COCKLE. Hush! Who is he—who is he?—that individual there? (pointing to TRIPTOLEMUS)
BUNNY. Playing at cribbage?
COCKLE. Yes; you may well called it cribbage! he’s cribbed my paletot, my snuff box, my comforter, my sixteen pairs of gloves! (pointing to gloves on the floor)
BUNNY. (suddenly) And my wig!
COCKLE. Hush, no noise; everything must be done quietly. (beckons the GUESTS mysteriously, who advance, wondering, points to TRIPTOLEMUS, then in a low tone) Take care of your pockets! (astonishment among the GUESTS)
CAPT. H. (who has finished shuffling the cards, slamming the pack violently on the table) Now, sir!
(TRIPTOLEMUS who has been nervously watching the whispering between BUNNY and COCKLETOP gives a violent start, and his wig, which is very much pulled over his eyes, falls forward on the table)
CAPT. H. (recognizing him, and in a voice of thunder) Mrs. Longshanks!
(TRIPTOLEMUS jumps up from the table, flings the wig in the CAPTAIN’S face and bolts, pursued by the CAPTAIN—cries of “Police! stop him! &c., &c.” from BUNNY and the GUESTS—TRIPTOLEMUS rushes towards C., is met by LUKE, JONATHAN, and PHŒBE—turns, sees the window, tries to get over the table to it, is caught and pulled back by the CAPTAIN—TRIPTOLEMUS grasping the table cloth, it is pulled off and the contents scattered about—general confusion, &c., &c.)
COCKLE. Triptolemus!