A Little Change: A Farce in One SceneGrundy, Sydney
General
A Little Change: A Farce in One Scene
Grundy, Sydney
Comedy plays; English drama -- 19th century
MRS. P. Oh, you jealous man! You're envious of his success amongst the
ladies.
EDWIN. I should like to cut his whiskers off.
MRS. P. And so shear Samson of his strength.
EDWIN. However, I won't vent my malice upon you; I must point out the
beauties of the neighbourhood. It won't take long.
MRS. P. We'd better go outside to see them, hadn't we?
EDWIN. I think you'll see enough of them from where you stand. Now,
are you looking?
MRS. P. Yes.
EDWIN. Up there's the sky.
MRS. P. Well, I've seen that before.
EDWIN. Oh, if you think that you'll see anything in Dumpington you
haven't seen before, why, you'll be disappointed.
MRS. P. Well, what next?
EDWIN. Down there's the sand.
MRS. P. Yes, don't they call it something else? Not sand, but
something like it.
EDWIN. Strand?
MRS. P. Strand! that's it.
EDWIN. Yes, some people call it strand. The grocers call it sugar.
MRS. P. How very playful of them! Well, go on, and tell me the next beauty.
EDWIN. Over there's the sun.
MRS. P. But I can't look at that, because of my complexion.
EDWIN. Oh! I'm sorry you can't look at that, because it's the last
beauty of Dumpington.
MRS. P. Is that all?
EDWIN. That's all.
MRS. P. Good gracious, how do people pass their time here?
EDWIN. In the morning, they sit and look at the sun. In the evening,
they sit and look at the moon. Oh dear, I quite forgot--occasionally
you can see the sea.
MRS. P. The sea!
EDWIN. Sometimes--through a strong telescope.
MRS. P. You goose, it's there.
EDWIN. Why so it is, the tide has actually arrived. For the first time
in the ten days that I have been at Dumpington the tide is coming in.
It's always been going out before. Hush! Hark!
MRS. P. What to?
EDWIN. The music of the spheres. (_a German band strikes up outside_)
BOTH. Oh law!
_Exeunt arm-in-arm through window, to stop band._
_Enter CAPTAIN PLUNGER, led by WAITER, L_.
WAITER. This is the public room, sir.
CAPT. Oh, good gracious, do send some one out to stop that very brassy
band. (_it stops_)
WAITER. The band, sir? Oh, that's nothing. You should hear the Christy
Minstrels--them as never play in London, sir--the two men with the
harp and fiddle, the blind man with the accordion, the woman with the
tambourine, the lad with the tin whistle, the three foreign girls with
the two banjoes and a drum, the Punch and Judy Show, the bagpipes, and
the barrel-organs With the monkeys, all agoing at once. It makes it
very lively, sir.
CAPT. Yes, deadly lively.
WAITER. Dumpington is very musical.
CAPT. Then, Dumpington is very different from its musicians.
WAITER. It's the children what they play to, sir. We've a large family
on the ground floor just recovering from the measles, a small family
on the floor above as have just had the whooping cough--oh, in the
night, sir, they whoops awful--and a middling family in the next room
what's just halfway through the scarlet fever; and a very nice attack
they're having.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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