_Outside of Shop.--Shop shut up, with "Cotton, hosier, &c." written on
it.--The shop door to open.--Stage dark._
_Enter BOLT and MIZZLE._
BOLT. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
MIZ. Yes, you may ha! ha! ha!--but I don't see anything to ha! ha!
at--No, nor to ho! ho! at neither. I have done with fun for ever.
BOLT. Oh! don't say so! we are all right, you know. Have not I got
through beautifully? steered through all the windings and intricacies?
Do you suppose a skilful coachman would give a fig for a drive on a
smooth road?--No! it is turning the sharp corners that displays
ingenuity.
MIZ. Ah! but don't let me be on the box with the said ingenious
coachman.
BOLT. To be sure it was lucky we overtook young Rattle, with his
gig;--if he had not given us a lift, we should not have been home till
breakfast time.
MIZ. No!--and master would. A pretty figure we should have cut, if
we'd arrived in time to find him opening the shutters.
BOLT. Well! we'll go in. (_Feels in his pocket._) Here is the key--No!
curse it, there is not!--nor in this pocket!--nor in that!--Bobby, did
I give you the key?
MIZ. No! (_feeling._) No--I have not got it!
BOLT. The deuce! then we have--
MIZ. No! you are not going to say the key is lost? don't say so!
BOLT. It is though, whether I say so or not; and now I remember, I
heard something chink on the ground, when I jumped off the wall.
MIZ. Oh! what a devil of a chink that was!
BOLT. It's confoundedly awkward!
MIZ. _It_ is? I like that! _you_ were confoundedly awkward, you mean.
Why did not you do as I do when I carry money? put it in my breeches
pocket, and tie pack-thread round.
BOLT. Ha! ha! ha! Don't be down-hearted Bobby--here is a third
adventure;--it will have an end. But give me time, my boy, and I'll
get through anything.
MIZ. Then if you could get through that keyhole, it would be the best
exercise for your ingenuity. (_Rain heard._) 'Gad it is coming on to
rain like the very deuce!
BOLT. Here is a shelter; we'll get in here.
MIZ. Yes! and we shall soon have the pleasure of seeing Old Cotton let
himself in. Crikey! what a well-spent day!
(_Retire, 2 L. H._)
_Enter SAM NEWGATE, R.H., followed by PETER PRIG--they are dressed in
large great coats--NEWGATE has a lantern in his hand--the heads of two
pistols are just seen one from each pocket--PRIG has in his hand a
black mask._
NEW. Come along, man; don't crawl!
PRIG. I don't like it a bit.
NEW. Pshaw! you're not half a fellow,--you're a humbug, Peter.
BOLT. What two respectable individuals.
MIZ. Ah! you and I may look like them, if we take many more holidays.
NEW. The streets are clear.--So you were old Cotton's foreman?
PRIG. Yes, sure! I was, some time ago!
MIZ. Ah! Cotton's foremen are always pretty blossoms.
NEW. And you left this same old Cotton?
PRIG. He made me leave, on account of a little exercise of my
ingenuity. But you see I was down upon him.
NEW. What by taking the impression of the street-door key in wax?--But
why the devil did you not go in before?
PRIG. Cos I had not the pluck; when I met with you, I was inspired.
MIZ. I say, a'n't you fly?
BOLT. Oh, yes, I'm awake!
NEW. Don't look so frightened, man; I have a bull-dog in each pocket.
(_Shewing pistols._)
MIZ. Sanguinary wretch! Don't let him see you, Charley--he'll blow out
the few brains we have in no time.
NEW. (_Opening door with key._) Here, the door is open; follow
quick--good examples should always be followed.
(_Exit through door._)
PRIG. I'm bless'd if I like it. Oh--h! I must put on the mask; (_does
so;_) old Cotton knows my good-looking face as well as his own: if he
caught a glimpse of me, I should be caught too.
(_BOLT rushes on him, and throws him down._)
BOLT. So you are, my chicken; think yourself lucky if you don't get
your neck twisted.
MIZ. Bravo, Charley! I'll stand and see fair play.--Take care number
one don't come and fire some Dartford superfine in your face.
PRIG. Oh, sir, I am very unwilling to be hanged.
BOLT. Then, most worthy character, take off that mask, as I have
unmasked you--take off that great coat, as I have dismantled your
villainy--and your hat off, because, because, I want it--and now take
yourself off.
PRIG. Yes, yes! I'll reform!--I feel a moral change already.
(_Runs off, R._)
(_BOLT dressing in PRIG'S clothes._)
MIZ. Why, Charley, what the deuce are you doing now?
BOLT. Disguising myself as a thief.
MIZ. I have not the slightest doubt of your being able to support the
character. But why?
BOLT. To walk in after that respectable gentleman.
MIZ. I shall not follow--better be sent home than shot.
BOLT. There will be two of us.
MIZ. Yes, and he has two pistols--can blow out our brains in
succession!--Highly advantageous.
BOLT. (_Feeling pockets._) There are no weapons in these pockets. You
had better follow.
NEW. (_Within._) Where the devil are you?
MIZ. No I sha'n't.
NEW. (_Comes to door._) Come along, thick-headed snail!
BOLT. Snail, do you call me! Ah, you don't know what I am.
(_Exit through door._)
MIZ. (_Comes forward._) Egad, there's one chance,--when master goes
home, that fellow may shoot him through the head--he can't find me
out--that would be lucky: but one linendraper should never desert
another;--I'll go into the kitchen--get the poker, and surprise the
rascal in the rear.
(_Exit, D. F._)