SCENE II.
_Justice Headstrong’s Study_.
(_He appears in his nightgown and cap_, _with his gouty foot upon astool_—_a table and chocolate beside him_—_Lucy is leaning on the arm ofhis chair_.)
_Just._ Well, well, my darling, presently; I’ll see him presently.
_Lucy_. Whilst you are drinking your chocolate, papa?
_Just._ No, no, no—I never see anybody till I have done my chocolate,darling. (_He tastes his chocolate_.) There’s no sugar in this, child.
_Lucy_. Yes, indeed, papa.
_Just._ No, child—there’s _no_ sugar, I tell you; that poz!
_Lucy_. Oh, but, papa, I assure you I put in two lumps myself.
_Just._ There’s _no_ sugar, I say; why will you contradict me, child,for ever? There’s no sugar, I say.
(_Lucy leans over him playfully_, _and with his teaspoon pulls out two lumps of sugar_.)
_Lucy_. What’s this, papa?
_Just._ Pshaw! pshaw! pshaw!—it is not melted, child—it is the same asno sugar.—Oh, my foot, girl, my foot!—you kill me. Go, go, I’m busy.I’ve business to do. Go and send William to me; do you hear, love?
_Lucy_. And the old man, papa?
_Just._ What old man? I tell you what, I’ve been plagued ever since Iwas awake, and before I was awake, about that old man. If he can’t wait,let him go about his business. Don’t you know, child, I never seeanybody till I’ve drunk my chocolate; and I never will, if it were aduke—that’s poz! Why, it has but just struck twelve; if he can’t wait,he can go about his business, can’t he?
_Lucy_. Oh, sir, he can wait. It was not he who was impatient. (Shecomes back playfully.) It was only I, papa; don’t be angry.
_Just._ Well, well, well (_finishing his cup of chocolate_, _and pushinghis dish away_); and at anyrate there was not sugar enough. SendWilliam, send William, child; and I’ll finish my own business, and then—
(_Exit Lucy_, _dancing_, “_And then_!—_and then_!”)
JUSTICE, _alone_.
_Just._ Oh, this foot of mine!—(_twinges_)—Oh, this foot! Ay, if Dr.Sparerib could cure one of the gout, then, indeed, I should thinksomething of him; but, as to my leaving off my bottle of port, it’snonsense; it’s all nonsense; I can’t do it; I can’t, and won’t, for allthe Dr. Spareribs in Christendom; that’s poz!
_Enter_ WILLIAM.
_Just._ William—oh! ay! hey! what answer, pray, did you bring from the“Saracen’s Head”? Did you see Mrs. Bustle herself, as I bid you?
_Will._ Yes, sir, I saw the landlady herself; she said she would come upimmediately, sir.
_Just._ Ah, that’s well—immediately?
_Will._ Yes, sir, and I hear her voice below now.
_Just._ Oh, show her up; show Mrs. Bustle in.
_Enter_ MRS. BUSTLE, _the landlady of the_ “_Saracen’s Head_.”
_Land._ Good morrow to your worship! I’m glad to see your worship lookso purely. I came up with all speed (_taking breath_). Our pie is inthe oven; that was what you sent for me about, I take it.
_Just._ True; true; sit down, good Mrs. Bustle, pray—
_Land._ Oh, your worship’s always very good (_settling her apron_). Icame up just as I was—only threw my shawl over me. I thought yourworship would excuse—I’m quite, as it were, rejoiced to see your worshiplook so purely, and to find you up so hearty—
_Just._ Oh, I’m very hearty (_coughing_), always hearty, and thankfulfor it. I hope to see many Christmas doings yet, Mrs. Bustle. And soour pie is in the oven, I think you say?
_Land._ In the oven it is. I put it in with my own hands; and if wehave but good luck in the baking, it will be as pretty a goose-pie—thoughI say it that should not say it—as pretty a goose-pie as ever yourworship set your eyes upon.
_Just._ Will you take a glass of anything this morning, Mrs. Bustle?—Ihave some nice usquebaugh.
_Land._ Oh, no, your worship!—I thank your worship, though, as much asif I took it; but I just took my luncheon before I came up; or moreproper, _my sandwich_, I should say, for the fashion’s sake, to be sure.A _luncheon_ won’t go down with nobody nowadays (_laughs_). I expecthostler and boots will be calling for their sandwiches just now (_laughsagain_). I’m sure I beg your worship’s pardon for mentioning a_luncheon_.
_Just._ Oh, Mrs. Bustle, the word’s a good word, for it means a goodthing—ha! ha! ha! (_pulls out his watch_); but pray, is it luncheon time.Why, it’s past one, I declare; and I thought I was up in remarkably goodtime, too.
_Land._ Well, and to be sure so it was, remarkably good time for yourworship; but folks in our way must be up betimes, you know. I’ve been upand about these seven hours!
_Just._ (_stretching_). Seven hours!
_Land._ Ay, indeed—eight, I might say, for I am an early little body;though I say it that should not say it—I _am_ an early little body.
_Just._ An early little body, as you say, Mrs. Bustle; so I shall havemy goose-pie for dinner, hey?
_Land._ For dinner, as sure as the clock strikes four—but I mustn’t stayprating, for it may be spoiling if I’m away; so I must wish your worshipa good morning. (_She curtsies_.)
_Just._ No ceremony—no ceremony; good Mrs. Bustle, your servant.
_Enter_ WILLIAM, _to take away the chocolate_. _The Landlady is putting on her shawl_.
_Just._ You may let that man know, William, that I have dispatched my_own_ business, and am at leisure for his now (_taking a pinch ofsnuff_). Hum! pray, William (_Justice leans back gravely_), what sort ofa looking fellow is he, pray?
_Will._ Most like a sort of travelling man, in my opinion, sir—orsomething that way, I take it.
(_At these words the landlady turns round inquisitively_, _and delays_, _that she may listen_, _while she is putting on and pinning her shawl_.)
_Just._ Hum! a sort of a travelling man. Hum! lay my books out open atthe title Vagrant; and, William, tell the cook that Mrs. Bustle promisesme the goose-pie for dinner. Four o’clock, do you hear? And show theold man in now.
(_The Landlady looks eagerly towards the door_, _as it opens_, _and exclaims_,)
_Land._ My old gentleman, as I hope to breathe!
_Enter the_ OLD MAN.
(_Lucy follows the Old Man on tiptoe_—_The Justice leans back and looksconsequential_—_The Landlady sets her arms akimbo_—_The Old Man starts ashe sees her_.)
_Just._ What stops you, friend? Come forward, if you please.
_Land._ (_advancing_). So, sir, is it you, sir? Ay, you little thought,I warrant ye, to meet me here with his worship; but there you reckonedwithout your host—Out of the frying-pan into the fire.
_Just._ What is all this? What is this?
_Land._ (_running on_). None of your flummery stuff will go down withhis worship no more than with me, I give you warning; so you may gofurther and fare worse, and spare your breath to cool your porridge.
_Just._ (_waves his hand with dignity_). Mrs. Bustle, good Mrs. Bustle,remember where you are. Silence! silence! Come forward, sir, and let mehear what you have to say.
(_The Old Man comes forward_.)
_Just._ Who and what may you be, friend, and what is your business withme?
_Land._ Sir, if your worship will give me leave—
(_Justice makes a sign to her to be silent_).
_Old M._ Please, your worship, I am an old soldier.
_Land._ (_interrupting_). An old hypocrite, say.
_Just._ Mrs. Bustle, pray, I desire, let the man speak.
_Old M._ For these two years past—ever since, please your worship—Iwasn’t able to work any longer; for
in my youth I did work as well as thebest of them.
_Land._ (_eager to interrupt_). You work—you—
_Just._ Let him finish his story, I say.
_Lucy_. Ay, do, do, papa, speak for him. Pray, Mrs. Bustle—
_Land._ (_turning suddenly round to Lucy_). Miss, a good morrow to you,ma’am. I humbly beg your apologies for not seeing you sooner, Miss Lucy.
(_Justice nods to the Old Man_, _who goes on_.)
_Old Man_. But please your worship, it pleased God to take away the useof my left arm; and since that I have never been able to work.
_Land._ Flummery! flummery!
_Just._ (_angrily_). Mrs. Bustle, I have desired silence, and I willhave it, that’s poz! You shall have your turn presently.
_Old M._ For these two years past (for why should I be ashamed to tellthe truth?) I have lived upon charity, and I scraped together a guineaand a half and upwards, and I was travelling with it to my grandson, inthe north, with him to end my days—but (_sighing_)—
_Just._ But what? Proceed, pray, to the point.
_Old M._ But last night I slept here in town, please your worship, atthe “Saracen’s Head.”
_Land._ (_in a rage_). At the “Saracen’s Head”! Yes, forsooth! nonesuch ever slept at the “Saracen’s Head” afore, or shall afterwards, aslong as my name’s Bustle, and the “Saracen’s Head” is the “Saracen’sHead.”
_Just._ Again! again! Mrs. Landlady, this is downright—I have said youshould speak presently. He _shall_ speak first, since I’ve saidit—that’s poz! Speak on, friend. You slept last night at the “Saracen’sHead.”
_Old M._ Yes, please your worship, and I accuse nobody; but at night Ihad my little money safe, and in the morning it was gone.
_Land._ Gone!—gone, indeed, in my house! and this is the way I’m to betreated! Is it so? I couldn’t but speak, your worship, to such aninhuman like, out o’ the way, scandalous charge, if King George and allthe Royal Family were sitting in your worship’s chair, beside you, tosilence me (_turning to the Old Man_). And this is your gratitude,forsooth! Didn’t you tell me that any hole in my house was good enoughfor you, wheedling hypocrite? And the thanks I receive is to call me andmine a pack of thieves.
_Old M._ Oh, no, no, no, _No_—a pack of thieves, by no means.
_Land._ Ay, I thought when _I_ came to speak we should have you uponyour marrow-bones in—
_Just._ (_imperiously_). Silence! Five times have I commanded silence,and five times in vain; and I won’t command anything five times invain—_that’s poz_!
_Land._ (_in a pet_, _aside_). Old Poz! (_aloud_). Then, your worship,I don’t see any business I have to be waiting here; the folks want me athome (returning and whispering). Shall I send the goose-pie up, yourworship, if it’s ready?
_Just._ (_with magnanimity_). I care not for the goose-pie, Mrs. Bustle.Do not talk to me of goose-pies; this is no place to talk of pies.
_Land._ Oh, for that matter, your worship knows best, to be sure.
(_Exit Landlady_, _angry_.)