JONES. I blushed, sir, and answered that you did not, but that you
intended to do so.
FLE. You did right, Jones. In future I will write only blank verse,
and you shall blush no more.
JONES. If you will permit, sir, I will give you a subject.
FLE. Well, let us see what it is.
JONES. Would it not be something new and original to work up a servant
whose sentiments are above his situation?
[_Bell rings._
FLE. Some one rang.
JONES. I'll attend to it, sir.
FLE. Go, then. (_aside_) What a life! what a life!
JONES. (_returning_) Oh, sir!
FLE. Still here?
JONES. "I'm struck with your charms"--is it refined English?
FLE. (_bell rings_) Attend to the bell.
JONES. (_returning_) Is it more refined--"I am smitten with your
charms?" (_bell rings violently._)
FLE. Devil take it, they'll pull the bell down.
JONES. I'm going, sir! (_aside._) Shall I put smitten or struck? I
must toss up for it, heads or tails.
[_Exit door, C._
FLE. If I allow this woman to play the part, she'll ruin the piece.
_Enter BELGRAVE, C._
BEL. Good morning. Do you take me for a man that can be easily imposed
on? No; can't humbug me!
FLE. What do you mean? (_coldly_) I'm delighted to see you.
BEL. This explains the promptitude with which I was admitted.
FLE. (_satirically_) By-the-bye, you have come most opportunely. I
have to thank you for persuading me to confide an important character
to Miss Constance Belmour--that was a grand idea of yours.
BEL. Capital, was it not?
FLE. (_satirically_) I was charmed with her at rehearsal just now.
Luckily I can undo what is done. I mean to take the part away from
her.
BEL. A brilliant idea that, I must confess, and any one but me would
let you follow your bent.
FLE. What do you say?
BEL. It is useless to disguise matters. I know all. Can't humbug me.
FLE. What do you know?
BEL. All! (_showing bouquet._) Here is your bouquet, returned like a
dishonest bill--no effects.
FLE. My bouquet?
BEL. Do you deny that you sent these flowers to Constance?
FLE. I'm in a nice humour to send her flowers. I am going to write to
her.
BEL. To anyone else you please, but not to her; this rage is all
moonshine. Can't humbug me!
FLE. Moonshine is it?
BEL. You are in love with Constance, and you would have us believe you
intend taking this part from her and lose by the change.
FLE. I will soon prove that.
BEL. I am not a man to be easily imposed on. Can't humbug me!
FLE. This is folly. It was not I who sent the bouquet.
BEL. Not you?
FLE. On my honour!
BEL. Then I will find out if I go to every flower-shop in London.
FLE. Do, my good fellow, do.
BEL. I will, depend on it. I will not rest until I have discovered the
truth. I will know who sent this bouquet. Adieu. I am not a man to be
easily imposed on. Can't humbug me!
[_Exit C._
FLE. Now there goes a man determined to make himself miserable. To win
Constance from him would be no very difficult task. The day before
yesterday I spoke to her, she was not at all coy, and when I took her
hand in mine----it is true that this act of sensibility has borne its
fruits. Till then her rehearsing was very so so. But since she
imagined I was fascinated by her coquetry, she has not rehearsed at
all. Love is evidently no friend of mine. Once a man gets his legs
entangled in the steel traps of a crinoline it's all over with him. So
I'll pluck up resolution, and inform this popular lady that I will
relieve her from the part. (_Writes._) "My dear young lady." Hum! It
is rather difficult to write disagreeably to a woman whose hand you
have pressed in yours but two days since. "My dear." (_A rap at door
C._) Come in. (_Rap repeated._) Come in.
_Enter HOLDER with manuscript C._
HOL. (_at door_) It's me, sir.
FLE. Oh! good day, Mr. Holder.
HOL. Do I disturb you?
FLE. No. Come in.
HOL. Here is your manuscript. I have copied it all but the last scene,
which you did not give me.
FLE. Here it is. I had some corrections to make.
HOL. Shall I take it home with me and finish it?
FLE. No, no. Copy it here; it will not take ten minutes.
[_He looks over the MS._
HOL. Is it readable?
FLE. It is beautifully clear.
HOL. You flatter me. I know it is only good feeling induces you to
give me your manuscripts to copy.
FLE. No, Mr. Holder, no.
HOL. But for you I should have starved.
FLE. Starved! Die of hunger in wealthy London!
HOL. It is true, though; that day when you found me almost fainting
near the stage-door of the theatre.
FLE. Ah! what the devil were you doing there?
HOL. I was waiting.
FLE. Waiting? For what?
HOL. (_quickly_). Nothing. I expected nothing. I, I came there by
accident, because I had not strength to go any further. Ah! sir, I
wish I was enabled to prove to you that I am not ungrateful.
FLE. Do not mention it.
HOL. But I will mention it. Why yesterday I received through you a
guinea for copying a comedy--a guinea, sir, a whole guinea. I have not
been so rich for many a day.
FLE. (_laughing._) Which you doubtless invested in stocks.
HOL. No sir, roses.
FLE. Roses! and you spoke of starving.
HOL. It was for another, and I may never have the means again.
Self-denial was, in this instance, a pleasure to me.
FLE. Well, well, privately as politically, I suppose you have a right
to do what you like with your own.
HOL. Ah! if you only knew--no matter. Your piece is very pretty.
FLE. You like it?
HOL. Yes; perhaps I am presuming in giving an opinion.
FLE. Not at all. I rather like it.
HOL. It's very pretty. There is one part in particular that affected
me to tears.
FLE. Which was that?
HOL. The scene where the father finds his daughter.
FLE. (_aside_). The very part that Miss Constance Belmour absolutely
murders.
HOL. It's fine, very fine! The father speaks as a father should; I, if
I found myself in a similar situation, I feel I should express myself
exactly as you have written.
FLE. The eulogium pleases me infinitely.
HOL. I have read that scene over at least ten times. I know it by
heart.
FLE. Indeed!
HOL. Let me see--"My child! my child! come to my arms. It is you alone
can efface the sufferings of twenty years!"
FLE. That's it; that's just what I mean.
HOL. That scene requires to be well acted.
FLE. Does it not?
HOL. Well acted by the man, and well acted by the lady, in particular.
FLE. (_aside_) He's quite right.
HOL. The lady has but one word to say, but one exclamation: "My
father!" but the success entirely depends upon the manner of her
giving it.
FLE. You are right, and I shall hesitate no longer. (_Writes._) "My
dear Miss Belmour,--It is quite impossible"----
HOL. Miss Belmour! Did you say Miss Constance Belmour?
FLE. Yes, I cast her this part--I am writing to relieve her of it.
HOL. Take the part from her? from Constance--christened during the run
of the _Love Chase._
FLE. Your "Father!" has decided me.
HOL. My "Father!" decided you? In opposition to Knowles's most
beautiful creation? You shall write no such thing.
FLE. What!
HOL. Take this part from her, give it to another, and humiliate her.
You must not write. Why would you take it from her?
FLE. Because she'll murder it.
HOL. Murder it! poor child! The part contains sentiments she is a
stranger to. She does not appear to feel sufficiently strong the
expression, "My father!" Who knows? perhaps she has never known a
father, or a father's love.
FLE. You seem quite affected.
HOL. You will not write? If you take this part from her I shall hate
you--to know that you caused her pain through what I have said. It
would drive me mad--it would kill me!
FLE. What did you say?
HOL. Pay no attention to what I say--my head is a little shaky.
Promise me, only promise me, you will not take this part from her. She
will play it admirably--beautifully.