PHOEBE. Well!
ARABEL. I _am_ so puzzled which gown to put on; I know I look best in
my peach blossom silk that cousin George gave me; and yet I ought to
wear my light blue satin, for cousin Frederick's sake.
PHOEBE. (_aside_) Forty! (_aloud_) Well, I'll step down with you; but
I can't stop long.
_They both go out at L. C._
_Here TRIPTOLEMUS BROWN is seen to get out of one of the chimney pots,
and then to clamber in at the window in a very excited and exhausted
state--his dress, face and hands, covered with patches of soot--he is
without his hat._
TRIPT. Wheugh! I've done it! I don't know how, but done it I have.
Talk of exploring the interior of Africa! pooh! that's a joke to the
inside of a chimney! (_wiping his face with his handkerchief--shaking
his coat, &c._) Well, if this is the hospitality that the Metropolis
offers to a youthful and inoffensive chemist and druggist, I shan't
avail myself of it again in a hurry. I left Cambridge for London this
morning, in consequence of a telegraphic message I received from my
uncle, Cockletop, grocer and cheesemonger--to catch the train, I lost
my breakfast; the only available refreshment was a cigar and box of
lozenges; under the influence of these exhilirating sweetmeats, I soon
found myself at the abode of my aforesaid uncle Cockletop, who, on my
taking a chair on a Cheshire cheese, at once informed me that his
motive in telegraphing for me, was to unite me in the bonds of wedlock
with a certain Miss Caroline Bunny; his words literally transfixed me
to my chair--my cheese I mean. I was about to tell him that the object
of my unalterable affection was Phoebe Furbelow, when he cut me short
by directing me to betake myself and carpet bag to No. 17,
Compton-street, Soho--there it is-- (_pointing out of the window_)
where he had secured me a small but airy back room, immediately under
the tiles; telling me to make myself as smart as possible, in order
that he might take me with him to a ball, which, it seems, the father
of my _intended intended_ is to give this evening. I promised implicit
obedience, and proved it, by starting off in the opposite direction
for Cranbourne-alley, where Phoebe told me she pursued the art of
bonnet-making. I found the shop, and was endeavouring to catch a
glimpse of her beloved profile, when I suddenly received a terrific
blow--from a foot--behind--which almost sent me head-first through the
shop window. I turned round and found myself face to face with a
ferocious looking individual, almost as tall as the lamp-post, and
considerably stouter. (_mechanically wiping his face with the linen he
takes out of the clothes basket, and blackening it_) Well, my first
impulse was to come Tom Sayers over him, but it suddenly occurred to
me that the brawny ruffian before me might be a husband and a father,
I therefore spared him, and walked slowly away--as fast as my legs
could carry me! but he overtook me at the door of my lodgings. How I
got up three flights of stairs, I don't know; but I'd no sooner
precipitated myself into my attic, and bolted the door, then a voice
demanded instant admission. Instinctively I seized the poker, the
poker reminded me of the fireplace, the fireplace of the chimney--away
I flew--up the flue, and I was saved! (_wiping his face again with the
clean linen, and blackening it_) I wonder if the bulky miscreant is
still there? (_looking out at window_) I do declare he's actually
lighted the fire! I see the smoke coming out of the chimney! Ecod!
then I'm well out of it! Goodness gracious! (_wipes his face with the
clean linen_) what can I have done to this sanguinary vampire? The
only thing I can think of, is that he may have been poorly at
Cambridge, and that I may have sent him pills that made him poorlier!
PHOEBE. (_without_) Now, uncle, I never can carry down that large
basket of clothes by myself--do come and help me! (_comes in at little
door, L. C._)
TRIPTOLE. That voice!
PHOEBE. (_stumbling over the linen which TRIPTOLEMUS has thrown about
stage_) Heyday! who can have been tumbling all the nice clean linen
about? One of those horrid cats, I'll be bound!
TRIPTOLE. (_imitating the mewing of a cat_) Miow, miow!
PHOEBE. There he is. (_turning and seeing TRIPTOLEMUS_) No--mercy on
us! it isn't a cat--it's a man! Help! thieves! police, police!
(_screaming_)
TRIPTOLE. Hush! don't make a noise! Phoebe, don't you know me? I'm
Triptolemus--your own Triptolemus, just arrived from Cambridge to see
you, by the flue--I mean the train.
PHOEBE. Triptolemus! how did you get here?
TRIPTOLE. I'll tell you another time. Phoebe, if you love me, tell me
the address of the nearest magistrate, or show me his chimney pot,
that'll do as well.
PHOEBE. What do you mean?
TRIPTOLE. That my life is in jeopardy--that I'm in danger of being
torn to pieces, or swallowed whole--one or the other, perhaps both, if
you don't save me.--Ah, a door! (_about to run to small door, L. C._)
PHOEBE. No, no! you'll be sure to meet uncle Jonathan, and he has
sworn to murder you if he catches you here.
TRIPTOLE. Goodness gracious! I've only spoken to three of the male
population of London since I've been in it, and two of them seem bent
on my immediate destruction!
PHOEBE. (_running to door_) Ah! uncle has heard my cries for help, and
he's coming up; and I declare he's got a policeman with him!--hide,
hide yourself!
TRIPTOLE. Where--where? here's a clothes basket, but it isn't big
enough.
JONATH. (_without_) This way, policeman.
(_noise of steps up staircase heard--TRIPTOLEMUS dreadfully frightened
begins getting out of window_)
PHOEBE. Mind what you're about! you'll slip off the slanting roof and
be smashed to bits! (_by this time TRIPTOLEMUS has got out of the
window_) Where are you going?