The Brass Bottle: A Farcical Fantastic Play in Four Acts. Anstey F.
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evening.
[To himself.] He's no dream, anyhow! [With exultation.] A client! A real client of my own! At last!
[Enters from landing.] Did you ring for me, sir? – or was it only to let the gentleman out?
[She comes down.
Oh, there is something I had to tell you. We shall be five at dinner, not four. You can manage all right, eh?
[Comfortably.] Lor, yes, sir. That won't make no difference!
[In front of table.] By the way, Mrs. Rapkin, you haven't let your ground-floor yet, have you? To – to an Asiatic gentleman?
Me, sir? Let to a Asiatic! No, – nor wouldn't! Why, there was Rapkin's own sister-in-law let her droring-room floor to one. And – [darkly] – reason she 'ad to repent of it – for all his gold spectacles.
[Relieved.] Ah, I thought you hadn't. [Sits on table.] Well, about the waiting to-night? I suppose I can depend on Rapkin for that, eh? Where is he?
Well, sir, not to deceive you, he ain't back yet from his Public – Libery as he calls it.
Oh, that's what he calls it, eh?
Whatever he's took, sir, you may rely on him to 'and the dishes without 'aving no accidents.
What's going on outside? [He goes to window, looks out, and then starts back uneasily.] I say. It's – it's devilish odd – but there seems to me to be a whole caravan of camels down there!
[Crossing to window.] Camuels, sir?
Well, you look and see what you make of them!
[Looking down over balcony.] Lor! They do look like camuels, sir – or somethink o' that. I expect they belong to the 'Ippodrome, or else a circus.
[Relieved.] I say, what a sensible woman you are! Of course! I never thought of that!
[Still looking out, while the chant finishes with a few shouts, as though a halt were called.] They seem to be stopping outside the 'ouse. Them camuels have folded up, and all the niggers as is with them is a kneelin' down with their noses on the kerbstone!
[Uncomfortably.] They're only resting. Come away and don't take any notice. They'll move on presently.
[Still at window.] But they're unpackin' the camuels now! And – well, if they ain't bringing everythink in 'ere!
Great Scott!
They wouldn't be more things as you've been buying at that auction, sir, would they?
No, no. It's a mistake! It must be a mistake!
Then I'd better go and tell them —
Look here! I say, – you fellows! You've come to the wrong house!
'Ere! my good men, what are you comin' in 'ere for, bringing all your dust into my apartments?
[Standing paralysed; to himself.] We can't both be dreaming!
[Trying to remonstrate with slaves.] This rubbish don't belong 'ere! I can't 'ave the 'ole place littered up with it! You needn't act so ridic'lous if you are niggers! [To Horace.] It ain't no use my talking to 'em, sir. They're not like Christians– they're deaf and dumb, seemingly! You try!
[Going to the Head Slave, who salaams as he approaches.] Can you understand if I ask a question? [The Head Slave salaams again.] Well, I – I know it seems a silly thing to ask – but – but you don't happen to be sent here by – by anybody with a name something like Fakrash? [The Head Slave implies by a gesture that this is so.] You have!.. Well, look here. I don't want 'em. I decline to take 'em in. You have all these things put on the camels again, and clear out! Do you see what I mean? [By this time the other slaves have gone; the Head Slave signifies in pantomime that the things are Horace's, salaams, and goes out, the door closing behind him mysteriously.] I don't believe that idiot understands now! They've gone off to fetch more!
[Who has returned to window.] They've gone off altogether, sir. I can't see nothink now but a cloud of dust.
[Sinks into chair on right of table with his head buried in his hands.] The fools! The confounded fools!
[Comes to table and looks for Horace in vain.] Sir! Sir! [Sees him over the bales, &c.] Sir! Where are you going to 'ave your dinner-party now?
[Forlornly.] Oh, I don't know – I don't know! Don't worry me now, Mrs. Rapkin! Go away! Can't you see I want to think – I want to think!
[As she goes towards door at back.] Well, I must say and I do say that if this 'ad to 'appen, it couldn't have come more ill-convenient! [She goes out.
[As he returns the diamond to the sack.] Oh! damn it all!
My son!
[Recoiling on sacks.] I'm not dreaming now! I'm awake! And yet – all that story of yours about your being shut up in a brass bottle? I did dream that– eh?
Nay, it is even as I told thee.
And it was you who sent me all these things?
A few trifling gifts by no means suited to thy dignity! Thou owest me no thanks.
I – I'd rather not owe you anything. I mean – I can't possibly accept any presents from you.
Nay, they are freely thine.
I