Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible, including non-standard spelling and punctuation. Some
changes have been made. They are listed at the end of the text.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
THE MINOR DRAMA.
No. CCCCI.
A
CHRISTMAS CAROL;
OR, THE
MISER'S WARNING!
(ADAPTED FROM CHARLES DICKENS' CELEBRATED WORK.)
BY
C. Z. BARNETT,
_Author of Fair Rosamond, Farinelli, The Dream of Fate,
Oliver Twist, Linda, The Pearl of Savoy, Victorine of
Paris, Dominique, Bohemians of Paris, &c._
+-------+
Samuel French (Canada) Limited | PRICE |
480-486 University Avenue | |
TORONTO - CANADA | |
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NEW YORK | LONDON
SAMUEL FRENCH | SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD.
PUBLISHER | 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET
25 WEST 45TH STREET | STRAND
_THE MIDDLE WATCH_
A farcical comedy in 3 acts. By Ian Hay and Stephen King-Hall. Produced
originally at the Times Square Theatre, New York. 9 males, 6 females.
Modern costumes and naval uniforms. 2 interior scenes.
During a reception on board H. M. S. "Falcon," a cruiser on the
China Station, Captain Randall of the Marines has become engaged to
Fay Eaton, and in his enthusiasm induces her to stay and have
dinner in his cabin. This is met with stern disapproval by Fay's
chaperon, Charlotte Hopkinson, who insists that they leave at once.
Charlotte, however, gets shut up in the compass room, and a gay
young American widow accepts the offer to take her place, both
girls intending to go back to shore in the late evening. Of course,
things go wrong, and they have to remain aboard all night. By this
time the Captain has to be told, because his cabin contains the
only possible accommodations, and he enters into the conspiracy
without signalling the Admiral's flagship. Then the "Falcon" is
suddenly ordered to sea, and the Admiral decides to sail with her.
This also makes necessary the turning over to him of the Captain's
quarters. The presence of the ladies now becomes positively
embarrassing. The girls are bundled into one cabin just opposite
that occupied by the Admiral. The game of "general-post" with a
marine sentry in stockinged feet is very funny, and so are the
attempts to explain matters to the "Old Man" next morning. After
this everything ends both romantically and happily.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.
_NANCY'S PRIVATE AFFAIR_
A comedy in 3 acts. By Myron C. Fagan. Produced originally at the
Vanderbilt Theatre, New York. 4 males, 5 females., 2 interior scenes.
Modern costumes.
Nothing is really private any more--not even pajamas and bedtime
stories. No one will object to Nancy's private affair being made
public, and it would be impossible to interest the theatre public
in a more ingenious plot. Nancy is one of those smart,
sophisticated society women who wants to win back her husband from
a baby vamp. Just how this is accomplished makes for an
exceptionally pleasant evening. Laying aside her horn-rimmed
spectacles, she pretends indifference and affects a mysterious
interest in other men. Nancy baits her rival with a bogus diamond
ring, makes love to her former husband's best friend, and finally
tricks the dastardly rival into a marriage with someone else.
Mr. Fagan has studded his story with jokes and retorts that will
keep any audience in a constant uproar.
(Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) PRICE 75 CENTS.
A
CHRISTMAS CAROL;
OR, THE
MISER'S WARNING!
(ADAPTED FROM CHARLES DICKENS'S CELEBRATED WORK.)
BY
C. Z. BARNETT,
_Author of Fair Rosamond, Farinelli, The Dream of Fate,
Oliver Twist, Linda, The Pearl of Savoy, Victorine of
Paris, Dominique, Bohemians of Paris, &c._
NEW YORK | LONDON
SAMUEL FRENCH | SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD.
PUBLISHER | 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET
25 WEST 45TH STREET | STRAND
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Ebenezer Scrooge, the Miser Mr. R. Honner
Frank Freeheart, his Nephew Mr. J. T. Johnson
Mr. Cheerly Mr. Hawkins
Mr. Heartly Mr. Green
Bob Cratchit, Scrooge's Clerk Mr. Vale
Dark Sam Mr. Stilt
CHARACTERS IN THE DREAM.
Euston, a ruined Gentleman Mr. Lawler
Mr. Fezziwig Mr. Dixie
Old Joe, a Fence Mr. Goldsmith
Ghost of Jacob Marley Mr. Morrison
Ghost of Christmas Past Mr. Lewis
Ghost of Christmas Present Mr. Heslop
Ghost of Christmas to Come * * *
Dark Sam Mr. Stilt
Peter, Bob's Eldest Son Miss Daly
Tiny Tim Master Brady
Mrs. Freeheart Mrs. Hicks
Ellen, Scrooge's former love Mrs. H. Hughes
Mrs. Cratchit Mrs. Daly
First produced at the Royal Surrey Theatre, Feb. 5th, 1844.
COSTUME.
SCROOGE--Brown old-fashioned coat, tea colour breeches, double-breasted
white waistcoat. 2nd.--Dressing gown and slippers.
FRANK--Private dress.
MR. CHEERLY--Blue coat, cord breeches, and gaiters.
MR. HEARTLY--Green coat, black breeches, top boots.
BOB CRATCHIT--Black old-fashioned coat, black trousers.
DARK SAM--Dark green shooting coat and breeches, ragged. Second
dress--Shabby black coat.
EUSTON--Shabby private clothes.
MR. FEZZIWIG--Black coat, black breeches, double-breasted waistcoat, and
striped stockings.
MARLEY'S GHOST--Slate coloured coat, waistcoat, and pantaloons, black
boots, white frill, white band.
CHRISTMAS PAST--White dress trimmed with summer flowers, rich belt,
fleshings and sandals.
CHRISTMAS PRESENT--Long green robe, trimmed with ermine, flesh body and
legs, wreath round head.
CHRISTMAS TO COME--Very long black gown.
TINY TIM--Blue jacket and trousers.
ALL THE LADIES--Modern dresses.
A CHRISTMAS CAROL.
ACT I.
SCENE I.--_Chambers of SCROOGE, the Miser. One side of it is filled up
with a desk and high stool, the other is a fireplace, fire lighted.
Easy chair table, with candlestick upon it, etc., etc._
_SCROOGE, the Miser, discovered near fire. BOB CRATCHIT, writing near
desk, L. H. As the Curtain rises he descends from stool--approaches
fire to stir it._
SCROOGE. Bob--Bob, we shall be obliged to part. You'll ruin me in coals!
BOB. Ruin you--with such a fire in such weather! I've been trying to
warm myself by the candle for the last half hour, but not being a man
of strong imagination, failed.
SCR. Hark! I think I hear some one in the office. Go--see who it is.
BOB. (_Aside._) Marley's dead--his late partner is dead as a door nail!
If he was to follow him, it wouldn't matter much.
(_Exit 2 E. L. H._
SCR. Marley has been dead seven years, and has left me his sole
executor--his sole administrator--his sole residuary legatee--his sole
friend--his sole mourner! My poor old partner! I was sorely grieved at
his death, and shall never forget his funeral. Coming from it, I
made one of the best bargains I ever made. Ha, ha. Folks say I'm
tight-fisted--that I'm a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, clutching
miser. What of that? It saves me from being annoyed by needy men and
beggars. So, this is Christmas eve--and cold, bleak, biting weather it
is, and folks are preparing to be merry. Bah! what's Christmas eve to
me? what should it be to them?
_Enter FRANK and BOB, 2 E. L. H._
BOB. There's your uncle, sir. (_Aside._) Old covetous! He's worse than
the rain and snow. They often come down, and handsomely too, but Scrooge
never does!
(_Exit 2 E. L. H._
SCR. Who's that?
FRANK. A merry Christmas, uncle!
SCR. Bah! humbug!
FRANK. Uncle, you don't mean that, I'm sure.
SCR. I do. Merry Christmas! What right have you to be merry? You're poor
enough.
FRANK. (_Gaily._) Come, then, what right have you to be dismal! What
reason have you to be morose? You're rich enough.
SCR. Bah! humbug!
FRANK. Don't be cross, uncle.
SCR. What else can I be, when I live in such a world of fools as this?
Merry Christmas! Out upon Merry Christmas. What's Christmas time to you
but a time for paying bills without money--a time for finding yourself a
year older, and not an hour richer. If I could work my will, every idiot
who goes about with merry Christmas on his lips should be boiled with
his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart--he
should!
FRANK. Uncle!
SCR. Nephew, keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine.
FRANK. Keep it! But you don't keep it.
SCR. Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you. Much good it
has ever done you.
FRANK. There are many things from which I might have derived good by
which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest, but I
am sure I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round,
as a good time--a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only
time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women
seem by one consent to open their shut up hearts freely, and to think of
people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave,
and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys, and,
therefore, uncle, though it has not put a scrap of gold or silver in my
pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good, and I
say, Heaven bless it!
BOB. (_Looking in._) Beautiful--beautiful!
SCR. Let me hear another sound from you--(_To BOB._)--And you'll keep
your Christmas by losing your situation.
BOB. (_Aside._) He growls like a bear with a sore head! (_Disappears._)
SCR. You're quite a powerful speaker. I wonder you don't go into
Parliament.
FRANK. Don't be angry. Come--dine with me to-morrow.
SCR. No, no----
FRANK. But why not?
SCR. Why did you get married?
FRANK. Because I fell in love.
SCR. Because you fell in love! Bah! good evening.
FRANK. I want nothing--I ask nothing of you. Well, I'm sorry to find you
so resolute--we have never had any quarrel--I have made the trial in
homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my Christmas humour to the last--so,
a merry Christmas, uncle.
SCR. Good evening!
FRANK. And a happy new year!
SCR. Good evening!
_Enter BOB, 2 E. L. H._
FRANK. And a happy Christmas, and a merry new year to you, Bob Cratchit.
(_Shaking him by the hand._)
BOB. The same to you, sir, and many of 'em, and to your wife, and to
your darling children, and to all your friends, and to all you know, and
to every one, to all the world. (_Exit FRANK, 2 E. L. H._)
SCR. (_Aside._) There's another fellow, my clerk, with fifteen shillings
a week, and a wife and family, talking about a merry Christmas. I'll
retire to Bedlam.
BOB. Two gentlemen want you, sir, as fat as prize beef--shall I call 'em
in? (_Goes to side._) Walk this way if you please, gentlemen.
_Enter MR. CHEERLY and MR. HEARTLY, 2 E. L. H.,
with books and papers._
CHEER. Scrooge and Marley's--I believe I have the pleasure of addressing
Mr. Marley!
SCR. Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years.
CHEER. At this festive season of the year, it is more than usually
desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and
destitute--many thousands are in want of common necessaries--hundreds of
thousands are in want of common comfort, sir.
SCR. Are there no prisons? and the union workhouses, are they still in
operation?
CHEER. They are still--I wish I could say they were not.
SCR. The treadmill and the poor law are in full vigour then?
CHEER. Both very busy, sir.
SCR. Oh! I was afraid from what you said at first, that something had
occurred to stop them in their useful course. I'm very glad to hear it!
CHEER. Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer
of mind or body to the multitude, a few of us are endeavouring to raise
a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We
choose this time because it is a time of all others, when want is keenly
felt and abundances rejoice. What shall we put you down for?
SCR. Nothing!
CHEER. You wish to be anonymous?
SCR. I wish to be left alone. I don't make merry myself at Christmas,
and I can't afford to make idle people merry--I help to support the
establishments I have named--they cost enough--those who are badly off
must go there.
CHEER. Many can't go there--many would rather die!
SCR. If they'd rather die, they'd better do it, and decrease the surplus
population. However, it's not my business, so good evening, gentlemen.
CHEER. I am sorry we disturbed you. (_As they are about to exeunt, BOB
approaches them--SCROOGE retires up._)
BOB. Beg pardon, gentlemen, I've got an odd eighteen-pence here that I
was going to buy a new pair of gloves with in honour of Christmas day,
but my heart would feel warmer though my hands were colder, if it helped
to put a dinner and a garment on a poor creature who might need. There
take it.
CHEER. Such acts as these from such men as you sooner or later, will be
well rewarded.
BOB. This way, gentlemen. I feel as light as my four-and-ninepenny
gossamer! (_Exeunt 2 E. L. H._)
SCR. (_Coming down._) Give money--humbug! Who'd give me anything, I
should like to know?
_Re-enter BOB, 2 E. L. H._
BOB. A letter, sir. (_Gives it and retires up._)
SCR. (_Opens it--reads._) Ah! what do I see? the Mary Jane lost off the
coast of Africa. Then Frank is utterly ruined! his all was embarked on
board that vessel. Frank knows not of this--he will apply to me
doubtless--but no, no. Why should I part with my hard gained store to
assist him, his wife and children--he chooses to make a fool of himself,
and marry a smooth-faced chit, and get a family--he must bear the
consequences--I will not avert his ruin, no, not by a single penny.
BOB. (_Coming down._) Please, sir, it's nine o'clock.
SCR. Already! You'll want all day to-morrow, I suppose.
BOB. If quite convenient, sir.
SCR. It's not convenient, and it's not fair. If I was to stop
half-a-crown for it, you'd think yourself ill-used, I'll be bound, and
yet you don't think me ill used when I pay a day's wages for no work.
BOB. Christmas comes but once a year.
SCR. A poor excuse for picking a man's pockets every twenty-fifth of
December! Well, I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here all the
earlier next morning. Here's your week's money, fifteen shillings--I
ought to stop half-a-crown--never mind!
BOB. Thank you, sir! I'll be here before daylight, sir, you may depend
upon it. Good night, sir. Oh, what a glorious dinner Mrs. C. shall
provide. Good night, sir. A merry Christmas and a happy new year, sir.
SCR. Bah! humbug! (_Exit BOB, 2 E. L. H._) So--alone once more. It's a
rough night! I will go to bed soon--that will save supper. (_Takes off
his coat, boots, etc., and puts on morning gown and slippers, talking
all the time._) 'Tis strange now the idea of Marley is haunting me
to-night--everywhere I turn his face seems before me. Delusion--humbug!
I'll sit down by the fire and forget him. (_Takes basin of gruel from
hob._) Here's my gruel! (_Sits in easy chair by fire--puts on night cap,
and presently appears to dose. Suddenly a clanking of chains and ringing
of bells is heard--he's aroused, and looks up terrified._) That noise!
It's humbug! I won't believe it! (_The door slowly opens, and the GHOST
OF MARLEY glides in. A chain is round his body, and cash boxes, ledgers,
padlocks, purses, etc., are attached to it._) How now! What do you want
with me?
GHOST. Much.
SCR. Who are you?
GHOST. Ask me who I was.
SCR. Who were you, then. You're particular for a shade--I mean to a
shade.
GHOST. In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley. You don't believe in
me! Why do you doubt your senses?
SCR. Because a little thing affects them. A slight disorder of the
stomach makes them cheats. You may be an undigested bit of beef--a
fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave
about you, whatever you are.
GHOST. (_Unfastening the bandage round its head._) Man of the worldly
mind, do you believe me or not?
SCR. I do--I must! But why do spirits walk the earth? Why do they come
to me?
GHOST. It is required of every man that the spirit within him should
walk abroad among his fellow men, and travel far and wide--if not in
life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander
through the world, oh, woe is me!--and witness what it cannot share, but
might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness.
SCR. You are fettered!
GHOST. I wear the chain I forged in life--I made it link by link. Is its
pattern strange to you? Oh, no space of regret can make amends for one
life's opportunities misused.
SCR. But you were always a man of business----
GHOST. Business! Mankind was my business--charity, mercy, were all my
business. At this time of the year I suffered most, for I neglected
most. Hear me! I am here to-night to warn you that you have a chance and
a hope of escaping my fate. You will be haunted by three spirits----
SCR. I--I'd rather be excused!
GHOST. Without their visits you cannot hope to shun the path I tread.
Expect the first when the clock strikes one. Look to see me no more. For
your own sake, remember what has passed between us. (_Binds wrapper
round its head once more--slowly approaches the door and disappears.
SCROOGE follows the phantom towards the door._)
SCR. It is gone. The air seems filled with phantoms--shades of many I
knew when living--they all wear chains like Marley--they strive to
assist the poor and stricken, but in vain--they seek to interfere for
good in human nature, but have lost the power forever. (_The clock
strikes one--SCROOGE staggers to a chair--the room is filled with a
blaze of light--the GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST rises through trap--As
described in WORK, page 43._) Are you the spirit whose coming was
foretold to me?
1ST SPIRIT. I am!
SCR. Who and what are you?
1ST SPIRIT. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past. Your welfare--your
reclamation brings me here. Turn, and behold! (_The Stage, becomes
dark--a strong light is seen behind--the wall of the Miser's chamber
fades away and discovers a school-room--a child is seated reading by a
fire._) All have departed but this poor boy.
SCR. My poor forgotten self--and as I used to be!
1ST SPIRIT. Look again! (_A figure of ALI BABA is shown beyond the
CHILD._)
SCR. Why it's dear old honest Ali Baba! Yes, one Christmas time, when
yonder poor child was left alone, he _did_ come just like that! (_The
figures of VALENTINE and ORSON appear._) Ha! and Valentine and his wild
brother Orson, too! (_ROBINSON CRUSOE and FRIDAY appear._) Ha! and
Robinson Crusoe, and his man Friday! Poor boy! he was left alone, while
all the rest were making holiday. (_The figures of ALI BABA, etc.,
disappear. As he speaks, a little GIRL enters the school-room, and
approaches the BOY._)
GIRL. I am come to bring you home, dear brother--we are to be together
this Christmas, and be so merry! (_She leads him out. Scene fades
away._)
SCR. My sister! poor little Fanny!
1ST SPIRIT. A delicate creature, whom a breath might have withered. She
died a woman, and had, as I think, children.
SCR. One child!
1ST SPIRIT. True--your nephew. Know you this place? (_The Scene at back
is again lighted up, and discovers Fezziwig's warehouse. FEZZIWIG and
CHARACTERS grouped as in FRONTISPIECE of WORK. SCROOGE, as a young
man._)
SCR. Why, 'tis old Fezziwig, to whom I was apprenticed--he is alive
again! My fellow-apprentice, Dick Wilkins, too--myself, as I was _then_.
'Tis Christmas eve there. The happiness he gave at so small a price was
quite as much as though it cost a fortune. (_The tableau fades away. The
Stage becomes dark. Enter ELLEN in mourning. During the fading of the
tableau SCROOGE puts a cloak around him, etc., and seems a younger
man._) I feel as if my years of life were less. Ha! who is this beside
me?
1ST SPIRIT. Have you forgotten your early love?
SCR. Ellen!
ELLEN. Ebenezer, I come to say farewell forever! It matters little to
you--very little--another idol has displaced me, and if I can cheer and
comfort you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have no just
cause to grieve.
SCR. What idol has displaced you?
ELLEN. A golden one--the master passion. Gain alone engrosses you.
SCR. I have not changed towards you.
ELLEN. Our contract is an old one--it was made when we were both poor.
You are changed--I am not. That which promised happiness when we were
one in heart, is fraught with misery now we are two. How often and how
keenly I have thought of this I will not say. I _have_ thought of it,
and can release you.
SCR. Have I ever sought release?
ELLEN. In word--no, never!
SCR. In what, then?
ELLEN. In a changed nature--in an altered spirit--in every thing that
made my love of any worth or value in your sight. If this had never been
between us, tell me, would you seek me out, and try to win me now? Ah,
no!
SCR. You think not----
ELLEN. I would think otherwise if I could--but if you were free to-day,
can even I believe that you would choose a dowerless girl--you who weigh
everything by gain? Or did you so, do I not know your repentance and
regret would surely follow. I do--and I release you, with a full heart,
for the love of him you once were. You will forget all this--may you be
happy in the life you have chosen! (_She slowly exits R. H. SCROOGE
throws aside his cloak, and appears as before._)
SCR. Spirit, show me no more! Why do you delight to torture me?
1ST SPIRIT. One shadow more. She whom you resigned for gold--for
gain--for sordid ore--she you shall now behold as the tender wife of a
good and upright man--as the happy mother of smiling children. You shall
see them in their joyous home. Come, thou lonely man of gold--come!
SCR. No, no!
1ST SPIRIT. I told you these were the shadows of the things that have
been--that they are what they are do not blame me. Come----
SCR. No, no--I've seen enough--haunt me no longer! (_The Spirit seizes
him--he seizes the cap presses it upon the Spirit's head, who sinks
under it, and disappears in a flood of light while SCROOGE sinks
exhausted on the floor._)
SCENE II.--_A Street. Houses covered with snow._
_Enter DARK SAM, L. H._
SAM. It's very odd! I an't nimmed nothing to-night. Christmas eve,
too--when people's got sich lots of tin! But they takes precious good
care of it, 'cos I s'pose they thinks if they loses it, they shan't be
able to get no Christmas dinner. If I can't prig nothin', I'm sure I
shan't be able to get none. Unless this trade mends soon, I must turn
undertaker's man again. There is a chance, in that honourable calling of
a stray thing or two. Somebody comes! I wonder if I shall have any luck
now.
_Enter BOB, R. H._
BOB. I shall soon be home! Won't my Martha be glad to see me--and what a
pleasant happy Christmas Day we shall spend. What a dinner we shall
have! I've got fifteen shillings--my week's wages--and I'm determined to
spend every farthing of it. Won't we have a prime goose, and a
magnificent pudding! And then the gin and water--and oranges--and
the--oh, how jolly we shall be! And Tiny Tim, too--he never tasted goose
before--how he will lick his dear little chops at the sage and onions!
And as for Martha--my dear Martha, who is a dress-maker, and can only
come to see us once in about four months--she shall have the parson's
nose. Let me see--a goose will cost seven shillings--pudding
five--that's twelve. Oranges, sage and onions, potatoes, and gin, at
least three shillings more. Oh, there will be quite enough money, and
some to spare. (_During this speech SAM advances cautiously and picks
his pocket._)
SAM. (_Aside._) Some to spare! It can't fall into better hands than
mine, then!
(_Exit R. H._
BOB. I've a good mind to buy the goose going home; but then if it should
turn out fusty--I think I had better leave it for Mrs. C. The moment I
get home, I'll pop the money into her hands, and--(_Feeling in his
pockets._)--Eh?--what--what's this? Somebody has been having a joke at
my expense. Eh? my week's salary--my fifteen shillings--it's gone! I'm
ruined--lost----undone! My pocket has been picked! I've lost my
Christmas dinner before I've got it! Oh, how can I face Mrs. C., and
Bob, and Martha, and Tiny Tim! Oh, what can I do?
_Enter FRANK, L. H._
FRANK. What my worthy friend Bob Cratchit--how is this, man? you look
sorrowful, and on Christmas eve, too!
BOB. Some of those boys whom I was sliding with on the ice in Cornhill
must have done it.
FRANK. Done it! Done what, man?
BOB. Stole my Christmas dinner--my--salary--I mean my fifteen shillings,
that your uncle paid me not an hour ago.
FRANK. That's unfortunate!
BOB. Unfortunate! Think of Tiny Tim's disappointment--no goose--no
pudding--no nothing!
FRANK. Tiny Tim shall not go without his Christmas dinner notwithstanding
your loss--no, nor you either--nor any of your family, Bob Cratchit.
At such a time as this, no one should be unhappy--not even my
hard-hearted uncle, much less a worthy fellow like you. Here, Bob,
here's a sovereign--you can return it when my uncle raises your
wages--no thanks, but go and be as happy as you deserve to be--once
more, a merry Christmas to you!
(_Exit R. H._
BOB. He's a regular trump! I wanted to thank him, and couldn't find the
words! I should like to laugh, and I feel as if I could cry. If Tiny Tim
don't bless you for this my name's not Bob Cratchit! I've lost fifteen
shillings, and I've found a sovereign! (_Dances._) Tol lol li do! Oh,
Mrs. Cratchit! Oh, my little Cratchit! what a happy Christmas Day we
shall spend, surely! What a pity Christmas don't last all the year
round! (_Exit L. H._)
SCENE III.--_SCROOGE'S chamber, as before._
_SCROOGE discovered, sleeping in a chair. The Stage becomes suddenly
quite light, and the GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT discovered, as in
WORK, page 78, the wall at back covered with ivy, holly, and
mistletoe--heaped upon the floor, almost to form a throne, are
turkeys, geese, plum puddings, twelfth cake, etc._ (_See PAGE 78._)
2ND SPIRIT. Know me, man? I am the ghost of Christmas Present. Look upon
me. (_SCROOGE rises, approaches, and gazes at the figure._) You have
never seen the like of me before?
SCR. Never!
2ND SPIRIT. Have never walked forth with the younger members of my
family, meaning, for I am very young, my elder brothers born in these
latter years.
SCR. I'm afraid I have not. Have you had many brothers, Spirit?
2ND SPIRIT. More than eighteen hundred!
SCR. A tremendous family to provide for! (_The SPIRIT rises._) Spirit,
conduct me where you will--if you have ought to teach me, let me profit
by it. Why do you carry that torch?
2ND SPIRIT. To sprinkle the light and incense of happiness every
where--to poor dwellings most.
SCR. Why to poor ones most?
2ND SPIRIT. Because they need it most. But come--touch my robe--we have
much to see. (_As SCROOGE approaches nearer to him, the Scene changes._)
SCENE IV.--_A Bleak and Barren Moor. A poor mud cabin._ (_Painted in
the flat._)
_The SECOND SPIRIT and SCROOGE enter._
SCR. What place is this?
2ND SPIRIT. A place where miners live, who labour in the bowels of the
earth--they know me. See! (_As he speaks, the window is lighted from
within. The SPIRIT draws SCROOGE to window._) What seest thou?
SCR. A cheerful company assembled round a glowing fire--an old man and
woman, with their children, and children's children all decked gaily out
in their holiday attire. I hear the old man's voice above the howling of
the wind upon the barren waste; singing a Christmas song, while all
swell out the chorus.
2ND SPIRIT. Come, we must not tarry--we will to sea--your ear shall be
deafened by the roaring waters.
SCR. To sea? no, good Spirit!
2ND SPIRIT. See yonder solitary lighthouse built on a dismal reef of
sunken rocks. Here we men who watch the light, have made a fire that
sheds a ray of brightness on the awful sea, joining their horny hands
over the rough table where they sit, they wish each other a merry
Christmas in can of grog and sing a rude lay in honour of the time. All
men on this day have a kinder word for one another--on such a day--but
come--on--on! (_As he speaks the Scene changes._)
SCENE V.--_Drawing-room in FRANK FREEHEART'S house._
_FRANK, CAROLINE his wife, MR. CHEERLY, and male and female Guests
discovered--some are seated on a sofa on one side, others surround a
table on the other side. SCROOGE and the SPIRIT remain on one side._
(_At opening of Scene all laugh._)
FRANK. Yes, friends, my uncle said that Christmas was a humbug, as I
live! He believed it, too!
OMNES. More shame for him.
FRANK. He's a comical old fellow! However, his offences carry their own
punishment.
CHEER. He's very rich!
FRANK. But his wealth is of no use to him. He don't do any good with it.
He don't make himself comfortable with it. He hasn't the satisfaction of
thinking--ha, ha, ha!--that he is ever going to benefit us with it!
LADIES. We have no patience with him!
FRANK. But I have! I'm sorry for him! I couldn't be angry with him if I
tried. Who suffers by his ill whims? Himself! He loves a good
dinner--pleasant moments, and pleasanter companions than he can find in
his own thoughts, or in his mouldy chambers. He may rail at Christmas
till he dies, but he can't help thinking better of it, I defy him! If he
finds me going there, year after year and saying, Uncle Scrooge, how are
you? If it only puts him in the vein to leave his poor clerk fifty
pounds, that's something, and I think I shook him yesterday! (_All
laugh._) Well, he has given us plenty of merriment so here's his health.
Uncle Scrooge!
OMNES. (_Drinks._) Uncle Scrooge!
FRANK. A merry Christmas and a happy new year to him wherever he is!
SCR. Spirit, their merriment has made me so bright and gay, that I could
almost pledge them in return, and join in all their innocent mirth!
_A servant enters, L. H. and gives a letter to FRANK,
then exits._
FRANK. (_Opens it and reads. Aside._) Ah! what do I see, the vessel lost
at sea that bore my entire wealth within her! Then I'm a lost and ruined
man! (_His wife approaches him._)
CHEER. No ill news, I hope, Mr. Freeheart.
FRANK. (_Aside._) The stroke is sudden and severe but I will bear it
like a man! Why should I damp the enjoyment of those around by such ill
tiding? No, it is Christmas time--I will not broach such bad news
now--no--at least to-night. All shall be happy--nor word of mine shall
make any otherwise. (_To his friends._) Come, friends, let's have a
merry dance, shall we not?
OMNES. A dance! a dance! (_Short, Country Dance, in which SCROOGE joins
without being observed by the rest. Towards the conclusion of it the
SPIRIT advances--draws SCROOGE back from the group--a bright glow lights
up the Scene, as the SPIRIT and SCROOGE sink through the Stage unnoticed
by the groups._)
END OF ACT I.
ACT II.
SCENE I.--_Humble Apartment in BOB CRATCHIT'S House. Table, chairs,
etc., on._
_MRS. CRATCHIT and BELINDA CRATCHIT discovered laying the cloth. PETER
CRATCHIT is by fire. SCROOGE and the SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT
rise through the Stage, and stand aside and observe them._
SCR. So, this is my clerk's dwelling, Spirit--Bob Cratchit's. You
blessed it with the sprinkling of your torch as we passed the threshold.
Bob had but fifteen _Bob_ a week. He pockets on Saturdays but fifteen
copies of his Christian name, and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present
blessed his four-roomed house. (_Two of CRATCHIT'S younger children, BOY
and GIRL, run in._)
BOY. Oh, mother--outside the baker's we smell such a goose! It must have
been ours--no one has got such a goose. Oh, gemini! (_They dance round
the table in childish glee._)
MRS. C. Whatever has got your precious father, Bob, and Tiny Tim. And
Martha warn't as late this Christmas Day by half an hour!
_Enter MARTHA, L. H._
MART. Here's Martha, mother!
CHILDREN. Here's Martha, mother--hurrah! There's such a goose, Martha!
MRS. C. (_Kissing MARTHA, and assisting her off with her bonnet, etc._)
Why bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are!
MART. We'd a deal of work to finish up last night, and had to clear away
this morning, mother.
MRS. C. Well, never mind, so long as you are come. Sit ye down before
the fire, my dear, and have a warm. Lord bless ye!
CHILDREN. (_Looking off._) Father's coming! Hide, Martha, hide! (_MARTHA
runs behind closet door in F. BOB CRATCHIT enters with TINY TIM upon his
shoulder, L. H._)
BOB. (_Looking round._) Why, where's our Martha?
MRS. C. Not coming.
BOB. Not coming upon Christmas Day!
MARTHA. (_Running towards him._) Yes, dear father, yes. (_They
embrace._)
CHILDREN. Come, Tiny Tim, into the washhouse, to hear the pudding
singing in the copper! (_They carry TIM out--PETER exits L. H._)
MRS. C. And how did little Tim behave?
BOB. As good as gold. Somehow he gets thoughtful sitting by himself so
much, and thinks the sweetest things you ever heard! (_The CHILDREN
re-enter with TIM._)
CHILDREN. The goose! the goose! (_PETER re-enters carrying the goose--it
is placed on the table, etc. All seat themselves at table._)
SCR. Bob's happier than his master! How his blessed urchins, mounting
guard upon their posts, cram their spoons into their mouths, lest they
should shriek for goose before their turn arrives to be helped! And now,
as Mrs. Cratchit plunges her knife in its breast, a murmur of delight
arises round the board, and even Tiny Tim beats the table with the
handle of his knife, and feebly cries hurrah!
BOB. Beautiful! There never was such a goose. It's tender as a lamb, and
cheap as dirt. The apple sauce and mashed potatoes are delicious--and
now, love, for the pudding. The thought of it makes you nervous.
MRS. C. Too nervous for witnesses. I must leave the room alone to take
the pudding up and bring it in.
(_Exit L. H._
BOB. Awful moment! Suppose it should not be done enough? Suppose it
should break in turning out? Suppose somebody should have got over the
wall of the back yard and stolen it? (_Gets up, and walks about,
disturbed._) I could suppose all sorts of horrors. Ah! there's a great
deal of steam--the pudding's out of the copper! A smell like a washing
day--that's the cloth! A smell like an eating-house and a pastry cook's
door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that--that's the
pudding. (_MRS. CRATCHIT re-enters with pudding, which she places on
table. BOB sits._)
CHILDREN. Hurrah!
SCR. Mrs. Cratchit looks flushed, but smiles proudly, like one who has
achieved a triumph.
BOB. Mrs. Cratchit, I regard this pudding as the greatest success you
have achieved since our marriage.
MRS. C. Now that the weight's off my mind, I confess I had my doubts
about it, and I don't think it at all a small pudding for so large a
family.
BOB. It would be flat heresy to say so. A Cratchit would blush to hint
at such a thing!
SCR. Their merry, cheerful dinner's ended, but not their sweet,
enjoyment of the day. (_MRS. CRATCHIT, etc., clears the table. A jug and
a glass or two are placed on it. BOB fills the glasses._)
BOB. A merry Christmas to us all, my dear--heaven bless us! (_They drink
and echo him--TINY TIM is near his father, who presses his hand._)
SCR. Spirit tell me if Tiny Tim will live?
2ND SPIRIT. If the shadows I see remain unaltered by the future, the
child will die.
SCR. No, no--say he will be spared.
2ND SPIRIT. If he be like to die--what then? He had better do it, and
decrease the surplus population.
SCR. My own words!
2ND SPIRIT. Man--if man you be in heart, and not adamant--forbear that
wicked cant until you have discovered what the surplus is, and where it
is. Will you decide what men shall live--what men shall die? To hear the
insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry
brothers in the dust.
BOB. My dear, I'll give you, "Mr. Scrooge, the founder of the feast!"
MRS. C. The founder of the feast indeed! I wish I had him here--I'd
give him a piece of my mind to feast upon!
BOB. My dear--the children--Christmas Day----
MRS. C. It should be Christmas Day, I'm sure, on which one drinks the
health of such an odious, stingy, hard, unfeeling man as Mr. Scrooge.
You know what he is, Robert--no one better.
BOB. My dear--Christmas Day----
MRS. C. I'll drink his health for your sake not for his. Long life to
him! A merry Christmas and a happy new year! He'll be very merry and
very happy, no doubt! (_All drink._)
2ND SPIRIT. Your name alone has cast a gloom upon them. But they are
happy--grateful--pleased with one another.
SCR. And they look happier yet in the bright sprinkling of thy torch,
Spirit. (_As he speaks the Stage becomes quite dark. A medium descends,
which hides the group at table. SCROOGE and the SPIRIT remaining in
front._) We have seen much to-night, and visited many homes. Thou hast
stood beside sick beds, and they were cheerful--by struggling men, and
they were patient in their greater hope--by poverty, and it was rich. In
almshouse, hospital and jail--in misery's every refuge, thou hast left
thy blessing, and taught me thy precepts.
2ND SPIRIT. My life upon this globe is very brief--it ends to-night--at
midnight--the time draws near.
SCR. Is that a claw protruding from your skirts?
2ND SPIRIT. Behold! (_Two Children, wretched in appearance, appear from
the foldings of his robe--they kneel, and cling to him._) Oh, man--look
here!
SCR. Spirit, are they yours? (_See PLATE in WORK, page 119._)
2ND SPIRIT. They are man's--and they cling to me, appealing from their
fathers. This boy is Ignorance--this girl is Want. Beware all of their
degree--but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow is written
that which is doom, unless the writing be erased. Admit it for your
factious purposes, and bide the end.
SCR. Have they no regular refuge or resource? (_SCROOGE shrinks
abashed._)
2ND SPIRIT. Are there no prisons--no workhouses? Hark, 'tis midnight! I
am of the past! (_The CHILDREN exeunt--the SPIRIT disappears through
trap--at the same moment the GHOST OF CHRISTMAS TO COME, shrouded in a
deep black garment rises behind medium, which is worked off,
discovering_----