_Enter PHOEBE, hurriedly._
PHOEBE. (_to ARABELLA_) Here's your charwoman, Mrs. Sheepshanks, wants
to know if she can come up? (_not noticing ARABELLA, who, by signs,
tells her to hold her tongue_)
CAPT. H. What's that?--two Mrs. Longshanks! (_pulling back
TRIPTOLEMUS, who makes a sudden rush towards door_) Then who the devil
are you? (_tears off his bonnet veil, discovering TRIPTOLEMUS, who has
washed his face, and is now as pale as a sheet_) Ah! (_in a voice of
thunder--TRIPTOLEMUS staggers, and falls into his arms_)
PHOEBE. Triptolemus!
CAPT. H. My young jackanapes again, and sailing under false colours.
_TRIPTOLEMUS here makes a sudden bolt, but is stopped by the
CAPTAIN--in the struggle, TRIPTOLEMUS slips out of his gown, which
remains in CAPTAIN'S hands, and leaves TRIPTOLEMUS in his trousers and
waistcoat, with a very ample crinoline over them--he then makes a rush
to the door, meeting LUKE SHARP as he enters, carrying a tray, on
which are a pie, plates, and glasses, upsets him and the contents of
the tray--the CAPTAIN again seizes TRIPTOLEMUS, who retreats backwards
struggling with the CAPTAIN, when close to the window, TRIPTOLEMUS
loses his balance, and falls backwards through the window, with great
smash of glass--ARABELLA and PHOEBE each scream with all their might,
and fall into different chairs--LUKE SHARP shouts "Police," &c.,
&c.--the scene is shut in with a pair of flats representing_
SCENE THIRD.--_A Landing Place on Second Floor. Door at C.; landing
place window at R._
_PHOEBE runs in, L. door in flat, with candle, throws open the window,
and looks downwards._
PHOEBE. I don't see anything of him.--Why, what's that huddled up in a
lump in the corner of the balcony?--it's he! (_calling_) Hist, hist,
Triptolemus! are you dead or alive?
TRIPTOLE. (_outside, in a plaintive voice_) I won't be positive; I
think I'm rather more alive of the two.
PHOEBE. Very well then, Mr. Triptolemus Brown, perhaps you'll
condescend to explain why you thought proper to dress yourself up in
Miss Arabella Hardaport's clothes.
TRIPTOLE. I'll explain everything, if you'll only help me out of this
infernal balcony; I don't care how--a ladder, a fire escape, a
balloon, a pair of stilts--anything! or call a cab, and I'll jump into
it through the roof.
PHOEBE. Nonsense! you'd better stop where you are.--Hark! some one's
corning; lie down again and don't move!
_LUKE SHARP, his hair dishevelled, his cravat awry, and with
TRIPTOLEMUS'S hat and coat in his hand, enters hurriedly, followed by
ARABELLA, L. door in flat._
ARABEL. Don't make a disturbance, Mr. Sharp, and I'll explain
everything.
SHARP. Then begin with these here articles of male attire--this coat,
this hat--how did they come for to be in your apartment? they can't be
your aunt's, and you ain't got a uncle! then whose is 'em?--why don't
you answer--whose is 'em?
ARABEL. I shall not condescend to answer you, sir.
SHARP. You won't! then nothing remains for me but to precipitate
myself _h_eadlong into the _a_rea below! (_rushing to window_)
ARABEL. (_pulling him back_) Don't be a fool!
PHOEBE. (_ditto_) Don't be ridiculous!
SHARP. (_looking down, and seeing TRIPTOLEMUS on the balcony_) What's
that?--a _i_ndividual without a coat and hat--it's he! (_shouting down
to TRIPTOLEMUS_) Holloa, you sir, below! I'm only sorry that I'm _u_p
_h_ere, and you're down there!
TRIPTOLE. (_without_) Are you? we'll change, if you like; you come
down here, and I'll go up there--ha, ha!
SHARP. (_in a fury, rolls TRIPTOLEMUS'S coat up in a lump and flings
it down to him_) Take that!
TRIPTOLE. (_without_) Thank you.
SHARP. (_still more furious_) And that! (_crushing the hat, and
flinging it at TRIPTOLEMUS_)
TRIPTOLE. (_without_) Thank you again. Anything more?
SHARP. (_furiously_) You want something more, eh? Then you shall have
it.
_Runs out at L. side._