child-as a lady, you shall take the fork, I'll use the spoon, and the knife shall be considered, like the fortunes in the Agapemone, common to all. Now, allow me to help you. Mary. [bringing the chicken.] But I want a plate to put the chicken on. Peter. Are plates absolutely necessary, eh? Peter. I have it! here's the bill of a theatre to let-put the chicken on it, and we'll consider it dished. Mary. Well, all is ready, now to supper. [They sit. Mary. There's no bread. But stay, I've some captain's biscuits. Peter. They are heavy for the stomach, but never mind, let us enjoy ourselves. [Beginning supper.] Well, you will allow this is the strangest Would you do me the favor to lend me your fork? Mary. With pleasure. [Gives it.] And [tears a second play-bill in two] here's my plate. Peter. Allow me. [Helps her.] Well, fate is strange and capricious. Now, if any one had told me this morning that I should have supped with a lovely young girl tête-à-tête Mary. Well, it's nothing very extraordinary or frightful for you. Peter. [eating.] Oh! my poor chest. [Aside.] I have certainly a palpitation of the heart! wish she wouldn't look at me so. [Pours out water. Mary. I beg your pardon, but you will leave me no water. Peter. I require it all-I've a fire to extinguish. Mary. Well, your situation may be strange, but mine is far more so, to pass a night in a bachelor's apartment, tête-à-tête with a young man within a few days of my marriage. Peter. Indeed! you are then about to be married? Of course it's a love match? Heigho! Mary. Why that is my intended is a very respectable, tolerably well-looking young man. Peter. But his mind-that is the point. Mary. Oh! you mean his wit-his cleverness! as to that he has given good proofs by cutting out a rival who had prior right to my hand. Peter. And was the latter fool enough to allow himself to be supplanted? May I ask you to lend me the knife? Mary. [laughs.] Oh! he made way for him in the most amiable manner. Will you lend me your spoon? Peter. I drink to the health, not of mine, but your spoon, for he must have been one to have thus given you up. [They laugh. Mary. He must have been rather soft. Peter. Do tell me all about it-it will amuse me, [aside] and keep me from thinking of more dangerous matters. Mary. Nay, don't interrupt me. Well, you see this condition did not at all daunt my young man. Peter. Hem! the clever young man you spoke of? [Aside.] Hang him! Mary. Yes! so he arranged so well, that the other Peter. Meaning the soft fool, your cousin? Mary. Has formally rejected me and thus made the property mine. Ha, ha, ha! Peter. [aside.] Double Iago! Mary. But you can never guess the mode he took to effect his object. You would die with laughing if you heard it. Peter. [savagely.] I've no doubt I should-pray tell it me-you've no idea how interested I am. Mary. Imagine, he made poor Peter believe— Peter. Peter? Mary. Yes, Peter-poor Peter, as Edward calls him-he made him believe he was in a consumption. Ha, ha, ha! Peter. [dropping his glass.] And he made him believe this without any foundation? Ha, ha, ha! Mary. To be sure he did, and poor Peter Follet swallowed it all, and at once fancied himself an invalid. Peter. And you really think there was nothing the matter with him? Mary. No more than there is with you or me; so to get rid of him, Edward Brown— Peter. Hang Edward Brown! Mary. Now come-it's not a pretty name, but it's not so bad-well, to get rid of him, he sent him traveling to every watering-place in England, and next month means to send him to Madeira-is it not funny? [She laughs heartily. PETER tries, but fails. Peter. [aside.] I shall choke with rage. [Aloud.] Devilish funny! [Aside.] What an ass I have been! Mary. The poor fellow is only allowed to eat vegetables and drink water; he goes to roost with the cocks and hens. Oh, can you conceive how a man can be Peter. Such a d- -d fool! Mary. [laughing.] Nay, don't be too severe on the unfortunate simpleton. Peter. [in a rage, forgetting himself.] Yes, I'll soon show him I'm no invalid! Mary. Gracious goodness! what's the matter? Peter. [in a gruff voice, walking up and down.] Yes, yes! I'll show him my strength is not gone! I'll annihilate him-me consumptive, indeed! Mary. [alarmed.] Do tell me, sir-I'm afraid I've offended you. [Aside.] He's decidedly mad. Peter. Then I may indulge in my fondest dreams. Oh, Charlotte, Mary, Jane, how I have slighted thee; but I'll make up for it all now-yes, I can drink, too. [Pours out two glasses rapidly and drinks them.] Devilish good, upon my life. Mary. [aside.] Unhappy lunatic! he's evidenta drunkard also. Mary. You must know, then, I live at Reading-ly Mary. Indeed, I have a small property in the neighborhood which I inherit from an old uncle who died in India-the knife, if you please-he left it to me on condition that I should marry my cousin; if not, I am to forfeit it, unless, indeed, he rejects me Peter. [uneasily.] Stay, stay-I would ask Peter. Yes, I don't care; I can [Walks up to her. Mary. [frightened.] Sir-sir! [Retreats. Peter. Send me to Madeira, indeed! Diet me on green food-fool that I have been-egad, I'll begin a new life! [Rushes at MARY, who runs screaming round the table; he pursues her; she throws down the chairs; he jumps over them; by accident he breaks the dispatch box; she seizes the key and rushes to the door. Mary. Thank providence, I'm saved! Peter. No, no, I'll not let you. [Runs after her; slips over a chair; falls into a seat.] Oh, oh! I've sprained my ankle-I've lamed myself for life. Mary. I'm glad of it. Peter. I can't move. Mary. Serves you right. Peter. [cries as if in great pain.] Oh, oh! Peter. No, go along; mock me as much as you like. Mary. I don't mock you; I'm really very sorry. Do I look like a savage? Peter. No, I wish you did, and then I should not regret your departure so much. Good-by! Mary. Nay! I won't go while you are in pain. Peter. How kind! [Aside.] Hang it, she's the loveliest woman I ever saw! Charlotte is not to Mary. Pardon me; he has light hair. Peter. Ah, carrots! I have you there. I know something of him; rather knock-kneed-speaks with a Scotch accent, and takes snuff all day. Mary. Why, I must confess but I must not listen to this. [Takes away her arm; he affects to be falling; she runs up and gives it him again. Peter. Now instead of this poor devil, if you would only deign to look upon a handsome, fresh, strong, hearty young man-you understand? hem! Mary. Eh? Peter. Hush! [A knock at the door.] Some one knocks. Mary. It's Edward Brown. Peter. Yes, Edward -done Brown! Voice. [outside.] Miss Mary, are you ready? I've a cab at the door. Mary. La, I had forgotten all about him. Peter. Had you? That's all right, then. Voice. [outside.] The cabman can't wait-so make haste; the train starts in twenty minutes. Peter. [in a gruff voice.] You may send him away-we shan't go. Voice. [outside.] Holloa, what's that? A man locked up in Mary's room? Peter. You mistake, my excellent friend, Mary is locked up in mine. Voice. [outside.] Villain, villain ! Peter. Pray be calm; I'm not in a passion. Voice. [outside.] Tell me your name. I insist on satisfaction! Your name, sir, I say! Peter. [thrusting his card under the door.] There it is. Peter Follet, at your service-late your consumptive patient. Mary. Yes, my dear cousin Peter. Voice. [beating and kicking the door.] Done! By all the powers I'm done Peter. Aye, done and done; enough between two gentlemen; but it's a cowardly trick to strike and kick a poor inoffensive door. Mary. Then after all you are— Peter. Your cousin Peter; rather soft, perhaps rather easily deceived on some points-but no longer an invalid; strong as a horse, and as to love I'm[Rushes towards her. Mary. [surprised.] But what has become of your lameness? Peter. [capering about.] My darling little wife that is to be-oh! Mary. [slyly.] Your wife? You have then got over your fear of matrimony? Peter. Good fortune, good address, well known Peter. What! after talking with you, supping in London, and considered, I think, rather favora-with you, singing with you, and-eh! you won't bly by his friends. Mary. And where am I to find this paragon? Peter. [falling on his knees.] Here, here, here! Mary. But Peter. [starting up.] No buts; I have been a butt long enough. Yes, my friend, Edward Brown. Mary. You are then say no? Mary. I will not, but still this has been such a queer courtship. Peter. But still it may have an agreeable termination if you and our friends before us will excuse any little impropriety that may have resulted from being "LOCKED IN WITH A LADY.” THE END. COSTUMES.-MODERN. THE NEW YORK DRAMA TRAGEDIES, A CHOICE COLLECTION OF COMEDIES, WITH FARCES, ETC., CASTS OF CHARACTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c., ADAPTED TO THE HOME CIRCLE, PRIVATE THEATRICALS, AND THE AMERICAN STAGE. Osrick.. Priest. Marcellus... Bernardo. Francisco.. First Actor.. Second Actor First Grave-Digger.. Second Grave Digger... Ghost of Hamlet's Father. Queen... 44 Archer. Webster. "Coveney. "J. Stark. F. G. Maynard. " G. F. Learock. "J. P. Denel. "N. Decker. "S. W. Glenn. .Mrs. Glover. Miss Povey. H. A. Weaver. Miss Mary Wells. Bella Pateman. Master Frank Little. Nobles, Lords. Courtiers, Ladies, Guards. Pages, Priests, etc. Actress.. EXITS AND ENTRANCES.-R. means Right, L. Left; R. D. Right Door, L. D. Left Door; S. E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. D. Middle Door. RELATIVE POSITIONS.-R. means Right; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C. Hor. What, has this thing appeared again tonight? Ber. I have seen nothing. Mar. [L. C.] Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, Right Centre; L. C. Left Centre, &c. The reader is supposed to be on the That are so fortified against our story, Mar. It is offended Ber. See it stalks away. Hor. Stay; speak, speak, I charge thee, speak! Is not this something more than fantasy? Hor. [R.] I might not this believe, Mar. [c.] Is it not like the king? Such was the very armor he had on, When he the ambitious Norway combated. Mar. Thus, twice before, and jump at this dead hour, With martial stalk he hath gone by our watch. Hor. In what particular thought to work I know not; But in the gross and scope of mine opinion, But soft; behold! lo, where it comes again! to R. Stay, illusion! [GHOST crosses If thou hast any sound or use of voice, [GHOST stops at R. If thou art privy to thy country's fate, Or, if thou hast uphoarded in thy life For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, We do it wrong, being so majestical, To offer it the show of violence. Ber. It was about to speak when the cock crew. Hor. [R.] And then it started like a guilty thing Upon a fearful summons. I have heard The cock, that is the trumpet of the morn, But look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, Let [L. C.] us impart what we have seen to-night [Exeunt L. SCENE II.-The Palace. Flourish of Trumpets. Enter POLONIUS, the KING, QUEEN, HAMLET, LADIES and ATTENDANTS, L., LAERTES, R. King. [c.] Though yet of Hamlet, our dear brother's death, The memory be green; and that it us befited To bear our hearts in grief, and our whole kingdom To be contracted in one brow of woe; Your leave and favor to return to France; To show my duty in your coronation; And bow them to your generous leave and pardon. King. Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? Pol. He hath, my lord; I do beseech you, give him leave to go. And thy best graces; spend it at thy will. Ham. [aside.] A little more than kin, and less than kind. King. How is it that the clouds still hang on you? Ham. Not so, my Lord; I am too much i' the sun. Queen. Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted color off, Ham. Aye, madame, it is common. Why seems it so particular with thee? Ham. Seems, madame! nay, it is; I know not seems. 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, To give these mourning duties to your father; To do obsequious sorrow; but to persevere This unprevailing woe, and think of us Hor. Indeed, my lord, it followed hard upon. Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. I pray thee, stay with us-go not to Wittenberg. I think it was to see my mother's wedding. Thaw, and resolve itself into a dew! A little month; or ere those shoes were old She married with my uncle, My lord? Ham. In my mind's eye, Horatio. Hor. I saw him once; he was a goodly king. Ham. [L. c.] He was a man, take him for all in all, I shall not look upon his like again. Hor. [R. C.] My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. Ham. [L.] Saw! who? Hor. My lord, the king, your father. Hor. Season your admiration for awhile Ham. [c.] For heaven's love, let me hear. Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, Armed at point, exactly cap-a-pie, Appears before them, and, with solemn march, Almost to jelly with the act of fear, Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me My father's brother; but no more like my father And I with them, the third night, kept the watch; Then I to Hercules. It is not, nor it cannot come to, good, But break my heart; [L.] for I must hold my Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS and BERNARDO, R. Hor. The same, my lord, and your poor ser vant ever. Ham. [R.] Sir, my good friend, I'll change And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio?- Mar. [R.] My good lord— Ham. [c.] I am very glad to see you-good But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? Ham. I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow- Where, as they had delivered, both in time, The apparition comes. Ham. [to BERNARDO and MARCELLUS, R.] Mar. My lord, upon the platform where we Ham. Did you not speak to it? Hor. [L.] My lord, I did; But answer made it none; yet once, methought, Ham. 'Tis very strange. Hor. As I do live, my honored lord, 'tis true; Ham. [R. c.] Indeed, indeed, sirs; but this Hold you the watch to-night ? Mar. My lord, from head to foot. Hor. Oh, yes, my lord, he wore his beaver up. |