PHŒBE. Well!
ARABEL. I am so puzzled which gown to put on; I know I look best in my peach blossom silk that cousin George gave me; and yet I ought to wear my light blue satin, for cousin Frederick’s sake.
PHŒBE. (aside) Forty! (aloud) Well, I’ll step down with you; but I can’t stop long.
They both go out at L. C.
Here TRIPTOLEMUS BROWN is seen to get out of one of the chimney pots, and then to clamber in at the window in a very excited and exhausted state—his dress, face and hands, covered with patches of soot—he is without his hat.
TRIPT. Wheugh! I’ve done it! I don’t know how, but done it I have. Talk of exploring the interior of Africa! pooh! that’s a joke to the inside of a chimney! (wiping his face with his handkerchief—shaking his coat, &c.) Well, if this is the hospitality that the Metropolis offers to a youthful and inoffensive chemist and druggist, I shan’t avail myself of it again in a hurry. I left Cambridge for London this morning, in consequence of a telegraphic message I received from my uncle, Cockletop, grocer and cheesemonger—to catch the train, I lost my breakfast; the only available refreshment was a cigar and box of lozenges; under the influence of these exhilirating sweetmeats, I soon found myself at the abode of my aforesaid uncle Cockletop, who, on my taking a chair on a Cheshire cheese, at once informed me that his motive in telegraphing for me, was to unite me in the bonds of wedlock with a certain Miss Caroline Bunny; his words literally transfixed me to my chair—my cheese I mean. I was about to tell him that the object of my unalterable affection was Phœbe Furbelow, when he cut me short by directing me to betake myself and carpet bag to No. 17, Compton-street, Soho—there it is— (pointing out of the window) where he had secured me a small but airy back room, immediately under the tiles; telling me to make myself as smart as possible, in order that he might take me with him to a ball, which, it seems, the father of my intended intended is to give this evening. I promised implicit obedience, and proved it, by starting off in the opposite direction for Cranbourne-alley, where Phœbe told me she pursued the art of bonnet-making. I found the shop, and was endeavouring to catch a glimpse of her beloved profile, when I suddenly received a terrific blow—from a foot—behind—which almost sent me head-first through the shop window. I turned round and found myself face to face with a ferocious looking individual, almost as tall as the lamp-post, and considerably stouter. (mechanically wiping his face with the linen he takes out of the clothes basket, and blackening it) Well, my first impulse was to come Tom Sayers over him, but it suddenly occurred to me that the brawny ruffian before me might be a husband and a father, I therefore spared him, and walked slowly away—as fast as my legs could carry me! but he overtook me at the door of my lodgings. How I got up three flights of stairs, I don’t know; but I’d no sooner precipitated myself into my attic, and bolted the door, then a voice demanded instant admission. Instinctively I seized the poker, the poker reminded me of the fireplace, the fireplace of the chimney—away I flew—up the flue, and I was saved! (wiping his face again with the clean linen, and blackening it) I wonder if the bulky miscreant is still there? (looking out at window) I do declare he’s actually lighted the fire! I see the smoke coming out of the chimney! Ecod! then I’m well out of it! Goodness gracious! (wipes his face with the clean linen) what can I have done to this sanguinary vampire? The only thing I can think of, is that he may have been poorly at Cambridge, and that I may have sent him pills that made him poorlier!
PHŒBE. (without) Now, uncle, I never can carry down that large basket of clothes by myself—do come and help me! (comes in at little door, L. C.)
TRIPTOLE. That voice!
PHŒBE. (stumbling over the linen which TRIPTOLEMUS has thrown about stage) Heyday! who can have been tumbling all the nice clean linen about? One of those horrid cats, I’ll be bound!