Our American Cousin Tom Taylor (top ebook reader .txt) 📖

epub:type="z3998:persona">Asa Trenchard Yes, I’ll be there like a thousand of brick. Augusta A thousand of brick! Mrs. Mountchessington Hush, my dear! that is doubtless some elegant American expression. Au revoir, Mr. Trenchard. Asa Trenchard Which? Mrs. Mountchessington Au revoir. Exit with Augusta, R. Asa Trenchard No, thank you, don’t take any before dinner. No use their talking Dutch to me. Wal, I never see an old gal stand fire like that, she’s a real old bison bull. I feel all-fired tuckered out riding in those keers. I’d like to have a snooze if I could find a place to lay down in. Sees curtain on window, L. E. Oh, this might do! Pulls curtain, then starts back. No you don’t! One shower bath a day is enough for me. Cautiously opens them. No, I guess this is all right, I shall be just as snug in here as in a pew at meeting, or a private box at the Theatre. Hello! somebody’s coming. Goes into recess. Enter Lord Dundreary and Mr. Buddicombe, L. 1 E. Mr. Buddicombe My lord⁠— Lord Dundreary Business. Mr. Buddicombe My lord! Lord Dundreary Business. Mr. Buddicombe Your lordship!! Louder. Lord Dundreary There, now you’ve spoiled it. Mr. Buddicombe Spoiled what, my lord? Lord Dundreary Spoiled what, my lord; why, a most magnificent sneeze! Mr. Buddicombe I am very sorry, my lord. Lord Dundreary Now that I can speak alone with you, tell me about that hair dye. Have you found it? Mr. Buddicombe Not a trace of it, my lord. Lord Dundreary If you don’t find it, I’ll discharge you. Mr. Buddicombe Very well, my lord. Bows and exits, L. 1 E. Lord Dundreary Very well, my lord! He’s gone and lost my hair dye, and my hair turns red tomorrow, and when I ask him to find it for me or I’ll discharge him, he says, ‘Very well, my lord.’ He’s positively idiotic, he is⁠—Ah! here comes Miss Georgina, that gorgeous creature⁠—that lovely sufferer. Exit, L. 1 E. Asa Trenchard Looking out. What’s the price of hair dye? Hallo! he’s coming again with that sick girl. Re-enter Lord Dundreary and Georgina, L. 1 E. Lord Dundreary Will you try and strengthen your limbs with a gentle walk in the garden? Georgina No, thank you, my lord. I’m so delicate. Oh, my lord, it is so painful to walk languidly through life, to be unable, at times, to bear the perfumes of one’s favorite flowers. Even those violets you sent me yesterday I was compelled to have removed from my room, the perfume was too strong for me. I’m so delicate. Lord Dundreary Yes, Miss Georgina; but they’re very strengthening flowers, you know. Georgina Yes, my lord, you are always right. Lord Dundreary Do you know I’m getting to be very robust? Georgina Would I could share that fault with you; but I am so delicate. Lord Dundreary If you were robust I should not love you as I do. It would deprive you of that charm which enchains me to your lovely side, which⁠—which⁠— Georgina Oh, my lord, my lord! I’m going to faint. Lord Dundreary And I’m going to sneeze, you faint while I sneeze. Georgina Taking his arm. Oh! my lord. Lord Dundreary Do you know what a sneeze is? Georgina No, my lord. Lord Dundreary She never sneezed. I’ll tell you what a sneeze is. Imagine a very large spider. Georgina Screams. Where, my lord? Lord Dundreary No, no, I don’t mean a real spider, only an imaginary one, a large spider getting up your nose, and all of a sudden, much to his disgust, he discovers he has put his foot in it and can’t get it out again. Georgina That must be very distressing. Lord Dundreary For the spider, yes, and not very pleasant for the nose. Georgina Oh! my lord, do take me to mamma. Lord Dundreary No, you lovely sufferer, let’s walk a little more. Georgina I can’t my lord, I’m so delicate. Lord Dundreary Well, then, exercise, imitate that little hop of mine. Hops. It isn’t a run, it’s a⁠— Georgina What is it? Lord Dundreary No, it isn’t a what is it. Well, let me suppose I get you an oyster. Georgina shakes her head. Oh! then suppose I get you an oyster. Georgina No, my lord, I’m too delicate. Lord Dundreary How would you like the left wing of a canary bird? Georgina No, my lord, it’s too strong for me. Lord Dundreary Let me ask you a widdle⁠—why does a duck go under water? for diverse reasons. Now I’ll give you another⁠—why does a duck come out of the water? for sundry reasons. No! No! see, you live on suction, you’re like that bird with a long bill, they call doctor, no, that’s not it, I thought it was a doctor, because it has a long bill⁠—I mean a snipe⁠—yes, you’re a lovely snipe. Exeunt, R. Asa Trenchard Looking after them. There goes a load of wooden nutmegs. Hello, here comes somebody else. Enter Florence Trenchard, R., with paper. Florence Trenchard Reads. ‘One who still remembers what he ought long since to have forgotten, wishes to speak with Miss Trenchard.’ Florence scratched out, ‘on matters of life and death, near the orel, in the west gallery.’ Written upon a dirty sheet of paper, in a hardly legible hand. What does this mean; it opens like one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s romances. Well, here I am, and now for my correspondent. Enter Abel Murcott, L. Abel Murcott Oh! for one minute’s clear head, Miss Florence. Florence Trenchard I presume you are the writer of this? Abel Murcott Yes, I am. Florence Trenchard You address me as an old acquaintance, but I do not recognize you. Abel Murcott So much the better. So much the better. Florence Trenchard I hate mystery, sir; but you see I have come to rendezvous. I must know to whom I am speaking. Abel Murcott As frank as ever. I am Abel Murcott. Florence Trenchard Starting back! You? Abel Murcott Do not be ashamed, I have not the strength to injure you, if I had the evil. In this shabby, broken down drunkard you need not fear the madman, who years ago forgot in his