The Parent's Assistant Part 18

Alderman Bursal, Father of young Bursal.

Lord John, } Talbot, } Wheeler, } Young Gentlemen of Eton, from 17 to 19 years of age.

Bursal, } Rory O'Ryan } Mr. Newington, Landlord of the Inn at Salt Hill.

Farmer Hearty.

A Waiter and crowd of Eton Lads.

WOMEN

The Marchioness of Piercefield, Mother of Lord John.

Lady Violetta--her Daughter, a Child of six or seven years old.

Mrs. Talbot.

Louisa Talbot, her Daughter.

Miss Bursal, Daughter to the Alderman.

Mrs. Newington, Landlady of the Inn at Salt Hill.

Sally, a Chambermaid.

Patty, a Country Girl.

Pipe and Tabor, and Dance of Peasants.

ACT THE FIRST

SCENE I

_The Bar of the 'Windmill Inn' at Salt Hill_

MR. _and_ MRS. NEWINGTON, _the Landlord and Landlady_

_Landlady._ 'Tis an unpossibility, Mr. Newington; and that's enough. Say no more about it; 'tis an unpossibility in the _natur_ of things. (_She ranges jellies, etc., in the Bar._) And pray, do you take your great old-fashioned tankard, Mr. Newington, from among my jellies and confectioneries.

_Landlord_ (_takes his tankard and drinks_). Anything for a quiet life.

If it is an unpossibility, I've no more to say; only, for the soul of me, I can't see the great unpossibility, wife.

_Landlady._ Wife, indeed!--wife!--wife! wife every minute.

_Landlord._ Heyday! Why, what a plague would you have me call you? The other day you quarrelled with me for calling you Mrs. Landlady.

_Landlady._ To be sure I did, and very proper in me I should. I've turned off three waiters and five chambermaids already, for screaming after me _Mrs. Landlady!_ _Mrs. Landlady!_ But 'tis all your ill manners.

_Landlord._ Ill manners! Why, if I may be so bold, if you are not Mrs.

Landlady, in the name of wonder what are you?

_Landlady._ Mrs. Newington, Mr. Newington.

_Landlord_ (_drinks_). Mrs. Newington, Mr. Newington drinks your health; for I suppose I must not be landlord any more in my own house (_shrugs_).

_Landlady._ Oh, as to that, I have no objections nor impediments to your being called _Landlord_. You look it, and become it very proper.

_Landlord._ Why, yes, indeed, thank my tankard, I do look it, and become it, and am nowise ashamed of it; but every one to their mind, as you, wife, don't fancy the being called Mrs. Landlady.

_Landlady._ To be sure I don't. Why, when folks hear the old-fashioned cry of Mrs. Landlady! Mrs. Landlady! who do they expect, think you, to see, but an overgrown, fat, featherbed of a woman coming waddling along with her thumbs sticking on each side of her ap.r.o.n, o' this fashion?

Now, to see me coming, n.o.body would take me to be a landlady.

_Landlord._ Very true, indeed, wife--Mrs. Newington, I mean--I ask pardon; but now to go on with what we were saying about the unpossibility of letting that old lady and the civil-spoken young lady there above have them there rooms for another day.

_Landlady._ Now, Mr. Newington, let me hear no more about that old gentlewoman and that civil-spoken young lady. Fair words cost nothing; and I've a notion that's the cause they are so plenty with the young lady. Neither o' them, I take it, by what they've ordered since their coming into the house, are such grand folk that one need be so _petticular_ about them.

_Landlord._ Why, they came only in a chaise and pair, to be sure; I can't deny that.

_Landlady._ But, bless my stars! what signifies talking? Don't you know, as well as I do, Mr. Newington, that to-morrow is Eton Montem, and that if we had twenty times as many rooms and as many more to the back of them, it would not be one too many for all the company we've a right to expect, and those the highest quality of the land? Nay, what do I talk of to-morrow? isn't my Lady Piercefield and suite expected? and, moreover, Mr. and Miss Bursal's to be here, and will call for as much in an hour as your civil-spoken young lady in a twelvemonth, I reckon. So, Mr. Newington, if you don't think proper to go up and inform the ladies above that the Dolphin rooms are not for them, I must _speak_ myself, though 'tis a thing I never do when I can help it.

_Landlord_ (_aside_). She not like to speak! (_Aloud._) My dear, you can speak a power better than I can; so take it all upon yourself, if you please; for, old-fashioned as I and my tankard here be, I can't make a speech that borders on the uncivil order, to a lady like, for the life and lungs of me. So, in the name of goodness, do you go up, Mrs.

Newington.

_Landlady._ And so I will, Mr. Newington. Help ye! Civilities and rarities are out o' season for them that can't pay for them in this world; and very proper.

(_Exit Landlady._)

_Landlord._ And very proper! Ha! who comes yonder? The Eton chap who wheedled me into lending him my best hunter last year, and was the ruination of him; but that must be paid for, wheedle or no wheedle; and, for the matter of wheedling, I'd stake this here Mr. Wheeler, that is making up to me, do you see, against e'er a boy, or hobbledehoy, in all Eton, London, or Christendom, let the other be who he will.

_Enter_ WHEELER.

_Wheeler._ A fine day, Mr. Newington.

_Landlord._ A fine day, Mr. Wheeler.

_Wheel._ And I hope, for _your_ sake, we may have as fine a day for the Montem to-morrow. It will be a pretty penny in your pocket! Why, all the world will be here; and (_looking round at the jellies_, _etc._) so much the better for them; for here are good things enough, and enough for them. And here's the best thing of all, the good old tankard still; not empty, I hope.

_Landlord._ Not empty, I hope. Here's to you, Mr. Wheeler.

_Wheel._ _Mr._ Wheeler!--_Captain_ Wheeler, if you please.

_Landlord._ _You_, Captain Wheeler!--Why, I thought in former times it was always the oldest scholar at Eton that was Captain at the Montems; and didn't Mr. Talbot come afore you?

_Wheel._ Not at all; we came on the same day. Some say I came first; some say Talbot. So the choice of which of us is to be captain is to be put to the vote amongst the lads--most votes carry it; and I have most votes, I fancy; so I shall be captain, to-morrow, and a pretty deal of _salt_[8] I reckon I shall pocket. Why, the collection at the last Montem, they say, came to a plump thousand! No bad thing for a young fellow to set out with for Oxford or Cambridge--hey?

[8] _Salt_, the _cant_ name given by the Eton lads to the money collected at Montem.

_Landlord._ And no bad thing, before he sets out for Cambridge or Oxford, 'twould be for a young gentleman to pay his debts.

_Wheel._ Debts! Oh, time enough for that. I've a little account with you in horses, I know; but that's between you and me, you know--mum.

_Landlord._ Mum me no mums, Mr. Wheeler. Between you and me, my best hunter has been ruinationed; and I can't afford to be mum. So you'll take no offence if I speak; and as you'll set off to-morrow, as soon as the Montem's over, you'll be pleased to settle with me some way or other to-day, as we've no other time.

_Wheel._ No time so proper, certainly. Where's the little account?--I have money sent me for my Montem dress, and I can squeeze that much out of it. I came home from Eton on purpose to settle with you. But as to the hunter, you must call upon Talbot--do you understand? to pay for him; for though Talbot and I had him the same day, 'twas Talbot did for him, and Talbot must pay. I spoke to him about it, and charged him to remember you; for I never forget to speak a good word for my friends.

_Landlord._ So I perceive.

_Wheel._ I'll make bold just to give you my opinion of these jellies whilst you are getting my account, Mr. Newington.