UNDER THE ROSE.
(A Story in Scenes.)
Scene XI.—At the entrance to The Eldorado Music-hall. Time—Saturday evening, about 8.30. Mrs. Toovey, who has just alighted from a Waterloo bus, approaches; she wears a veil, under which her spectacles gleam balefully, and passes the various boards and coloured posters with averted eyes.
Mrs. Toovey (to herself). I'm late—I ought to have taken a cab, instead of that dawdling bus. Still, I shall be in plenty of time to surprise Pa in the very midst of his profligacy. (She looks around her.) Gilding, rosewood and mahogany panels, plush, stained glass—oh, the wicked luxury of it all! (She pushes open a swing door.) Where is the place you call Box C? I—I have to meet somebody there.
[She finds herself in a glittering bar, where she produces a distinct sensation among a few loungers there.
A Barmaid (tartly). There's no entrance to the music-hall this way. You've come to the wrong place.
Mrs. Toov. (with equal acidity). Ah, young woman, you need not tell me that! (She goes out with a withering glance, and hears stifled sniggers as the doors swing after her.) A drinking-bar on the very threshold to trap the unwary—disgraceful! (She tries the next door, and finds a stalwart official, in a fancy uniform.) Will you have the goodness to conduct me to Box C, instantly?
The Official. Next door, please, Ma'am. This only admits to the Grand Lounge.
Mrs. Toov. (to herself). The "Grand Lounge," indeed! (She opens another door, and finds a Pay-box, where she addresses the check-taker through the pigeon-hole.) I want to go to Box C. I've asked for it at I don't know how many places, and——
Checktaker (politely). I'm really afraid you'll have to ask again, Ma'am. This is the Promenade. Box-office next entrance.
Mrs. Toov. (to herself, indignantly). I only hope they make it as difficult for other people to get in as they do for me! So Pa comes here to lounge and promenade, does he? Oh, let me only catch him, I'll send him promenading! (She goes to the Box-office.) I want Box C, wherever that is.
Book-Keeper. Can give you Box D, if you like. Box C is reserved for this evening.
Mrs. Toov. (sharply). I am quite aware of that. For Mr. Theophilus Toovey. I have come to join him here.
Book-K. (referring to book). It is entered in that name, certainly; but—hem—may I ask if you belong to Mr. Toovey's party?
Mrs. Toov. (crushingly). No doubt you consider that his wife has no claim to—— Most certainly I belong to his party.
Book-K. That is quite sufficient, Madam. (To Attendant.) Show this lady to Box C. (To himself, as Mrs. T. follows the Attendant up some velvet-covered stairs.) Well, it's no business of mine; but if Mr. Toovey, whoever he is, isn't careful what he's about, he may be sorry for it—that's all!
Mrs. Toov. (to herself). They never even asked for my ticket. Pa's evidently well known here! (To Attendant.) A programme? with pictures of dancing girls all over it! You ought to be ashamed to offer such things to a respectable woman!
Att. (surprised). I've never heard them objected to before, Ma'am. Can I bring you any refreshments? (Persuasively.) Bottle-ale or stout? Lemonade and brandy? Whisky and soda?
Mrs. Toov. Don't imagine you can tempt me, man. I've been a total abstainer ever since I was five!
Att. (opening box-door). Indeed, Ma'am. I suppose now you 'aven't mistook this for Exeter 'All?—because it ain't!
Mrs. Toov. I am in no danger of making that mistake! (She enters the box.) I am here before Pa after all. What a gaudy, wicked, glaring place to be sure! Ugh, this filthy tobacco; it chokes me, and I can scarcely see across the hall. Not that I want to see. Well, if I sit in the corner behind the curtain I shan't be seen myself. To think that I—I—should be here at all, but the responsibility is on Pa's head, not mine! What are those two girls singing about on the stage? They are dressed decently enough, I'll say that for them, though pinafores and baby bonnets at their age are ridiculous.
[She listens.
The Sisters Sarcenet (on stage). You men are deceivers and awfully sly. Oh, you are!
Male portion of audience (as is expected from them). No we aren't!
The Sisters S. (archly). Now you know you are!
You come home with the milk; should your poor wife ask why,
"Pressing business, my pet!" you serenely reply.
When you've really been out on the "Tiddle-y-hi!" Yes, you have!
Male audience (as before). No, we've not!
The Sister S. (with the air of accusing angels). Why, you know you have!
Mrs. Toov. (to herself). It's to those young women's credit that they have the courage to come here and denounce the men to their faces—like this. And it's gone home to them, too! they're shouting out "Over!" (Here the Sisters suddenly turn a couple of "cart-wheels" with surprising unanimity, amidst roars of applause.) Oh, the shameless minxes! I will not sit and look on at such scandalous exhibitions. (She moves to the corner nearest the stage, and turns her back upon the proceedings.) How much longer will Pa compel me to assist at such scenes, I wonder? Why doesn't he come? Where is he now? (Bitterly.) No doubt on what those vulgar wretches would call the "Tiddle-y-hi!" (The Brothers Bimbo, Eccentric Clowns, appear on the stage.) I can't sit here in a corner looking at nothing. If I do see anything improper, Theophilus shall answer for it. (She changes her place again.) Acrobats—well, they're inoffensive at least. Oh, I do believe one of the nasty things is climbing up to the balcony; he's going to walk along here!
First Brother Bimbo (on stage, to his confrère, who is balancing himself on the broad ledge of the box tier). Ohè—'old up, there. Prenny garde! Ah, il tombera! There, I told yer so! (The Second Brother B. has reached the front of Mrs. Toovey's box, where he pretends to stumble.) Oh, le pover garçong, look at 'im now! Come back, do! Ask the lady to ketch 'old of your trousers be'ind!
Mrs. Toov. (to the Second Brother, firmly). Don't expect me to do anything of the sort. Go back, as your brother asks you to, you silly fellow. You shouldn't attempt such a foolhardy thing at all!
Second Br. B. (to the First). Oh, my! There's such a nice young lady in here; she's asking me to come in and set along with her! May I?
[He lets himself drop astride the ledge, and wags his head at Mrs. Toovey, to her intense horror.
Mrs. Toov. (in an audible undertone). If you don't take away that leg at once, I'll pinch it!
Second Br. B. Eh? Not now; my brother says I mustn't. "Come round afterwards?" Well, well, we'll see! (He springs up on the ledge again, and kisses his hand to her.) Goo'bye, ducky! 'Ave no fears for me. Whoo-up!
"Goo'bye, ducky! Ave no fears for me!"
[He continues his tour of the balcony, amidst roars of laughter.
Mrs. Toov. (falling back in the box, speechless with fury). And this is the treatment Pa exposes me to—all those unmanly wretches laughing at me! But I don't care; here I stay till Pa comes. Oh, this smoke; I shall be poisoned by it soon! Upon my word, there's a bold hussy coming on to sing, in a man's coat and black satin knee-breeches. I'll stop my ears; they shall see there's one woman here who respects herself! (She does so, during that and the subsequent performances; an hour passes.) How much longer am I to be compelled to remain here? This is terrible; three creatures in tight red suits, got up to look like devils! I wonder they've no fear of being struck dead on the stage! They're standing on each other's stomachs. I daren't look on at such blasphemy! I'll take off my spectacles; then, at least, my eyes won't be offended by seeing anything distinctly! (She removes her glasses, and replaces them in their case, which she lays on the box-ledge.) They're gone, thank goodness. What's this? There's someone opening the box-door. Pa—at last! Well, I'm ready for him!
[She stiffens in her chair.
Attendant's Voice (outside). This is Box C, Miss. Can I bring you any refreshments? Bottle-ale, stout, lemonade, Miss?
A Female Voice. I—I don't know. There's a gentleman with me; he'll be here directly; he only stopped to speak to somebody. Ah, he's coming now.
Mrs. Toov. "Miss"?! This is Pa's party, then. Oh!!
[A quietly dressed, and decidedly good-looking girl enters, and starts on seeing that the box is already occupied.
Mrs. Toov. (rising in towering wrath). You were not expecting to find me here, Miss, I've no doubt?
The Girl (sitting down). No; Phil didn't say there would be anyone else; but any friend of his I'm sure——
Mrs. Toov. Phil? you dare to call him "Phil!" Do you know who I am, you insolent girl, you? I am his Wife!
The Girl. His wife? I don't believe it. Are you sure you don't mean his mother. My Phil married to you, indeed—a pretty story!
Mrs. Toov. (trembling with rage). Go out of this box instantly, or I'll make you!
The Girl. I shall do nothing of the kind. Wait till my friend comes, and we'll soon——(As the door opens.) Phil, Phil, here's an abusive old female here who pretends she is your wife, and wants to order me out. I believe she must either be intoxicated or out of her senses!
Mrs. Toov. (pouncing upon the newcomer and boxing his ears soundly). Is she? it is you who are out of your senses, Pa! Take that—and that—and now come home with me, do you hear?
The Newcomer (with his hand to his cheek). "Pa," am I? I thought I was your husband just now! Well, I must have married before I was born, either way. And now, perhaps, you'll explain what all this means?
Mrs. Toov. (faintly). Oh, my goodness! I've made a dreadful mistake; it isn't Pa! Let me go—let me go!
The Newc. (putting his back against the door). Not yet, Ma'am; not yet. You don't go like this; after insulting this young lady, to whom I've the honour of being engaged, and telling her you're my wife, and then smacking my face in her presence. I've my dignity to consider, and I want satisfaction out of you. Come, we won't have a row here, for the sake of this young lady; just step out into lobby here, and I'll give you in charge for assault. Stay where you are, Milly, my dear. Now, Ma'am, will you go, or shall I send for a constable? (Mrs. T. totters out, protesting incoherently, and begging to be released.) Well, I don't want to spoil my evening's pleasure on your account. You give me your name and address, and I'll simply summon you for assault; which is more than you deserve. If you won't, I'll charge you!
Mrs. Toov. (reluctantly). Oh, indeed it was an acc——I will not give you my name. Yes, yes, I will; anything to get out of this horrible place. (The young man produces a pencil, and pulls down his left shirt cuff.) Mrs.—Too—no, I don't mean Too—Tomkinson Jones—The—the Laburnums—U—upper Tooting. There, now are you satisfied?
The Young Man (recording it). Thank you, that's all I require. You'll hear from me later on. Good evening!
Mrs. Toov. (as she crawls down the staircase). I have only just saved myself by a—a fib! And I haven't even found Pa out. But I will. I'll go straight home and sit up for him!
End of Scene XI.
