Complete works of hall c.., p.646
Complete Works of Hall Caine, page 646
Waiter. More than that — he says he doesn’t believe you are h’artistes at all, but a family of sharpers — the sort that comes to a ‘otel and makes theirselves at home and runs up a bill, and then you can’t get rid of ‘em.
Daddie. The scoundrel! Did he say that? I’ll have him up for libel and slander! I’ll brief the best lawyer in the land, and if –
Waiter. And if you don’t pay within twenty-four hours he says he’ll send for the Head Constable and have you clapped in the Town Gaol.
(Exit Waiter.)
Daddie. There’s gratitude for you! You patronise the man’s greasy hostelry, and he talks of the Town Gaol! (Putting his head out of door and shouting after waiter.) Hello, there! Your landlord is a thief and a scoundrel, and I should like to tell him so to his teeth.
Lesta (still quietly making up). Go down and see the landlord yourself, Daddie.
Daddie. Good Lord! What do I want to see him for?
Lesta. Tell him it will all come right presently, and then he’ll he sorry if he has made trouble.
Daddie. I’m sick of this sort of life, though, and don’t know why the deuce I came.
(Exit Daddie.)
Mammie (on chair, centre). Don’t know why he came! I do. Because a foolish girl has fallen in love with a foolish boy, and they expect the world to stand still, or go round the other way while they bill and coo. But Nature don’t copy its style from a dime novel. The young man is a Cambridge undergraduate, and his father is Governor of the Isle of Boy, while you are a variety artiste — and don’t imagine anybody is going to forget it. (Lesta hums and sings “My face is my fortune” etc.)
Mammie. Is it? Perhaps it is, but people don’t take securities on face-value nowadays. Even if the boy’s fine friends would allow him to marry you, do you suppose they want him to marry me, or daddie, or Joey, or little Tilda? Put the boy out of your mind, Lesta, stick to our profession, work hard and make a hit.
Lesta (rising, putting her arms round her mother s neck from behind). I’m going to make the biggest hit of my life, Mammie.
Mammie. Where and when?
Lesta. Just here and now. Bill would have married me without asking anybody’s consent, but it wouldn’t have been fair to his father or to himself or lo me, or to Mammie – and I wouldn’t hear of it for a minute. He and I are doing a dangerous thing, I know, but then love is a flower that often grows in dangerous places, and sometimes it flourishes on the rocks, when it won’t blow in the sheltered garden. Don’t be afraid, Mammie! I’m not! Bill is lo cross today and to see his father this after-noon, and to-morrow we’ll be as happy as the day is long.
Enter Messenger Boy in bicycle uniform.
Messenger Boy. Miss Lesta Lily, Miss!
Lesta (eagerly). Letter for me? (Exit Boy.) From Bill! (tearing it open). “Darling Lesta, I’ve just arrived and seen the Governor” — He has seen his father, Mammie, and writes at once to tell us all about it. “Am sorry to say he has cut up rough. Before I could get the words out of my mouth he flew into a rage, said insulting things about music-hall people in general, and threatened if I brought you here to turn both of us out of the house. So your sweet little scheme for gaining his consent — And now he has gone post haste to your own hotel — having some crazy idea that a Prince, travelling in disguise — (Falters, stops, breaks down, sits centre, covers her face and sobs).
Mammie (putting her arms about Lesta’s neck from behind). Never mind, little girlie! Never mind! The old fool doesn’t know what he’s doing. But his loss will be our gain. We’ll leave the island to-morrow and it will be all one in a hundred years, you know.
Re-enter Daddie in great excitement, clapping his hands.
Daddie. Here’s a go! The Head Constable is asking for Lesta!
Mammie. Then the brute of a landlord has sent for him!
Daddie. It isn’t that. Such larks! Such an adventure!
Mammie. What adventure?
Daddie. Sh! Sh! The Governor of the Island received information this morning that young Prince Henry was to come incognito to the Isle of Boy. So not to be caught napping the sly old dog sent his Head Constable round the Inns and Hotels to see if by chance the Prince had arrived already.
Mammie. Well? (Lesta uncovering her face runs through her letter again.)
Daddie. Well, it seems the Constable came here also, and catching a glimpse of Lesta rehearsing in – in these (snatching up trousers and holding them out) he jumped to the conclusion, for some reason, that she was the Prince travelling in disguise.
Mammie. What nonsense!
Daddie. The Governor believes it, though, and he is coming to see her.
Mammie. The Governor coming to see Lesta?
Daddie. The Governor and all his satellites.
Mammie. Well, I declare!
Daddie. More than that, the landlord has fallen into the trap too, and we are to have as much dinner as we please. Dinner, dinner, dinner! (Clapping his hands and capering round.)
Mammie. What’s to be done about it?
Daddie. Done about it? Eat, of course, before the fools find out their mistake.
Mammie. But what’s to be done about the Governor when he comes to see Lesta, under the impression that she’s the Prince in disguise?
Lesta. (leaping up with a face full of resolution). Fool him to the top of his bent – that’s what’s to be done?
Mammie. Lesta!
Lesta. He insulted me, didn’t he, — he said I wasn’t fit to marry his son, and if I crossed his threshold he would turn me out of doors.
Daddie. He did?
Lesta. Very well, he shall take me over his threshold himself. He shall go down on his knees to me.
Mammie. My goodness! You don’t mean you’ll pretend you are the Prince?
Lesta. Certainly, I will! We all will! Fortune has thrown these people into our hands, with their mare’s nest and moonshine, and we are not mummers if we are incapable of mummery.
Daddie. Good, great, glorious! Count me in every time. Let me see: I’ll be your valet — no, I’ll be — that’s it, I’ll be your father, the King.
Lesta. You’ll be my equerry and friend — And, Mammie –
Daddie. I know — Mammie will be your Lady of the Bedchamber — I mean your Lady in Waiting — I mean — h’m — Mammie’s the difficulty, isn’t she?
Lesta. Mammie will be your wife, and my old nurse.
Daddie. Splendid!
Mammie. Goodness me! But if the real Prince should come in the meantime?
Lesta. Let him! The real Prince is ours – we’ll work it for all it’s worth. (Gathering up male attire). Come along Mammie! Help me to get into this flummery! I know what it is to be a woman – let me feel what it is to be a man! I know what it is to be poor and insignificant – let me find out what it is to be rich and great! To he a woman and to be poor as the world goes is to he courted and degraded, flattered, and shammed — to stand in a market-place where you pay but are never paid — to be present at a feast where you serve but may not he served – to be low enough for man’s lust hut not his enough for his love! Oh, I don’t know whose fault it is, but it’s wicked and cruel and unjust, and now I’m going to be revenged! (Breaks into hysterical laughter, and, singing and goes in, followed by Mammie). (Knocking at door, R.)
Daddie. The Satellites!
Lesta (putting her head in at door, L.). I hear them coming. Gull them, fool them; bleed them, fleece them, Daddie. (Her head goes in.)
Daddie. Sh! Now for business! (Straightening himself up and assuming a high style). Come in!
Enter Head Constable in full uniform. In lisping he pronounces “s” as “th.”
Head Constable. Your master is not at home apparently?
Daddie. Always at home to you, Colonel. He’ll be out presently.
Head Constable. Thanks! (Aside). Suppose I must begin to use palm oil here! (Aloud, slipping coin into Daddie’s hand). Tell me, my good man, what is your master?
Daddie. What is he?
Head Constable. I mean what is his rank?
Daddie. His rank? Oh, the usual rank.
Head Constable. (Aside.) One must be a little bolder with this gentleman. (Aloud.) He’s a — a — general, isn’t he?
Daddie. A general? (Contemptuously.) Did you say a general?
Head Constable. Is he higher than a general then?
Daddie. Oh, much higher.
Head Constable (aside). I knew it! (Aloud.) So you’re having a little tour together, are you?
Daddie. Decidedly — undoubtedly. We’re having a little tour.
Head Constable. A private tour, eh?
Daddie. Oh, strictly private!
Head Constable (aside). How close we are! But the rascal will soon melt under my management. (Aloud.) Tell me now, what does your master pay most attention to on his little private tours?
Daddie. Well, to tell you the truth, he seems to me to pay most attention to the police.
Head Constable (alarmed). The police!
Daddie. He’s fond of asking questions and finding out all about them.
Head Constable (aside). Lord save us!
Daddie. But most of all he likes being well entertained.
Head Constable. Well entertained?
Daddie. That is to say he likes his servants to be well entertained. Coming away from an island like this, he’ll say, “Well, Sidney,” that’s my name— “Well, Sid,” he’ll say— “have they treated you well?” “Shabbily, your Highness,” I’ll say. “Remind me of that when we get back to London,” he’ll say. And then it’s God help that poor island and everybody in it!
Head Constable (terrified). Good Lord! you don’t say so! (Taking out his pocket-book.) He doesn’t mind putting up at an old hotel like this though?
Daddie. No, he doesn’t mind putting up at a frousy, grousy old hotel like this.
Head Constable (slipping bank-note into Daddie’s hand). But that’s all part of the game, perhaps, eh, Sidney, eh?
Daddie (taking it). Yes, that’s all part of the game, perhaps, eh, Colonel, eh? (They nudge each other – with the elbow, wink and laugh immoderately.)
In the midst of their laughter Lesta enters, dressed in male attire and assuming the character of the Prince.
Lesta. Here I am at last!
Daddie (aside, pocketing the bank-note). H’m! He needn’t have been in such a deuce of a hurry, though! (Exit Daddie, R.)
Head Constable (with great trepidation). I have the honour to present myself: I am Head Constable of the Isle of Boy.
Lesta. Ah, how d’ye do? Take a seat.
Head Constable. It is my duty, as Head Constable, to take all due measures to prevent visitors from suffering inconvenience. Therefore, if you have anything to complain of in this place –
Lesta. Nothing whatever! True, the house is not all that one may have been used to, the attendance leaves something to be desired, and the food — Well, yes, the food –
Head Constable (gathering confidence). Or if you are in temporary want of funds, I am ready to oblige you, because it is — ahem!^ — my duty to assist visitors.
Lesta. Did you say funds? Well, since you are so kind, it would perhaps —
Head Constable (handing a roll of notes). Say no more, sir — say no more! Don’t trouble to count it. (Aside.) There, thank Heaven! He has taken my money.
Lesta. Thanks, very much! I must say I am very much struck by the open-heartedness and generosity of the officials in this island, and when I get back to London –
Head Constable (eagerly). Ah, you are too good! It is easy to see you are an exceptional visitor, a most exceptional visitor, and if — if — when you return to London, the King should ever speak of the Isle of Boy, perhaps you will say, “May it please your Majesty, that is the island where the police — the police always do their duty!”
Lesta. Certainly! I shall be happy! I like the company of the police. Some people don’t agree with me, but what would society be without the police? Am I not right?
Head Constable. Absolutely right, sir! (Backing out.) Pardon me, troubling you further with my presence.
Lesta. Don’t mention it!
Head Constable (aside). Hurrah! The island’s ours! (Exit Head Constable.)
Re-enter Daddie, stifling his laughter.
Lesta. How do you like it, Daddie? Daddie. Rare! But there’s another of ‘em coming! Hush! — he’s here!
Enter Judge, in wig and gown, with bank-notes crushed in his hand.
(Exit Daddie.)
Judge (aside). Oh, lord! How my knees knock together! (Steadying himself against table, centre, and speaking with difficulty.) Your Ex — I mean your High – your Royal — I have the honour to present myself: I am the Judge of the Isle of Boy.
Lesta. Ah! Take a seat!
Judge. Hearing from the Head Constable that an exceptional visitor has arrived — I came to pay my respects –
Lesta. Quite right! I’m very fond of agreeable company. But pray be seated.
Judge (still steadying himself by table). Thanks! I can very well stand.
Lesta. No ceremony — I beg! I entreat! (Judge makes a dive for a chair and sprawls into it.)
Lesta. So you are the Judge of the Isle of Boy! You find it profitable, I daresay, being Judge here?
Judge (alarmed). Profitable?
Lesta. Such a sober and well-principled people, you know! I should think they must leave you nothing to do.
Judge (aside). Oh, Lord! somebody has been and told him.
Lesta. Nothing but to spend your time and your salary in enjoying yourself.
Judge (slips off chair on to his knees). Your Ex-ex-ex — your High — your Royal High –
(Gasps.)
Lesta. What’s the matter?
Judge (hiccoughing). Have pity on me! Don’t ruin me! Only give me time to repent. I have a wife and small children — Judge for yourself, sir, the salary I get is hardly sufficient for bread and cheese, and how can I spend it in drink?
Lesta. Certainly you can’t!
Judge. It’s all the lying of that Governor.
Lesta. What a shame!
Judge (hiccoughing). He says I’m sometimes speechless on the bench.
Lesta. What nonsense! And you with such a marvellous flow of language, too! But what have you got in your hand there?
Judge. Noth-nothing, sir.
Lesta (helping him up). Why, it’s money! Look here, lend it to me. I’ve run a little short, but as soon as I get back to London, I’ll return it to you.
Judge. It’s quite unnecessary — the honour of lending to your Ex — I mean your High — In fact, I spend all my salary on distinguished visitors, one way and another.
Lesta. I’m sure you do.
Judge (rising with difficulty). Excuse my intrusion, sir.
Lesta. Don’t mention it, Judge. I like the society of lawyers. What would the world he without lawyers, I say? They’re not like the police, who are all scoundrels, or like the clergy, who are all hypocrites. They are so generous, so sincere. Am I not right, Judge?
Judge. Quite right, your Ex-ex-li-ncy! (Aside.) Hur — (hiccough) rah! The island’s ours! (Makes a plunge for the door and falls through if headlong.)
Re-enter Daddie, choking with laughter.
Daddie. Oh, I shall burst! But I there’s another of ‘em coming! The last was a gull, this is a raven! Sh!
Enter the Bishop, in full costume.
(Exit Daddie.)
Bishop. I have the honour to present myself: I am Bishop of the Isle of Boy.
Lesta. You’re welcome! Take a seat! People think me eccentric, but I like the company of Bishops! Some say the clergy are all hypocrites, but I don’t agree with them. They’re not like lawyers, who would sell their souls for sixpence. A clergy-man’s soul shines in his face. Isn’t it so, Bishop?
Bishop. Quite true, sir.
Lesta. And so you live here always?
Bishop. Alas, sir, that is my fate.
Lesta. Well, I like this island of yours. But perhaps this is the case described by the poet: “where every prospect pleases and only man is vile –”
Bishop. Absolutely correct, sir — it is the Governor in this island that is vile.
Lesta. Is it possible?
Bishop. There never was such a governor, sir. He makes everybody wallow at his feet.
Lesta. What a scoundrel!
Bishop. More than that, he is always stealing off to Paris, and Heaven only knows what he does when he gets there.
Lesta. My! He must be a regular blackguard!
Bishop. And then his family, which ought to be an example to everybody, is simply the talk of the island.
Lesta. You don’t say so?
Bishop. His wife and daughter turn up their noses at our wives and daughters, and as for his son –
Lesta. His son?
Bishop. He has a son at Cambridge, who is going to marry an actress.
Lesta. You don’t say so?
Bishop. It’s true! A mere music-hall singer.
Lesta. Why, they’re neither more nor less than a family of impostors!
Bishop. Quite right, sir. Hadn’t I better put it all down on paper, so that you can take it away with you?
Lesta. Do, by all means. I shall he very glad to have it.
Bishop (rising). Thanks! I will not presume to occupy your time any longer.
Lesta. Don’t mention it! All you’ve told me is very amusing! By the way, a very funny thing has happened to me. I’ve somehow cleaned myself out in coming here. You couldn’t now — could you?
Bishop (diving into his pockets under his apron). Of course! I shall count it a great happiness! I always keep a little about me for the purpose. Delighted to oblige you.
Lesta. Thanks very much!
Bishop (aside). The Lord be praised! The island’s ours! (Backs out, bowing profoundly, bumps against Daddie, coming in. Bishop falls face forward on his hands, gathers himself up with wounded dignity and goes. Exit.)
Daddie. Oh! I shall die of laughing! But there are three more officials coming.
Lesta. Three more! Seems to me there are a good many officials in this island. Are they all officials?
Daddie. Sh! Here they are!
Enter the Mayor, the Seneschal, and the Postmaster. Mayor in his red robes and chain, with cocked hat; Seneschal and Postmaster in evening dress. Seneschal carries a roll tied with red ribbon. Postmaster carries a silver salver.
