Single Life. Buckstone John Baldwin
I will.
Miss Sna. Do!
Pin. I will!
Miss Sna. (To BOSS.) We’ll leave them together; he may overcome his bashfulness when he gets used to being alone with his object. He is fond of her, no doubt – true love is never very loquacious.
Boss. Can’t say, never having known the passion!
Miss Sna. Ah, you will know it some day.
Boss. What are the symptoms? Explain as we go along, that I may be aware of my malady when I am attacked. (Crosses to L.)
Miss Sna. For me to attempt to explain, would be to confess that I have experienced the emotion myself.
Boss. You have.
Miss Sna. No!
Boss. You Circe, you have.
Miss Sna. No, I declare.
Boss. Well then, you may —
Miss Sna. If I am much in your society, there is no knowing what I may experience.
“Is there a heart that never loved,
Or felt soft woman’s sigh!”
Pin. Beautiful!
Miss Sky. Eh?
Pin. Oh, nothing. Dear me, I am quite alone with her – I wish I could say something confounded clever. I’ll be hanged if I don’t try. Hem! (Quickly.) How are you to-day, miss?
Miss Sky. (Imitating him.) Very well! how are you?
Pin. Very well, all but a slight pain in my side.
Miss Sky. Indeed!
Pin. Yes. I’ll be hanged if I can say another word. What can I talk about? What do people talk about? I have worn out the weather, and she has no particular relations to ask about. There is her grandmother, to be sure – I see no harm in asking after her. One must say something, miss?
Miss Sky. (R.) Yes.
Pin. How’s your grandmother?
Miss Sky. Very well indeed for her age!
Pin. How old is she?
Miss Sky. Seventy-two – I’ve told you so twenty times.
Pin. Dear me, then I must have asked that question twenty times. Now what more can I say, I wonder? Is there anything in the room I can talk about? (Looks about.) Nice place this, isn’t it?
Miss Sky. Very!
Pin. So airy?
Miss Sky. Very!
Pin. I’ve soon finished that subject. I wish she’d say something – I can’t find conversation for one, much more two!
Miss Sky. (Singing.) “Oh, bear me to some distant shore or solitary cell.”
Pin. You are partial to singing, ar’n’t you?
Miss Sky. Very. Do you sing?
Pin. I never tried but once.
Miss Sky. Indeed!
Pin. It was at a party.
Miss Sky. Indeed!
Pin. Yes, I could hardly get through the first verse of my song. In fact, I didn’t get through it.
Miss Sky. What prevented you?
Pin. When I begun, everybody looked at me so hard, that I felt so confused that I jumped up, rushed out of the house, and ran all the way home. And – and when I looked in the glass there, I found I had come away with the footman’s laced hat on my head!
Miss Sky. Singular!
Pin. Yes. (Aside.) Well I think I have talked more to her this morning than ever I did before – I know I only want encouragement. Oh! when shall I be able to touch upon the tender topic – I never shall get heart to venture – it’s odd she never alludes to my letters. I suppose she receives them. I’ve written another to her, asking for the state of her feelings – I’ll be my own postman, then I shall be sure she has it. (Slowly takes a letter from waistcoat pocket.) I’ll throw it in her lap, and run out of the house!
Dam. Ha! ha! I’ve saved you, you villain! Miss Kitty, once more I’ve saved him.
Nig. Who could have thought it?
Dam. That designing woman, Miss Coy, was at the appointed place waiting for her victim sure enough. There was the chaise too; but what do you think? there was also the full-grown young man in earnest conversation with her. When we appeared, he tried to avoid us. We demanded who he was – she refused to explain. One word led to another – I told her all I had heard of her. She flew into a rage, showered her abuse upon me, whilst I dragged away my friend.
Nig. She’s at the door, chaise and all. What’s to be done?
Dam. She sha’n’t come in – let her knock. There is no doubt of the truth of the report. That young man is her son; and this infatuated old fellow was going to join his fate with such a character! Hav’n’t I saved you from perdition?
Nig. You have, indeed! My lot in life is clearly developed – I never am to be married. What am I to do with the cards?
Dam. Burn them.
Nig. What with the cake?
Dam. Eat it – we’ll all eat it.
Nig. So we will – so we will.
Dam. Sit down all of you, and be comfortable. (Hands the cake.) Take a bit, Miss Kitty – Pinkey, bless your bashfulness; ’tis your best friend – it will prevent you ever making a fool of yourself. Niggle, eat in peace and thankfulness; for I have once more saved you from the abyss of matrimony. (Loud knocking, without.) Ha! ha! you can’t come in. Go away, woman! go away! Finish the cake, and let the artful creature knock till she’s tired! Go away!
ACT II
SCENE I. —Interior of a neat cottage, door and window in flat; table on the R., a china flower-stand on it. MISS MARIA MACAW discovered, hemming a handkerchief; she takes a note from the table and reads.
Miss Mac. (Reading.) “Miss Snare will be happy to have the pleasure of Miss Macaw’s company to tea this evening; of course Miss Macaw’s niece is included in the invitation.” I am sure I have no inclination to go, but Jessy insists upon it, she is so anxious to make an acquaintance with any one, that I’m sure if the gardener were to ask her to dine with him, she would accept the invite. I hope there will no men there, the brutes. One of the chief things that has reconciled me to this country life, is the very few male creatures that I have met with here. Ah, if I had my will, the sex should be exterminated! Well, niece?
Miss Mea. Ah, my dear aunt, at your needle as usual. I have been gathering flowers in our little garden – there. (She places the bouquet in the flower-glass on the table.) Are they not beautiful? I love flowers – I have a passion for them.
Miss Mac. You should not use such