SIDDONS An Object of Interest PR 5452 S18 03 AN OBJECT OF INTEREST. % faxcc. — In one ^rt. J. H. STOCQUELER, Esq., AUTHOB OP •'POLKAMANU," "A GOOD NAME," "THE SETES CHAUPIOKS OF CHKISTENDOM," ETC. ETC. fFith the original Casts, Costumes, and all the Stage Business. NEW YORK: SAMUEL FRENCH, 132 Nariat Strkct ' Vr 8TAiBa.) o . ■ ^ I « S rt 5^«3 ^'^ . CO ft* c — CO o P5 W o o m tf • iS X >■ •° 5 . 1- ^ — • O fct t*4 P=i l-i ^-l PhP< a coo PS w o o d iJ" S ^ m H 6 1-» ^ .^- - - S- = ■§1 SS3 -I o .2 £.2 »3 >5 00 tc i. ti U) = £ S I* = 3 5? «H&H-< •*: M 2 .2 g ->1 a g fe « 5 0! 2 O C5 Id I-] n os~; en o 5 pq O "3 4i "3 :f s a o ^ rt « & a O » W g g « 0'^ UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SANTA BARBARA AN OBJECT OF INTEEEST. SCENE I. — A Handsome Chamber. 1 g. Enter Mrs. Veenon, looking over a book of fashions, and readinf, B. H. Mrs. Vernon. " The cambric or muslin under-sleeve terminated by a single bouillon, moderately full, and trimmed with a Valenciennes lace ruflEle, falling over the hand." "The corsage is still worn low. Velvets are more a la mode than satins ; but, the choice of color being limited, the complexion of the wearer must, in a measure, determine the selection." Well, certainly, relief from the monotonous "trap- pings, and the suits of woe," does furnish a woman with a pleasing employment. Roving amidst the endless varieties of costume, a thou- sand agreeable pictures present themselves to the fancy. If we can neither buy, nor wear, all the elegant decorations suggested by the modiste, one can at least enjoy the luxury of imagining how one would look in them. Enter Fanny, 1 k. l. h. Fanny. Please, ma'am, he 's come. Mrs. V. Who 's come ? Fan. Your friend, ma'am — the gent with the 'starchers — Mrs. V. 'Starchers? Fan. Yes, ma'am ; them Life Guard whisker things. Mrs. V. 0, Mr. Simmerton. I 'd no idea it was so late ! Bid him come up ; and do you and Barney see that the drawing-room is in order. {Exit Fanny, 1 e. l. h.) Enter Mr. Seumeeton, l. h. 1 e. Mr. S. Well, beautiful widow, you see I take you at your word, and have come early to dinner. How enchanting you look ! Divested of the solemn suits of black in which I have been doomed to see you shroud your charms, you cast a refulgence — Mrs. V. 0, fiddle-de-dee ! A truce to hyperbole, my dear Sim- merton ; yon are come, and I 'm glad to see you — {shake hands) — that 's enough. I asked you thus early to let you into a little secret. My late excellent husband, whose love for me was deep and boundless as the Southern Ocean, made it a condition of his ample legacy, that when the term had expired during which respect for his memory 4 AN OBJECT OF INTEREST. and the decencies of society rendered it incumbent upon me to mourn, I should, if I felt inclined to renew in the society of another the hap- piness I had enjoyed with him, I should — Mr. S. What? Mrs. V. Seek out his oldest friend, Mr. Marmaduke Primrose, and give him a chance of offering himself — Mr. S. But you surely will not regard — Mrs. V. Pardon me, Mr. Simmerton ; I am bound by the ties of gi'at- itude, to say nothing of legal obligation, to observe my poor husband's injunctions. I have, therefore, taken advantage of the presence of Mr. Primrose in town, after, I am told, an absence of thirty years, to invite him to dinner here, this day. Mr. S. Mrs. Vernon — charming Mrs. Vernon ! Eliza, you distract me! What if he should — (he cannot do otherwise if he has eyes, senses, a heart) — I say if he should be captivated, and avail himself of his privilege — Mrs. V. Well, sir, and if he should ? Mr. S. Why, then, I — 0, but you surely will not ! — Mrs. V. It certainly is very obliging of j'ou to wish to take the trouble of judging for myself off my hands, but I ihi7ik I am yet com- petent to decide. If he should prove a personable man, an agreeable man, an amiable man — Afr. S. {Dolefully.) Then you — Mrs. V. {Mocking him.) Then I — ha, ha, ha! Don't alarm yourself, my dear fellow ; it 's not very likely I shall be induced so readily to change the sentiments a certain simpleton has inspired me with ; but I must conform to the letter of kind old Vernon's testament. Mr. S. Well, my dear widow, for your sweet sake I will endeavor to restrain my strong inclination to kick the fellow, and hope that, in consideration of my forbearance, you will abstain from liking him too much, even though he should combine the form of Apollo with the manners of — Mrs. V. Mr. Sydenham Simmerton ! Ha, ha ! Well, now away •while I retire to my apartment. I have asked the Culverins to come, in order to diversify the party a little ; and, while I draw out the mod- est Primrose, you can encourage the female Culverin to assail her consequential little Major with the explosions of her wit. Au revoir. {Exit, B. H.) Mr. S. An revoir, fair widow ! {Exit, l. h.) SCENE n. — A Drawing-room; folding doors ; doors, n. 1 e. A couch, h, n., placed diagonally, with bolster; round table, with vases and books; drawing-room furniture and ornaments ; two candles, one long, the other short; a card and side table, -R.n. Barney and Fanny, b., discovered dusting furniture; they stand apart. Barney. {Singing.) " At Cork lived Miss Molly O'Rig, ■\Vilh a nose like the snout of a pig; Long carroty locks, and ten pounds in the stocks, Was the fonuw nf Molly O'Rig. O, beautiful Molly O'Eig I " AN OBJECT OF INTEEEST. 6 Fanny. I think, when some people are alone with other people, they might have something nice to say, instead of singing about other people which is unbeknown. Jiur. Ah, then, Fanny, mavourneen, why do you put my pipe out with your side winds, and your you-know-endos ? Don't singing argufy a clane conscience and a happy spirit ? And would you grudge Barney his peace and good digestion ? Fan. Heaven forbid! It's a poor heart that never rejoices; but .when folks pretend they loves a person, they might behave as sich, and not be running their Molly O'Rigs. Bar. Ah, the darlint ! Sure it 's neither the nod nor the wink that Barney requires to tache him the duty and sarvice of a blind horse. Ck)me to my arms, and take your full Avhack of the honey of an Irish- man's lips ! Fan. Barney, no ! It is the privilege of our sex to be courted. If you 've anything to give, you can come and give it, — I an't a going all that way for a trifle. Bur. Then meet me half way, my jewel, or I '11 be thinking your love is all for yourself {He advances a little, with liis back towards her, drawinij a chair, ivhich he continues to dust.) Fan. {Also advancing, with her back to Barxet.) No — it's not becoming a young woman. A precious forward minx you'd think me if I wei'e to be at your beck and call on all occasions. Bar. {Still movint/.) Divil a bit ! I would n't be after paying my- self so bad a compliment. However, suit yourself Fan. (Still moviu//.) Well, I am suiting myself. I am a queen in my own little way, and think proper to remain in one spot ; thus — {(hey suddenly jostle dos-a-dos) — hollo ! 0, you 've come here, have you ? Bar. Faith, then, it 's yourself that has shortened the distance mightily. I 'm only half way there, and here you are. Fan. 0, if it's disagreeable, I can go back, you know ! Bar. {Puttinf/ his arm round her.) Disagreeable! Roses and lilies ! Tulips and cai'nations ! Did ye ever see the Irishman that thought it unpleasant to have a pretty girl by his side ? 0, the dar- lint ! {Kisses her.) Fan. O! {Putting her hand to her face.) Bar. What 's the matter? Fan. It 's my belief yo>i haven't shaved this morning. Bar. You 're out there, my jewel, for I gave myself an extra scrape, by raison of the party to-day. Fan. 0, drat tlicni parties ! they alwaj-s bring extra work to us servants. Bar. That 's true for you ; but isn't the half-crowns, and the shil- lings, and the bottoms of the decanters, a nice sort of compensation ? And don't the fine talk of the gentlefoliis improve the mind, and tache manners free gratis, for nothing? Och, be aisy about the extra work — give me a j'arty every day in the week ! Fan. Every one for himself; for my part, I begin to hate service in any shape ; it 's the same thing from morning till night. One might as well be a cart-wheel going round, and round, and round ; better, indeed, for then one might meet with a stone, or rut, to make 1* 8 AN OBJECT OF INTEREST. things go rougher, and more comfortable. Here all is as smooth as a bowling-green. Bar. Old Nick fly away with me if you haven't the oddest taste (barring your love for Barney) I ever seed ! I suppose you 'd like a few misfortunes to make you happy ! The trouble 's a pleasure to you in raal right down arnest. Fan. I don't know about misfortune, but I should like some sort of excitement — something to make me a hobject of hinterest. Bar. On my sowl then I don't think that would be so mighty diffi- cult. Could n't you smash an alabaster vase, accidentally on purpose, or kill the lap-dog, or set the chimbley on fire ? Fan. Pshaw ! that 's ridiculous ! I mean, I should like to be sus- pected of some horrid crime unjustly. I 've been reading " Susan Hopley." I 've seen a play about her, too, — wasn't she a hinterest- ing young woman, neither ? Then, there 's the Maid and the Magpie. Would n't I have liked to have been the Maid ? Bar. And me the Magpie, is it ? Fan. To be wrongfully suspected of picking and stealing ; to be persecuted for nothing by a wicked magistrate ; to support a heavy father in a black cloak, and one's innocence to be proved by some spoons in a belfry ! Bar. Arrah, musha, but you have a quare foncy, anyhow ! If I had a father to suppoi't, I had rather he was a light weiglit ; and as for spoons in a belfry, while there 's such a lot of them on terra firma ground, I don't see why you need go steeple-chasing after them. Fan. It 's a pity some people's sense an't equal to their wit, — they would not play with other people's feelings as they do. {Double knock, L. II.) There, there — run, there's the postman ; drat his knocks, they send one's heart into one's mouth. Bar. Faith, a lucky man he must be to move your heart at all — that same postman. It 's what I could never do for the life of me. {Exit Bakney, l.) Fan. Ay, ay — all very fine words, but they don't make a lover. What 's the good of a lover as sings and dances ? It an't worth a woman's while to keep company with sich. Give me one whose heart '11 soon break, whose soul is rent by the pangs of jealousy ; his an't taxed with no rent — he an't got a soul. The gentleman as dined here t' other day chucked me under the chin as he took himself out of the hall door, and gave me half a crown ; but Barney warn't jealous — a unfeeling wretch! If I'd seen anybody chuck Barney under the chin, where would have been her eyes, I should like to know? I 'd soon have dotted them eyes, and no mistake. 0, I 'm a very unhappy young 'oman, indeed ! I 'm no hobject of hinterest to anybon its being found I Air. S. Slic means something else. Here, quick — put it behind th' — no — here, here — under t!ie ."^ofa ]»illow. (Mn. Primrose put* sword nhder bolster of sofu, ivitli the hilt projecting.) Mr.s. Vernon enters n., 1 e. Mrs. V. Ah, my dear Mr. Simmcrton, I'm delighted to see yoo, Mr. Primrose, I believe. {Crosses to him.) AN OBJECT OF INTEREST. 11 Prim. Yes, madam, at your service — purely glad to see my old chum Vernon's ■widow looking so blooming. Jlfrs. V. You have come up, I see by the papei's, on public busi- ness. Prim. Yes, madam. All in our parts are in a l;ad way about these railroads, so we 've come up to scold Home Secretary a bit. There 's Bumble, and Snacks, and Withers, who keep tiiree hotels on the main road to Bucksley; and Doh£on,aiid Hookey, the coach proprietors; and Blingsby, who has a power of pott-hoi'ses. They '11 be ruined by these uew-faugled schemes. Mr. S. A most disinterested body, truh'. But how are you, affected ? Prim. Why, they all buy hay and corn and oats of me ; and ye know rail trains dou't eat ! Steam engines have no stomachs, and, besides, I 'lu proprietor of the houses thej' occupy, which 'uU all be vacant if the road be done up — so like a good patriot I 've joined the opposition. Mrs. V. Then of course your arguments were irrefragable, and the Secretary listened to you ? Prim. Did he ? Dom'd if he did n't larf at us ! Enter Bahn'et, l. Bar. Major and Mrs. Culverin. Enter Major and Mrs. Culverix, l. Exit B.-iKXET, l. Mrs. V. My dear Mrs. C, this is so kind of you, and the dear Major too — (crosses to him) — to come so far to visit a lone widow. It 's an age since we met. {The Major bows solemnly.) Mrs. C. Ah, my dear, it 's quite a mercy we are here. Mrs. V. Good gracious I — what can have happened ? You alarm me ! Mrs. C. Just as the coachman — Mrs. V. Yes. Mrs. C. Had closed the door, after we had gone in — Yes — ! Away went the horses, down Baker-street — Good heavens ! Along Oxford-street — Mercy ! To the Regent Circus — Yes. Mrs. C. As hard as they could tear. Mrs. V. What in the name of mercy did you do? Mrs. C. Clung to the Major — Mrs. V. Yes. Mrs. C. Pale with affright — (I must have looked a horrid pic- ture) — and utterly speechless — Mrs. V. Did n't you scream ? Mrs. C. No — Mrs. V. 0, I should have put ray head out of the window and screeched murder. And what did the Major ? Mrs. V. .Mrs. c. Mrs. V. Mrs. c. Mrs. V. Mrs. c. Mrs. V. 12 AN OBJECT OF INTEREST. Major. Sat calm — unruffled — resigned — 0, ah I Mrs. C. Did you ? It was the calmness of fear. You were aghast, like myself. It was a case of double paralysis. Major. 0, hah ! hum ! Mrs. V. Well, and then — Mrs. C. Then, when I thought we were on the brink of perdition, somebody stopped the horses, and we were saved ! Mrs. V. What a miracle ! .Major. Was it not ? Mr. S. Mrs. Culverin, I reallj' must apologize for not answering your invitation fur last Monday — I was away. Bob Snifl'kins pro- posed a week's fishing at Twickenham ; so down we went, and have done a bit of piscatorial ever since. Major. I envy you — charming pastime, calm, tranquil, dignified — dib — bob — splash , eh ? Prim. Pleasant ! For my part, I never hear of a man angling, but I think of wliat the old dictionary chap said. " A stick and a string, a worm and a " — Major. Sir, I execrate Dr. .Johnson's memory for that very obser- vation. Mrs. C. And therefore Major C. revenges himself by disregarding the laws of orthography. He spells pliilanthropist with an F ? Prim. Well, and how else would you spell it, I should like to know ? Oinnes. Ha, ha, ha ! lict'iilcr Barney, c. Bar. Dinner is on the table, ma'am. {Exit, 0.) Mrs. V. Mr. Primrose, j-our arm — Mr. Simmerton, will you take Mrs. Culverin ? — Major will bring up the rear. {Exeunt Omiics in order, through door injlat, C.) After a pause — Fanny enters,, with her hair dishevelled, R. Fan. They are gone, and here I may give way to sorrow without interruption. {Sits down.) Such is missusses — years of honesty ia forgotten in a moment — kind service and obliging tempers is set down for notiiin'. H