rather disordered. Quill. Well, I'm safely out of that scrape, at last, thank goodness ! J ULiA. So, sir, you have made your appearance at last. But good gracious ! what a state you are in. What in the world have you been about? (rises.) QuiLL. Ah ! Miss Julia, if you could only form an idea of the horrible scenes that I have passed through since yesterday evening ; there was never anything heard of like it, not even in a tale in Reynolds's Miscellany. But never mind that, we've f^omething much more important to talk about. Mr. Birdseye is expected every minute. Julia. I know it, and I'm not at all delighted at the prospect, I can assure you. Quill. JuHa, I should be the last person in the world to advise you to disobey your father, but if I were in your place nothing on earth should induce me to obey him. Julia. Ah ! it's all very easy to say that ; but how can I help myself? If papa has made up his mind to my marrying Mr. Birdseye, I know very well that I shall have to marry him whether I like it or not. Quill, Appeal to his compassion ; tell him that this marriage Sc. 1. don't lend youk umbrella. 23 will bring your grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. No, you can't very well say that, but tell him that it will consign you to an early tomb, that's better — then, perhaps, he may relent and change his mind. Julia. Ah, I see ! you don't half know papa. When he once takes a thing into his head, nothing in the world will drive it out. Quill. I shouldn't wonder, now, if he were horribly ugly. Julia. I know he is, for one of my old schoolfellows lives ^t Bristol, and has seen him very often, and she has written to me all about him. Only fancy, he's got red hair. Quill. Oh, that's a very trifling defect. Julia. Trifling, indeed ! on the contrary, it's of immense importance — I can't endure red hair. Quill. But suppose that mine were red, Julia, What's the use of supposing such a thing when it's nothing of the sort. Quill, (aside. y If she only knew, (aloud.) Well, never mind, we shall be sure to find some meams of getting rid of this troublesome intruder. I'd call him out at once if I could only be sure of hitting him at the first shot. Julia. In mercy's sake don't do anything imprudent. Besides, you know he might hit you — you might be wounded, killed, perhaps. Quill. That's very true ; I'll try some other plan. J ULiA. By the bye, talking of wounds, is that cut on your hand quite healed yet ? Quill. Oh, yes, thank you, perfectly healed. Julia. Then, in that case, perhaps you'll have the kindness to give me back the handkerchief I lent you to bind it up. Quill, (confused.) The handkerchief? Julia. To be sure ; I hope you have not lost it ? Quill. Lost it ! can you tliink it possible ? But don't ask me for it. Ask me for my head, my life, my anything else you please — you shall have it with pleasure ; but don't ask me to give you back that handkerchief. Comfit, (ivithout.) Oh, he's in the drawing room, Is he? very good. fluLiA. That's papa's voice, (goes to piano and sits.) Quill. The governor ! I'm likely to have rather a pleasant time of it. Enter Comfit, l. Comfit, So you've really come to business at last, have you, sir — very pretty conduct upon my word. Quill, I'm disgusted sit you — you're a disgrace to a respectable establishment. 24 don't lend your umbrella. Act 2 Quill, If you'll allow me to explain, sir ! Julia. Don't be too hard upon him, there's a dear good fapa ! Comfit. Don't interfere with business, child. When you have heard the history of his disgraceful conduct last night — Julia. But what as he done, papa? Comfit. That's just what I want to know. Quill. Oh! there's no secret about it. I was locked up all night in the station house. Comfit. There, I told you so. Didn't I say that he was a disgrace to a respectable estabhshment ? Quill. But I was locked up by mistake, instead of some- body else. Comfit. What a preposterous invention. Quill. I wish you'd let me explain myself ! I shall never be able to tell you the whole story if you go on interrupting me in that way. Comfit. Well, go on ! I don't believe a word of it ; but go on ! Quill. Last night, just at the moment when the suburban chimes were peahng forth the mystic hours of twelve, I was standing under a shed in Somers Town— Comfit. What were you standing under a shed for ? Quill. Because it was raining. Comfit. But you've got an umbrella. Quill. I had one, but I've Ipst it ; or rather, I think I've left it somewhere ; I'll go and see after it by and bye, Comfit. Well, never mind the umbrella ! go on. Quill. Suddenly a piercing shriek broke upon the stillness of the midnight air, and stentorian shouts of ''stop thief I " made the silent echoes reverberate with hideous din. Swift ais the lightning flash a human form flitted by me in the darkness. What could it be ? I asked myself as calmly as my excited feelings would permit, where could it be ? Perhaps some vile incendiary whose felon hand had enveloped slumbering innocents in a blazing shroud. Perhaps a bank director absconding with the till ; perhaps — Comfit. Fiddlededee ! I dare say it was only a linendraper's shopman out later than he expected. Quill. I rushed after him with the speed of thought — I pounced upon him ferociously as a famished tiger, under an adjacent lamp-post He asked me what I meant by it, with his right, I explained my motive, with my left, and here's his j-eply. (points to his eye.) Julia. Good gracious ! what a frightful bruise. Comfit. Well, what then ? Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 25 Quill. Why then, as I found that things were getting rather too warm for me, I called police, and immediately the police arrived. Comfit. You don^'i say so ! That's a very remarkable occur- rence. Quill. Yes ! and then, what do you think the rascal did ? Comfit. I haven't the slightest idea — perhaps picked ypur pocket and ran away. Quill. Nothing of the sort ; he had the assurance to assert that I was the thief, and that it was he that had captured me, and the policeman, with the sagacity common to his profession, believed the scoundrel, and locked me up, in spite of all my protestations. Comfit. I believe that it's a pure invention from beginning to end. Quill. It's true, every word of it. You may go to the station house and ask the inspector, if you don't believe me. The moment he saw me this morning, he recognised me — he's a customer of ours — bought some chocolate at our shop only last week. CoMEiT. Indeed ! did he find it to his liking ! Quill. I should fancy he did, for he set me at liberty on the spot, (looks mechanically at his hat^ which he holds in his hand.) Eh ? what's this ? a spring hat ! I suppose I must have changed it at the station by mistake. Well, it doesn't matter, for it seems a very good one. (puts hat on chair^ r^) Eiiter Jane, c. Jane. If you please, sir, there's a gentleman down stairs, who wants to see you. Comfit. Indeed! who is it? Jane. He said I was to tell you it was Mr. Birdseye, sir. Julia, (aside.) Arrived already ! how annoying. Comfit. Birdseye! I'm delighted ! Shew him up directly. Exit Jane, c. Quill, (aside.) Plague take the fellow ; but I'll find some means of getting rid of him. Comfit. We will resume this conversation some other time, Mr. Quill ; for the present, have the goodness to attend to business, and take my advice, don't stand under sheds any more at half past twelve o'clock in Somer's Town. Quill. Very good, sir. (aside.) If I don't settle that fellow Pirdseye's business in double quick time, my name's not Quill, that's all. (kisses his hand to Julia, iinperceived by Comfit. Exit Quill, l. 26 don't lend your umbuella. Act 2. Comfit. Now, my child, go and dress for dinner, and remember that this is a solemn occasion ; make yourself as pretty as you can. Julia. Yes, papa, (aside.) I'll go and put on my ugliest frock, and brush every particle of curl out of my hair, that I will. Exit K. Comfit. There, now, I'll stake my existence that the silly girl thinks herself barbarously persecuted, and cruelly illused. Talk of the pleasure of being a father, why, it's easier to drive four in hand down Fleet Street at full gallop without an accident, than to manage one daughter any day, that it is. Enter Birdseye, c, with black wig and a hat much too large for him. Birds, Mr. Comfit, I presume. Comfit. Enchanted to see you, my dear young friend. Permit me to welcome you with pride and pleasure to my hum- ble roof. Birds. Y^ou're very obliging — how d'ye do ? Comfit, (aside.) He's a very good looking young fellow, upon my word, and Julia was certain that he was ugly— She'll be agreeably disappointed. Birds, (aside^ putting his hat on the piano.) This horrible machine has been slipping down over my eyes all the way. I meant to have got a new one on the road, but I found I had only half-a-crown in my pocket. It's just like me — I'm always getting into some such agreeable predicaments. Comfit. You can't imagine how glad I am to see you. I was beginning to be afraid you wouldn't come to-day. Birds. I know I'm rather late, but it wasn't my fault ; I had some important business to transact, (aside.) At the hair- dressers, (aloud.) You can see that I haven't lost a moment, for I've walked so fast that I'm in a perfect bath. Comfit. So you are — your hair is quite damp. Birds, (aside., walking up and down.) The deuce it is ; I hope the colour won't run. (limps across.) Comfit. You havn't hurt yourself, I hope ; you're limping horribly. Birds. You think so ? Well, the fact of the matter is, you see, I've got new boots on ; but upon my word I'm frightfully remiss, I have not inquired after your charming daughter. I'm all impatience to see her, for I've heard such glowing accounts of her. Comfit. Nothing more than she deserves, my dear sir ; she is quite a little treasure, I assure you. She's learning French. Sc. 1. don't LEm) fOXJR UMBBELLA. 27 Birds. What now, at this very moment ? Comfit. No, just now she's tidying herself. Birds, (aside,) Tidying herself ; he talks like a housemaid. Comfit. She won't be long ; and in the meantime, suppose you tell me all the news about your family. The Birdseye's are all pretty well, I hope ? Birds, Of course, nobody is ever ill in the country ; we're not like you poor Londoners, always ailing and physicing, we're hearty, and vigorous, and healthy — Comfit. Youll excuse me for interrupting you, but I think people die in the country sometimes, don't they ? Birds. Well, I believe they do now and then, but they need not if they didn't like ; when such a thing does happen, it's merely an oversight, nothing more. But I must not forget my commissions ; I'm charged with a whole budget of letters for you. (gives letters.) Comfit, (opening letters.) You'll excuse me, my dear sir ? Birds. By all means, make yourself perfectly at home. (crosses^ L., and sits.) Comfit. Upon my word, you really limp frightfully. Birds. It's aU owing to my new boots ; they'll be stretched as soon as I've worn them a. few hours. Comfit, (aside.) It's all very well to say that it's his boots, but I don't half like the looks of it. I am afraid I shall have a son-in-law with a damaged leg. (sits and reads letters.) Birds. Limp, indeed ! I should like to know who wouldn't limp, after jumping in the dark from a first floor window, full eighteen feet from the ground ; but what else could I do — when that infuriated old Crotchet was screaming " Police " at the top of his lungs, hke a man bewitched. And that other maniac, too, the fellow who sprang upon me like a mad bull, as soon as I reached the ground, and wanted to give me in charge upon the spot. I made short work work of him, though, lodged him quietly in the station house, in spite of his giving his name and address, and offering to send for any number of witnesses to vouch for his respectability, and left him to meditate on his folly in the society of four stone walls and a wooden bench till morning. There's one Londoner that has found me too much for him, at any rate ; and I'll answer for it, that Mr. Quill will think twice before he tries to arrest anybody in the streets in the middle of the night again. Comfit, (rises.) They all speak of you in the most flatter- ing terms ; not that you needed any recommendation, my dear Adolphus — I'll call you Adolphus, if you've no objection ? Birds. You like it better than Birdseye ? Comfit. AVell, to tell the truth, I think I do. 28 doi^'t lend your umbrella. Act 2. Birds. As you please, it's quite immaterial to me. What's your Christian name. Comfit. Mine is Nicodemus. Birds. Well, then, if you call me Adolphus, I shall call yoil Nicodciiius. Comfit. With all my heart. Birds. Call me Dolly, if you like, I'll call you Nick. Comfit. Ha, ha, ha ! that's a droll idea. Worthy Dolly. Birds. Ha, ha, ha ! Estimable old Nick. Comfit. Ha, ha, ha ! {aside.) He's a funny fellow. I shall have a funny son-in-law. Crotchet, {witliout.') He's in the drawing-room, is he? Very well, I'll go to him. Comfit. That's Crotchet's voice ; I'm glad he's come. Birds, {startled,') Eh — what's that you said. Crotchet ? Comfit. Yes, he's one of my oldest friends ; I shall be delighted to introduce you to him. Birds, {aside.) Mier all it may not be the same. There must be more than one Crotchet in the world. jEJw^er Crotchet, c, with umbrella^ and hat much too small for him. Crot. (l.) Ha, here he is. WeU, how d'ye do. I'm afraid we're rather late. Comfit, (c, shaking hands with Crotchet.) You're in capital time. I'ln delighted to see you. Birds, (r., aside.) It's the identical Crotchet. He's got my blue silk umbrella, {turns his hack to Crotchet.) Crot. ( to Comfit.) I beg your pardon, I did'nt know you were engaged. Comfit. Not at all ; it's only Birdseye, my future son-in- law, you know. Crot. Ah, indeed. He seems a very good looking young man, as far as one can judge from the back of his head. Birds, {aside.) After all, he caught such a hasty glimpse, it's ten to one if he recognises me. Comfit Allow me to introduce you — Mr. Crotchet, Mr. Adolphus Birdseye. Crot. {crosses to Birdseye.) My dear sir, I'm delighted — {recognisijig him.) Heavens ! Birds, {aside.) The devil — I'm in for it. Crot. (aside.) No, it isn't possible ! it must be an illusion. {aloud to Birdseye.) I'm delighted to have the honour of — {aside.) Yes, there's not a doubt of it ! it's the very man ! the same face, the same figure ; its only the colour of the hair that bothers me. Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 29 Birds, (aside.) It's all over with me. I'd give a trifle to be this moment in the ball of St. Paul's. Crot. (aside.) Perhaps he may have a brother, a twin brother, the precise image of himself in everything but the hair. I'll proceed with caution — it Avon't do to be too rash. (aloud to BiRDSEYE.) AVill you permit me to inquire if your brother is pretty well ? Comfit. His brother ! what on earth are you talking about ? He's an only son. Crot. (to Birdseye.) You haven't got a brother — perhapa you've a sister in male attire ? Birds. Really, Vm, not awaye! perhaps I may — it's just pos- sible ; such things do happen, you know. I can't say positively, but I'll inquire. Comfit. What in the w^orld qau have put such a strange idea into your head ? Crot. Ah, my dear friend, joxi would not be surprised if you only knew what happened to ine last night, but you don't know? Comfit, Not the least in the world. Crot. (ifo Birdseye.) And you? Birds. I'm in a state of perfect ignorance — ^^but I shall bo (Jelighted to hear all about it, if it's amusing. Crot. (aside.) Ile^s trying to brazen it out ; \>'\it I've my ^ye upon him. (aloud.) Such a r^ight, my dear Comfit — it's a mercj that I wasn't cut into a thousand pieces. IVIy dwelling was invaded by a band of burglars. Comfit, Nonsense ! you must have dreamt it. Crot, Alas ! no, it was was a painful reality, seeing that I w^as myself engaged in a desperate conflict with the captain of the gang. Comfit. Get along with you, ; you're trying to hoax me. I don't believe a word of it. Crot. I give you my honour it's the solemn truth. I detected the wretch lurking about my premises after raidnight, armed to the teeth, with an umbrella, and he carried oft' my hat. Mark that— for it's an important fact — he carried off my hat — that proves the felonious intent. Birds. ( aside.) So it's his hat I've got — that's pleasant. Crot. Of course I grappled with him, and after a desperate struggle the miscreant made his escape through the chimney. Birds, (forgetting himself.) Through the window ! Crot. Eh ! what was that you said ? PiRDS. (aside.) So I've put my foot in it. Crot. So you knew that he escaped through the window ? Birds. Excuse me, you didn't allow me to finish the sentence 30 don't lend your umbrella. Act 2. I meant to say. Through the window or through the chimney ? with a note of interrogation — I was only asking for infor- mation. Crot. Ah ! I see. (aside.) He's very deep — but I'll have him yet. {aloud.) Now I think of it, it was through the win- dow. Well, what is your opinion of the affair? Birds. My opinion is, he must have hurthimself very much. (aside.) If I could only manage to get hold of the umbrella. Comfit. But what the devil has all this to do with my son- in-law ? To tell you the honest truth, Crotchet, if it wasn't for the regard I have for you, I should say that you've had the nightmare, and that you're not wide awake yet. Crot. If it wasn't out of respect for your feelings, Comfit, I should tell you that you're an old fool. Nightmare, indeed ! just ask my wife — see what she'll tell you about it. Comfit. What, your wife saw the robber ? Crot. Saw him ? Of course she did. I surprised him in her bed-room, just as he was on the point of " attempting — Comfit. Good gracious ! What ? Crot. Her Hfe with a boot-jack. Birds, (forgetting himself.) Come, I say, stick to facts ! Crot. Eh? Birds, (aside.) I've done it again. Crot. (aside to Comfit — taking him ajmrt.) Tell me. Comfit, are you quite sure of that young man ? Comfit, (aside to Crotchet.) What do you mean ? Crot. (aside to Comfit.) Are you satisfied that he is really the person he pretends to be — the genuine Bristol Birdseye ? Comfit, (aside to Crotchet.) Of course I am. He brought me a letter from his father. Crot. (aside to Comfit.) That's no proof — he may have stolen it ; such things have happened before now. Comfit, (aside to Crotchet.) Nonsense! you must be joking. Crot. (aside to Comfit.) Be on your guard, for that young man and the robber of last night are one and the same person — I'll take my oath of it. Comfit, (aside Crotchet.) Good gracious! you don't say so. You've put me all over in a fluster. Birds, (aside.) I wonder what those two old fellows are confabulating about so mysteriously in the corner. Crotchet suspects me, that's clear. What a lucky thing I had my haii* dyed this morning. Comfit. Stop a minute ; now I think of it — Somer's Town •—a little after twelve — escaped by the window. I have it. (rings hell.) 1 think I've got a clue to the fellow. Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 31 Crot. You don't say so ! Birds, (aside.) I'm likely to have a pleasant afternoon^ it seems. I wonder what's coming now. Enter Jane, c. JaisE. Did you ring, sir? Comfit. Tell Mr. Quill to come here immediately. Jane. Yes, sir. Exit c. Birds, (aside.) Quill ! the devil ! (aloud.} And pray who is Mr. Quill? Comfit. Who is he ? he's my bookkeeper. Birds, (aside.) After all, it may not be the same, there must be more than one Quill in the world. Comfit, (^o Crotchet.) Have you any means of identifying the rascal ? Crot. Oh yes ! plenty of means. In the first place, here'» his umbrella, which he left in my hands as a trophy of victory when he jumped out of the window. In the second place, he'« got red hair. Comfit, (aside to Crotchet, pointhig to Birdseye.) Well, but if the fellow had red hair — look at his, it's as black as jet. . Crot, But, after all, that mark of identity is very deceptive, lor perhaps he wears a wig. (to Birdseye.) It isn't everybody that is blessed with such a fine head of hair as our young friend here, (passes Ms hand through Birdseye's hair.) Birds. Don't ! you're tickling me. Comfit, (aside to Crotchet.) You see, it's his own hair. Crot. (aside to Comfit.) I'm not so sure of that ; perhaps I didn't pull hard enough, (pidls Birdseye's hair.) Birds. Oh ! oh ! I wish you'd leave my hair alone, you'll make me bald befoi^ my time. Comfit, (aside to Crotchet.^ There, you see, you've hurt him — I hope you are satisfied now. Crot. (aside to Comfit.) It's very true ; I gave a desperate, pull that time. That proof of his identity has slipped through my fingers. Ejiter Quill, l. Quill, You sent for me, sir ? Birds, (aside.) Here's another pleasant predicament ! It's the identical Quill that I had locked up in the station house. (turns his hack to Quill.^ Comfit. Ah, yes, to be sure. Quill, you arrested an indi- vidual last night in Somer's Town, didn't you. Quill. Well, I can't precisely say that I arrested anybody, but I tried to, and got locked up myself for my pains. I heaxd somebody cry stop thief." 32 don't Li3ND your umbrella. Act 2. Crot. That was me — the scoundrel had just jumped out of my first floor window. Quill. You don't say so. (aside.) So it seems that Mrs. Crotchet — I suspected as much. Crot. Do you think you could swear to the individual in (question if ever you happened to see him again ? Quill. Swear to him ? I should think so. Why, we were strugghng together full five minutes, and right under a gas lamp, too. Crot. Very good ! By-the-bye, I don't think you've been introduced to Mr. Birdseye, have you ? Comfit. My daughter's future husband. Quill. Crot. (poiyiting to Birdseye.) There he is ; that's Mr. Birdseye. Quill, Indeed ! Sir, I'm sure I'm delighted to — (trying to tfet face to face with Birdseye.) I'm proud of the honour of — (recognising him.') Oh ! good gracious ! Birds, (aside.) 'Now for the catastrophe. Quill. Why, that's him ! Comfit, Him? Crot. What do you mean by him? Birds, (aside.) If I don't brazen it out, I'm done for. (aloud to Quill.) To be sure it's me, my dear fellow. How d'ye do ? delighted to see you. (shakes hands with Quill.) I hope you're, pretty well. Crot What, you know each other ? Birds. Know each other, of course we do — intimately, don't we, Quill ? (aside to Quill.J Don't betray me, and you shall h-ave anything you choose to ask for. Quill, (aside to Birdseye.) Anything ? Birds, (aside to Quill.) Y^es, anything ! If I haven't got it about me, I'll run and fetch it for you. Quill, (aside to Birdseye. J It's a bargain — I'll keep your secret. Crot. I should like to know what you two are whispering about ? Quill. It's a little affair entirely between ourselves. I was only reminding Mr. Birdseye of a promise ho made me som© time ago, that's all. Birds, (aside.) I'm anxious to know what I've promised him. Quill. He is aware of my attachment for Miss Julia — Birds. Eh? Quill. So he has kindly consented to rehnquish, in my favour, his pretensions to her hand. Birds, (aside.) Very kind of me, upon my word, but I must Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 3S keep up his delusion till the danger is over, (aloud to Comfit.) It's quite true — I couldn't well do less, you know, for an old friend. CcMFiT. C^o Crotchet.) What do you think of that, now? They've settled it all between themselves, you see, without taking the trouble to consult me or my daughter, who is learn- ing French too. But of course it's a joke, and a very good joke it is. I can't see the point of it myself ; but I dare say it's very funny. Enter Julia, r. Julia. Dinner is nearly ready, papa. Comfit, (aside to Julia.) Keep your shoulders down, my child — there he is. (aloud to Birdseye — taking [Ms hand and leading Mm to Julia.) Permit me, my dear sir — Julia, my love, this is Mr. Birdseye, the gentleman whom your fond father destines you hereafter to love, honour, and obey. Julia. Yes, papa, (aside.) How very odd ! his hair is a beautiful black, and they told me it was a frightful red. Birds, (aside.) She's a devilish pretty girl ; if her temper is only equal to her face I shall be the luckiest fellow in the world. J ULiA. Here's Mrs. Crotchet, papa. Enter Mrs. Crotchet, c. Comfit, (going to meet her.) Charmed to see you, my dear madam ; I trust you have forgiven us for our unseasonable visit last night. Mrs. C. Forgiven you, indeed ! as if old friends were not welcome at all hours, (sees Birdseye.) Can it be possible ? you here, sir ? Birds, (aside.) Stupid little idiot! why couldn't she hold her tongue ? Crot. I don't remember ever hearing you speak of him. Where did you meet him, eh ? Mrs. C. I'm sure I've had the pleasure of seeing him some- where before ; I don't recollect. Ah ! yes, to be sure, it was at Brighton — two years ago — before we were married, my dear. Crot. Ah! Indeed! Birds. Bravo ! she's not an idiot after after all. (aloud.) Of course it was ; we used to meet each other very often then ; we had some dehghtful walks together, dined together, danced together, bathed together. (Mrs. Crotchet and Julia go up. Crot. Bathed together ! Birds. In the same ocean, that's all ! not in the same machine, of course ! 34 don't lend your umbhella. Act 2. Crot. Ah ! I see ! (aside.) It's very odd ; I don^t understand it at all. jEJw^gr Jane, c. Jane. Mr. Brown. Mr. Jones, and Mr. Eobinson. Exit^ c. Enter Brown, Jones, and Kobinson, c. Comfit. ( shaking ha^ids with them.') Happy to see you. Mr. Birdseye — three valued .friends of mine ; you'll be pleased to make their acquaintance, I am sure — you know everybody else — make yourselves quite at home. By the bye, Quill, you may as well go down to the shop and see that all is right before we sit down to dinner. QuiLL^ Very good, sir! (aside.) If that fellow plays me any tricks I'll poison him with coloured sugar plums ; they'll soon settle his business, if I can make him eat enough of them. I'll go and fill my pockets with green ones ; they're only plaster of Paris and verdigris, and give him a lot after dinner. Exit., l. Crot. (seeing hat on piano.) Heavens! what do I see? my hat ! (takes hat from piano.) Mrs. C. What's the matter, my dear ? Crot. Arabella, behold how wonderful are the ways of Providence ; I've found my hat — the miscreant must be in this house — he can't escape me now. Mrs. C. (aside.) What a frightful dilemma, (aside to Birdseye.) Did you come here in my husband's hat? Birds, (aside to Mrs. Crotchet.) Yes, I'm sorry to say ; but it's quite safe, I put it away somewhere. Mrs. C. (aside to Birdseye.) Mr. Crotchet has discovered it, and he's got it. Birds, (aside.) The devil he has — here's a predicament. Comfit. Before we sit down to dinner you must all give me your opinion of my new greenhouse. I've built such a charm- ing little greenhouse on the leads, and it's full of such beautiful flowers ; one might fancy oneself miles out of town, instead of in the middle of Oxford Street. Will you come and see it, and meanwhile Julia will run down stairs and keep an eye upon Jane — that girl is not to be trusted for anything beyond a chop and potatoes. Julia. Very well, papa. Exit^ l. Comfit. Well, shall we go and look at the greenhouse ? Birds. With all my heart. I shall enjoy a little change of air, for it's frightfully hot in this room. Crot. (taking his other hat.) We had better put on our hats though, for it's a very chilly day. Comfit. Crotchet is right ; it's frightfully hot, but a very chilly day. We^ll put on our hats by all means. Sc, 1. don't lend your umbrella. 35 Birds, (aside.) Artful old wretch! I see his plan; but I don't see how I'm to defeat it, that's the worst of it. Crot. (aside.) I've secured both hats, so the man who hasn't got one must be the miscreant I'm in search of ; I'll keep a sharp look out ; he can't escape me now. Comfit, (offering his arm to Mrs. Crotchet.^ Allow me, piy dear madam ! Crot. Stop a minute, Mr. Birdseye hasn't got his hat. Birds. Haven't I? very true, I forgot, (takes hat froii^ Jones, loho is holding it behind him.) Here it is. Jones. I beg your pardon, sir, but that's my hat. Birds. You think so. (tries on the hat and finds it too large for him,) So it is ; I beg your pardon, (gives hat to Jones.) Then this must be it. (takes hat from Brown's hand., tries it on and finds it too small.) No, that won't do. (puts the hat on Robinson's head.) It's very odd, I certainly had a hat when I came here ; somebody must have got two. Crot. Eh, you think that somebody — ha, ha, ha ! — how droll, to be sure — I've positively taken two myself. Perhaps it's one of these ? Birds. One of those ? (aside^ looking at the hat which Crot- chet shows to him.) Why he hasn't got mine, after all. (aloud.) My dear sir, you really don't imagine that I was ever guilty of wearing such antedeluvian monstrosities. Crot. Young man, it's of no use abusing the days of Noah, that's quite apart from the present question. I've got tw-o hats and you've got none ; if neither of these is yours, where is your own — what has become of it ? Produce your hat, young man, that's all I have to say to you — produce your hat. (aside?) I have him now — he can't escape me. I tliink I'd better send for the police at once, (going to ring hell.) Mrs. C. (taking the hat left by Quill, on chair ^ r., and handing it to Birdseye.) Ah, here it is ! Crot. Eh? Birds, (taking the hat mechanically.) Yes, here it is, to be sure. Crot. (looking over Bisdseye's shoulder^ and reading inside, the hat.) Tomkins, Hatter, Bristol." Birds, (aside.) Tomkins, Bristol, why it is mine. What a miraculous chance, (aloud to Crotchet.) There, you see, I told you I had one when I came here, and you wanted to make me believe that it was one of those hideous abomina- tions — ha, ha, ha I (aside.) How the deuce came my hat in this house, that's what I want to know. Comfit. Well, if you're coming to see the greenhouse, you had better make h^ste, for dinner will be ready almost imme- 36 don't lend your umbrella. Act 2. diately. {giving Ids arm to Mrs. Crotchet.) Allow me, my dear madam. Exeunt Comfit, Mrs. Crotchet, Brown, Jones and Robinson, c. Crot. ( aside^ loolcing after them.) It's very odd — everybody has got a liat, and I've got two. 'No one can have lost his hat, unless he has lost his head as well — and they've all got their heads on. (loolcing at Birdseye.^ I can't help thinking, even now, that this fellow — and yet that black hair ! Perhaps it may be a wig, after all ; if I could manage to have another try. (passing by Birdseye, Tie pulls his hair.) Birds, (turning raund.) Eh— what's that ? So you're at it again, my friend ? Crot. I beg your pardon, it was quite an accident, nothing more ; quite an accident, I assure you. (aside.) I'll find out where he lives, and bribe the housemaid to pull it when he's asleep — that will set my mind at ease. E!xit Crotchet, c. Birds. Confound the old fellow, it seems to be a positive monomania with him. It's a most unpleasant propensity in a man that one's likely to meet two or three times a week for the rest of one's life, too. jE'wi^r Julia, l., with plate of fruity she is going c. — Ah, Miss Julia, will you forgive me if I detain you just for half a minute ? Julia, (coming down.) Certainly, sir. Birds, (aside.) Upon my word she^s a sweet little creature. Julia, (aside.) I wonder what he has to say to me ? I wish he would begin. Birds, (aside.) And I'ln going to be such an idiot as to plead the cause of my rival, and say to her — ''Accept Quill, love Quill, cherish Quill, and reject Birdseye ! " Nature forbid.i it ! Worthy nature, you shall be obeyed ! Julia. I beg your pardon, sir, but I understood that you had something to say to nie. (going.) Birds, (takes plate from ^ via a.) So I have, sweet Julia; the fact is, I've so much to say that I don't know where to begin, but I suppose I had better begin at the beginning ? Julia, (laughing ) That's generally the wisest plan. Birds. Oh ! if you only knew how wretched I feel in your presence. Julia. That's not very complimentary, you must admit. Birds. On the contrary, if I did not adore you I should not have been made so horribly miserable by hearing what I've heard. Julia. But what have you heard ? I have not the slightest Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 37 idea what you mean, or what you can have heard to make you miserable . Birds. Why, that your heart is another's — that Quill has ensnared your tender affections, and become the polestar of your existence. Julia. Listen to me, Mr. Birdseye ; you deserve that I should treat you as a friend, and I will tell you all. Birds, (placing plate on tahle^ r.^ That's right, tell me all, and I'll guess the rest. Julia. Well, you must know, that ever since I was a child I have been brought up with Mr. Quill ; he was my playfellow when I was a little girl, and since then I have been accustomed to see him every day, to talk to nobody else, to think of nobody else, so that almost without knowing why, I had learned to picture him to myself as possessing all the qualities with which my imagination invested its beau ideal. Birds. I see ; and he cajoled you with soft words, and fas- cinated you by tender glances, and so kept up the illusion. Insidious, designing Quill ! Julia. But this very day I have learned how bitterly I have been deceived, and now I look upon him with indifference, nay, more, with contempt. Birds. You don't say so ! Beloved Julia, you've wafted me to the seventh heaven of rapture ! I adore you — I idolize you ! I'm certain that we shall love each other to distraction, and you shall be mine, in spite of Quill, in spite of the whole world ! Julia. But nobody objects ; on the contrary, it's just what everybody desires. Birds. Don't be too sure of that ; there are obstacles and entanglements of which you have not the smallest idea ; and when you know all — But you must promise me that you won't believe a word of it ? Julia. I must know what it is first. Birds. Oh, a mass of abominations, doubts, and suspicions, and jealousies, and heaven knows what besides, and all owing to a confounded umbrella ! Julia. An umbrella? Birds. But never mind. Don't believe anything but that I love you, distractedly, devotedly, with my whole heart and soul ; and when people tell all sorts of atrocious stories about me, say to them — It isn't true — I'm sure he loves me — he has sworn it on his knees — it's all a pack of lies — go to the devil !" (falls on }tis knees^ and kisses hei^ hands. Enter QuiLi,, l. Quill. Well, I'm sure. 38 don't lend your umbrella. Act 2. Birds, (rising.) Quill ! (aside.) The devil ! here's another mess. Julia. Are you looking for anyone, Mr. Quill ? Birds. Yes, are you looking for anyone, my young friend? Quill. No, I'm not looking for anyone, my young friend ] but I'm looking for my hat ; I'm sure I must have left it hera just now — I can't see it anywhere ; but I recollect as well as possible putting it on that chair. You're a pretty sort of a chap, ain't you now ? With all your palavering promises, to go and make love on your own account as soon as a fellow's back is turned. You're a nice article, you are. Birds. My dear young friend, it is of no use trying to reverse the decrees of destiny ; I love Miss Julia, and I flatter myself that she loves me. Quill. Oh, you do, do you ? Well, it's my opinion that you do flatter yourself, and above a bit, too — for I'd lay half -a- crov/n that she don't do anything of the kind. Julia. Take my advice, Mr. Quill — don't waste your money. Quill. Eh! Julia. Look at this, Mr. Quill ; I don't think that you'll require any further explanations, (shows handkerchief to Quill.) Quill, (aside.) Her handkerchief that I gave to Mrs. Crotchet ; I'm sold and no mistake, (aloud.) Very good, that's quite enough — now it's my turn. Mr. Birdseye, I'm going to have a quiet chat with Mr. Crotchet. Birds. Chat away, my young friend, you'll only be laughed at for your pains. Do you think anyone would take me for a burglar ? Quill. NTo ! but when it's known that at a quarter past twelve o'clock you were closetted all alone with Mrs. Crotchet. Julia. You, Mr. Birdseye ? Quill. Precisely ; when that is known everybody will be able to guess what sort of burglary you were bent upon com- mitting. Julia, (to Birdseye.) Well, su-, have you nothing to say? Birds. I told you how it would be — that's abomination number one ! Quill. I defy him to contradict me — only fancy, Miss Julia ! Birds. Young man, if it's only out of respect for youth and innocence, hold your tongue. Julia. What, you confess that it's true. Quill. Of course he confesses it ; he can't help himeelf, and I'll go this very instant and tell Mr. Crotchet aU about it. Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 33 Julia. It's scandalous. Birds. If you breathe a single word to Mr. Crotchet, you young vagabond, I'll murder you. Quill. Don't think to frighten me with your sanguinary threats, libertine. I don't care that for them, (snapping his fingers — aside,) I'll have him bound over to keep the peace the first thing to-morrow morning. Exit^ c. Birds, (to Julia, who is going^ r.) Adorable Julia! don't believe a word of it — never mind what he says, believe nothing but that I love you. Julia. Don't presume to speak to me, sir. I'll never believe anything any more. Exit^ c. Birds. She spurns me with indignation ; and Quill has hurried off to tell his tale to old Crotchet, who suspects me already, and will believe every word. Things are beginning to look very queer — if I could manage to slip out of the house and catch the express to Bristol, it strikes me that it would be about the wisest thing I could do. Enter Mrs. Crotchet, c. ivith umbrella. Birds. Ah, my dear madam I why you don't mean to say that it's raining again ? Mrs. C. Certainly not. Is it possible that you don't recognize it ? (offering him the umbrella.) Birds. Recognise it ! (taking the umbrella.) To be sure I do. It's the blue silk with the ivory handle. What in the world shall I do with it ? Ah ! to be sure — the very thing, (rings bell.) I'm sure youll excuse me, but I shan't be easy until I've got rid of this abominable source of all my misfortunes ; when that's out of sight I shall feel hke a free man again. Enter Jane, c. Jane. Did you ring, sir? Birds. Yes. I want you to run to Verey's with this umbrella immediately. Jane. Don't you think I'd better get a boy to take it, sir ? Mrs. C. What, then this umbrella is not yours, after aU ? Birds. Certainly not. I borrowed it, and, wonderful to relate, I'm going to return it. (aside.) That's a gentle hint for her. (aloud to Jane.) By all means get a boy to take it ; there's sixpence for him, and tell him to run all the way. Quick ; there's not a minute to be lost. (gives money and umbrella to Jane. Exit Jane, c. Mrs. C. N"ow, I hope that your troubles are at an end. Birds. Not quite. You've rescued me from one peril, it's true, and I shall be eternally grateful to you for it , but there are others that threaten me still. 40 don't lend youh umbrella. Act 2. Mrs. C. Indeed ! What are they ? Birds. We had better prepare ourselves. Before many hours have elapsed we shall both be hurried to an untimely end. Mrs. C. Good gracious, Mr. Birdseye, you alarm me. Birds. I'm alarmed myself, and not without reason, I assure you, for at this moment that rascal Quill is telling your hus- band all that he knows, and a great deal more, too, denouncing me as a vile seducer, and Heaven knows what. Mrs. C. It's all your own fault. Why didn't you do as I told you, and ask the servant to let you out by the area gate ? Birds. The servant ! nonsense, you don't keep a servant, Mrs. C. 'Not keep a servant ! Of course we do ! Birds. Excuse me, but I'm sure you're mistaken ! Mrs. C. What an absurd idea ! Birds, (aside.) She hires a charwoman, I'm convinced of it. (Voices heard without. Mrs. C. Heavens — surely that's my husband's voice. Birds. It's aU over with us. Let us expire tranquilly in each other's arms. Mrs. C. Nonsense ; be cool, and brave the storm. Enter Crotchet with the two hats^ and Comfit, c. Crot. Lock the doors, bar the windows, stop up the chimneys. Where is he ? Where is the ruffian ? Let me get at him — let me strangle him ! (advancing toivards Birdseye.) Birds, (retreating.) Hold him, somebody ! hold him fast — don't let him come near me — I won't be answerable for the consequences. Mrs. C. Upon my word, Mr. Crotchet, your conduct makes me blush for you. Will you tell me what it all means ? Crot. What, you wish me to unveil your infamous conduct to the public gaze ? very good, I'U unveil it. The scoundrel I found in your room last night was not a robber, he was a lover, and that's the man. (pointing to Birdseye.) Birds. It's an atrocious calumny. (Crotchet advances towards Birdseye, he retreats.) Will nobody hold that fellow fast? Mrs. C. But you told me that the robber had red hair. Crot. That's very true ; but then he was frightened, and the fright may have turned it black. Fright turns people's hair grey sometimes — why shouldn't it turn it black, too ? Mrs. C. If that's your only proof — Crot. I don't want any proof — Quill has told me all. Birds. Oh ! Quill has told you, has he ? So the rascal has Sc. 1. don't lend your umbrella. 41 had the assurance to accuse me, when he is the real culprit, after all. Crot. What? Birds. Yes, worthy Crotchet, I didn't mean to tell you — I wanted to spare your feelings, but I can't contain myself any longer. Quill was the vile marauder whom you surprised last night, concealed in the chamber of your virtuous spouse. Crot. How do you know ? Did you see him there ? Birds. Of course not ; but your wife has told me all about it. Crot. Arabella ! is it possible ? Mrs. C. I certainly said that Mr. Quill called on me last evening. Crot. To be sure ; he took tea with you — I recollect. Mrs. C. Yes ; and when you came home I thought that Lucy had let him out by the area gate — ^you know better than I do what happened afterwards. Crot. So the wretch that jumped out of my first floor window — Birds. Was that vagabond Quill — ^to be sure it was. (aside.) He's swallowed it all at a single gulp. Quill, (aside.) They're all together ; I suppose the explosion has taken place by this time. Crot. Ah ! here he is ! (to Quill.) Have the goodness to step this way, young man. Quill, (coming down.) With pleasure, sir. Crot. Show me your hat. Quill. I don't know where it is. Somebody must have taken it. I was obliged to go out in a cap. (sees hat in Crot- chet's hand.) Ha, ha, ha ! why, it's you that have been hiding it from me all the while. Crot. What, is this your hat ? Quill, To be sure it is. Crot. "1 Quill. What's the matter now ? Crot. Profligate ! libertine ! let me get at him — ^let me tear his eyes out. (advances to him.) Quill, (defending himself with the umbrella.) Come, I say, don't be foolish. Crot. Gracious powers ! what do I see ? my umbrella ! So it was you that stole it from me, vagabond. Quill. Stole it, indeed, it's my own. Enter Quill, c. with umbrella. 42 don't lend your umbrella. Act 2. Crot. That umbrella is yours ? Quill. Of course it is. Crot. ^ Quill. vVliat on earth are you groaning about ? If you must know, I had left it at Verey's by mistake, and I've just been to fetch it, that's all about it. Crot. Left it at Verey's, indeed ; it was at my house that you left it, reprobate. Birds. It was at his house that you left it, reprobate. Quill. At his house ? Crot. Yes, at my house, last night, when you jumped from the first floor window. Quill. Me ! jumped from the first floor window ! Birds. Yes, you. Quill. Well, I never ! Crot. ^ Quill. Can't you see, they're all trying to make a fool of you, Mr. Crotchet ? Crot. Let me get at him — I'll massacre him. (advancing towards Quill.) Quill, (retreating) Keep off — don't come near me. Crot. Monster ! I'll tear you into fifty thousand fragments ! Wretch — slanderer — libertine ! ( they struggle^ Crotchet seizes Quill's hair^ his wig comes o^, and shows red hair beneath.) Carrots, by Jupiter ! Quill, (aside.) My stars, here's a mess. I'm done for now, and no mistake. Julia. Good gracious, papa, what's the matter, (seeing QuiLL.J Is it possible, Mr. Quill ? Oh, how ugly he looks to be sure ! Crot. That's his natural state, my dear. Let it be a lesson to you through life, never suffer yourself to be deceived by first impressions. Comfit, if I were you, I should kick that feUow out on the spot. Comfit. You're right, he deserves it. Quill, consider your- self kicked out. Quill. Very good, sir ; I appeal to posterity — future ages Enter Julia, c. shall vindicate my memory. Exit, Quill, r. Sc. 1. don't lend youk umbrella. 43 Mrs. C. (aside to Birdseye.) Have you quite forgiven me for all the annoyance I have caused you ? Birds. ( aside to Mrs Crotchet.) Forgiven you, my dear madam ? Do angels stand in need of pardon ? (aside.) Catch me lending you my umbrella again, that's all. Comfit. Now let's go to dinner. Birds. Stop a minute ; I knew I had something to say to you. Just answer me one question. Have you got an umbrella ? Crot. Yes ! do you want to borrow it ? Birds. Not for the world ; but I can give you a friendly hint that will be worth a fortune to you ; if you will only pay attention to it. Shall I ? Crot. By all means. Birds. Well then, never lend your umbrella. Lending is always a losing game ; lend your money to a friend, and you'U never see it again, lend your name to a bill, and you'll get into the Gazette ; lend your patronage to a Joint Stock Company, and you'll find yourself in chancery ; lend yourself to a swindle, and you'll figure at the bar of the Old Bailey ; but if you must lend, lend anything, everything, except one thing— Take my advice — never lend your umbrella. curtain. EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS. R. R. C. C. L. C. L. Pight. Right Centre. Centre. Left Centre. Left. FACING THE AUDIENCE. Printed by T. Blower, 313, Straud. NEW and SCARCE PLAYS, Now on Sale by T. H. Lacy, and by order of all Booksellers. Abelard and Ileloise 1 0 Abon Hassan 2 0 Adrian and Orilla ... 2 0 Ag'iies de Vere 1 0 Ali Baba, or a Nig-ht with the 40 Thieves 0 6 All at Coventry, 8vo 0 6 Ann and 1 0 Bachelor's Torments 1 0 Battle of Waterloo ... 0 6 Blanch of Navarre, a Play by James 1 0 Bloomer Costume ... 0 6 Borrowing- a Husband 1 0 Bride of Abydos 3 0 Bringing Home the Bride 0 6 Brother and Sister... 1 6 Burmese War (The) 0 6 Cadi (opera) 1 0 Camaralzaman, a Fairy Drama, by James 0 6 Carnival of Naples ... 1 0 Casco Bayo 0 6 Catherine of Cleves... 1 0 Catherine of Russia . 1 0 Caught in his own Trap .06 Circumstantial Evi- dence 0 6 De Montfort 1 0 Devil's Kin* 0 6 Dream of Life 0 6 Dream at Sea .. 1 0 Duchess Eleanour ... 1 0 Earl of Warwick 1 0 Elena Liberti (oj3em) 1 0 Elephant of Siam .... 0 6 Elisina, a Drama 1 0 Ethelstan 0 6 Family Pictures 0 6 Fatal Curiosity 1 0 Five in One ( ati imita^ tive interlude) 0 6 Frenchman in London 0 6 Frig-htencd to Death 2 0 Gertrude's Cherries.. 1 0 Gipsy of Derncleugh 0 6 Giselle 2 0 Green Bushes 1 0 Gnscldo. (Watkins).,, 1 0 Hans of Iceland (6a/- let) 0 6 Hero of the North ... 1 0 He Lies Like Truth 2 0 Heart of London, or the Sharper's Pro- gress 1 0 Heroine, or a Daugh- ter's Courage 0 6 Highwayman 0 6 Home for the Holidays 1 0 How to take up a Bill 1 0 Irish Heiress 1 0 Isolda 1 0 KingZany'sDaughter 0 6 Kiss & the Rose (The) 0 6 Lady & the Devil, 8vo 0 6 Lady of Lyons 2 6 liegend of Florence, 8vo 1 0 Leola (ballet) 0 6 Lion's Lady (The) ... 0 6 London Assurance ...3 0 Love a la Militaire ... 0 6 Lovers* Quarrels 0 6 Love's Frailties 0 6 Lucret.Borgia( oi?era) 1 0 Lucretia 0 6 Macbeth Modernized 0 6 Mammon & Gammon 0 6 Mark Lawrence 1 6 May Melvin 0 6 May Queen 1 6 Money 2 6 Monsieur Mallet, or i MyDaughter'sLetter 2 0 Native Land 1 0 No. 1 A 0 6 Norma(opcr.Planche)l 0 CEdipus 0 6 Old Adam 0 6 Old Guard (The) 1 0 Oliver Cromwell 1 0 One Fault or a Hus- band's Honour 0 6 Orphan (The) 1 0 Parson's Nose (The) 0 6 Peasant Boy, Svo 0 6 Peer and the Peasant 1 0 Pet of the Petticoats 2 6 s. a. Polkamania 1 6 Plots for Petticoats.. 0 6 Pretender (The) 0 6 Presumptive Guilt, or the Fiery Ordeal... 0 6 Promissory Note 6 6 Queenof the Thames 0 6 Rake and his Pupil.. 1 6 Ravenna, or Italian Love 0 6 Robert Burns 1 6 Robinson Crusoe, Svo 0 6 Runnymede 2 6 Sam Weller, or the Pickwickians 2 0 Scamps of London ...10 Scholar (The) 1 6 School for Grown Children 1 0 Second Thoughts ... 1 6 Seraglio (The) 1 0 SecretMarriage(o/?er.)l 0 Secret (The) {Mon- crieff) Svo 0 6 Shakspeare and Com- pany, a Comedy ... 0 6 Sixtus the Fifth 0 6 Somnambulist (The) 0 6 St. Clair of the Isles 2 0 Strafford, a Tragedy (Browning) 1 0 Tarnation Strange, or more Jonathans ... 1 0 Thomas a Beckett ... 1 0 Tobit's Dog (The)... 1 0 Trevanion 1 0 Trumpeter'sDaughter 1 6 Turf 1 0 Turn Out 0 6 Ulrica 1 6 Uncle Toby 0 6 Used Up 0 6 Vagrant (The) 1 6 Wanderer 0 6 Wild Boy of Bohemia 0 6 Winterbottoms(The) 1 0 Woodman's Hut 1 0 World ( The )aComedyl 0 Wreck Ashore 1 0 Zoroaster 1 6 MATHEWS AT HOME. These popular Entertainments, containing the whole of the Songs, Tales Recitations. Mathew's Memorandum Book. Mathews* Comic Annual, 1830. „ Theatrical Olio,— First. „ „ 1831. „ Second. „ „ 1832. „ „ Fourth. „ „ 1833. Also the following Entertainments: Kayner's Up to Town and Back Again. W. H. Williams' Visits. Yates' Portraits and Sketches. Morsels of Mirth. Alcxandro'sAdventuresofaVentriloquist, Rhymes and Reasons. U Henry's Table Talk. AU (U JSixpence eachj by Post,