A Desperate Game: A Comic Drama in One Act — John Shaqi
A Desperate Game: A Comic Drama in One ActMorton, John Maddison
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A Desperate Game: A Comic Drama in One Act
Morton, John Maddison
Comedy plays; English drama -- 19th century
DAVID. And no wonder; she tells me many's the time she's dangled 'ee
on her knee, afore ye were breeched; (_imitating_) but ye know all
about that.
RAT. Of course. I've the most distinct recollection of everything that
happened to me before I was breeched.
DAVID. (_having lighted candles_) There, and now I'll go down stairs
and wait for missus; and as soon as she comes in, I'll say to her----
RAT. Not one word, either to her or to Peggy! I wish to give them both
an agreeable surprise, David; you understand, eh?
DAVID. (_hesitating_) I think I do!
RAT. (_giving him money_) There's a crown for you--think again.
DAVID. (_pocketing money_) I'm sure I do! I'll be as dumb as an
oyster. (_going--stops_) As I said before, supper be all ready in
t'other room, (_going--stops_) and if 'ee want anything you needn't
ring for me, 'cause I be going to take a bit of a snooze before the
kitchen fire. (_yawning_) How sleepy I be to be sure.
_Exit at door, L. C._
RAT. (_watching DAVID out, then goes quickly up and closes the door_)
Alone at last--now then to work. (_takes a pair of pistols from his
coat pocket, which he places on table_) But first, as ladies
invariably fly to the bell ropes to raise an alarm, I must take the
liberty of cutting these. (_taking knife out of his pocket, and
cutting the bell ropes_) Now to examine the means of escape, in case
of interruption--(_opening window and looking out_)--the garden--a
small conservatory underneath--that's awkward; but, luckily, there's
an apple tree so conveniently close as to make a very tolerable ladder
on an emergency, so far perfectly satisfactory--and if my information
is only tolerably correct, and it ought to be considering the trouble
I've had in obtaining it, (_taking small pocket book from his
waistcoat and opening it_) this door should lead to Mrs. Somerton's
chamber--(_opening door at L., and looking in_)--exactly, and very
elegantly appointed indeed. (_closes door, and again looking at his
pocket book_)--"near the door a table"--precisely--(_laying his hand
on the table_)--"on the table a small writing desk"--here it
is--(_laying his hand on the writing desk_)--locked, and the key taken
out, that of course I expected; but as I have ascertained that between
the hours of 12 and 1 yesterday it became the temporary receptacle of
a pocket book containing bank notes to the amount of fifteen thousand
pounds, it is not likely I should come unprovided with the means of
securing such a treasure. (_takes out a bunch of small keys, some of
which he tries--produces a chisel from his coat pocket, and is about
to insert it under the lid of the box, a loud ring at gate bell
heard_) Mrs. Somerton returned. (_runs to door, L. U. E.--ring
repeated_) Again! Stay--(_listening_) The window--quick! (_runs to
window_) A man in the garden, and cautiously making towards this
window. Who can he be? and what can be his object? Not the same as
mine surely--egad, that would be comical enough. If I could only
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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