Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 85

COTTON. We were but speaking of thee as thy knock sounded. Betty will be here presently; she hath but retired for the moment. Remove thy wraps and make thyself in comfort.

[ADONIJAH _is a lean, lank, lantern-jawed individual, clad in the conventional sober gray of the Puritan, with high-crowned hat, and a fur tippet wound about his neck up to his ears. He removes the hat and tippet and hands them to_ COTTON, _who carefully places them upon the table; meanwhile_ ADONIJAH _looks appraisingly about him and judiciously selects the armchair by the fire. He pauses a moment to rub his hands before the blaze, and then gingerly relaxes into the depths of the armchair, as though fearful his comfort would give way ere fully attained._ COTTON _places a chair on the other side of_ ADONIJAH _and is seated_.

COTTON. And how is it with thee since I have seen thee last?

ADONIJAH. My business prospereth [_mournfully_], but not so finely as it might well do.

[_The clock strikes four, but is unnoticed by the two men._

COTTON. Thou hast suffered some great loss?

ADONIJAH. But yes--and no--this matter of lending money hath many and grievous complications, not the least of which is the duplicity of the borrower. I but insist on the thirty pounds to the hundred as my due recompense, and when I demand it they respond not, but let my kindness lie under the clods of ingrat.i.tude. [_Straightening up, and speaking with conviction._] They shall come before the council. I will have what is mine own.

COTTON. [_Righteously._] And it is not unbecoming of thee to demand it.

I wist not what the present generation is coming to.

ADONIJAH. They have no sense of the value of money. They know not how to demean themselves properly in due proportion to their worldly goods, as the Lord hath prospered them. There be many that have nothing and do hold their heads above us that be worthy of our possessions.

COTTON. The wicked stand in slippery places. It will not always be thus.

Judgment shall come upon them.

ADONIJAH. Aye, let them fall. I for one have upheld them too far. They squander their means in riotous living, and walk not in the ways of their fathers.

COTTON. There be many such--many such--but thou, my lad, thou art not one of the mult.i.tude. As I have often observed to my Betty, thou standest out as a most upright and G.o.d-fearing young man.

ADONIJAH. [_Br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with self-satisfaction._] That have I ever sought to be.

COTTON. An example that others would do well to imitate.

ADONIJAH. [_All puffed up._] Nay, others value it not. They be envious of my good fortune.

COTTON. A most prudent young man! Nay, be not so over-blushingly timid.

Thou'rt too modest.

ADONIJAH. [_His face falling._] But Betty--doth she regard me thus?

COTTON. The ways of a maid are past finding out; but despair not. I think she hath thee much to heart, but, as the perverse heart of woman dictateth, behaveth much to the contrary.

ADONIJAH. [_Brightening up as one with new hopes._] Thou thinkest----

COTTON. [_Interrupting._] Nay, lad, I am sure of it. Betty was ever a dutiful daughter.

[_All unseen_, BETTY _peeks out mischievously_.

ADONIJAH. But I mistrust me her heart is elsewhere.

COTTON. Thou referr'st to young Manning without doubt. It can never be.

'Tis but a pa.s.sing fancy.

ADONIJAH. Nay, but I fear Charles thinketh not so. I have been told in secret [_leaning forward confidentially_] by one that hath every opportunity to know, that he hath enjoined Goodman Shrewsbury to send for--[_impressively_] a ring!

COTTON. [_Angered._] A ring, sayest thou?

ADONIJAH. [_Nodding._] Aye, even so.

COTTON. But he hath not signified such intention here to me.

ADONIJAH. Then there are no grounds for his rash presumption?

COTTON. Humph! Grounds! For a ring! Aye, there'll be no diabolical circle here for the devil to daunce in. I will question Betty thereon.

[_Rises._] Do thou remain here and I will send her to thee. Oh, that he should offer daughter of mine a ring!

[COTTON _leaves the room_. ADONIJAH _leans back in his chair in supreme contentment at the turn affairs have taken. The clamorous knocker arouses him from his reverie. He gazes stupidly around. The continued imperious tattoo on the knocker finally brings him to his feet. He goes into the hall and opens the door. His voice is heard._

ADONIJAH. [_Frostily._] Good-afternoon, Sir Charles, mine host is absent.

CHARLES. [_Stepping in._] My mission has rather to do with Mistress Betty. Is she in?

ADONIJAH. [_Closing the hall door, and turning to_ CHARLES, _replies in grandiose hauteur_.] Mistress Betty is otherwise engaged, I would have thee know.

CHARLES. Engaged? [_Bowing._] Your humble servant, I trust, hath the supreme pleasure of that engagement.

[_He glances inquiringly about the room, and places the hat on the table beside that of_ ADONIJAH. _The two hats are as different as the two men_: ADONIJAH'S _prim, Puritanic, severe_; CHARLES'S _three-cornered, with a flowing plume_.

[CHARLES _is a handsome chap of goodly proportions, with a straightforward air and a pleasant smile. He is dressed more after the fashion of the cavaliers of Virginia, and wears a long wig with flowing curls. The two men size each other up._

ADONIJAH. [_Meaningly._] Her father will shortly arrive.

CHARLES. [_Impatiently striding forth._] Devil take her father. 'Tis Mistress Betty I would see. Where is she?

[CHARLES _continues pacing the floor_. ADONIJAH, _shocked beyond measure, turns his back on the offending_ CHARLES, _and with folded arms and bowed head stands aside in profound meditation. The clock door slowly opens and_ BETTY _cautiously peeks out_. CHARLES _stops short and is about to begin a decided demonstration, when_ BETTY, _with a warning glance toward_ ADONIJAH, _checks him with upraised hand. The clock door closes and_ CHARLES _subsides into the armchair with a comprehending grin of delight_. ADONIJAH _slowly turns and faces_ CHARLES _with a melancholy air_.

CHARLES. Prithee, why so sad?

[_The grin becomes a chuckle._

ADONIJAH. I do discern no cause for such unrighteous merriment.

CHARLES. 'Tis none the less for all of that. I take life as I find it, and for that matter so do they all, even thou. The difference be in the finding. [_Whistles._

ADONIJAH. [_Uneasily._] It is time her father did arrive.

CHARLES. Where then hath he been?

ADONIJAH. He but went in search of Betty.

CHARLES. Ah, then we'll wait.