Sketches by Boz, Illustrative of Every-Day Life and Every-Day PeopleDickens, Charles
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Sketches by Boz, Illustrative of Every-Day Life and Every-Day People
Dickens, Charles
London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century; London (England) -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
A change of performance takes place every day during the fair, but the
story of the tragedy is always pretty much the same. There is a
rightful heir, who loves a young lady, and is beloved by her; and a
wrongful heir, who loves her too, and isn’t beloved by her; and the
wrongful heir gets hold of the rightful heir, and throws him into a
dungeon, just to kill him off when convenient, for which purpose he
hires a couple of assassins—a good one and a bad one—who, the moment
they are left alone, get up a little murder on their own account, the
good one killing the bad one, and the bad one wounding the good one.
Then the rightful heir is discovered in prison, carefully holding a
long chain in his hands, and seated despondingly in a large arm-chair;
and the young lady comes in to two bars of soft music, and embraces the
rightful heir; and then the wrongful heir comes in to two bars of quick
music (technically called ‘a hurry’), and goes on in the most shocking
manner, throwing the young lady about as if she was nobody, and calling
the rightful heir ‘Ar-recreant—ar-wretch!’ in a very loud voice, which
answers the double purpose of displaying his passion, and preventing
the sound being deadened by the sawdust. The interest becomes intense;
the wrongful heir draws his sword, and rushes on the rightful heir; a
blue smoke is seen, a gong is heard, and a tall white figure (who has
been all this time, behind the arm-chair, covered over with a
table-cloth), slowly rises to the tune of ‘Oft in the stilly night.’
This is no other than the ghost of the rightful heir’s father, who was
killed by the wrongful heir’s father, at sight of which the wrongful
heir becomes apoplectic, and is literally ‘struck all of a heap,’ the
stage not being large enough to admit of his falling down at full
length. Then the good assassin staggers in, and says he was hired in
conjunction with the bad assassin, by the wrongful heir, to kill the
rightful heir; and he’s killed a good many people in his time, but he’s
very sorry for it, and won’t do so any more—a promise which he
immediately redeems, by dying off hand without any nonsense about it.
Then the rightful heir throws down his chain; and then two men, a
sailor, and a young woman (the tenantry of the rightful heir) come in,
and the ghost makes dumb motions to them, which they, by supernatural
interference, understand—for no one else can; and the ghost (who can’t
do anything without blue fire) blesses the rightful heir and the young
lady, by half suffocating them with smoke: and then a muffin-bell
rings, and the curtain drops.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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