F 855- .4- BANCROFT LIBRARY > THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 7 o < -W -S - 2- SOLID SILVER A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS : PERFORMED AT THE CALIFORNIA THKATRK SAN FRANCISCO. CAL. B Y WILLIAM H. L. SAN FRANCISCO 1871. SOLID SILVER A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. AS PERFORMED AT THE CALIFORNIA THEATRE SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. BY WILLIAM H. L. BARNES. SAN FRANCISCO: 1871. ENTERED ACCORDING TO ACT OF CONGRESS, IN THE COPYRIGHT OFFICE OF THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, WASHINGTON, D. C. , NOVEMBER 20, 1871. 6 o ar BANCROFT LIBRARY of AS PERFORMK1) AT THK CALIFORNIA THEATRE, San Francisco, Cal. Paul Weir Mr. JOHN McCuLLOUGH The Earl De la Lande Mr. FRED FRANKS Captain Gerard Morris Mr. W. A. MESTAYER Mr. Sponge, Senior Mr. HENRY EDWARDS Mr. Sponge, Junior Mr. J. C. WILLIAMSON Mr. Oldcastle Mr. SEDLEY SMITH Mr. Barclay Mr. G EORGE FRENCH Leon Mr. EDMUND LEATHES Bertha Huntingdon Miss MAY HOWARD Kate Delaire Miss MINNIE WALTON Lady Emily Peele Miss LMOGENE VANDYKE Countess De la Lande Miss Lou. JOHNSTON Mrs. Weir Mrs. JUDAH Mrs. Busby Mrs. C. R. SAUNDERS Clementine Miss Lou. HARMES Stage business, cast of characters, relative positions, etc., arranged and correctly marked by Mr. ROBERT M. EBERLE, Assistant Stage Manager, California Theatre. EDWARD BOSQUI & CO., PRINTERS, BOOKBINDERS AND STATIONERS, LEIDESDORFF STREET, FROM CLAV TO COMMERCIAL, SAN FRANCISCO. SOLID SILVER. ACT FIBST. SCENE I. Room at Huntingdon Towers; half library, half office. Portrait of young lady over door at L. Chairs, hat-rack, etc. Large library lamp burning on table at back. PAUL. (Rising from seat at secretary, R. H.) I am tired as an old man : I am weary of life and my father's honorable name. I hate this place, and yet can not tear myself away from it. I loathe my daily duties, yet can not abandon them. Those who bring their flatteries here, as slaves bring tribute to a queen, are of no better lineage than I. Yet, poverty leaves me only the solace of honest labor. [Looking up at the portrait over the mantel, L. H. 2o E.] Ah! you never change that sweet smile as you seem to listen, while I dare to say "I love you;" but when your living presence comes and has gone, I deride myself for speaking, even to you, save as a servant speaks. Ko ! my heart shall listen to my reason, If I can not conquer myself, I w r ill at least hug my secret as closely as a murderer holds his, and bewail my dead hope in solitude. I will bury it with labor. [Sits at desk R. H. Enter, unob- served by PAUL, Captain MORRIS, JOHN SPONGE, Sr., and JOHN SPONGE, Jr. R. c.] Yes, by heaven, life is labor. I sentence myself to work as perpetual in degree, if not in kind, as that of the ploughman or railway-navvy. I hail them both as comrades ! From this moment I abandon 6 SOLID SILVER. that unhealthy pride which has so often urged me to seclu- sion, or to criminal effort to make a gentleman of myself, such as some of these who haunt her footsteps. CAPTAIN MORRIS, (R. C.) (Interrupting, to SPONGE, Sr.) Did he speak to me ? Quite eloquent, I declare ! Sponge, when you stand for Parliament, let this orator present your cause to his friends of the working-classes. SPONGE, SR. (C.) Let the man alone. I presume he is Miss Hunting- don's secretary, or steward ; isn't he, John ? SPONGE, JR. (L. H.) Dunno, Governor. Shall I speak to him, Governor ? MORRIS. As somebody says, be mine the pleasing task. [Going up to PAUL, who has observed them and then resumed his work, and tapping him on the shoulder with his cane.~\ My man, you don't know me ? PAUL. MORRIS. Where 's Miss Huntingdon ? PAUL. (Rising.} I don't know. MORRIS. I think you Ve heard of me ! my name is Captain Mor- ris, of the Sixteenth Lancers, cousin to Miss Huntingdon, and here by her invitation, w T ith my friends, to pass a few days. PAUL. I have heard many things of you, if you are the person to whom these estates revert in the event of Miss Hun- tingdon's death, with no children surviving her. gCBNBI. SOLID SILYKK. 7 MORRIS. That 's me. So far as I know, the likeness is correct, Sponge, eh ? if/c, Jr. retires up, examining books, pictures, etc.'] He knows you well enough for the present. Don't push the man's knowledge too far ; it won't pay. MORRIS. Since you do recall me, my man, allow me to ask if you are too far removed from the position of butler to tell me what apartments have been reserved for my friends and myself ? PAUL. I will ring for a servant, who can inform you, sir. [Rings bell. Enter LEON, (R. 1 E.) Leon, these gentlemen say they are expected guests. Ask Mrs. Busby where their apartments are and show them the way. LEON. Madame Busby has already informed me where they repose themselves. Messieurs, I am at your service. [ Crosses up to L. 3 E. SPONGE, JR. (L. H., back to audience.) Go easy a minute, Frenchy ; I'm looking round a tri- fle. I say, Mr. - PAUL. (R. H.) Weir. SPONGE, JR. Weir, then, who 's that handsome gal * hanging over the mantel there ? [ All turn towards L. H. and look at pic- ture.'} PAUL. That is a portrait of Miss Huntingdon, the owner of this house. 8 SOLID SILVER, SCENE i. SPONGE, SR. (C.) What ? let me see it ! God, how healthy she looks ! [ To MORRIS.] Say, I thought you told me MORRIS. (R. C.) Well, well, never mind now, Sponge ; let us go to our apartments. [ To LEON.] Confound you, sir, why don't you go ? What are you waiting for, you idiot ? LEON. I don't know, Monsieur. Messieurs, the father and son will repose in those apartments, [pointing to door L. 3 E. of scene,] and will use this one at their convenience. I will show this gentleman his apartment in another part of the house. [Cross to R. H. 3 E. LEON and MORRIS exit R. 3 E.; SPONGE, Jr. and SPONGE, Sr. L. 3 E. In a moment, SPONGE, Sr. returns. PAUL seats himself at desk.~\ SPONGE, SR. Excuse me, young gentleman, no offense I hope, in asking a question or two ? no questions no lies, is the old saying ; 110 questions no knowledge, is my motto. You see, I'm in a sort of financial bother which I don't like, and I don't mind paying, if that will help me out of it. Is that really Miss Huntingdon's picture up there ? PAUL. I told you before that it was, did I not ? SPONGE, SR. So you did. But a man must be told a thing twice, and oftener, which he does n't want to believe, before he takes it all in, don't you see ? Painted some time ago, you said ? PAUL. It was taken in the spring. You won't see many faces as radiant with the grace and beauty of youth and perfect health as hers. Angels in heaven may look more pure, but there are none more angelic than she. Why SPONGE, SR. Yes, yes ; I understand all that, and am glad she's SCENE i. SOLID SILVER. 9 good, for the comfort of her friends when she's gone. I'm going to get in some of it myself one of these days. No time 1 just now. How lon^ can she live, now, do you think? PAUL. I hope many, many years will pass before nature will claim its debt of her sweet life. SPOXGE, SK. Yon hope so ? Well, christianly speaking, so do I ; but in a business point of view, I can't admit the propo- sition. I supposed now she was feeble, decrepit, con- sumptive, and couldn't hang on, say, well not much be- yond the close of the present fiscal year. PAUL (starting up.} Who told you such a falsehood as that ? Feeble ? De- crepit ? I wish you could have seen her this morning, coming up the avenue on her huge thoroughbred horse "Titan." He was swinging along, with eyes of fire and wide-opened nostrils ; his great brown limbs striking now on the turf and now on the gravel, his slender mane stand- ing straight out, like a flag in a hurricane -just as he came in winner at the Ascot last year ; while she rode him so gloriously and fearlessly, with such a color in her cheeks and such a light in her eyes, that no living man could associate the idea of decay and death with her, and none but a double-dyed scoundrel could wish her dead. Who told you that lie, I say ? SPONGE, SR. Softly, softly, my young friend ; I don't like your lan- fuage, and your manner is unbusiness-like in the extreme, wish to regard the subject without nonsensical enthusi- asm. I'm too old for it, by Jove ! I only said what I supposed to be a fact, and wanted you to make me more certain of; and I've got your views as fully as I want 'em, too. PAUL. Excuse me if I am rude to you, an old man and a stran- ger ; but I could not endure to hear Miss Huntingdon so spoken of. B 10 SOLID SILVER. SCENE i. SPONGE, SR. You are a relative, I presume ? PAUL. I am simply her agent, secretary and servant. My father was vicar of this parish, and greatly beloved by her's. So on his death, and for my mother's sake, I was appointed to my present place, and have held it five years. SPONGE, SR. [AH through the folloimnc/ dialogue SPONGE Sr. tries to meddle with the papers and books in the desk. PAUL pre- vents him.'] Keep the accounts, know how the money tide rises and falls, rentes, consols, three per cents., and all that, I sup- pose ? PAUL. Oh, yes ! I keep the accounts, and something beside ! SPONGE, SR. 5 "What's that ? PAUL. My own counsel. [SPONGE tries to examine ledger. PAUL closes it and lays his hand on it.'] SPONGE, SR. Hum. I suppose, now, there are no incumbrances upon the estate ? PAUL. None. SPONGE, SR. No timber being cut either, I should say ? [ Trying to examine papers in pigeon-holes of desk.'] PAUL. None. [Closes desk, locks it, and stands with his back leaning against it.~\ SPONGE, SR. Any likelihood of marriage ? SCENE i. SOLID SILVER, 11 PAUL. I do not know. SPONGE, SR. You ought to know. Your opportunities for observa- tion are A 1, gilt-edged, as we say of paper. If you don't know, I do. PAUL (starts from desk.) What do you know ? How can you, who are a stranger to the family, know anything on such a subject? She has no lover, at least, no declared lover ; certainly none who would dare approach her. SPONGE, SR. For all that she will marry soon, and I lay you some- thing handsome I can name the man. PAUL. Who, who is he ? (Advances c.) SPONGE, SR. Captain Gerard Morris, reversioner of her estates and her maternal cousin. He is a fascinating dog, detested by men, I admit, but adored by women, and she can't withstand him. As for him, ecod, he must marry her or PAUL. Or what ? SPONGE, SR. Xever you mind ! That's my business, and John Sponge, sr., proposes to attend to it. That's what he's here for, and [Takes Stage L. IL] Enter LEON, (c. from R.) [Bringing hat boxes, portmanteaus, etc., which he places on the floor near the door L. 3 E.] LEON (advances c.) Monsieur Paul, I know not what I shall do. The big one swear at his apartment and demand the best brandy already four times, and the little one smoke his nasty pipe in his room, and so Madame Busby is lunatic with the annoyance of it. 12 SOLID SILVER. SCENE i. PAUL. Mr. Sponge, you had better remind your son that this is not an inn. As to the other, Leon, he must go his own way. Let him alone, and quiet Mrs. Busby as best you can. LEON. (C.) She shall not be quiet while she will inhale the odor of that pipe. [LEON retires up stage.'] SPONGE, SR. (advancing towards WEIR.) Good night, Mr. Weir. Thanks for favors. I'll make that pipe sing in shortmetre. D 11 that boy ! he's as vicious as a monkey, and has no more manners than a Bow- street bailiff. As for the other, Mrs. Busby had better adapt her temper to his. He's a born devil, if ever there was one, and must stay here as master, either by mar- riage or death. To me, as a business proposition, it don't matter which. But she'd find it easier to die and yield the lands, than live and share them with him. But busi- ness is business. Good night, good night. {Exit L. 3 E. LEON. Where's Mrs. Busby, Leon ? [LEON advances, L. c.] I hope you left her more at ease than you said. PAUL. By no means. When I last saw her in the corridor, she was all ready to make a descent on the smoker at least, if not the drunkard, as she called them. I think I hear her now, sir. [Looking off R. 1 E.] PAUL. Heaven forbid ; I will go myself and dissuade her from the attack. LEON. I will follow sir, but at a safe distance (R. 1 E.) [Exeunt. [Enter young SPONGE, L. 3 E. When SPONGE, Jr. enters, he picks up portmanteau near door, brings it forward ; sits in arm-chair R. of L. table ; takes key out of pocket, unlocks portmanteau, and commences to take out things ; shirts, collars, suspenders, slippers, bootjack, etc. ; is smoking a big pipe, and making lots of smoke with iL~] SCENE i. SOLID SILVER, 13 SPONGE, JR. This is comfortable, indeed, and a mighty fine house ; beats all I ever was allowed to put my feet inside of. How such an up-and-down vagabond as our captain could come of such stock I don't understand. The governor and I aren't gentlemen, and don't pretend to be. We're business men, and our connection with the blooded ones only helps them to get to the devil a trifle taster than they otherwise would. But this one he does, every day of his life, what we could not do, and never blushes at anything but his brandy when it goes the wrong way. [Mrs. BUSBY enters, R. 1 E., walks up to SPONGE ; stands gaz- ing at A//// UL amazement.'] If it wasn't too dear a luxury, I'd wish him dead and pay for his funeral, I would, by [perceirc* Mrs. BUSBY] Hullo ! my charmer, happy to see you ; sit down while 1 hunt up my bootjack and get these French boots off my trotters. Then [gets down on his knees at portmanteau?] MRS. BUSBY. Sir, Mister, whatever you are, I came to say SPONGE, JR. (looking up.) No apologies, Ma'am, I beg [puff]. You needn't excuse yourself to me for crowing in your own barnyard. In your place I'll do the same, [puff"] an( l you're safe here, I'll swear ; [p>(tf ] your face would protect you among the Mormons [puff]- But don't you look in my mirror with that cap on. It would shiver to a thousand atoms, [/> f (ff ] and I hain't seen such a costume as that since my grandma used to put me in my little bed. Ah, here's the bootjacker! so now I'll have these calfskins off in a moment. MRS. BUSBY. If it's for calfskin, you'd better pull your hide off the whole of it ! Of all the impudent young dogs, to talk that way to a decent old body like me ! Young man, what do you take me for ? [Ail through the dialogue, and until he puts pipe out, he puffs the smoke in Mrs. B.'s face, and she keeps coughing and xhows her annoyance."] 14 SOLID SILVER. SCENE i. SPONGE, JR. Don't want you ; won't take you on any terms. How old are you ? Where 'd you get that awning over your front door ? Where's your dagger, Lady Macbeth ? Blessed if you don't look homicidal, anyhow ! Come near me, and I'll brain you with my bootjack, and kiss you afterwards. [Stands in attitude with bootjack.'] MRS. BUSBY. You insolent little villain, look at me. I'm a respecta- ble woman, and have been housekeeper in Huntingdon Towers [coughs'] ever since its present mistress was born, [coughs'] and I'll have you to understand that no such creature as you ever got between sheets in this house before [coughs], I came to ask you to put up that ras- cally pipe, or go down to the smoking room and blow your little brains out with tobacco there [coughs']. It fills the house with the odor of a tavern, and poisons every breath of air in it. SPONGE, JR. JTow you speak of it, Mrs. Johnson, I think I smell something myself. MRS. BUSBY. Faugh ! Will you put that pipe out or not ? And don't you dare to call me Mrs. Johnson again, Mr. what's your name. SPONGE, JR. To oblige you, Grandma, [Mrs. B. appears very indig- nant], I will quench it. There she goes. \_Puts pipe down.'] My name is not what's y'r name any more than your own. It is John Sponge, Jr. My Governor's some- where about, pumping the clerk, or whatever he is, whom we saw when we came in. MRS. BUSBY. I'd like to know how you got in ! SPONGE, JR. Well, I won't mind telling you, as it is you, dearest. Captain Morris invited us here to see his estates, on which SCENE i. SOLID SILVER. 15 we have made large advances to put him straight at Tattersall's for he lost heavy at the last Derby, I tell you. Now you know me and why I'm here anything more, A I rs. Dobson ? MRS. BUSBY. is'o, sir. I knew all you have told me before you said it. Only let me give you my opinion that Captain Morris' chances to get these estates, as you call them, ain't worth a dairy full of milk in a thunder shower. SPONGE, JR. Indeed ! MRS. BUSBY. IS'o, sir, and you won't think so either when you see the present holder ; and if her giving out is the only way for you to get your money back, why, let it go, and do you start for town by the morning train, and pick up a new pigeon for plucking. SPONGE, JR. I wish you'd put all that in writing and hand it to me in the morning. \_Gapes.~] It's a jolly opinion! Ain't you sorry for us ? MRS. BUSBY. Xo, sir ; serves you right. [ Takes stage R. H.] You asked my opinion. Kow you've got it, I hope you like it. Enter SPONGE, Sr. [Advances c, with carpet bag, which he picks up near door, where LEON has placed it.~\ SPONGE, JR. Hullo, Governor. Glad you've come ; was afraid one time I was going to be sacrificed. But it's all right now. The ancient and me are at peace. My pipe is out, but she holds fire still. [Gets up ; puts valise L. H.] SPONGE, SR., (C.) Hold your tongue. Excuse me, ma'am, can I do any- thing for you ? If not, I'll go about my business, which is to prepare myself for bed. \_Pulls out a nightcap and puts it on, and takes off his coat. Mrs. BUSBY precipitately 16 SOLID SILVER. SCENE i. retires R. 1 E.] Thank God she's gone. John, if I see that pipe in your mouth again while we're here, dam 'me, I'll jam it down your throat, bowl and all. We've got trouble enough without a war with women. Do you know where the captain's room is ? If you do, go there. If you don't, find it, and tell him I want to see him here, at once. SPONGE, JR., (L. H.) All right, Governor, just as you say, but I don't believe he'll come. [Crosses R. H. in front.~] SPONGE, SR., (savagely). "Why not ? SPONGE, JR. You know yourself he's likely to be very obstinate at this hour. SPONGE, SR., (sits R. of L. table.) Tell him he must come, and while you're gone I'll open my writing case and get out the documents. \_Exit SPONGE, Jr., R. 3 E.] These are my persuaders. Bow- street and the debtors' lock-up are powerful arguments. Let me see four and two are six, which I took of him myself ; three and one is four, I bought of the Levi's, accepted by his uncle, Colonel Delaire only the accep- tances are mistakes of my captain, which would land him in Newgate or Botany Bay, or wherever else they send blunderers in chirography. The game is almost played out. [Enter Captain MORRIS, in dressing gown, slippers, etc., accompanied by SPONGE, Jr.] MORRIS. My dear Sponge, why send this cub of yours for me at this time ? [Lounges in chair near desk, R. H.] SPONGE, SR. Because I wanted you. MORRIS. There is nothing come due since we parted that I re- member, and by Jove, I've signed away my soul to you already. SCENE 1. SOLID SILVER. 17; SPONGE, SR. !N"ot to me ; to the devil, you mean. MORRIS. It 's all one, Sponge ; but what 's up ? SPONGE, SR. I want a talk with you. The matter is just here : I lend you 10,000 on your own notes, and take up 5,000 of acceptances of Colonel Delaire, your uncle, which you had discounted with the Levis. MORRIS. Is that all ? Do you know I was afraid it was 20,000 ? I have been more moderate than I thought. SPONGE, SR. ]N~ever fear, it will be larger than it is \ Well, for this 15,000 you give me as security a mortgage on your reversionary interest in the Huntingdon estates. MORRIS. Good security, isn't it ? SPONGE, SR. In one sense, yes. But to persuade me to take it, you tell me the present holder is in feeble health and likely to drop off any time, while from all I see and hear, she is likely to outlive you, and me too I Morris, I always be- lieved you to be a villain, and now I'd swear to it. MORRIS. Your statement presents all the phenomena of virtuous truth, Sponge. What next ? I reserve comment. SPONGE, SR. Ah, you reserve your defense, as gentlemen of your sort say before the magistrates. Well, reserve it for the night ; I'll go to town to-morrow and have you brought to book, as sure as my credit is good on 'Change for what I put my name to. MORRIS. As you like, Sponge. I'm so nearly at bay that it C 18 SOLID SILVER. SCENE i. makes small odds to me what you do ; but it strikes me, you had best allow me to play my last card, which is a tolerable good one, for our mutual benefit, and it may win for us both. SPONGE, JR. But, Morris, you've such a deuced bad name in this house ; worse here, I should say, than in London. They paint the lily, by Jove, even here. MORRIS, (indifferently.] How do you know ? SPONGE, JR. I heard the old woman, who called on me so politely a while ago, and that French waiter, discussing you as I came along the corridor. It's no matter what they said in detail ; the total was a bad balance to your moral credit. MORRIS. Don't be so sure, my infant Shylock. But as I was saying, [to SPONGE, Sr.] I think the best way is not to abandon yourself to despair till I have lost all ; and all is not yet lost, by a lon.g shot. SPONGE, SR. You mean that marriage is the game you will play? MORRIS. Exactly so. It is the only alternative from the death I promised you, and [rising, going up c.] Well? Well? MORRIS. You shall have one or the other within the month. Good night. [Exit Captain MORRIS, R. 3 E. SPONGE, JR. Governor, that's a very bad lot. [Rising from sofa and coming to L. of table.'] SPONGE, SR. ^ So it is. Where's my prayer book ? [After a pause, SPONGE, Jr. and SPONGE, Sr. exchange looks. SPONGE, Sr. SCENE i. SOLID SILVER. 19 open* ctirjit /-/^/v, W,vx nut prayer book.~\ What are the psalms for to-day? What day is this? To-morrow, I3ulger's note is due, and we've got insurance coming in on that loss of the " Comet." Yes, to-day's the twenty- fifth, and I'll read those for to-day, to please your mother. SPONGE, JR. It's a big loss, but I'll stand my share of it, and drop the whole job, if you will consent. There's something in such a conspiracy against an orphan girl's life or property that tastes worse than bad tobacco and stale beer to me. SPONGE, SR. .Don't be a fool, and don't interrupt your father's evening devotions. Business is business, and we'll do no more till to-morrow. [Reads very busily.'] SPONGE, JR. Certainly, Governor ! By the way, did I tell you I heard great news of the Cornwall shares, just as we were leaving town ? Snapper met me on 'Change, and says he - - SPONGE, SR. ( Throwing down the book on table and rising very nimbly. SPONGE, Jr. rises same time and follows his father toward c.) ]S"o, you did not. What was it ? If they advance five per cent., will sell all ours, and give 'em five hundred more seller thirty. We'll sell on a rising market, and leave fools to unload in the panic. How much advance, eh ? [SPONGE, Sr. speaks rapidly and in a very excited manner."] [SPONGE, Jr. takes up the book, seats himself in his father's chair very deliberately, and reads with great affected diligence!] SPONGE, SR. Come, John ! Don't keep me waiting all night, John ! SPONGE, JR. I ain't a fool. Don't interrupt your son's evening devo- tions to the golden calf. Business is business, and we will do no more till to-morrow. G^C U R T A I N.; ACT SECOND. SCENE I. Drawing-room at Huntingdon Towers, elegantly furnished. KATE DELAIRE discovered sitting at table at R. arranging flowers ; near her stands CLEMEN- TINE, BERTHA'S maid. KATE. Clementine, where 's your mistress ? CLEMENTINE. She is out on horseback, Miss Kate. KATE. Did she go alone ? CLEMENTINE. The Captain accompanied her, Miss Kate. KATE. How she endures him I can't understand ; interfering, as he does, with every act of her life, and as full of dicta- tion as a full-grown husband. Yet she only says, " Yes, Captain Morris," and "!N"o, cousin," instead of cuffing his big ears and sending him, like one of his own soldiers, to the right-about. Bah ! it makes me sick, I declare ! CLEMENTINE. For all that, he is by no means sure of his ground. He ottered me a guinea, the day before yesterday, to ask her what she thought of him, and report her answer. KATE. No ! Did he, though ? It would not cost him a guinea to get my opinion of him. 22 SOLID SILVER. SCENE i. CLEMENTINE. Don't you think him handsome, at least ? KATE. He's a perfect ogre ! But handsome or homely, I would not have such a lover if I lived unmarried in this life, and hereafter nursed cats in the lower region, as they say old maids do. CLEMENTINE. I think all men would make slaves of all women, if they had the courage. KATE. Well, my husband may bully me, and I presume he will the brutes generally do ; but my lover shan't, that's certain. Did you take his guinea, Clementine ? CLEMENTINE. I don't look a woman to refuse a guinea, do I ? Of course I took it, and also the brandyfied kiss he graciously bestowed along with it, without a murmur. KATE. Did he have the impudence to do that ? And you allowed it ? Clementine, you ought to be ashamed. CLEMENTINE. Bless you, Miss Kate, servants get used to that, when men like the Captain are in the way. KATE. Clementine, I'll tell Miss Bertha, as soon as I see her. I will, indeed. CLEMENTINE. Oh, I told her myself. KATE. What did she say ? CLEMENTINE. She laughed, and said she wouldn't be in my place for a good deal. Ah ! I hear her coming in the hall door. Excuse me, Miss Kate. [Courtsies and goes towards door at back and centre of sceneJ] SCENE i. SOLID SILVER. 23 Enter BERTHA, in riding habit, tall hat wrapped with white veil, riding whip, etc. BERTHA. (Kissing Kate, throws herself into sofa, L. H.) Good morning, Kate. Oh ! I am so hot ! I've had such a race on dear old "Titan," and we've both come in piping, I can tell you. Oh, Kate ! where did you get those lovely flowers 'r I went all through the garden, yesterday, and found none worth picking ; they were all wilted and . SOLID SILYKR. : > .: ) SPONGE, JR. I don't tlii nk, myself, I'd let her handle me with that sort of hardware. Thank you for ] Hitting it so mildly ; lut MRS. BUSBY. You know you are not fit for her, if yon know any- thing. SPONGE, JR. I'm old enough. MRS. BUSBY. Old in sin, I'll warrant. SPONGE, JR. That's true, Buzzy, God knows. I've wished a thou- sand times, since I saw her, that I could wash the stains of London life out of my soul, and be as pure as she is. MRS. BUSBY. It can't he done. [Sighing.'] SPONGE, JR. It can't ! My heart's all right, my head is level, and I've lots of resolution. You'll see. I'm bound to win. I'm getting courage every hour. Oh ! here she comes. I don't know how it is ; when I think of her, I'm as bold as a lion, and when I see her, I feel as weak as water ! Enter KATE, with small basket, L. 1 E. She crosses to Mrs. B. ; then looks over her shoulder at SPONGE, Jr. who stands bowing timidly.'] Good morning. KATE (bows slightly.) Good morning. SPONGE, JR. Xice morning. KATE. Yes. SPONGE, JR. Are you pretty well ? You look very pretty well. Yes, it's a nice morning. E 34 SOLID SILVER, ACT n SCENE 3. KATE (furns away.) Oh ! Mrs. Busby, I am so glad to find you. You're dreadfully wanted in the pavilion and I've to go for some flowers ! SPONGE, JR. (bashfully.) I'll save you the trouble, and go for them, if you'll allow me. KATE, (indifferently.) TJianks. \_Gic-es him the basket. ~] And now, Mrs. Busby, let's go. [KATE crosses to R. n. SPONGE follows ; offers his arm ; she looks at him disdainfully, and exits R. 1 E. He turns and looks at Mrs. B.] MRS. BUSBY, (crosses to R. 1 E.) I told you you'd get your answer. [Exit R. 1 E. SPONGE, JR. I've got it! "Thanks" is brief, but it's expressive! Blessed basket ! If roses were rubies and lilies were pearls, I'd fill you till you overflowed ! [Kisses the han- dle. Exit R. 1 E.] SCENE III. PAUL'S home; neat room, boxed; door c. ; windows R. L. r. ; fireplace R. 2 E. ; door R. 3 E. ; door or window L. H. Large square of plain carpet laid c. Small round table, c. spread for two. Arm-chair left of table ; book-case up R. H., with books seen through glass door. Neat tables at windows, R. and L. F., with plants on them. Lounge L. H. Plain clock and ornaments on mantel; engravings on wall; chintz curtains to windows ; fire burning ; mat before fire- place ; fender, etc. Small vases on mantel, with -flowers. Boiling water in tea-kettle. Mat before door. Mrs. WEIR discovered busying herself about arrange- ments of table. ACT ii SCENE 3. SOLID SILVER. 35 Enter PAUL, c. Mrs. WEIR nn r/.v A//// ; //icy advance c. PAUL. Well, mother dear, how lias the day gone with you? Pleasantly, I hope. It's been Jovely out of doors, and such days make us all happier, and, I think, better, mother. MRS. WEIR. Where have you been, Paul ? You're later than usual. PAUL. I've had quite a walk across the park, and amused myself by starting a pheasant or two, as I came along ; and now I'm quite ready for a cup of tea with you. [Mrs. WEIR takes tea-kettle from hob ; pours water in tea-pot to i a a he tea.~] MRS. WEIR. I am delighted to hear you say you feel like enjoying something, Paul, for I've been dreadfully worried, about you lately. PAUL. I am sorry for that, mother. What has disturbed you ? MRS. WEIR. Oh ! you've looked so pale and wearied on your return from your duties, and you've slept so little, and been so restless even in your sleep, that I have been fearful that things didn't go right at the Towers. PAUL. Don't worry for me, mother. Everything is right at the Towers, so far as I know. I feel my responsibilities too much, perhaps, for Miss Huntingdon leaves everything to my judgment ; and sometimes I feel ashamed to "decide for her as I have to do. I fear some day she will think me assuming, and I would rather die than have her think that of my father's son. MRS. WEIR. Never fear that, Paul ; you are too sensitive by half. But the tea is ready, so sit down, [they sit,~\ and I'll bring it to you. [Gives Mm his tea, etc.~\ Any news at the 36 SOLID SILVER. ACT n SCENE 3. Towers, dear ? Are those men from London there still ? And Captain Morris, is he there '! PAUL. Yes, mother, they are there. The elder Sponge is the most provokingly inquisitive and meddlesome of men. I am as cautious as I know how to be ; but I really believe that old sinner has possessed himself of every material iact and circumstance connected with Miss Huntingdon's affairs. I never go out of the library, but I find him prying round my desk when I come back. MRS. WEIR. Is the son anything like the father ? PAUL. The son is a purse-proud little prig, yet there is something human in him. But mother, Captain Morris fills me with horror. I curse the reversion every time I see him. You should see how insolent he is, ordering about the servants and everybody; why, he even went to the stables yesterday, and commanded the stud groom to change Titan's box and food, and hinted broadly that his word was to be law in house and stable hereafter, and those who would not obey him had better go about their business. Think of that, mother ! MRS. WEIR. What does Miss Huntingdon say to all this ? PAUL. In the house she is silent. But the stud groom told me she looked in at the stables this afternoon, and when she saw Titan out of his box, she asked him who ordered that V He replied "the captain." "Put Titan back, if you please," said she, "and take your orders from Mr. Weir or myself." That's the only self assertion I've known her to be guilty of, since he came. MRS. WEIR. Do you think she likes him ? PAUL. God forbid I should try to judge her heart. He is con- ACT IISCEXE 3. SOLID SILVER. 37 stunt lv with her, han^s over her at her embroidery, and follows her in her walks and visits. Once lie tried riding with her, hut Jim says she leaped the park palings and ran away from him ; but I don't know MRS. WEIR. But all this does not concern you, Paul, dear. Why should it disturb you ''. PAUL. I know I have no right, mother, to desire anything but her happiness and honorable marriage, yet the fear that this man, who, by all repute, is a bankrupt scoun- drel, should become her husband, makes me wretched. I have been thinking to-day that her marriage to him was nearer than I supposed. She took her father's will the other day, and read and re-read it ; then asked me for a statement of her accumulated funds, and told me to send for Mr. Oldcastle, her solicitor, some day next week. What do you suppose that means, mother? MRS. WEIR. I don't know what that means, but I don't think she acted like a woman about to marry when she was here to- day. She PAUL. Was she here to-day, mother ? God bless her for think- ing of us I mean you, mother. Where did she sit '( What did she say ? Tell me all about it from beginning to end. When she MRS. WEIR. Who ever heard a boy rattle on so ? I can't answer half your questions, my child. She was here this after- noon, and stayed an hour. And so affectionate and gentle ! I could have fancied her my own lost baby daughter grown to womanhood. l)o you know, Paul, she looked mostly at your books and your music, and I PAUL. Did she, mother ? did she ? MRS. WEIR. And now I remember, she said herself you did not look 38 SOLID SILVER. ACT n SCENE 3. well, and asked me if I thought you overworked, and said, " Be careful of Paul, Mrs. Weir, for neither of us can spare him now." I looked at her, and she was smiling quietly to herself, with just the loveliest color in her cheeks and such a far-off look in her eyes, I wondered what she could be thinking of ; and she sat so a longtime, and then rose and kissed me, Paul, and went away with- out another word. [During this speech PAUL has covered his face with his hands, and at last bows it upon his arms, so as to hide it completely^ But what's the matter, dear V Hold your head up and look at me ! What tears ? [Mrs. WEIR crosses front to L. of PAUL, puts her arms around him, and kisses him on the forehead.'] My darling boy, what is the matter ? PAUL. I feel as if I should die, mother as if I wished to die. MRS. WEIR. You have done nothing wrong, Paul, I am certain yet what but dishonor could rob life of its sweetness to one like you ? PAUL. My honor is unstained, mother ; but life is a burthen to me. MRS. WEIR. Why should it be ? Trust your mother, my dear boy ! She at least will love you, sympathise with you and cling to you with the same tenderness with which she first saw your baby face at peace upon her bosom. Tell me all, Paul ! [Presses his head to her breast, and kisses him.'] PAUL. Mother, I have nothing to tell but what your woman's heart must know already. MRS. WEIR. You have not been mad enough to love her, Paul ? PAUL, (springing to his feet.) If that be madness, I have been mad for years ever since I first went to the Towers as manager of the ACT IISCENE 3. SOLID SILVER. 39 estates, when she used to come to me as a child to help her in her tasks. Daily observing her infinite loveliness, how could I help it ? I knew all the time how it would end in sorrow and despair. [L. H.] MRS. WEIR. Paul ! Paul ! How could you do it ? PAUL. Do not reproach me. I knew no good could come to me from it this side the grave, as well as you do, mother ; but, for all that, I could not help it, and now I have my punishment the pain of daily death, without its peace. MRS. WEIR. Do you think she suspects your unhappy passion ? PAUL. She cannot ; difficult as restraint has been, I have never betrayed myself. MRS. WEIR. Oh ! Paul, you know not how keen a woman's eyes are to see through the disguises of the heart. The signs of love, like those of its absence, are discerned by her in the very air that others breathe unconsciously, as the skilled woodsman foretells the storm, or presages peace, from the sighing of the winds and the voiceless speech of Mature. I hope she does not know it, and will jiot ; for the discov- ery would exile us from this beloved spot, where we have lived so many happy years, and where your dear father lies awaiting me. Tell me [Mrs. WEIR falls into chair L. of table, and weeps. PauseJ] tell me you will over- come this most unhappy delusion. Do not permit your life to be withered, and your mother's peace to be destroyed in your destruction. You have so much besides her to live for. I am so proud of you, Paul ; so hopeful of you ! I am certain you will yet find some woman as worthy and beautiful as she, to love you and grace your home, fill it with happy little voices, and hold you to her by all the ties of a noble wedlock. 40 SOLID SILVER. ACT n SCENE 3. PAUL. Silence ! Oh, silence, mother ! My heart will break. [Music, plaintive. PAUL goes to his mother, falls on his knees and buries his head in her lap ; she bends over him. caressingly J] IN.: ACT TH I ED. SCENE I. Dancing pavilion. Curtain rises to Lancers' music. Discover company commencing the dance. Floor covered for dancing. Three arches boxed on the sides with arches. Garlands, lanterns, birds, festooned all over scene, and from borders. Statuary and pedestals* Balcony at back, with steps. Small tete-a-tete sofa L. H. Calcium on balcony. In front set are KATE SPONGE, Jr., Earl DE LA LANDE Lady EMILY, Countess BARCLAY, MORRIS BERTHA. Other sets ad libitum. They dance last figure of Lancers, and finish with waltz. As soon as waltz is over, commence horn solo outside. All form in picturesque groups, listening. When EMILY commences to speak, they com- mence to promenade. LADY EMILY, (after a long pause.} What delicious music ! hear it ? BARCLAY. Eh ? Beg pardon ! EMILY. The music don't you hear it ? BARCLAY. Oh ! that's the band from London, playing by the lake. EARL. Miss Bertha, if you do not object, we will adjourn to the moonlight and the music. Will you come ? KATE. Of course she will. Her cavalier looks romantic F 42 SOLID SILVER, ACT in SCENE 1. enough for any amount of moonshine. Quite the bandit, I declare ! BERTHA. Certainly. Come, Captain, your arm. MORRIS, (aside.} I shall have no better opportunity than the present, and there's no time to lose. I'll play my last card ! Wait a moment, cousin. [SPONGE, Jr., offers his arm to KATE, who stands R. H. Earl quietly interposes and takes her off. KATE laughs. SPONGE appears crestfallen, and goes off dejectedly. Ladies and gentlemen promenade at back at intervals. Business to be arranged so that the balcony in back of the stage will be filled without interfering with the front of the scene. All must be kept very qmet.~\ MORRIS, L. This is a lovely scene, and should inspire the happiest emotions. Yet I am wretched and you are the cause. BERTHA, C. I, Gerard ? I have done all in my power to make you at home, since you arrived. You have been quite master of the house. Indeed, when you take your departure, I shall feel almost an intruder when I venture to command my own servants. MORRIS. My presumption has not been without an object. You know the wishes of your father, as expressed in his will, and BERTHA. You need not rehearse them, sir. That he desired I should marry you for your mother's sake, whom he fondly loved, is true. But that wish was coupled with another : that I should be myself the sole judge of your capacity to make me happy ; that I should exercise prudence in my choice, if I were called on to make it ; and I shall faithfully try to do so. ACT in SCENE 1. SOLID SILVER. 43 MORRIS. And do you mean to say that very prudent judgment of yours is against me ? BERTHA. I do not say so now. Do not press me for a decision. This is no time for it. Speak of something else, or I shall he forced to leave you. MORRIS. It was your father's chief pleasure to give your hand to me, and call us son and daughter. And though his over- weening sense of obligation to you made you his sole heir, and gave me only a pitiful annuity, he yet expected nay, commanded that I should share his wealth with you. Dare you deny it '! BERTHA, (tenderly.) Think you, Gerard, I have forgotten one word my darling father ever spoke to me ? I do remember all. I call to mind, besides, what you were then a noble boy, brave, generous, clear-eyed, truthful ! Even now I thrill to recollect the childish dreams I had of distant happy years, bound close to yours, I knew not how. After my father died you grew to manhood. You went into the world, and I remained, an orphan girl, at home. I am a woman grown, but still in much a child. I know but little of your life, save, save rumors which have come to me of reckless dissipation, a gamester's ruin and grosser sins which so affright me that I dare not speak, and will not think, of them. MORRIS. And you believe them true, of course, and so condemn me ! BERTHA. Dare I believe them false when I can read the bitter confirmation in your haggard face and weary eyes ? Can I believe in you and lay my trusting hands in yours, or hope to call you husband, when even my untutored sight commands me to beware ? I will beware ! I do not judge you now : and do not force me to decide, by impor- tuning me. 44 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 1. MORRIS, (seizing her hand.) You cannot go till you have answered me. You shall trifle with me no longer. BERTHA, (with dignity). [Taking away her hand.'] Your violence does not sur- prise me, sir. You havenad free scope here since I have had control of my property. For two years you have in- variably insulted my friends, have been unnecessarily harsh to your inferiors and assumed to rule all my house- hold. With the fullest liberty to invite your friends to the Towers, you have only introduced men such as those who are now here as your guests, and of whose claims on you I am too well informed. Are they your friends or your masters ? [MORRIS angrily seizes her wrist. Young SPONGE enters at back, observing what is going on in front of stage.'] Ah, you hurt me ! Let go my arm, sir, or I will call for help ! Do you not see you are attracting attention ? [Crosses L. H.] MORRIS. Who cares for attention ? is"ot I. I tell you now [Stops and glares at SPONGE, Jr., who has been for some moments looking in the door, and now enters and goes round as if he had lost something. BERTHA retires up a little L. H., looks off the archway down R. H.] SPONGE, JR, Where's my 'at ? I can't find the blasted thing any- where, and the governor wants me to look round after the captain and see that he don't give us the slip. And I have got a cold in my 'ed now. Atchee ! Atchee ! Where's my 'at ? Ah ! I say, Captain, I've a message for you and something to say to you on my own account besides. MORRIS. Let it wait, then. SPONGE, JR., (taking him to one side.) It won't wait, then. Colonel Delaire is here, and the governor is just going to ask him what provision he pro- poses to make for those overdue acceptances of his which we hold from you. ACT m SCENE 1. SOLID SILYEE. 45 MORRIS. Hush ! Perdition ! Where is your father ? SPONGE, JR. In the balcony with the rest of the aristocracy. He is game to-night. Go and call him " Sir John," and I'm blessed if I don't think he'd give you up your notes and execute a release of all demands ! He's talking to one of the dowagers now about "moonlight effects." Ha! Ha! He says they're "gorgeous!" Lucky the moon don't owe him anything. He'd sell her effects on execution and leave lovers in the dark forever. MORRIS. Bertha, I leave you for a moment, but shall return, and you must answer me ! [BERTHA, who has seated (L. c.) herself while the conversation is going on, merely looks at MORRIS with silent disdain. Exit MORRIS at balcony R. c. in the greatest haste.~\ SPONGE JR., (c., running to BERTHA.) Hope I've caused no inconvenience. BERTHA, (L. H.) Not the slightest, Mr. Sponge, believe me. SPONGE, JR. I thought as much. How do you like me as an author ? BERTHA. You an author ? SPONGE, JR. Yes, I composed that little romance which set the cap- tain on his travels. BERTHA, (rising.] Why, Mr. Sponge, did you tell him a story ? SPONGE, JR. Yes, and it answered as well as the truth, did n't it ? Most lies do, for that matter, you know. They help bus- iness wonderfully, and, as for society, it couldn't exist without them. 46 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 1. BERTHA. Mr. Sponge, you shock me ! SPONGE, JR. I can't help it. It's the fault of my education. I've heard my governor say a thousand times that lies were like iron, without them we'd all go back to the simplicity of barbarism. BERTHA. You have been educated in a strange school of morals, Mr. Sponge. SPONGE, JR. I never was at a school of morals. I was brought up to business. My governor taught me to calculate interest when I was six years old, and I've been at it ever since. \_Going and returning.'] For all that I'm human ; and upon what word and honor I've got, I can't abide to see Morris even trying to win a woman like you. My governor's loans depend on your death or marriage with the captain ; but I'd rather lose the last penny than have them paid by either event. Don't mind us, and don't you marry the captain ! [ Going and returning. ~\ If he bothers you any more, just sweetly ask him where he learned to write, and if he don't run at that, enquire how he spells your uncle Delaire's name. [J^'c/e.] There now ! Up goes my half of fifteen thousand, but I've freed my mind. BERTHA. I know not how to understand your remarkable confi- dence, but I thank you for it. SPONGE, JR. It 's expensive, but you're welcome ! BERTHA. I shall not need your talisman to guard me against an- noyance. I can protect myself; and while I expect to live as long as God pleases, I hope during the life he vouchsafes me to marry when, where and whom I please. SPONGE, JR. That's well said, Now, if you really are obliged to me, ACT in SCENE 1. SOLID SILVER. 47 you will do me a favor. I suppose I'm too late, but I'd be ivo happy if you'd dance with me once. BERTHA. Certainly, Mr. Sponge. There are my tablets ; take anything that's left. [Hands him her card of dances, with attached b$ a hatnl-^mn' ribbon.'] SPONGE, JR. Let's see. \Eeads.~] "Lancers, Captain Morris." " ( Juadrille, Mr. Barclay." " Schottische, Captain Morris." " Polka Redowa, Captain Morris." Hum ! There's nothing mean about him, is there ? " Quadrille, Earl Lande." " Lancers, Captain Morris ! !" Let me take this card among the gentlemen, and we will organize an American Lynching party and rid the ball of him if you'll divide the dances fairly between us. He's a perfect glutton, here as everywhere, by Jove ! BERTHA. Never mind him, Mr. Sponge. Take any one you fancy. SPONGE, JR. I'll take this Lancers from him, and if he don't like it, I'll dance a polka with him, myself, and make it lively for him, too ! BERTHA. Give me my tablets. [Takes and puts them in her belt.~\ And now - [SPONGE thinks BERTHA wants him to promenade with her. He is about to offer his arm, when enter PAUL WEIR, who, seeing Miss HUNTINGDON, attempts toretire.~] Oh ! Mr. Weir, come here ; give me your arm to the balcony. Mr. Sponge, it may comfort you to know that your investment was never less secure than at present. [SPONGE goes up stage, stops, walks back, says "Ah !" Meets a little girl, offers his arm to her and takes her off.~\ PAUL, (offering his arm to BERTHA.) I comply with your wish, but pray do not require me to - 48 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 1. [ Voice in the balcony, sings.'] [BERTHA and PAUL form picture during song. BERTHA picks her bouquet to pieces. PAUL takes a bud and fastens it to his coat."] Sweet ! good night. I now must leave thee, But I know not how to part : Every tender thought, believe me, Is of thee with all my heart ! [Captain MORRIS enters on balcony, stands in strong moon- light, and watches BERTHA and PAUL.] May thy slumbers be refreshing And thy dreams be ever bright. Hence, and with thee take my blessing, This fond kiss, and then good night ! Yet, Oh ! yet, a moment longer ! I have something more to say : Love at parting seems the stronger, But I would not bid thee stay. Sweet ! I know not why I press thee Longer with me to remain, Else it be once more to bless thee, And to say " Good night," again. \_At end of song, MORRIS advances c., and with left arm' rudely pushes PAUL back L. H. PAUL seizes him by the collar with his R. hand, and throws MORRIS to L., and is about to strike him with his L. hand when BERTHA seizes it. Picture.'] BERTHA. For my sake, Paul ; Mr. Weir, forbear. [PAUL bows low, retires and exit R. 3 E. Captain MORRIS follows PAUL, crosses and looks after him, and then moves to R. c.] MORRIS. Have you no better occupation than flirting'with a low- bred fellow like that a servant, or little better ? It is disgraceful ! BERTHA, (L. c.) Captain Morris, how dare you address such language to me ? Mr. Weir is a gentleman and worthy to be the escort of any lady in the land. I have endured too much already. To-morrow, sir, you will leave my house. [ Takes stage L. H.] ACT in SCENE 1. SOLID SILVER. 49 MORRIS. I have hit the target at last, have I ? Yes I will go ; and leave you to the delicate attentions of this pensioner on jour bounty, and him to your smiles and, I know not what besides. BERTHA, (going dose to him.) If I were armed, I think I would kill you. As it is, I am without a weapon and only a woman, so I bid you, go ! [Pointing to the door, out of -which MORRIS goes without a triti'd. BERTHA throws herself into a chair, L. H., and weepsJ] Enter KATE, R. c., meets MORRIS going, stops him, looks at him with disguised contempt, and then comes down stage to BERTHA. KATE. Why, Bertha, darling, what's the matter ? BERTHA. I am ashamed of myself for crying, Kate ; but really I cannot help it. Gerard has insulted me so cruelly. [ Cries.'] Once that wicked little Sponge got him away by the queerest story about your father and some dishonored notes, and afterwards told me the whole tale was a fiction of his own to relieve me ! KATE. But how did he impose on the Captain ? There must have been some truth to carry him off his balance. I'll ask papa if ever he endorsed or accepted for Gerard. I don't think he did, for he detests him, and won't come here while Gerard remains your guest. BERTHA. That won't be long, for he goes to-morrow. I told him KATE. Oh, you darling, did you ? [Kisses her rapturously.'] I don't think Mr. Weir will regret him. BERTHA. I told him to go because he spoke of Mr. Weir and myself so outrageously. Kate, I could have killed him ; G 50 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 1. and I am sure Mr. Weir would have knocked him down, but for my entreaty to forbear. KATE. I wish you hadn't said a word ; but women never can hold their tongues, con bless them 1 BERTHA. I am so sorry for Mr. Weir. I wish I could see him and tell Lim so. KATE. I just saw him pass the door. I'll call him. [Runs to door and calls.'] Mr. Weir! Here he comes. I don't care to hear your explanation ; but don't ask him for heliotrope, dear that's my prerogative. [Exit KATE, and enter PAUL, R. arch in boxing. PAUL. I did not know you were here, Miss Huntingdon, or I should not have intruded. I thought Miss Delaire called me. BERTHA. I do not wonder you are reluctant to enter my presence. Of late, it has only been the prelude to insult. But pray be seated. PAUL. Thank you ; I prefer to stand. BERTHA. I wished to tell you, Mr. Weir, that no one regrets the many annoyances to which your position has subjected you as much as I PAUL. Do not distress yourself by thinking of them ; they will soon end, I trust forever. BERTHA. What do you mean ? You surely are not intending PAUL. I have determined to seek employment elsewhere. ACT in SCENE 1. SOLID SILVER. 51 BERTHA. Will you really leave us I mean your mother, Mr. Weir V She cannot live without you ; and if she could, you ought not to make her desolate. PAUL. I shall take her with me wherever I go. BERTHA. Is that right ? She has lived in her present home for many years ; your dear father died there. 2s"o one knows better than you, who have so often stood with her beside his grave, the consolations of her widowhood. She will not long survive the change. Old scenes, old habits and affections are the life of Age, and, robbed of them, it soon must droop and die. Have you thought of this ? PAUL, (C.) I have thought of all this ? BERTHA. Is my father's memory nothing to you ? I remember as a child how fond he was of you. You came to the Towers because he wished it. You have been the guar- dian of his estate. What will it do without you ? Can you abandon your charge to others, and leave your half- completed plans to ruin, because these ill-bred people have been rude to you ? PAUL. I cannot remain without the loss of self-respect ; and, losing that, I should be valueless. There are many men to be had who can do more than I have done, but with no stronger devotion to your interests, believe me. I will help you to select my successor ; but I must go as far from here as steam or sail can carry me. BERTHA. Where will you go ? PAUL. To the ^N"ew World, where manhood is the test of sta- tion, and honest deeds outweigh the pride of long descent. 52 SOLID SILVER, ACT in SCENE 1. BERTHA. Have I deserved this of you, Mr. Weir ? What have I done, that you should treat me so ? [ Weeps. ~] PAUL. You have done much ; but naught for which I censure you. You are no more to blame than the flower for its fragrance and beauty. God made you both, and I alone am responsible for my own misery. You have been all goodness and gentleness. From your earliest childhood, your smile has been my heaven, and I have learned, unwillingly, to love you with all the strength of a man's honest devotion, and with a passion that con- sumes me. You need not tell me how hopeless it is. I know you could not think of me except with the same charity that takes into its fold all those around you, nor would I ask you to do otherwise. I only tell you of my love so you may know, when I am gone, that I have not been ungrateful, nor a deserter from any obligations I owed you. Good bye ! God bless you ! [PAUL goes from the room R. H.; as he disappears she starts up, extends her arms towards the door.~\ BERTHA. Paul, Paul ! My heart will break ! [Falls weeping into her chair. ~\ Enter KATE, BARCLAY and Lady EMILY ; BARCLAY and Lady EMILY remain up stage. KATE, (coming forward alone.] Here's a nice child for a birth-day party. Tears to be- gin the year with, indeed, and all for a nasty man ! I'd like to see the one that could make me cry. Bertha, dear, come ! Every one is asking for you, and the Earl has proposed such a strange thing to please the children, and they are all coming here to do it. Quick, dear, dry your eyes ! That horrid Gerard has taken himself out of the way, and don't let anybody think you're crying for him. BERTHA. You're right, Kate, I'll cry no more. \_Crosses right and ACT in SCENE 1. SOLID SILVER. 53 goes to meet Lady EMILY and BARCLAY.] What, have you so soon tired of dancing ? I thought with such music you would keep your feet flying till midnight. BARCLAY. The night is rather warm for dancing, you know, and most of the people seem to prefer going to the lake to hear the music and see the moonlight on the water. So the children have persuaded the Earl to propose some old fashioned game or other, and he has promised to do so. [All enter ; SPONGE, Jr. with two small children hang- ing on his arms.~\ But here they all come, and he will explain, himself. EARL. Come, Miss Bertha, Kate, all of you, we have a change in the programme. The children who don't dance have persuaded the children who do to play just one game of hide-and-seek, and I am elected Ringleader, for in truth, I'd like a run through these old corridors. I have not seen them since your father and I were boys. We have recruited all this gallant army, and every one is eager for the fray. Are you not ? ALL. Yes ! Oh yes ! Begin, begin. LADY EMILY. Before you convert Bertha's soiree dansante into a child's party you had better ask her permission. COUNTESS. Bertha, what do you say ? BERTHA. I shall enjoy it extremely. In fact, I'm the most child- ish of the party. I cry like one, anyhow. KATE. Except myself, dear. But we're losing time. Hurry, or the romantic ones will return from the lake, and we shall be forced to dance again. 54 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 2. EARL. Come, then, begin. I give you big children one minute to hide little ones may have two. [Music, P. P. Little binds handkerchief over Earl's eyes.~\ CHILD. How many horses in your father's stable ? EARL. Three white, black and gray. CHILD. Turn round three times and catch whom you may. [They all scamper, talking in a, noisy lively manner. Music till on in next scene. SPONGE, Jr. follows KATE off R. 1 E.] SCENE II. Corridor in Huntingdon Towers same as in Act II, Scene II. KATE enters R. 1 E., goes hastily to L. 1 E. to hide. SPONGE, Jr. is immediately behind her. She turns away annoyed, goes to R. H., same business. SPONGE, JR. I don't think that's a good place to hide, myself. KATE. Don't plague me so. I've heard nonsense enough. Go hide yourself and let me alone. [ Crosses L. H.] SPONGE, JR. It is not nonsense, and I don't want to hide myself or anything else from you ! Miss Kate, if you refuse to hear me, I'll do something desperate. KATE. What a nuisance you are ! Speak, but do condense yourself. SPONGE, JR. "Well, consider me condensed. Miss Kate, I came down here with no thought but money, I'm afraid. You have ACT in SCENE 2. SOLID SILVER. 55 created around me an atmosphere full of happiness and beauty in which I must live, if at all. I have wakened from a horrid dream of selfishness to learn, through you, that life is more than an opportunity to grasp wealth and increase it. I beg you to teach me a better life. KATE. His teacher ! SPONGE, JR. Be my my wife, then. That's what I mean, anyhow. Miss Kate, I would die to please you. KATE. You had better live to please yourself. I should expire at the thought of undertaking your reformation. I am no missionary for young heathen, and if I were, your case would be hopeless. And then, I have no heart to give a lover. And then and then Oh ! there are a thousand reasons more don't bother me ! SPONGE, JR. There's a somebody else hid in them, I suppose ? KATE. i$"o, sir ! I never yet saw a man fit to be loved ; and I can't waste time trying to discover him. It is impossible for me to love anybody. [cjoingJ] Good bye ! SPONGE, JR. Miss Kate ! KATE. Well? SPONGE, JR. If you never tried, how do you know ? I used to think so myself, but Lord ! how easy it is when you give your mind to it. Just make the effort. KATE. I can't and I won't. There 's your answer and good bye. [going.] SPONGE, JR. Miss Kate ! KATE. Well? 56 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 2. SPONGE, JR. Don't be precipitate. I'll give you thirty days to con- sider renewable at sixty more and then accept me at as many days' 'sight as you like. KATE. I don't want thirty seconds, nor any more sights at you than I have had already. When I fall in love, it will be at first sight. No ; -I am resolved. [ Very decidedly. ,] SPONGE, JR. So am I. KATE. On what, pray ? SPONGE, JR. On marrying you ; make up your mind to that. KATE, (ironically.} I pray you for a moderate respite, my lord, between your judgment and its execution. SPONGE, JR. Respite, certainly ; reprieve, never ! KATE. How considerate ! I feared you were about to put on the black cap and pronounce sentence at once. I like your way of wooing ; I do, indeed. Well ! I told you you'd like it better the more you tried it. It grows, Miss Kate, like well, like compound interest. KATE. If this be love-making, Heaven send me no more of it. I have talked till I'm weary, so good-bye now, for good. I'm losing all the fun, and if you don't care yourself, don't deprive me of it. Good-bye, I say, sir. \_Going.~] SPONGE, JR. Good-bye, then. You needn't fear. I'll not announce our engagement till you are willing. ACT in SCENE 2. SOLID SILVER. 57 KATE, (returning.) Our what, sir ? Who's engaged to you ? Are you deaf and blind too ? You heard me say I couldn't and I wouldn't. SPONGE, JR. That was some time since. You've had lots of time to change your mind ; and, being a woman, you've done it, of course. KATE. Yes, change my mind as you would change a sovereign, Mr. Moneybags. SPONGE, JR. Change it for ha'pence, and give me one. I'll lay it out at love's usurious interest, and win the whole of it before I've done with you. KATE. It will only be a change from bad to worse, like this bright evening turning into storm. [A peal of thunder.'] SPONGE, JR. Oh, thunder ! KATE. You'll make me strike you. \_AJiash of lightning. ~\ SPONGE, JR. Well, hit, but hear me ! I'd rather you'd strike me than the lightning. KATE. I hate you, sir. SPONGE, JR. You think you do, but you don't. KATE. I'll tell my father. SPONGE, JR. Certainly! it's but right the old gentleman should know. I'll speak to him myself, as soon as I see him, and ask his consent. KATE. You speak to him if you dare ! H 58 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 3. SPONGE, JR. That settles it. I never took a dare in my life. Your fate is sealed. KATE. Mr. Sponge, please don't tease me so. I don't really hate you, but I can't love you ; and besides SPONGE, JR. I'll say no more. Give me your hand. [ Takes it. KATE offers no resistance.'] If I can not be your lover, I'll be your faithful friend. The world is full of changes, Miss Kate, and when they come to you, be the time ever so remote, you will find me still your servant, contented as a dog to obey and protect you. KATE. And no more love ? SPONGE, JR. ~No more till you awaken it. KATE. Come, then, my canine friend ! I'll call you Fido, and make you a velvet collar, [going.'] Come along for your velvet collar ! SPONGE, JR. (follows.} I swear it shall be of your velvet arms ! [Exeunt. SCENE III. Stage dark. Room in Huntingdon Towers, finished with panelled walls, ivainscoting, etc. Old pictures of knights and men-at-arms, etc., on walls. High mantelpiece R. center, with deep fire-place, appa- rently built of brick-work. All to show an ancient, disused apartment. Large window, c., showing mov- ing clouds, with lightning effects. Wind shutters rattling. Flashes of lightning, and low, rumbling thunder, with an occasional crash. Stands of armor ACT in SCENE 3. SOLID SILVER. 59 about stage. Shields and arms grouped. Music of " Mistletoe Bough " played on tremolo pipes till BER- THA hides. Doors at right and left. Enter BERTHA ; sits down, out of breath. BERTHA. What a race I've had ; and not caught yet ! There are so many horrid stories of this part of the house, that I have been afraid to come into it. But dear old Busby has lit it up so brightly, I thought I'd venture in among you, my lords. [_L')o/r /"/>// a.t portraits.'] I'd like some of you to show me those old trap-doors papa told me you built in the olden time. I don't ask you to tell me the naughty pur- poses you used them for ; oh, no ! you shall keep the dreadful secrets to yourselves, my dear ancestors ! [Cart- sry.v.] Hark ! They have actually tracked me here ; where shall I go ? [Runs to door, L. H. 2 E., unlocks it, looks out, and returns. ,] Ugh ! that place is as dark as a pocket, and I hate the dark. Sunshine for me, rather than shadow, any day. I haven't had much of it on this one, have I ? How fierce and wild the night has grown ! But it shall pass away before the daylight comes sweet, golden hours, that bring me happiness and rest, and him the knowledge of my hoarded love. My poor Paul ! how little you know a woman's heart ! To-morrow I will show you one. Here they come ! [Noise ivithout.~\ I'll squeeze myself into the recesses of this huge chimney, and perhaps avoid discovery ; and when they're gone, I'll leave this shivering atmosphere. [Gets close into the corner of the chimney ; the back suddenly turns and shuts her in, and she disappears with a scream (pause). More noise, and enter all the party of players, in high glee, and pursuing BERTHA. All search around in different places, laughing and talking. EARL. We have hunted down our fox, at last. LADY EMILY. Where is she ? 60 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 3. . KATE. I certainly saw her come into this room. SPONGE, JR., (drily.) You must be mistaken. KATE, (angrily.) I am not ; I saw her, sir. SPONGE, JR. Mistaken, I say ; if you saw her, where is she ? KATE. Where your manners are gone ! I tell you I not only saw her, but heard her scream. COUNTESS. There is no place where she could hide. Look, all of you ! [All look round. ~] BARCLAY. Here's another door ; she must have escaped by this way. [Opens the door, L, 2 E. All gather behind him, and stretch their necks to look over his shoulder.'] It's very dark. Get me a candle, some of you. KATE. \_Going to door, L. 2 E., speaks off.~] Oh, Bertha! Ber- tha ! Please answer us. Please come out to us. [Pause.] LADY EMILY, (going to door.) Oh, dear ! What is the good of tormenting people this way ? Bertha, dear, we're all done playing ! Come out and let us get away from this horrid room. EARL. Kate, ask Mrs. Busby for a candle. SPONGE, JR., (crosses to L. door.) Excuse me, but what do you want a candle for ? EARL. To ascertain what lies beyond here. ACT in SCENE 3. SOLID SILVER. 61 SPONGE, JR. You can see enough without waiting for lights. I don't like to lead your Lordship, but I am not afraid of the dark. While you're waiting the candle, I'll go on. SPONGE, Jr., goes in the door and disappears.] KATE. I am so frightened ; I know not why, COUNTESS. This is what was to be expected from such low-bred, vulgar games. LADY EMILY. I think the low breeding consists in carrying a joke to the stupid length of being disagreeable. KATE. Emily ! You know Bertha would not do so ; that is why I fear for her. \Enter Mrs. BUSBY, with a candle in each hand, R. H.] Oh ! Mrs. Busby, do you know any place here where she could hide if she would ? MRS. BUSBY, (crosses c.) What's the matter? Who's she and what do you mean, Miss Kate, by " hiding ?" [SPONGE, Jr. enters pre- cipitately. All turn, alarmed, and huddle together.! Good Lord ! * What's that ? SPONGE, JR. Don't be frightened. I've only been examining the balance of this lovely spot. MRS. BUSBY, (aside.) You plucky little rascal ! What have you been doing down that corridor ? SPONGE, JR. 'Twas so dark, I don't know myself. I've an impression that I bumped my head. [ To KATE.] Feel it ! [Holds his head down to KATE, who ooxes his ears] EARL, Could you see anything ? 62 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 3. SPONGE, JR. There are two rooms opening out on one side, and each was silent and desolate. I could see distinctly when the lightning flashed in the windows. It lit the very cobwebs on the walls. Ko one could have walked over those floors for many years. The corridor extends to what I judge is an outer wall, meeting the angle of that ex- tending opposite the rooms I speak of. I went to the length of it, and I saw (pause a moment) ALL. Well ! Well ! ( Very eagerly.) What did you see ? SPONGE, JR. There was nobody there. ALL. Pshaw ! EARL. Might there not be some passage which you did not discern, to the open air ? [Mrs. BUSBY goes up stage, looking around.~\ SPONGE, JR. None, I am satisfied. I do not think she ever went in there ; certainly not to the end of the passage. ~No woman would dare it. KATE. Why not, pray ? SPONGE, JR., (shivering.) It's the pokiest place I ever was in. I don't mind telling you I did not like it ! But for Miss Huntingdon, I respect her so much that if it was for her help I'd go to the KATE, (R. H.) Hush, Mr. Sponge. [Putting her hand over his mouth, which he kisses loudly.'] SPONGE, JR., (C.) I would, I tell you, or for you either. ACT in SCENE 3. SOLID SILVER. 63 MRS. BUSBY, (coming down L. c.) I have been hoping some of you would explain to me what all this means. KAIE, (R H.) We were playing hide-and-seek, and Bertha ran in here ; we followed, and can't find her. [Crying. ~] MRS. BUSBY, (greatly agitated.) I'm sure she's playing some trick on us. It's only a little fun, I'm sure. [Goes up to door L. H. ; speaks off.~\ Miss Bertha ! Oh, Miss Bertha ! my dear young mistress ! Please don't do so in this horrid place. Oh! Oh! \_Crying.~] SPONGE, JR. What are you crying for ? If you love her, do some- thing. Tell me what to do. Give me leave and I'll tear the old place to pieces. I will, by Jove ! MRS. BUSBY. I know it's only a cruel joke, but there are such awful tales of this part of this house and of these iron-clad wretches ! [Pointing to the pictures. All appear nervous.'] COUNTESS. Pshaw ! I don't believe a word of it. My lord, let us go ! I've stayed too long already. MRS. BUSBY. My lady, not one of these men died a peaceful death ; but by battle and duel and sword. That one, [pointing to the one over the door leading to corridor at L.I after a most dreadful crime, died by his own hands, and [ Very strong flash of lightning and loud thunder, with Italian crash. Picture falls. All scream and run to R. H. and huddle together. Mrs. B. falls in SPONGE'S arms and sticks candle in his face ; he pushes her over to BARCLAY. KATE at almost same moment runs into SPONGE'S arms, finds out who it is, runs into R. corner screaming. Children catch hold of SPONGE'S coat tail R. and L.; one crawls under his legs ; some hug round his legs ; all screaming. SPONGE stands 64 SOLID SILVER. ACT in SCENE 3. in an attitude vrith one hand in his breast. This action must be done simultaneously. Thunder and lightning kept up till end. Ring curtain down, when Mrs. B. is pushed from SPONGE, Jr.] ^CURTAIN. ACT FOURTH. SCENE I. Same apartment, and furnished as in Act I, Scene I. SPONGE, Sr., and MORRIS discovered. SPONGE prying round the secretary, R., which is closed ^/.] An old rhinoce- ros and his cub ! [Exit OLDCASTLE. SPONGE, SR. .John, while you are here, and I am getting my breath aft IT my bout of words with that old pettifogger, you'd better read this letter. We're in luck again. Ha ! ha ! [A'// Ax ///x lands. Hands it to SPONGE, Jr., who reads it, tin a carefully folds it into halves."] SPONGE, SR. That's right, Johnny ; you're a credit to me. Neat and business-like eh, Johnny? Endorse it for filing when you get ink. [SPONGE, Jr., deliberately tears the paj)er through the middle, hands one half to his father, (rumples the other half, and puts it into his own pocket.] What are you doing, you loon, you ? SPONGE, JR. We're partners, are we not ? SPONGE, SR. Of course we are, but John [entreatingfy.'] SPONGE, JR. I am dividing the assets of the firm, that's all. I've got my share. Take care of yours, Governor, and endorse it when you get ink. Good bye, Governor. Don't let me detain you. [6rom//.] SPONGE, SR. [ Very earnestly.] But John, SPONGE, JR. Certainly, Governor. You're right. It would be dis- graceful to take her money. I'll tell Miss Huntingdon we can't accept her proposition to pay the Captain's debts of course I will. Don't say another word. SPONGE, SR. * [ Very angrily] But John, L 90 SOLID SILVER. ACT v SCENE 3, SPONGE, JR. Of course you feel insulted by it, but she meant it kindly, and you'll excuse her when you cool off. [Exit SPONGE, Jr. (L. 1 E.), followed by his father. SPONGE, SR. Down I go, for good and all, by Jove ! [Exit L 1 E. SCENE III. The same set as in First Scene of Second Act. BERTHA and OLPCASTLE discovered. MR. OLPCASTLE, (L.) It is a month since I prepared these deeds of gift ; and now that you are threatening to give effect to them, I venture, as your former guardian and present legal adviser, to ask the motives which impel you to this inexplicable act? BERTHA, (R.) I suppose a woman may do as she will with her own. MR. OLPCASTLE. Your legal right can not be disputed. The law is ass enough to presume that discretion comes to women to- gether with lawful age. BERTHA. I have known lawyers and old bachelors still more pre- suming. MR. OLPCASTLE. That's as may be, but if all the law's presumptions were as irrational, it ought to be exterminated. BERTHA. You have a right to know my motives. But you must promise me to keep my secret. I am really dying to tell it to some one. MR. OLPCASTLE, (aside.} Humph ! I thought so ! I know 'em ! ACT v -SCENE 3. SOLID SILVER. 91 BERTHA. Now for in v reasons. First, a most unlawyer-like im- pulse to do justice as well as talk it : and next, an irresist- ible temptation to show the world what you declare has never yet been seen, a sensible woman. MR. OLDCASTLE. Riddles, riddles, bosh and nonsense ! You are doing that whieh may affect your life-long* happiness. BERTHA. I know it well, thank Heaven ! MR. OLDCASTLE. I have no more to say. * BERTHA, (aside.) Thank Heaven for that, also. [Aloud.] Give me my precious papers. MR. OLDCASTLE. [ Throws them on the table .] I wash my hands of all re- sponsibility. It is an act of simple lunacy. What do you suppose your father would say to this most serious nonsense ! BERTHA. That I am about to pay a debt which he owes, equally with me. MR. OLDCASTLE. He had no obligations. If he had a fault, it was ex- travagant justice. BERTHA. I am his daughter, and will be just, as he was. You will remain, won't you, my dear guardian V There, there, sit down. [Pushing A//// plfqtfulfy '// 1> /O//V//V/.N- BERTHA, and extends his hands. She motion* 1 1 in fo stop. He stands amazed.^ Yes, Lear me, all of you ! I have long known his love for me, and felt its blessing on my life. I own my love to-day with greater pride, than if his hand could offer me the coronet of a duke. Mother ! [C/-or.v f, t Mrs. "\VEIR.] Your hand. [Takes it.~\ I claim your love and his protection against the world. The test of gold was not for you, but that these witnesses of mine should see you as I know you are. I knew you would reject my deeds ! [PAUL goes to her, takes her hand, and puts his arm round her waist, and exclaims "BERTHA!" EMILY and Countess sit.'] Enter KATE and SPONGE, Jr. L. 3 E., arm in arm. KATE, (down R. H.) Bertha, dear, what's all this about ? I thought Mr. A Veir was here, not for a council of state, but for air and nursing. MR. OLDCASTLE. Give him time, my dear ; give him time. There'll be plenty of heir and nursing, in good time. Ha ! ha ! [Countess and Lady EMILY look immensely disgusted.'] Excuse me, ladies ! KATE. Oh, bother ! I have been so pestered by this foolish boy, I could not get in earlier. SPONGE, JR. It's no fault of mine. She kept me waiting till I was afraid she had an impediment in her speech, it took her 96 SOLID SILVER, ACT v SCENE 3. so long to say "Yes." But we well, in short, we have arranged the terms of a matrimonial copartnership, sub- ject to Miss Bertha's approval and guaranty. BERTHA. I'll give you all my aid and counsel. COUNTESS. Kate, is this true ? I'm positively shocked, amazed, disgusted. What are people coming to ? SPONGE, JR. To a pair of weddings, I hope, my lady. Are they not, Kate ? KATE. I am sure I can't help it. You plagued me so. LADY EMILY. It is not disgusting, mamma. It's very nice, and so contagious too. I think I could endure plaguing, myself, if that's what they call it. I'll he bridesmaid to you, Kate ! EARL. I did respect you, sir, for scorning to he bribed with money, but never hesitate to take this glorious gift of a true woman PAUL. I know I am not worthy of her love, but if she thinks EARL. Who can be more worthy a noble woman than a true man ? Take her, sir. [Gives BERTHA'S hand to PAUL.] The privilege of caste is fading away. Titles may be and often are the glittering tinsel which but ill conceals base metal : but men like you, who possess patience in ad- versity, courage in danger, and modesty in the hour of victory, are Nature's Solid Silver. RTAIN. v T 0377