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THE WOLVES AND THE LAMB.
have it for the asking ; because the SCENE. — MILLIKEN's villa at Rich- letters addressed to Horace Milliken,
mond ; two drawing-rooms opening into Esq., might as well be addressed John one another. The late Mrs. Milli. Howell, Esq., for I read 'em, I put KEN's portrait over the mantelpiece; ber 'em. I know his affairs better
'em away and docket 'em, and remembook-cases, writing-tables, piano, news- than he does: his income to a shilling, papers, a handsomely furnished saloon. The back-room opens, with very large like. I may call Mr. Milliken what
his tradesınen, wear his coats if I windows, on the lawn and pleasure
, I please ; but not you, you little scamp ground; gate, and wall - over which the heads of a cab and a carriage are
of a clod-hopping ploughboy. Know seen, as persons arrive. Fruit, and a your station and do your business, or ladder on the walls. A door to the you don't wear them buttons long, I dining-room, another to the sleeping- promise you. [Exit Page.
Let me go on with the paper: apartments, fc.
(reads). How brilliant this writing John. – Everybody out; governor is! Times, Chronicle,” “Daily in the city; governess (heigh-ho!) News,” they're all good, blest if they walking in the Park with the chil- ain't. How much better the nine dren; ladyship gone out in the car- leaders in them three daily papers is, riage. Let's sit down and have a look than nine speeches in the House of at the papers. Buttons ! fetch “ The Commons ! Take a very best speech Morning Post” out of Lady Kickle in the 'Ouse now, and compare it with bury's room. Where's “ The Daily an article in “ The Times !” I say, News," sir?
the newspaper has the best of it for PAGE. — Think it's in Milliken's philosophy, for wit, novelty, good
sense, too. And the party that writes John. — Milliken! you scoundrel ! the leading article is nobody, and the What do you mean by Milliken? chap that speaks in the House of Speak of your employer as your gov- Commons is a hero. Lord, Lord, ernor, if you like, but not as simple how the world is ’umbagged ! Pop’Milliken. Confound your impudence! lar representation ! what is pop'lar you'll be calling me Howell next. representation? Dammy, it's a farce.
PAGE. — Well! I didn't know. Hallo ! this article is stole! I rememYou call him Milliken.
ber a passage in Montesquieu uncomJOAN. — Because I know him, be- monly like it. [Goes and gets the book. cause I'm intimate with him, because As he is standing upon sofa to get it, there's not a secret he has but I may and sitting down to read it, Miss PRIOR 24 *
and the Children have come in at the rid. What can the creature mean? garden. Children pass across stage. But I forgot - I am only a governess. Miss Prior enters by open window, A governess is not a lady
a gorbringing flowers into the room.
erness is but a servant - a governess JOHN, – It is like it. [He slaps the is to work and walk all day with the book, and seeing Miss PRIOR who en- children, dine in the school-room, and ters, then jumps up from sofa, saying come to the drawing-room to play the very respectfully,)
man of the house to sleep. A governess Joun. I beg your pardon, Miss. is a domestic, only her place is not the
Miss P. (sarcastically). - Do I dis- servants' hall, and she is paid not turb you, Howell ?
quite so well as the butler who serves John. - Disturb! I have no right her her glass of wine. Odious! to say
- a servant has no right to be George! Arabella! there are those disturbed, but I hope I may be par- little wretches quarrelling again! doned for venturing to look at a vol- [Exit. Children are heard calling out ume in the libery, Miss, just in refer- and seen quarrelling in garden.) ence to a newspaper harticle - that's John (re-entering]. - See where she all, Miss.
moves! grace is in all her steps. Miss P. - You are very fortunate 'Eaven in her high — no-a-heaven in in finding any thing to interest you in her heye, in every gesture dignity the paper, I'm sure.
and love — ah, I wish I could say John. — Perhaps, Miss, you are it! I wish you may procure it, poor not accustomed to political discussion, fool ! She passes by me she and ignorant of ah - I beg your tr-r-amples on me. Here's the chair pardon: a servant, I know, has no she sets in skisses it). Here's the right to speak. [Exit into dining- piano she plays on. Pretty keys, room, making a low bow.)
them fingers outhivories you! When Miss PRIOR. The coolness of she plays on it, I stand and listen at some people is really quite extraordi- the drawing-room door, and my nary! the airs they give themselves, heart thr-obs in time! Fool, fool, the way in which they answer one, fool! why did you look on her, John the books they read ! Montesquieu : Howell! why did you beat for her, "Esprit des Lois!” (takes_book up, busy heart! You were tranquil till which J. has left on sofa. I believe you knew her! I thought I could the man has actually taken this from have been a-happy with Mary till the shelf. I am sure Mr. Milliken, then. That girl's affection soothed or her ladyship, never would. The me. Her conversation didn't amuse other day “Helvetius was found in me much, her ideers ain't exactly Mr. Howell's pantry, forsooth! It is elevated, but they are just and proper. wonderful how he picked up French | Her attentions pleased me. She whilst we were abroad. “Esprit des ever kep' the best cup of tea for me. Lois !” what is it? it must be dread- She crisped my buttered toast, or fully stupid. And as for reading mixed my quiet tumbler for me, as I "Helvetius” (who, I suppose, was a sat of hevenings and read my news Roman general), I really can't under- paper in the kitching. She respected stand how - Dear, dear! what airs ihe sanctaty of my pantry. When these persons give themselves! What I was a-studying there, she never will come next? A footman - I beg interrupted me. She darned my Mr. Howell's pardon - a butler and stockings for me, she starched and confidential valet lolls on the drawing- folded my chokers, and she sowed on room sofa, and reads Montesquieu ! the habsent buttons of which time Impudence! And add to this, he and chance had bereft my linning: follows me for the last two or three She has a good heart, Mary has. I months with eyes that are quite hor- know she'd get up and black the
boots for me of the coldest winter MARY. — Not in a free country, I mornings. She did when we was in should hope, John Howell — no such humbler life, she did.
a thing. A place is a place, and I Enter MARY.
know mine, and am content with the
spear of life in which it pleases heaYou have a good heart, Mary! ven to place me, John : and I wish
MARY. - Have I, dear John ? you were, and remembered what we (sadly.]
learned from our parson when we went John. — Yes, child - yes. I think to school together in dear olıl Pigeona better never beat in woman's bosom. cot, John - when you used to help You're good to everybody - good to little Mary with her lessons, John, and your parents whom you send half fought Bob Brown, the big butcher's your wages to: good to your employ boy, because he was rude to me, ers whom you never robbed of a half- John, and he gave you that black hi. penny.
John. - Say eye, Mary, not heye MARY (whimpering]. – Yes, I did, [gently). John. I took the jelly when you MARY. — Eye; and I thought you were in bed with the influenza; and never looked better in all your life brought you the pork-wine negus. than you did then : and we both took
John. - Port, not pork, child. service at Squire Milliken's — me as Pork is the hanimal which Jews dairy-girl, and you as knife-boy; and ab'or. Port is from Oporto in Por- good masters have they been to us tugal.
from our youth hup: both old Squire MARY (still crying). — Yes, John; Milliken and Mr. Charles as is masyou know every thing aʼmost, John. ter now, and poor Mrs. as is dead,
John. — And you, poor child, but though she had her tantrums — and I little! It's not your heart you want, thought we should save up and take you little trump, it's education, Mary : “ The Milliken Arms” – and now we it's information : it's head, head, head! have saved up- and now, now, now You can't learn. You never can -oh, you are a stone, a stone, a learn. Your ideers ain't no good. stone! and I wish you were hung You never can hinterchange 'em with round my neck, and I were put down mine. Conversation between us is the well! There's the hup-stairs bell. impossible. It's not your fault. [She sturts, changing her manner as she Some people are born clever ; some hears the bell, and exit.) are born tall, I ain't tall.
JOHN (looking after her]. - It's all Mary. - Ho! you're big enough true. Gospel-true. We were chilfor me, John. [Offers to take his hand.] dren in the same village - sat on the
John. - Let go my 'and my same form at school. And it was for a-hand, Mary! I say, some people her sake that Bob Brown the butchare born with brains, and some with cr's boy whopped me.
A black eye! big figures. Look at that great ass, I'm not handsome. But if I were Bulkeley, Lady K.'s man - the be- ugly as the Saracen's 'Ead, ugly as sotted, stupid beast! He's as big as that beast Bulkeley, I know it would a life-guardsman, but he ain't no be all the same to Mary. She has more education nor ideers than the never forgot the boy she loved, that ox he feeds on.
brought birds’-nests for her, and spent MARY. – Law, John, whathever his halfpenny on cherries, and bought do you mean?
a fairing with his first half-crown John. Hm! you know not, little a brooch it was, I remember, of two one! you never can know. Have billing doves a-hopping on one twig, you ever felt the pangs of imprisoned and brought it home for little yellowgenius? have you ever felt what 'tis haired, blue-eyed, red-cheeked Mary. to be a slave ?
Lord, Lord !' I don't like to think
how I've kissed 'em, the pretty cheeks! | enchantress, this gazelle, I forgot they've got quite pale now with cry- poor little Mary Barlow, how could I ing - and she has never re- help it? I say, how the doose could proached me, not once, the trump, I help it? the little tr-rump!
Enter Lady KICKLEBURY, BULKELEY Is it my fault (stamping] that Fate has separated us? Why did my
following with parcels and a spaniel. young master take me up to Oxford, LADY K. – Are the children and and give me the run of his libery and the governess come home? the society of the best scouts in the JOHN. Yes, my lady [in a perUniversity? Why did he take me fectly altered tone). abroad? Why have I been to Italy, LADY K. Bulkeley, take those France, Jummany with him - their parcels to my sitting-room. manners noted and their realms sur John. Get up, old stoopid. Push veyed, by jingo! I've improved my- along, old daddylonglegs (aside to self, and Mary has remained as you BULKELEY). was.
I try a conversation, and she LADY K. - Does anyone dine can't respond. She's never got a here to-day, Howell ? word of poetry beyond Watt's Ims, John. – Captain Touchit, my lady. and if I talk of Byron or Moore to LADY K. – He's always dining her, I'm blest if she knows any thing here. more about 'em than the cook, who John. – My master's oldest friend. is as hignorant as a pig, or that beast
LADY K. - Don't tell me. He Bulkeley, Lady Kick's footman. Above comes from his club. He smells of all, why, why did I see the woman smoke; he is a low, vulgar person. upon whom my wretched heart is Send Pinhorn up to me when you go fixed forever, and who carries away down stairs. [Exit Lady K.) my soul with her — prostrate, I say, JOHN. -- I know. Send Pinhorn prostrate, through the mud at the to me, means, Send my bonny brown skirts of her gownd ! Enslaver! hair, and send my beautiful complexwhy did I ever come near you? Oion, and send my figure — and, O enchantress Kelipso! how you have Lord ! O Lord ! what an old tigress got hold of me!' It was Fate, Fate, that is! What an old Hector! How Fate. When Mrs. Milliken fell ill of she do twist Milliken round her scarlet fever at Naples, Milliken was thumb! He's born to be bullied by away at Petersborough, Rooshia, women: and I remember him henlooking after his property. Her for- pecked - let's see, ever since - ever ing woman fled. Me and the govern- since the time of that little gloveress ess remained and nursed her and the at Woodstock, whose picter poor Mrs. children. We nursed the little ones M. made such a noise about when she out of the fever. We buried their found it in the lumber-room. Heh! mother. · We brought the children her picture will be going into the home over Halp and Happenine. I lumber-room some day. M. must nursed 'em all three. I tended 'em marry to get rid of his mother-in-law all three, the orphans, and the lovely and mother over him: no man can gu-gu-governess. At Rome, where stand it, not M. himself, who's a Job she took ill, I waited on her; as we of a man. Isn't he, look at him ! went to Florence, had we been at- [As he has been speaking, the bell has tacked by twenty thousand brigands, rung, the Page has run to the gardenthis little arm had courage for them door, and MILLIKEN enters through the all! And if I loved thee, Julia, was garden, laden with a hamper, bandbox, I wrong? and if I basked in thy and cricket-bat]. beauty day and night, Julia, am I not MILLIKEN. - Why was the carriage a man? and if, before this Peri, this I not sent for me, Howell? There
was no cab at the station, and I have box for my lady, I suppose, sir ? had to toil all the way up the hill (Looks in) -- Turban, feathers, bugles, with these confounded parcels of my marabouts, spangles — doose knows lady's.
what. Yes, it's for her ladyship. [To John. - I suppose the shower took Page.] Charles, take this band-box off all the cabs, sir. When did a man to her ladyship's maid. [To his masever git a cab in a shower ? - or a ter.] What sauce would you like with policeman at a pinch - or a friend the turbot? Lobster sauce or Holwhen you wanted him - or any thing landaise ? Hollandaise is best - most at the right time, sir?
wholesome for you. Anybody beMILLIKEN. – But, sir, why didn't sides Captain Touchit coming to dinthe carriage come, I say ? JOHN. You know.
MILLIKEN.- No one that I know MILLIKEN.— How do you mean I of. know ? confound your impudence ! John. - Very good. Bring up a John. — Lady Kicklebury took it bottle of the brown hock? He likes
your mother-in-law took it - went the brown hock, Touchit does. [Exit out a visiting — Ham Common, Pe- John.] tersham, Twick'nam — doose knows
Enter Children. They run to MILLIwhere. She, and her footman, and her spanʼl dog. MILLIKEN. Well, sir, suppose
Вотн. . - How d’you do, Papa ! her ladyship did take the carriage? How do you do, papa! Hlasn't she à perfect right? And if MILLIKEN. Kiss your old father, the carriage was gone, I want to Arabella. Come here, George know, John, why the devil the pony- What? chaise wasn't sent with the groom? GEORGE. Don't care for kissing Am I to bring a bonnet-box and a - kissing's for gals. hamper of fish in my own hands, I brought me that bat from London? should like to know?
MILLIKEN. Yes. Here's the John. – Heh! [laughs).
bat ; and here's the ball (takes one from MILLIKEN. – Why do you grin, pocket] — and you Cheshire cat?
GEORGE. — Where's the wickets, John. - Your mother-in-law had Papa. 0-0-0 — where's the wickets? the carriage ; and your mother sent [howls.] for the pony-chaise. Your Pa want MilliKEN. — My dear, darling ed to go and see the Wicar of Putney. boy! I left them at the office. What Mr. Bonnington don't like walking a silly papa I was to forget them ! when he can ride.
Parkins forgot them.
j Mr. Bonnington ride, sir, as long as say! Turn him away! (He stamps. there's a carriage in my stable? Mr. MILLIKEN. - What! an old, faithBonnington has had the gout, sir ! ful clerk and servant of your fathet Mr. Bonnington is a clergyman, and and grandfather for thirty years past' married to my mother. He has every An old man who loves us all, and has title to my respect.
nothing but our pay to live on? * John. — And to your pony-chaise
ARABELLA. — Oh, you naught
boy! MILLIKEN. - And to every thing ĞEORGE. — I ain't a naughty boy. he likes in this house, sir.
ARABELLA. – You are a naughty John. – What a good fellow you boy. are, sir! You'd give your head off GEORGE. - He! he! he! he! your shoulders, that you would. [Grins at her.] Is the fish for dinner to-day? Band MILLIKEN.-Hush, children! Here,
- yes, sir.