Kitabı oku: «The Duchess of Dublin», sayfa 4

Sharpset. Jes' so. Keep it up, doctor. But it won't fool me. The critter's here. Turn her over to me, bag and baggage, and I'll pay you a thousand dollars down.

Dr. A. A thousand dollars – you'll pay me? Be calm, my friend, be calm. You betray unmistakable symptoms of a disordered mind. Will you oblige me with a little explanation?

Sharpset. Jes' so.

Dr. A. Who is the "critter" that you are in pursuit of?

Sharpset. The duchess, of course. Why, consarn it, it's all over town.

Dr. A. The duchess? Ah, yes, poor man, lunacy always takes high flights. Ah, who is the duchess?

Sharpset. Jes' so. Doctor, do you see anything of a verdant hue in this optic? (Finger on left eye.) It's no use. "The Duchess of Dublin" is in this house; is under your charge. Now do the handsome thing. I'll put her up as an extra attraction, charge double price, and divide profits. There's an offer.

Dr. A. By doubling your price on "The Duchess of Dublin"? Now, you must excuse the question, but who is "The Duchess of Dublin"? and what have I to do with "The Duchess of Dublin"?

Sharpset. Consarn it, mister, are you a fool?

Dr. A. Now gently, friend. Be calm, be calm. (Aside.) O, he's very crazy!

Sharpset. Humbug! Will you, or will you not, accept my offer? Half profits for the duchess. Sharp's the word! Quick, or you lose it!

Dr. A. My dear friend, it wouldn't hurt you to lose a little blood. My lancet's handy.

Sharpset. Jehoshaphat! do you take me to be an idiot?

Dr. A. You'd better go home. Your wife and children are expecting you. No doubt the little folks are chanting, with their childish voices, "Dear father, dear father, come home."

Sharpset. Jes' so. You can't pull wool over my eyes, doctor. Silas Sharpset is sharpset by name and sharpset by nater. You can't fool me. You've got a prize, and want to keep it for yourself; but if I don't set the populace howling round your door, and make you show up the duchess, then you can shave my head, and lock me up for life. No monopolies here in living curiosities while Sharpset's around – not if he knows it: jes' so.

[Exit, L.

Dr. A. He's gone – home, I hope. He's very mad. Why don't his friends take care of him. It's dangerous to let a man run round with such horrid ideas as are rambling through his brain. The fat girl, the living skeleton, the bald-headed accountant, and "The Duchess of Dublin." 'Pon my word, the idea of my having under my charge a duchess! O, it's absurd. The man's crazy; he must be looked after; I'll follow him (takes hat), and see that he does no damage. (Goes to door, L.)

Enters, suddenly, Miss Abigail Alllove, with a large book under her arm. Seizes Dr. Aconite by arm, and drags him down, C.

Abigail (mysteriously). You are – are you? – or am I mistaken?

Dr. A. Eh? You may be right, you may be wrong, or you may be mistaken.

Abigail. You do not answer me; and I, poor lone orphan that I am, tremble in your presence.

Dr. A. Eh? Are you often alone? Miss, or madam, let's drop this nonsense. Have, you any business with me? I am Dr. Aconite.

Abigail. You are the friend of the unfortunate; the guide of suffering humanity to havens of rest; the healer of broken hearts; the finger-post that points the way to the mansion of health. O, human angel, list to my woes.

Dr. A. Madam, or miss, I shall be happy to aid you with my professional skill.

Abigail. Professional skill? Away with it. I want it not. I want sympathy, friendship, love.

Dr. A. Ah, indeed. Then I'm sorry I cannot help you. They are not in my line.

Abigail. List to a tale of grief. At the age of four I lost my mother, at the age of ten my father, at the age of fifteen my sister, at twenty my only brother, at twenty-five my uncle, at thirty —

Dr. A. O, stop, stop, stop! Spare me. I didn't kill them. I haven't been in practice a year. You must see I had no time for such slaughter.

Abigail. I am alone in the world. No relatives, no friends, "no one to love," – only this. (Shows book.)

Dr. A. And pray what is that?

Abigail. A treasure millions could not buy. A pearl of matchless value – my life, my friend, my love – my autograph album.

Dr. A. O, indeed, is that all? And you want my autograph? With the greatest pleasure. (Attempts to take book.)

Abigail. Away! Do not profane it with your touch. None but the noble stain its spotless pages.

Dr. A. Ah, indeed! Pardon my presumption.

Abigail. No, only the divine wielders of the pen, the classic movers of the artistic brush, the noble toilers with the gracing chisel, the seraphic sons and daughters of song, kings, emperors, queens, the high-born and the great can dot their i's in Abigail Alllove's autograph album.

Dr. A. Decidedly select.

Abigail (opening book). Behold the autograph of the Emperor of China.

Dr. A. (reading). "Will you come and take tea in the arbor. Te he!" Ah, did you te-ease him for that?

Abigail. The name of the Emperor of the French.

Dr. A. (reading). "Put out the light, and then put – Napoleon." Which he did. Very good.

Abigail. The Queen of Sheba.

Dr. A. (reading). "Anything on this board for ten cents. Saloma." Attentive to business, very.

Abigail. Dr. Livingstone.

Dr. A. (reading).

 
"On, Stanley, on,
Were the last words from Livingstone."
 

Original, very.

Abigail. Joshua Billings.

Dr. A. (reading). "Duz time fli in fli time? Josh Billings." That's a very bad spell.

Abigail. Alfred Tennyson.

Dr. A. (reading).

 
"When I can shoot my rifle clear
To pigeons in the skies,
I'll bid farewell to pork and beans,
And live on pigeon pies."
 

A. Tennyson."

Abigail. Exquisite poet!

Dr. A. I admire his taste.

Abigail. Now, dear doctor, I would add one other name to my valuable collection. You can aid me. Will you? O, say you will – will you? and take the burden from the heart of a lone orphan.

Dr. A. Madam, or miss, I should be very happy to assist you —

Abigail. O, rapturous answer! O, noble disciple of Æsculapius! The lips of the lone orphan will bless you; the tears of the lone orphan shall bless you; the smiles of the lone orphan —

Dr. A. Be calm, be calm. In what way can I assist you?

Abigail. You have beneath your roof a noble lady —

Dr. A. Eh?

Abigail. From a foreign clime. You hold her here in secret. Let me but get her name in my autograph album, and Abigail Alllove will die happy.

Dr. A. Noble lady? (Aside.) Another lunatic.

Abigail. Yes, the name of "The Duchess of Dublin."

Dr. A. The – dickens! Stark, staring mad. My dear young lady, you are laboring under a hallucination. Go home at once. Call your friends.

Abigail. Alas! I have no friends. Did I not tell you I am a lone —

Dr. A. Yes, yes; but call in the neighbors, the kind neighbors —

Abigail. But the duchess! I must see the duchess. The hopes, the fears, the life of a lone orphan —

Dr. A. Lone orphan, go home; let me alone. I have no duchess, know no duchess. You are deceived. No, no, dear, go home.

 
"Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
 

Abigail. O, you wretch! You mean, contemptible quack. You have read my album, my precious volume, and now refuse my request.

Dr. A. But, my dear young lady —

Abigail. Don't come near me! You've broken the heart of a lone orphan. You're a base, ungrateful, ugly, miserable pill-box! and I hope you'll never live to own an autograph album – there!

[Exit, L.

Dr. A. Good by, lone orphan. Now there's a case that requires immediate attention. Poor thing! I ought not to have let her go until her friends appeared. (Enter Dennis, L. Stands in door, beckoning to Dr. Aconite.) Hallo! who's that?

Dennis (mysteriously). Sh! sh! (Creeps down, C., beckoning to Dr. Aconite.)

Dr. A. Well, what is it?

Dennis. It's all right, docther, it's all right.

Dr. A. Well. I'm glad to know that, at any rate.

Dennis. Yis, I'll not brathe a word. It's from the owld counthry I am.

Dr. A. That's very evident.

Dennis. An' it's mysilf that would give the worrld to sit my two eyes on her. Now, docther, it's a lone widdyer I am, an' would ye's go for to do me a kindness?