PHŒBE. 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 PHŒBE 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.
PHŒBE runs in, L. door in flat, with candle, throws open the window, and looks downwards.
PHŒBE. 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.
PHŒBE. 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.
PHŒBE. Nonsense! you’d better stop where you are.—Hark! some one’s corning; lie down again and don’t move!