LIBRARY OF CONGRESS V «>i. IT. FLi. PR 5219 i^ .R18 F6 Copy 1 ^^ BRiMATIC-L i MATIC- CF cletimg' Pi Printed from the Acting Cbfv, wii( He- marks on the Piece ; Description of Costime ; Cast of Characters; Exits and Entrances; Relative Positions ; and correctly marked with the whole of the as performed in the Ijottdon and tSmeriran Theatres* WITH ■SPIRITED ENGRAVINGS. PHILADELPHIA : FRED. TUIINJER, PUBI^ISKER ; Sold fey Turner aitd Fi§liei?, NEW YORK, & PHILADELPHIA. s \ r E\)z MIqU to America. ^CT I—SCEJ\rE VI. Pawks. I guess, Miss, you'd be glad to get out. Jim Cuow. i^In J emale attire, opens sedan and raises') yagh f yagh ! [Laughs. Pawks. A fine girl he calls her—she's tarnation tall — a poplar in petticoats, I calculate I can never kiss her, wkhouS a ladder. ^u^ner's Bramatfc Sffararg. THE FLIGHT TO AMERICA = OR, TEN HOURS IN NEW YORK! IN THREE ACTS. BY WILLIAM LEMAN REDE, Author of The.Old and Young Stager, Rakers Progress, Come to Town, Gaberlunzie Man, Cupid in London, Wealth and Want, etc. etc. CORRECTLY PRINTED FROM THE MOST APPROVED ACTING COPY, WITH A description of the Costume, Cast of the Characters, Entrances and Exits, Relative Positions, and the whole of tlie Stage Business ; to which are added Psdpertns and Directiotvs, ^s jVow performed iVritE " '' ' LONDON AND AMERICAN THEATRES. Embellislied ivith a Beautiful Ein^raving* FREDERICK T URN ER,— PU BLISHER; TURNER & FISHER, 11 NORTH SIXTH STREET TURNER & FISHER, 90 DIVISION STREET, v '01 COSTUME. BENJAMIN BLINKINSOP.— Light drab short tailed coat, drab breeches, light waistcoat, drab gaiters, white hat. Second dreas — Sailors jacket and trousers. Third dress — The same as first. HICKORY.— Dark brown old-fashioned suit, brown great coat covered with mud. SLAPUP. — Green Newmarket cut coat, red stripe waist- coat, white cord breeches, top boots, broad brimmed hat. UALTON. — Blue frock coat and trousers, cloak. PIROUETTE. — Green square cut coat, pink waistcoat, black breeches, stripe stockings, and short gaiters. MAJOR MOHAWK.— Military frock and trousers. JIM CROW. — Brown short tailed patched coat and bree- ches, red waistcoat, grey worsted stockings, stripe shirt, co- loured neckkerchief. BILLY BROWN.— Firsi _ - Mr. King. Julius C(£sar - . _ - _ Mr. Gibson. Jitti Crow, a Negro Porter and Ostler- - Mr. T. Rice, Juliette la Belle, a Danseuse - - - Miss Daly. Ellen Freegrave, her friend ... Miss Shaw. Mrs. Mohawk - - - - Miss Mayoss. Miss Mohawk • - - . -Miss Harvey. Miss Sarah Snow, a Creole - - - Mrs. Stirling Mrs, Marigold, Keeper of Hotel, New York Mrs. Daly. Visiters to the Ball, Porters,?Passengers, &c. &c. FLICJUT T© AHEKICA, OR TEN HOURS IN NEW YORK. ACT t. SCENE I. — An Jiin at Liverpool. Enter six or seven Sailors, i,. {packet men;) the white mark is vpona board with the words "The Royal William Jor New York Sails all this month ;" u. Another board — "Rocket starts from London, 8^c. reduced fares," l. \st Sailor. Now my lads, a fair wind in the offing, and once more across the Atlantic we go. [Draws board, and shows "Sails this day.'* CHORUS. Air — "College Hornpipe.*' ^v'ry hand op board, for the wind sets fair, Soon the tide will serve, and our way lies there ; Then never grieve like asses, about wives' friends, and lasses; But cheerily, ray messmates to the quay repair. Solo. We have emigrants and vagabonds from eve'ry land. We have actors, factors, traders, as I understand ; Our ships at anchor lying, wjth her colours gaily flying, Then away, away to duty, eve'ry able hand, Every soul on board, &c. ( Exewit omnes, r. Bells ring. Enter Waiter, l. Waiter, Now for another day's work— there 'ant nothing worth living for — I came to Liverpool to be quiet, but here 8 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. I'm hurried worse than in London ; "American Packets," in- deed! (looking at board.) London's emptying itself into New York, and Liverpool acts by way of a conductor. {Bells ring) Enter 2nd Waiter, l. 2d Wait. That's a chaise ; run, Bob, run. 1st Wait. Run, Walker, I'm a waiter, not a runner, what are they? 2d Wait. A dashing young chap and a lady. 1st Wait. Runaways— doing the undutiful — some girl, now, as has run away from a doting father. 2d Wait. Oh! confound your moralizing — toddle, will you? 1st Wait. I'm a going. This way, sir, this way — take care of the step, ma'am. Little does she know of the step she's taken. (Bells ring, l.) Enter Juliette, La Belle, and Ellen, u e l. Jul, (who is dressed en homme.) Look after our luggage, and pay the post boy. Get us an apartment — get us some break- fast — and get along. 1st Wait. Pay the boy—flashy to look at— but I'll have an eye to the trunks. [Bellsring, eiit Waiters. Jul. Here we are, my dear Ellen, in Liverpool ; our cares and our lovers behind us — life and the new world before us. Ellen. With the slight intervention of an ocean, called the Atlantic ; and the probability of an accident, called a pursuit, Jul. The Atlantic — a mere ditch, crossed and re-crossed like Twickenham ferry ; and as to pursuit, my dear — "No catchee, no havee;" and I flatter myself, my disguise is im- penetrable. Ellen. But my dear love, on board the packet, think of the thousand awkward circumstances your assumption of male attire will subject you to. Jul, Think of the ten thousand awkward circumstances it will secure us from — now, no more faint-heartedness, and no more morality— ^oni soit qui mul 1/ pense is my motto. I get rid of a booby lover and au importunate uncle, you gain free- dom ; that's enough. Ellen. But surely, ray love, you could have got rid of your lover without this step ; indeed, begging pardon of your amour propre, I think he was rather disinclined to the match. Jul. I'm sure I did my utmost 10 make him so ; but you don't know all, I was early left a burthen, as he kindly FLIGHT TO AMERICA. g called it, on my uncle's care, with nothing but him and my heels to rely upon ; I danced myself into competence, but am yet my uncle's debter for the care and cost of my childhood. He wished me to wed Blinkinsop, and extorted from him a promise of marriage. Guess my feelings when my uncle avowed his intention of making Blinkinsop marry me instantly, or of proceeding to extremities. Ellen. But your being unwilling — how could hel Jul. As my guardian he could. Blinkinsop's fortune was to indemnify my affectionate relative for my maintainence and education. Do you think I could endure the thought of forcing myself on any man, even if 1 loved him, or of being forced to wed one I did not. So here 1 am, Juliette La Belle, lately of the Opera premier danseu&e, transformed into a very natty fellow, hoping to find in Colombia a home and happiness, Ellen. There's my hand, love — 1 am not as bold a venturer, but you will find me as true, if not as stout-hearted as your- self. ^ DUET — Juliette and Ellen, Jir— "Dusty Miller." Jvl. Helter, skelter, scramble, Gaily will we trudge it j Ellen. Ah, such a ramble, I have fears a budget, JuL Fears, I laugh to scorn; Freely let us revel ; You beside me, I Will face the very Both, Freshly blows the breeze — sailors steer and tack it. Quickly o'er the seas — goes the Western Packet, Ellen. Mind your aunt's advice is, "Home oh! ne'er forsake it ;" Jul. It's as easy, twice is. To give advice as take it, Ellen. Look before you leap. Said her latest letter ; Jul. Leap before you look. Suits my taste much better. Both, Freshly blows the breeze — sailors steer and tack it. Quickly o'er the seas — sails the Western Packet, [Eaii Juliette and Elkn b. 1 e. Bell rings. m FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Waiter (outside l.) London coach — four insides — five out. Waiters enter, l. 1st Wait. This way, sir, this way. [Bell.] Enter Pirouette, l. Pirou. Ah! uoi, uoi ; I never shall go outside de top o'the coach again. Ma foi, my foots is froid. Every ting I've got is froze away, very. Vaiter! Ah, mon Dieu, de English coach is stupid rascal ting, not compare wis de diligence. Vai- ro! vat I shall never be warm again. I am de gooses flesh, all over. Mais my foot is cold, but mon caeur is on fire. Vai- ter! I say. 1st, Wait, Beg pardon — we must attend to our insides first Pirou. The devil take your inside sare ; it is my inside I want attended to. I must have some breakfasts. 2d. Waiter enters l. and crosses, 2d Wait. {Crosses.) No. 5 wants coffee, 18, tea. [Exit r. Pirou. I beg your pardon, sare, but No. 1 want precisely de same ting, if you are so good. 1st Wait. Very well, sir; that's the way to the coffee-room. Pirou, Garcon (crosses n.) restez ici pour un moment, s'il vous plait — attendez— dis is de house for de Packet. 1st Wait. Packets! Oh! yes, sir; there's the board. Pirou. You dam wood head — I no want de board, I want you. The packet sail from your door, eh? 1st Wait. No, sir; not from our door exactly — from the quay, Pirou, Fromde key of your door! vat do you mean, sare? 1st Wait. I mean what I say; I can't help it, if you can't understaad plain English. Pirou. You insult me, I am oflTensive. You tell to me I no speak plain English. Diablement ! I am quite as plaia as you. 1st Wait. Well, I don't say as you a'nt. Pirou. DePacket of America, sare; vat time it shall take fright? 1st Wait. Take fright! What's that? Pirou. Vat's dat — you thick head— vat isdat. [Points to coach-board, L. "Tl.e Rocket starts.'^] 1st Wait. Oh ! start you mean. FLIGHT TO AMERICA If PiroH. C'est egal — start and take fright de same ting — you know him well enough, Is^ Wait. Oh! it goes to-day, weather permitting. Pirou. I want to know when he go wether or no. 1st Wait, That I can't say; it depends on the wind, and I know nothing of that 'ere. [Exit l. Pirou. De wind, and knows nosing of that air: he is stupid — mais the wind shall be very well this morning, I wonder if dal faithless Juliette have got away, I shall run very quick upon her heel. Sacre! Uneingrate, I ave teach her first entre chat, 1 show her the grand mysteries of the sublime science. I show her de purpose for which nature designed de foots — ven she know she scamper away very much. Helas! 1 shall perhaps never set my eyes upon my pupilles again — dis makes me trieste, I ?m miserable. J'en suis au deses- poir. I will go get some breakfasts. [Be//s.] Wait. (Without, l.) This way, gentlemen. Pirou. Ah! here is all de passengers, charmant persons; never speak all de night. Music. Enter several passengers l., cross and exit r, with coachman, luggage, i5fc,. after them enters Mr. Benjamin Blinkinsop, with a travelling cap over a Welch wig, and wrapped in a number of shawls ^c ,; he disbar thens himself of them during scene. Blink. Folks talk and talk about wonderful improvement in travelling — it's all humbug, sir — regular humbug of the first water — unadultered humbug — how dare they pop a man & feet 11 into a vehicle 6 feet by 3 ? Pirou. I hope you are pretty well, I thank you, after youF travel. Blink, Nd, ^r I am not pretty well I thank you, I am cur- sed uncomfortable ; but 1 say, my outsider — you was an out" sider, wasn't you ? Pirou. Oh! — oui — on de top of de outside. Plin. Yes, and I was in the middle of the inside, chewing ray own knees, and trying to digest the leggings of my indes- cribables. Pirou. You have sleep, I see, by your night-caps. Blink, Then you see, more than I know. Sleep! I've heard of men sleeping in a sentry -box, up in a tree, or down in a dry well; but sleep inside a coach I defy you. A fat fellow was op- posite, though, snoring like a rhinocerous, and stretching out his unwieldy legs every moment, kicking the bark off mine; 12 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. and just as I was about getting the first five of forty winks, roc, too, too, too, the Guard's horn goes, and all one's work to do over again. The inside of a coach! it's the black hole of Calcutta, made easy to the meanest capacity. Pirou. Ah! mai foi, de inside is nosing to de out. Blin. De out — why, there you can breathe. Pirou. Certainment, and dere you can freeze, I was cold as vat you call — ice. Blink. That's better than being boiled— I weighed sixteen stone when I set out — I'm slim and genteel now {looking at the board,) Reduced fares, indeed! — it's reduced passengers they ought to talk about. Pirou. It's very nice on de outside — de companion I hare for my companion de voyage — a salmon. Blink, Was he male or female? Pirou, I don't know what he was — he was in the basket behind me. Blink. Well what of that? Pirou. His tail peep out a leetle from de end of de basket. Blink. To be sure to give the poor thing a little fresh air on its journey. Pirou, Yes, sare — in de night he wetted all down my back. Blink. Nasty beast . Pirou, Now he shall come — de tail, I mean, just atde nape' of my neck, and he go all de while drip drip, drip, all dowa here. Ah! it's very pleasant dis riding outside. Blink, You should have done as the lawyers do — dock'd the tail. Pirou. Ha, ha, ha, I have done him — I take my couteatC and knock off his tail for him. Blink. And he'll not get a new one here I can tell ye,- tho Liverpool's a sea-port — I fancy they don't TQ-tait fish. Enter 2d Waiter, r. 1 s. 2d Wait Breakfast's ready, sir. Pirou. I am ready for him. Allons, monsieur. Exit [Pirou^ Blink. Allons, Allez vous s'en I'm not going to munch bread and butter, and swallow slip slop, I've seven pounds of sandwiches left yet. "The Royal William sails this day:"" when was that put up? 2d Wait. The board, sir? — about a fortnight ago. Blink. Oh, this day, means any day she sails, I suppose. 2d Wait, Just so, sir. [Exit 1 e. r. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 13 Blink, Pleasant — I must keep incog, or my trip t© America will turn into a jaunt to Spike Hall, or Abbott's Priory. Enter Dalton, l. Well, fellow-sufferer! Dal. Rare news, the wind's fair — the packet sails to day for certain. Blink, That's the first pleasant thing I v'e heard — then we shall get off, Dal. Decidedly — but, man alive, what puts you into such a confounded fluster, — that I, who hav'nt a penny, with more duns at my heels than hairs on my head, should be anxious to emigrate, isn't to be wondered atj but you — young — rich. Blink. That's it, you see, you hav'nt a penny — you're a happy dog — I have some pennies and an't inclined to lose 'em. Dal, But what danger is there of your doing so ? Blink. Dollops of danger, and a little to spare. Mr. Ho- ratio Dalton, you're a fortunate fellow, and don't know it; I'm an unfortunate one and do. Is your nature susceptible? Dal. Try me. Blink. I will — I'll unbosom myself — I've a load here — my heart's as heavy as a bullock's. You see, Mr., some folks are born with silver spoons in their mouths, others with wooden shovels. Dal. Ladles. Blink. All's one for that — now I was a ladler at first, born in poverty, and nursed in — Dal. Misery. Blink, No, sir, in Mutton-lane, Clerkenwell. DaL Romantic vicinity. Blink. Uncommon — charmingly laid out in the brokery and crockery line, — now, for all I was one of the wooden ladlers at first — my spooney days were to come. Dal. No doubt. Blink, I'd an uncle as no one ever thought of, brings his body back from New York, with a heap o'money, and the sweetest asthma you ever heard. Dal. I see, you ingratiated yourself with hira and— Blink. Not a bit of it ; he licked me as though he had a right to do It, and mother winked at it, 'cause, she said the flogging wou'd be the better for me in the end — which end she meant 1 did'nt know — so the more he lairupped me the more pleas- ed she was. B 14 FLIGHT TO AxMERlUA. Dai. But you — Blink. On thecontraiy — rplite the reverse. Dal. Well, he died. Blink. Yes, and insulted me in his last will. Dal. Insulted you, how] Blink. In these worci's, "I leave the bulk of my property to my nephew, Ben, because he's too great a fool to earn his own bread." Dal. VVell, you can forgive th;\t. Blink. Bless you, bear no mdtl!;i(?e; popped up a tomb-stone — "tender father, kindrehitive best, of men;" not a word ab- out his walloping me, but all all affection; got my fortune, turned west-ender, and now comes the critical point; to the opera I goes, falls in love up to my false collar with one of the sylphs, was introduced to her sly old codger of an uncle, and-*- Dal. And what? Blink. Gave a promise of marriage. Dal. Well. Blink. Well! Did you ever give such a promise? Dal. Half a dozen, I dare say. Blink. Ah! there's nothing like being used to a thing ; but pray how many montlis were your's after date, Dal. I don't understand you. Blink. 1 promised to many in six months, time's up, my mind changed, he threatens law, so I depart. Dal. But wherefore haNeyou foisakenthe lady. Blink. Oh' her twisting and twirling was all very well at first; but I have so much of that damn'd susceptibility, and next season came Tagiioni; I could'nt stand this [imitates the bound of Tagiioni.] and, seeing that I was likely to be in love with every new comer, and as a moral man I could'nt marry a fresh dancer every season, so I cut and run. Dal. Leaving the poor danscuse to break her heart unheed- ed. Blink. Dancers' hearts get so bobbed about, that they're too slippery to break; beside, 1 surely might cut one when she used to be continually cutting six — eh, mister ? Dal. As you are so susceptible, take care you don't rhap- sodise into another pjomise in Mew York. Blink. Leave me alone; once bit, yeu know; besides, can't there. Dal. Can't, why not? Blink. All the laditsin New York are in the ui:ited state already. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 15 Dalt. Well,l must see myltigg^ag^ safely on board: your berth is secured, you say [B. j.oiis.] belter fortune attend us sn New A'ork. [ x'"( Dalton, r] Blink. So say I; but I'm not like some of your snivellers, there is'nt a soul in the world I care a farthing about, nor a thing — yes, one thing, the opera, that's the place for a chap who has taste and susceptibility, MliDLEY. BlINKINSOP. Air. — "Non piu Andrai." All my eye, all my eye is the drama, 'i'ragic dames ca'ling names in gold lama, Dury Lane. tLnglish, Op., Covent Garden, 1 leave when the Opera invites. Air. — "Largo Factotum." Forth merrily grinning, the buffo bounds, Lai, lal, &c. Round, cherrilv ringing, the laugh resounds; Lal, lal, &c. Lablache, Tamburini, Grisi, Rubini, Basso, contralto, tenor and alto, i love 'em all, I love 'em all. Air. — "Suoni di Tromba." Deep rolls the baritone's voice oat. Thundering follows him the burly base, There notes like an organ swelling,, What tone, what power, what grace. Air. — "Son "S'irgin Vezzosa." Balm-breathing soprano, dulcissimo, piano. Each bosom assailing, she triumphs o"er all; The loves and the graces have taken thetr places In her lovely bosom, and come and come at her call. Recitative. Then the ballet, oh, carissfmo, Pirouetting, kickerrissimo. Air. — "Cest I'amour.'* Oh ! what grace, what grace, what grace. And what a witching fotm, l^iat face, that face, that face, that face, VVilltake the town by storm [Afeu^ bars, he (tuiix-esu la Sytphida, 16 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Tarantella. Bounding as light as the gay tarantella. And twisting and twirling a deuce of a fellow, Pirouetting, curvetting; I really can't tell, oh! What wonderful wonders the creature performs, [Exit R. SCENE II. — Room in an Inn, — Roadside. Enter Old Hickory and Slapup, r., covered with mud. Hick. Here's a mess, I believe I've dislocated my shouldejf bone. Enter Waiter, r. Wait. Choose any refreshment, sir? Hick. Yes. sir. Wait, What'll you be pleased to order, sir? Hick. Clean water, soap, and towel. Slap. I say, young un, how far's this from Liverpool'! Wait. About thirty miles, sir. Slap. What coaches is there? Wait. None, sir, this aint the high road. Hick. I told you so, but you would take the near cut, a^ you called it, down that confounded lane. Wait. What, sir, have you come through Deadraan's-lane; you're very lucky to have got safe; they generally knocks down one or two a day there, sir. [Exit Waiter, r. Hick. Charming neighbourhood. Slap. Now don't put yourself in a fluster, old gentleman, we've had a spill, but it might have been worse; hsve missed the covey we were looking arter, and that might have been better; but we're all right, nevertheless, old one. Hiek. How do you mean, all right; has'nt my niece bolted without as much as good bye t'ye — has'nt Blinkinsop done the same'' Lookee, Master Slapup, Juliette is no blood of mine, what have I to do with my wife's relations. Slap. Nothing whatsumdever. Hick, July's father did'nt cut up quite as bad has been thouhgt. Slap. I sees it with half an eye; you touched the cole and bred up the girl, kept her safe, and of course, as was proper^ did the same by the rhino. Hick. Exactly; now if she goes scampering through the world, she'll get picked up by some vagabond that has a taste for looking over old accounts. FLIGflT TO AMERICA. 17 JStap, In course, there's thousands such chaps. Hick. They'd talk of refunding'. Slap. The very v/orst sort of funding'. Hick. Now you perceive why I wanted to marry my July to a fool, and to receive from him, for her maintenance and ^education, then exchange receipts in full of all demands — eh? Slap. Well, we're provided for that; it's all the go to visit America; if they've gone we'll follow ; when at New York, if we can't do it with civil process, why you must stretch a point and swear a robbery. Hick, Swear — umph — 1 don't much like oaths and witness boxes. Slap. Nonsense, what's a witness box made for but to ena- ble a man to purtect his own property. Hick. A very sensible remark ; her property is in America; now I've a nephew there. Slap. A nephey have you. Hick. And if Blinkinsop don't meet my views, why my sister's son, Feterkin Pawks of Virginia, may. Slap, It's all right, Mr. Hickory ; let us pop a comfortable couple of bottles here under our vaistcoats, and then follow suit ; if we catcher 'em this side the water, well ; if not, won't we sarve 'em out on t'other. [Exit both, r. SCENE HI. — Deck of an American packet. Two cabin heads. A chariot made out and pructirable, so that roof as well as inside can be used. Mrs. Mohawk, Major and Miss Mohawk, Juliette, Ellen, Dalton, and Passengers, discovered ivith Pirouette, Borders half down. Music — rapid at first, with the btistU of the scene-— then settling to Glee. TENORS AND BASSES. Slow — " The boatie rows.'^ Oh weel may the boatie row. That scuds before the wind ; And safe may the rovers go. Who leave their homes behind. 19 FLl GHT TO AMERICA. The boatie rows, the boatie rows. It scuds before the gale ; May fortune hover o'er her bows. And freedom fan her sail. Every body, quick — " Yankee Doodle" On the boundinfT billows borne. To the New World steering, With delight we'll hail the sight Of freedom's land appearing ; The broad Atlantic bears our prow, No danger dread we, when, sir. Our vessel's heart of oak, we know. And heart of oak, our men, sir. O'er the bounding, &c. Jul. As T live, there's Pirouette ; my dancing master first, my lover afterwards. No matter, I'll brazen it out ; he will never recognize in a middy his "adorable Juliette." [They go up. Maj, M. Here we go at a killing pace — fair wind and clear course — don't be so down in the mouth, monsieur, Pir. Que est que c'est ? — vat is that downy mouth ? Mrs. M. It's Mr. M.'s way, my dear sir — he thought you seemed melancholy. Pir. Melancholy ? Ah ! Madame, c'est impossible, when I have de pleasure to converse wis you. Mrs. M. Oh, sir, all you French gentlemen are so kind to the ladies. Pir, Ah ! oui — mais de ladies have behaved very bad to me — Maj. M. Jilted you, mayhap — gave you the go-by — bolted off the course — stole away, Pir. Several times — Ah ! nadame — Ah ! monsieur j I am miserable — you are happy wis dis lady— I have none, Maj. M. Well, why don't you get one? Mrs. M. I'm sure a gentleman of your accomplishfnents might, Pir. You are so good — mais, Madame, I ave been marri— r shall be fifteen — twenty years ago. Maj. M. Lost your wife, 1 take it. Pir. She ran away. Mrs. M. Sad work, monsieur. PLIGHT TO AMERICA. 19 Pir. Ah ! — oui, dam bad, madame. 1 sail keep von aca- 4emie for de danse — mais, my vife, she keep von auberge — de gentilhommes sail come — one, two, three; merchant, offioare, and she go — "how do you do, if you please," to one ; "I hope you are very handsome," to another ; she vas alvays grin ; mais she vas beauty woman. I say, madame, I sail not nave him, you sail never smile ; but pour moi — then she turn to me wis such a smile — just so. Ah! she vas beauty womans — but my rapture vas not long. Von morning I go out see my pupille — I return, 1 say, where is madame I De garcon say, "begar madame gone out to valk," c'est bien ; I go up de stairs, dere is no bed, no chair, no nosing at all — I say, garcon, "ave de tables gone out to valk too," and he say, ." yes/' and begar he said true — dey all go out to valk in a cart. Miij, M. I see, she mounseer, you was distanced. Mrs, M. And did you never hear of her after ? Pir. Ah ! oui — begar she came again six or three years after him. She say, "Comment vousportezvous. Monsieur]'* I say, you dam rascal ; mais I perceive three, four, little gar- cons, all so high as dat ; I say, eha ! vere you shall find him, and vat you do vis my furniture ? She say, "Oh ! Monsieur, I ave not de furniture, but I ave brought you some oder fur- niture," and de garcons come run about my foots. 1 say, dam, 1 sail no have de live stock ; dey all run up to me, and call me "Papa" — I say, pooh, pooh — no papa ; den she give me de look, and my heart all oyer soft— she vas beauty wo- mans, and I forgive her. Mrs. M. What a lesson for husbands — and se you have been happy ever since. Pir. Madame, vat you sail tink, two or three months apres, begar she ron away again, and leave me wis de dam little garcons, vat I sail never know. Mrs. M. Whatever did you do, sir ? Pir. Madame, I go to les enfans trouves, I say to him, I have des dam garcons, mais de say they are too big— great deal — if you ave any little von, pop him in de basket. 1 say dam, I can get no little one; you tink all de family are bad as one anoser. [They go up u. Ellen, {down L.) Then your French lover proves te be a Benedict after all. Jul, The wretch I It only proves, my love, what I have always said— that the fellows, French or English, are all alike. 30 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Dal. You belong to the new world, I believe, sir ? Muj. M. Raised in Boston — so was she, my daughter. Dal, An amiable specnnen of the beauty of your native city, sir. Muj, M, Aye, sir, Boston's the place. England's very well, but, if you was to boil down the whole world, you couldn't make another Boston. Eater B u t^Kis sop, from cabin stairs, in sailor's trousers and Jacket, Blin. I won't stand it, and I can't lie it. 1 can't live six weeks in a cabin, six feet by four, steward ! {Fulls up trou- sers,) I can't keep these things up. Steward, (l. c.) WeU, sir. Blin, Do you know the gentleman who occupies the next cabin? Is he a long one — if not, give my compliments, should feel particularly obliged if he'll suffer a hole to be cut from my cabin into his, and not feel offended if my legs occa- sionally stray into his apartment. Jul. (l. c ) As I live and breathe, there is Blinkinsop as well as Pirouette. Ellen, (l.) Do they know each other ? Jul, I neither know nor care. 1 am only anxious they should not know me. Dal. (r.c.) Well, Blinkinsop, the weather's getting a little roughish — there's a great swell. Blin. (c.) Yes, and there's a little one— how he struts in his uniform ; twig his dirk — they shouldn't suffer children in arms aboard ship. Dal. That's a pretty creature. Blin. Which? Dal. That beside the young fellow with the hanger on. Blin. Yes, some hanger on of his, no doubt. I'll do the agreeable ; my confounded susceptibility comes over me again. Hope you enjoy {she turns i/p)— that is, miss, I trust {she again avoids him) —cuts me, I declare— no matter- — rii Jul. (advancing.) Any thing to say to that lady, sir ? Blin. I, sir ? Why, sir — no, sir. Jul. Oh! [coolly. Blin, He's one of your fire-eaters — never mind — try an- other — you feel quite as you wish to be, and han't no nasty all-overishness which some folks have aboard ship. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 21 Mrs. M. Oh, sir, I'm really quite pleased — we've cattle oa (board, my husband tells me. Blin. Oh, yes, ma'am, plenty of cattle, no doubt. Mrs. M, There's a cow and a sheep, and is that usual? Blin. Yes, ma'am, in Liverpool packets, but, if you go from Portsmouth, you take Cowes in the way. Dal. There's a buoy. Pir, One of my dear little boys — where ? Mrs. M. Oh, pick him up, for Heaven's sake ! Blin. He won't hurt, ma'am — that's the fifteenth buoy we've passed since we left Liverpool. Mrs. M. How dieadful ; that accounts for what one sees in the paper so often — mysterious disappearance of a young- gentleman. Sai. By the mark, seven. Mrs. M. Seven ! Poor little fellows. Blin. No, ma*am, he's only taking soundings. Mrs. M. Soundings ! What, are we unsound ? Blin. I don't know, ma'am, I an't. Mrs. M. Is there any danger of leaks? Blin. Not here, ma'am — never have any leaks, except on sthe coast of Wales. Mrs. M. Oh, dear, the ship begins to waggle, waggle ; — what's the cause of this ? [Ready lights, Sai. (grufly) Only the pitch of the vessel, ma'am. Mrs. M. Well, I'm sure, what is he ? Blin. He, ma'am, is the tar of the vessel. Bless me, ma'am, you look quite pale. Mrs. M. Pail, pail ! [Steward hands her down. Pirouette has been gradually getting icorse, and at last sits down with his head over afoot-bath. Pir. Mon Dieu! I am sick very. Stew. Beg pardon, sir, that's a foot, not a shower bath. Miss M. Will yoH tell me, sir, when we are on the high seas. Blin. Yes, ma'am, the moment I sees I will. Why, mon- sieur, you're done, I see. Aha ! you Frenchmen can't stand the ocean, it's a Briton's element. {Get's sick and leans on Dakar's shoulder) I beg your pardon — Rule Britannia, Bri- tannia rules the waves. Holloa! I wish she'd rule 'fern a jittle straighter. (From carriage on deck an invalid puts out his head) Blin. Steward, attend to that gent-le-man. 28 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Stew. What's the matter, sir ? ]7iv. Very bad, want to be ill, and I can't. Stew What's the matter with you, sir? Bl'm. Very bad, want to be we 1, and I can't. {Music here begins) Stew. Better sit down, sir. [Puts a place for him behind coach. BUn. sils. Pir. has crawled on the roof of the coach) Ah ! Mon Dieu! Oh ! I am mal du tete. 1 have de bad of the head. [Lights graduullif down. Thunder. Music — "Rise, gentle Moon." Cloud cloth continues to work. Moon obscured, dis' taut thunder. Stew. Better go down to your cabin, sir. Blin. jMo, sir; 1 shall stay here till I see a ship, and go back. Stew. You'll stay here till we ship a sea and go over. Blin. Hey ? give us your hand ; I'm only a little giddy. "The sea, the sea, the open — " [He is taken down. Stew, (to Pirouette) Better go below, sir. Pir. Sare, I sail go below, sare, to the fathomless abyss. I am derange with my suffering, (kicks violently) Inv. I'd be very much obliged by your not kickkig over my head just now, sir. Pir. Mon Dieu'. [Invalid draws in hastily. Jul. So we are the bravest sailors amongst them {thunder') I find ; but come, let me hand you to your cabin, dear, and say adieu ; 1 hear the roll of thunder — we shall have a storm, 1 Jear, Captain. Cap. Ay, a bit of a squall, and not long first, I reckon. {Alusic — Commencement of Stiebelt's storm. Juliette hands Elleii to thejurther cuhin stairs. The slorm increases. Cap. {calls tlirough truinpet) Hand your top-gallant sail. Crew, Aye, aye, sir. [Two boys go up. Cap. All hands to reef topsails. Crew, Hoy, hoy, sir. Cap. Stow the mainsail. Crew, Aye, aye, sir. Cap. Hawl in the sheet. Crew. It's gone, sir. Ca;}. Brail up your driver. [The storm increases. Lightning, thunder; the sea rolling mountains high. Pirouette kicks in the blinds of chariot. Invalid pops his head in. Crash. Screams througli cabins every body rushes on deck, some half dressed, Btinkinsop wrapped in a blanket. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 23' Hurry— Mozart. All. Now , now, now, what the devil is the matter. Row, row, row, what a curs'd noise ; How, how, how, stay their curs'd clatter, Now, now, now, pull away, my boys.^ Speak, speak, speak, let us know, od rot 'em; Leak, leak, leak, are we going down ; Speak, speak, speak, we'te going to the bottom. Leak, leak, leak, what a thing to drown. Now, now, now, what the devil, &c. [Crash. Scream. Everu body faints in every body's arms.} Cap. (^ihrouiih trumpet) She rights— she rights. Gun Jired and ring down* END OF ACT I. ACT V. SCENE I.— Exterior. Music. Enter Slapup. Slap. Confound your Yankee roads, and curse your Yankee cattle. What am 1 to do 1 There's my vehicle stuck in the mud three feet deep. Here house, where aie you all ? Tost horses and another vehicle directly. Enter Pawks. Paw. Holloa ! you're making a pretty considerable row, I reckon. You want post horses, do ye ] Now who are ye — where were you raised — how do they call you — where do you come fiom — where do you want to go to — are you a man of a help ? SLirp. I'm a man, and want help, as you see. Faw, I'm inclined for a paction ; I m just come from Vir- ginny, and have no objection to sell my turn-out to take you your journey. Slap, (tnoking off l) What, that crazy concern 1 No go. Why that'll never get over these beastly swamps. 24 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Faio, Beastly swamps ! Well, if ever I heard any thing to ditto that. There's not a swamp in America but's a perfect pride of Paradise. Slap. Aye, you think so- but you're one of the natives, T take it. Faw. A native — what a'ye mean by native ? I've a notion you're poking fun at me considerable. I just warn you, my father was the strongest man in Old Virginia, and I wal lopped my father. I'm a riglar built V^irginian, and if you thinks to undervalle us or our swamps, tarnation take me if 1 don't lick you elegant. Slap. Lick me? gammon and all you would ; but, however, I don't want no quarrelling, nor to offend you or any other Yankee Doodle. Paw. Oh ! as long as you're affable, I'm as sociable and delightful as is j but I stands no affronts to me or my coun- try. Slap. Right; them as don't love their country, let *em leave it, T say. Paw;. You have left your'n, I think ; now what are you ? Slap. That's nothing to you, I suppose. Paw. Oh ! no ways material ; who are you ? Slap. My name's Slapup — I'm going to Virginia ; my vehi- cle is stuck in a bog yonder, and I wants another to pursue tny route. Paw. {^smoking) That thing all on one side is the carriage, I reckon; that's in as awkward a fix as ever I see^ 1 knows that swamp well ; there's a power of mud, but no great mat- ter of water. Slap. Does that swamp go on any further ? Pato, No, I never knowd it to stir from where it is. Slap, I mean, is there more of it that way ; and is it sofind at the bottom ! Paw;. That's beyond my knowledge ; I reckon it is ; a power of people have been smothered there, but if any of 'em did find the bottom, I calculate they never made no mention of its being sound or no. There's no post horses here, but the boss has two elegant behaved oxen as steps out remark- able. Slap. I, who have tool'd two bits of blood in a tandem, to be drawn by oxen — come, that's too good. So, Mr, Peterkin Pawks, of Virginia, you'll get none of my company. Paw, Pawks, did you say-^what do yoa want with him ? FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 25 Slap. Sir, 1 have particular business with him. Paw. Then I reckon your upset was a lucky coincidence of events. I am Peterkin Pawks. Slap. You! Paw. The very same. Raised in Yirginny — got a planta- tion and thirty niggers there and two houses, and one uncle in New York. Slap. From that very uncle I come, Mr. Jacob Hickory. Paw. Well, if I live to eternity, i shall never obliviate this go. (Slapup gives letter.) There's his pothooks, sure enough. " Capital chance — wife and a fortune." I appro- bate that considerable. My uncle's sent for me to get «ie married. Slap. Exactly so, but take care, for you have a rival, can tell ye. Paw, A rival — I'll beat him into immortal smash if he dares keep his eyes open as the lady walks by. I would — you needn't stare. I've whipped the finest fellow in our partsj t'other day I licked the oldest man in the place. Look ye here — iron all over, pieced with rock. One of my blows to any man is either lon;^ sickness or sudden death. Slap, It may be necessary, you see, to carry off the lady.^ Paw. I'm no ways objectionable. I'll run away with any thing from sixteen to sixty with any man in Yirginny. As to this lady, she's an Englisher, I reckon. Slap. She is, her name Juliette. The first objectis to place her again in the hands of her guardian. Paw. I realise you're an agent in this affair. Slap. Yes ; and no time's to be lost ; for this very evening, as soon as it's dark, she must be carried oflT. Paiv. Soon as it's dark 1 It's never properly dark in Nev^ York ; now, in Yirginny it's sometimes so dark you can't see the flashes when it lightens. Slap. Will that there vehicle of your'n take us? Paw. Why I dubitate, as we're in a hurry, whether we hadn't better walk ; my horse has a notion of progressing backwards, and aint no ways agreeable. Come away — I've a power of things to do in New York — advertise a d — d nig- ger as has run slick away ; and what with that and marrying, 1 shall have my arms full, I calculate. [Exit Pawks and Slapup, r. 26 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. SCENE II. — The Quay of New York, Negro porters, and others, waiting the arrival of the packet. Chorus, "Negro Melody." The packet is in sight, my boys, hurra, hurra. Be ready every porter there, huzza, huzza ; Come bustle, bustle, niggers, all run up and down, Take the plunder from the vessel through the town. Now don't stand debating, put your shoulders to the wheel, There'll be plenty in the freighting for the barrow and the creel ; Work, work, my jolly dogs, till twilight shadows fall. Den ebery colored gemmen to the party or de ball. The packet is in sight, &c. Billy. Brown. What ship in sight, sar ? Porter. De Royal William (grujiy.) Billy. Tank you, sar ; deblish fine gal come dis way>-^who am she? Copper Charley. Why, you fool, you not know Miss Sarah Snow — the finest woman in New York, 'pen honor, Billy. Lubly cretur, I declare. Enter Sally Snow. All. How do. Miss Sarah? Hope you very well. [M bow, Sally. I very well ; how am you 1 What, the packet am not come yet ? Billy. You expect some one — some lubber, I spose. Sally. No, sir — a lady of my private acquaintance. Billy, Beg pardon, I'm sure. Sally. A lady as am taken the tower of Europe to im- prove herself in elegant eomplishraents {looking about the crowd.) Billy. You believe her 1 Char. Bah ! Billu. All trash — no meet any lady. I know who she come to meet— dat dam Jim Crow. Ah, Miss Sarah, you am look for Master Crow — I wonder you waste your lubly eyes on dat fellow. Sally. Never you mind, sir, I cast my lubly eyes whereber 'em like. Crow, (ivithoiU.) Oh ! such a getting up stairs, and playing on the fiddle. Such a getting up stairs I never did see. All, Ah! ah! here's Jim Crow. FLIGHT TO AMERICA: 27 Enter Jim Crow, r. Jim. Ha! ha! well, here you am all — Miss Sarah Snow, I am delighted to see you. Porter. Well, Jimmy, what have you come here for 1 Jim. Same as oder gentlemen, 1 spose, sir — come to see if any gentleman wants anoder gentleman to carry his plunder for 'em ; Miss Snow, you are more lubly than ever. Sally. Oh, Missa Crow— for shame, Master Crow,— in public, and all the white trash looking at us — you make me blush. Jim. You wasn't at de ball last night, Miss Sarah. Sally. No — de company was very mixed. Jim. Iss — very much mixed company, and very much mixed liquor — it was not de select thing at all. Some deblish fine creturs dere, but not one to compare to Miss Snow. Sally. You insinivating cretur. Mr. Crow, I'm afraid you are a terrible rake. Jim. No, no, 'pon honor. Sally. And you neglect yourself, sar ; you're not near so smart as you used to was. Jim. Smart — this am bery good suit of clothes. Sally. Why they are nothing but rags and patches. Jim. Patches? No, 'em not patches. 1 want strong clothes, so, fear it tear, I stick on dese for strengthening plasters. All. Ha! ha! ha! Sally. But then your hat, am shocking bad hat. Jim. Berry good hat — cost me Is. 9d; 'em ladies say a white hat become me best. All. Ha ! ha ! ha I Sally. Mr. Crow, you expect some friends, some 'lations from toder side de water. Jim, No — 1 hab no 'lations dere — only one broder. and we no speak. Sally. Why not ? Jim. He disgrace de family by imprudent marriage (proud- Sally. I wonder you neber marry yourself. Mr. Crow. Jim. Why, Miss Sarah, I have very good opportunities in some of de first families where I visit— but 1 hab set my heart on peticklcr lady — besides, I no sure dat I am quite the per- son to make a lady of nice feelings happy {coyiceitedly.) What you think, Miss Snow 1 28 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Sally. Oh ! Mr^ C. AIL {from behind) The. packet, the packet. Music. An inataiitaneous bmtle, L u l; the boat comes in sight, and the passengers land; trucks, barrows, etc., in requisi- tion, into lohich boxes, etc., etc, are placed. During following, Biilii and Charley crowd vpon Crow ; one of the porters lays hold of barrow: Crow kicks him. Air — "Negro Melody," Jim Crow. Get you out of the way, you dam ugly black nigger How dare 'em interrupt a man of ray figer? I'd hab you know, though it's what you mayn't be pleas'd at, Dat I am a gemman as is not to be sneez'd at ; Any gemman want a porter — I would let him know, There's not a fellow in New York can beat Jim Crow. All. Any gemman want a porter, please to let him know. The idlest fellow in New York is old Jim Crow, Juliette and Blinkinsop land. Air-—'" Sabotiere," Jul. Fortune be praised, I am out of the packet, Orce more on dear terra hrma I stand. What a confusion, what bustle and racket — A squall on the sea, and a riot on land. Blin. Waves— waves— I'm heartily tir'd out, I long for a ramble on heather once more. Port. "i Here— here are lads to be hir'd out ; Jim Crow. J Say, shall we carry your luggage ashore ? Biin. Stop, stop, amid so mary black faces, it won't be easy to find a light porter. Jim. I'ss, massa ; I'm light porter. Blin. I shouldn't have guessed it ; you're a rum one to look at ; hoist up the trunk. I say, you're not light fingered, are you ? Jhn. Sar ! Blin. Can you recommend me a hotel 1 Jim. Iss, sar, um can; one I frequent myself; very good society meet dere. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. «» Blin. So I should think. [Porter (mulatto) assisting Crow in putting great boxes into truck, lets one Jail. Take care, ebony. Jim. (to porter) What you am about, sar, must 'poligire to you, sar, but dis only pupil of mine, and hasn't my finished manner, {to Biinkinsop.) You dam stupid fellow— you no porter, (to porter.) Blin. Porter, no ; I see that by his color; he's no porter ; he's only half and half. Jim. Gib yourself no trouble, [take ebery ting under my care ; dere's ray card. Blin. (reads) "Mr James Crow, Director of Squestrean Stabiishment." Squestrean Stablishment, what the deuce is that? Jim, Iss, sar, what you am call bossier. Blin. Oh ! ostler ! Gemmen is requested to obser\e as T am raal Jim Crow, as so many posters am about, — what's that? Jim. Them chaps as go about town singing my Jim Crow. Blin. Mr. James Crow, 1 am deliglued to have made your acquaintance. Jim. Quite mutual, I 'sure you, sar. B^in. Now, Mr. Crow, if you're not too much engaged, I should like to secure your invaluable services whils', I remain in this city. Jim. Hab no objection to enter into a paction wid you, or any oder geraman. [Takes up barrow. Blin. Beg ten thousand pardons, ladies, can I be of any service? [To Ellen and M^s. Mohawk, Ellen, ( With whom is Mrs. Mohawk.) I thank you, sir, but we are already settled. Blin. Good thing the voyage is over ; one gets so confoun^ ded susceptible abroad ship; ail down this side of the way. (Touching his heart.) 1 was getting my old symptoms ; why, hey-day! (Seeing the I arrow deserted.) Crow, I say — Jim. (Is conversiug very tenderly with Sally Snow.) Iss, sar, directly, just one moment- excuse me, little private conversa- tion wid dis lady. Sally. Adoo, Mr. Crow, we sail meet den at the ball. Jim. Um, certaialy ; and for dat wait while I take um trunk down, and den I come back, and, till then, adoo. Both, Adoo. (Very ceremoniously.) Blin, That's a pretty little creature — an image of Venus in copper. 30 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Jim. Now, sar, I am ready. {He takes up harrow.) Stand out of de way, you dam black nigger ; let me and toder gera- man go by. [One of the poners stands, l. e. n. Crow wheels him off. Sally. Him berry fine man — only him had such berry shab- by clothes. [Exit r. Blin. Here I am, in the land of liberty, a single man, of rather a prepossessing appearance. I wonder if American ladies are susceptible ; if so, what will become of poor Jona- than ; let's see, they call England the mother country, Ireland the sister country, then America must be the wife or daughter country. Yes, I shall get married here, I know it ; the very air has an united state sort of feel about it, I'm a victim at the altar of Hymen ; talking of Hymen, where's that damn'd six teen feet and a half porter ? here, Jimmy — Mr. Crow, I say, [Exit, R. Enter Juliette and Ellen, u. e. r. Jul. Confound that fellow Dalton's eyes, he seems to have penetrated my disguise, and now, my love, it's high time we began to think of our affairs. My ci-' levant admirers, though they did not recognise me in this dress, of course will readily do so in my own. Ellen. But, from Mr. Blinkinsop, you have no fear? Jul. Oh ! no, he has renounced me : you, I think, have made a conquest there. Now, don't hang your head, child, there's no shame in an honest attachment; 1 am, I must own, strongly taken with that fellow, Dalton. Ellen. But, my love, 1 heard him confess he hadn't a penny. Jul. Neither have I, we shall be a charming couple ; they say, those who wed for money are always miserable ; well, then the converse will hold good; so, if we marry witUout a shilling between us, we must most indubility be happy. So, allons. [Eieunt, 1 e, r. Enter Sal'ly, r.u. e. Sally. Well, I'm sure, I nebber see sich imperence ; white trash follow coloured lady in dat manner; if Missa Crow catch him dere'U be debbil to pay. [Enter Pirouette, rue, and follows Sally up and down stage. Pir, Aha! maid, have I at last overtake you? Your little feet are like de black beetles. I wish to converse wid you. You are beauty womans. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 31 Sally. Well, em know dat berry well ; all de gentlemen say I debilish fine gal. Pir. Oui, oui ; your face is like de beauty boot, after he shall have de Day and Martin pon him. SaUy. Him beny polite. Pir. If you please, 1 wo'd converse wid you pon a tender subject. Sally. Me know berry well what you want ; you got squeak- ing kindness for me ; you want to make love, not proper in publican streets. Pir. I wishj^to explain myself — I have come to settle it New York, you have surprised my heart at de first sight. I am a widow. Sally. What I mind dat, tink you, sar ? I lub another, much lublier man dan you ; think I descend to chum chum wid white trash, Pir. CharmantMiss Snow, you melt my heart, you — Sally. If you 'tempt to come near me I call a watch, you dirty feller. I wish Missa Crow would come back and give em satisfaction of a lady. Pir. Begar — I sail blackness his eye, pull his head off, and blow his nose. Sally. It no use to talk to me sar, em engaged. Dark lady nebber tell white lie : take a my advice, keep out of Missa Crow's way. If he see you make lub to me, him so jealous, him shake him ugly little head into him shoes. [Exit t. Pir, He sail nebber do dat. I shall always wear de boots. I am for ever disappointed — de fair sex and the black sex take no compassion on my feelings and sentiments. I will never no more look after the marriage wid dem — I'll disappoint them all, and marry myself. [Eiit. l. Music, Re-e7iter Jim CnoYf and Savly Snow.* Jim, Dere you am, Miss Snow, 1 particular wish to speak to you, 'pose you guess de subject, I wish to converse 'pon. S-illy. Iss, Massa Crow, me know berry well ; you want to make lub to me, not proper, sir, in publican streets. Jim. Miss Sarah, 1 wish to'splain de sedementsof my heart, you know me hab an infection for you ; now, look at me, I'm *The dialogue between Pirouette and Sally, just given, has been substituted for this, but, as Mi. Rice sometimes restores it, it was deemed best to give both scenes. 3t FLIGHT TO AMERICA. berry nice man, berry well made, and make berry good chum chum. Sally. For shame, talk'ee so in 'em publican streets, you am gay deceiver, you know dat berry well. Jim. Miss Sarah, ma'am, if you lude to my fair wid de lady in Wall-street, I 'sure you I'm not to blame ; as to de toder lady, who threw herself into deriver, what da debil could I do; if ladies will be fond of us gentleman, how can we help it? Sally. Oh, how nice, will you promise to be constantine for eber and eber ? Jim. For eber, and much longer den dat, here 1 am on my knees, in a kneaded poster, all same as at camp meeting. Sally. I shall sider your compositions ; deres one or two gentleman anxious for my hand. Jim. Where are 'em d d niggers, I be de death o'em Oh, Miss Snow, if you no have me, I commit suetside from trumpery derangement ; I am little darker than you, what of dat? good men of all colors, I'm berry good man, belong to the first class, and much suspected in the upper circles. Sally. Well, Massa Crow, if your boss has no jection, deres my hand. Jirn. Let him 'ject if he dare. Oh ! Miss Sarah, you hab make me de happiest of color'd gentlemen ; to-night, I sail give a ball in honour of our 'preaching nutshells, and hope to hab de honour of your company. Sally. Oh! Massa Crow. [Exeunt, l. SCENE III.— Front Chamber. Enter Mts. Marigold and Blinfinsop, e, Mr$. M. This way, if you please, sir. I am from the old country myself, sir. Blin. Yes, and precious old you were before you left it. [Adde. Mrs. M. A gentleman of your appearance will suffer much from these here vulgarians, these Yankees ; I've been here some years, but I'm not manured to the country yet. Blin. You'll find me a very regular man, ma'am, rise at eight, swallow a broiled fowl, four muffins, and three or four cups of coffee ; that carries me through 'till lunch, and then a rump steak stays on my stomach till dinner. I make a fairish dinner, take my three bottles, that does till tea; have a devil'd FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 33 biscuit, and half a dozen broiled kidneys, for hyson'sbadon an empty stomach ; then a good hot supper at twelve, and that's all I require. Now, ma'am, I ( on't care whether I go to an hotel or a boarding-house. Mrs. M. Under all circumstances, sir, I think my hotel would suit you best ; he'd eat me out ot'iiouse and home in a month, if 1 boarded him. [Aside. Blin. Hotel be it ; moreover, ma'am' I've hired a valet de chambre ; now, I must put him into livery. Mrs. M. I've a livery, quite happery po, as the French say ; it belonged to a nice little fellow. B/i«.'^Little fellow, the man that belongs to me is a devilish big fellow. Mrs, M. Um, is he a coloured man ? Blin, Yes — no — if white's black, and black's no colour at all ; I suppose he is not ; he's a nigger. Mrs. M, Then it's no matter whatsomever, them fellows always puts on what's given em. You must be very partic- lar here, sir, for your vale de sham will think nothing of wear- ing your clothes during your abstinance. Blin. If he only wears them during that period, I'm con- ent. All your servants are coloured persons 1 presume. Mrs. M. Yes, sir, I am the only speciment of British beauty in the house, all the other females carry copper in their faces as we say. Blin. And you only carry brass in yours as I say. [Aside, Mrs.M. Beg pardon, for leaving you, sir, [crosses r.] but the poor creturs here have no taste ; no jenny squaw as we, who've been in Paris and Lunnon, have. Haw, re woir, moun- seer. [Exit r. Blin, No Jemmy squaws, hang it, I see nothing else but squaws ; that Miss Ellen Seagraves' abroad the packet; She's touch'd me at the thender part, my confounded susceptibility, I can't help it ; I do all I can to keep the women off; but, some how or other, 'pon ray soul, 1 can't tell how it is, but so it is and so it always was. Sally Snow withcut. Jumbo, laughing, come and say, ha ! ha! Will no ave me aye or way, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha ! Blin. Here's another. I shall do a devili>li deal of mischief amid the coloured population ; I shall regularly "astonish the browns," 34 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Enter Sally Snow, l crosses r. Blin. How d'ye do — how d'ye do — do you live here ? Sally, Iss — Iss, ha, ha, ha ! I am help. Blin. Help, you're a helpmate fit for any man ; you'e a sweet creature, here's my d d susceptibility again. [Buttons up his coat. Sally, Iss — Ha, ha, ha! you're a berry funny gemman. Blin. And you're a verry pretty brunette. (Aside.) Saints, forgive me, you're a sort of Irish fairy ; that is, what they call a brownie. Sally. You lub Englis lady, all white, Blin, Yes, like a turnip ; now, you're more of the artichoke sort ; really, when one comes to look, she's devilish pretty, a devilish pretty brown, and brown's a good standing colour ; I feel strongly inclined to a brown alliance; as Hamlet says, "to this complexion I must come at last.'' She won't do for daylight, but she's a very good wife for the evening, a sort of twilight woman, something between light and dark. Sally, Heigho! Blin, What's the matter ? there she stands ; beauty in a brown study. Sally, I am tink of oder times — make me melancholy. Blin, Melancho'y musing maid — my confounded suscep- tibility, I can't conquer it ; I'll pop the question — my burnt umbre beauty, could you love me 1 Sally. Lub you — me neber try. Blin. She's a sensible girl ; of course she can't know till she tries — but do you think you could ? Sally. Me neber tink about it. Blin. I see — it's your fashion to do these things without thinking. Sally. No sar, me lub coloured gentleman, and promise him my hand. Blin. Well, I only spoke. Bless you, I wouldn't interfere with your whitey-brown felicity for the world — trip along, little twilight. I don't know, but black, brown, and white, its all the same — I am so cursed susceptible. Duet. Air — "Savage Dance." Blin. Say my pretty brown-skinned beauty, Could you love and follow forth an Englishman ? Sally. Aye, and ever feel my dearest duty. Would be pleasing pleasing him whene'er I can. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 39 Blin, Follow follow now my footsteps merrily, You're the very maid and I'm the man. Sally, No, I follow not their footsteps merrily, I am not the maid nor you the man. Both. La, la, lara, lara, &c. Sally. I've a lover come from old Kentucky, Who would break his heart if I should prove untrue. Blin, Gad, if that's the case, its rather lucky, ■:^ You should feel that I am not the lad for yOu ; ' March my merry maid where love's inviting you; vStrike the tambourine and toss the can. Solly, Wander on where beauty's smile delighting you. Merry merry maid, and happy man. Both. La, lal, lara, &c. [Eieunt dancing, r. SCENE IV. — Coffee-room in New York ; bar seen ; tables, rocking chairs, spittoons ; men sitting at tables with heels on them, reading newspapers, smoking, i;c. SIajor Mohawk and Slap- UP in front. Slap. I don't mean to say nothing against New York^ Major, but I can't say as all your roads are smooth as billiard tables, nor your bildings as regular as a box of dominoes • now our London streets — Major. I calculate I know London Streets considerably well— and it's a fact as can't be denied, that people can't see one another there for the smoke, whereas every street here is a perfect glory under heaven. Slap. VVell, but Regent-street. Major. Wall-street. Slap. Oxford street. Major. The Five Points. Aye, aye, we'll convince you, if you'll only listen. [bell rings. All. Dinner, dinner [they scamper ofi pell-mell, c d. Slap. That's what they call starting for the plate. Enter 3\vi Crow, c d* Jim. (chuckling) I am hired, am gentleman now — got dirty dollars a month ; it will take two omnibtisses to carry m« now. Ha! ha ! 1 cut all de low fellows I used to be 'quaint with. Slap, Here you nigger. 36 FLIGHT T0:AMERICA. Jim. Who you call nigger ? {aside) dam white trash. Hab you \o know, sar, dat coloured gembletn as good as white man, and perhaps a little gooder too. Slap. I say, you boots. Jim. No, sar, I'm no boots; I'm retired — what um min- sters called resigned. Slap. Oh ! you've left your place, have you ! Jim. Iss, sar, duties too severe; injure my constitution. Now, sar, I'm companion to agemman. Slap, And uncommon fit for the office, I should think— seen a great deal in you time, Mr. Crow. Jim. Iss, sar, berry great deal. I was raised in Old Vir- ginny, and was reckoned the greatest beauty in dem parts; and hab gone through the world eber since, laughing at all misfortia, and content whatever come, l)ey call me Jim Crow, but my proper name is Mr. James Crow, sar. Now go to your dinner, or you'll hab to put it off till to-morrow. Song — Jim Croio. When I came to Lunnun city, 1 see gentleman quite dark, His name is Achilles, He lives in Hyde-park. Turn about and wheel about, And dojust so, Eb'ry time I wheel about, I jump Jim Ciow. In London all they wish for, Or any thing they dream. Be it marrying or burying, They do it all by steam. Turn about, &c. Over Lunnun city, Cupid holds eternal reign: It thrives in Love Court, As well as Huggin Lane. Turn about, &c. When wives take to scolding. And annoy the lordly sex, They sells 'em in Smithfield, With ropes round their necks. Turn about, &c. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 37 That a shrew should be sold so, I wonder not, not I ; But the thing surprise me most, Is that any one will buy. Turn about, &c. Respectables all keep a gig. But all the vulgar shabs. Drives about the Lunnuu streets In patent safety cabs. Turn about, &ic. Here comes the Old Virginny, And he want you all to know, Dat he wheel about And turn about, and jump Jim Crow. Turn about, &c. They make talk about philosophy. But to you rU clearly show, 'Tis all comprised in wheel about. And jump Jim Crow. Turn about, &c. "When a gentleman wants money, His purse is rather low. To get it how he'll wheel about And jump Jim Crow. Turn about, &c. There's a pretty lad> yonder. Sitting in the middle row. To get a husband how she'll wheel about. And jump Jim Crow. Turn about, &c. Next see the polititician, Out of place he'll never go. But to keep it how he'll wheel about. And jump Jim Crow. Turn about, &c. There's Massa Yates, the playhouse manager^ To bring people to his show O Golley, don't he wheel about, And jump Jim Crow, Turn about, &c. D 39 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. Since I'm getting rather tired, So I pray you let me go, I'll come again another night. And jump Jim Crow. Turn about, &c. Then the soldier in the battle. When pursued by the foe, Golley don't he wheel about. And jump Jim Crow, Turn about, &c, [ Exeunt, SCENE y,— Front Chamber. Eafcr Mrs, Marigold and Slapup, l. Slap. And so, ma'am, you see I've some thoughts of set- tling in New York — bringing over some prime prads, and teach the Yankees how to get over the ground. Mrs.M. You'll find 'em a natrocious set, sir — no hele- gance — no nothing ; I came here from Paris, and I declare at first 1 was quite putrified at the manners of the popelars. I have moved in a very different spear I assure you — in Paiis, I was one of the haul tun — in New York, I condescends to keep the One Tun. Salp. Dreadful change — a break down from a racer to a sand cart. {Juliette screams without.) Halloa ! Enter Juliette, l. in disorder. — {Sheis in female attire.) Jul, Was ever any thing so unfortunate, that the first mo- ment I ventured out, I should encounter that odious French' man. Mrs. M. Young woman, I thinks it is by no means proper that you should scream out in that raonstratious manner; and as to your protruding yourself here, its what I can't allow. Jul, Madam, I am sorry for any confusion I may have caused, but I was suddenly alarmed, and, ah ! — screams again.) Mrs. M. She's no better than she should be — properly de- ducted females never scream. [^oes up. Enter Pjrouette. Pir. Ah ! 'cest bien — I have got upon your heel at last. — Comment vous va, ma chere ami, you sail ron very well, mais I can ron to~ah ! Mademoisselle Juliette, for why you sail FLIGHT TO AMEIUCA. 3* tise me so, eh ? I teach you de danse — T teach you every ting in the world dat I know ; when you are all so clever as my- self, you ron away, Jul, I have already told you, M. Pirouette, my heart can- not be yours, and my hand, therefore, never shall. Pir. Dis is de reward for my show you all de entire chat — de a plomb — oh! c'est la le diable ; I sail cut my troat several times often ; I sail go very mad indeed. Mrs, M, has come cautiously f inward, and at tfiis moment Pir, Eh T [^ioes a loud scream. Slap, Don't ma'am ; properly deducted females never holloa. Pir. Is it possible — you are dere. Mrs. M. Antonie is — is that you? Pir. 'Tis de voice — you sail not be dead yet. Mrs. M. No — nor you? Oh! my dear busbapd. Alt. Husband ! Pir. Pesle — Madame Pirouette ave come again, Jul. Is that wretch your husband 1 Mrs. M. Marry, come up, he is my husband. Pir, You may mari come up, or what you please, mais you shall not ave me. Jul. How dare you, sir, make love to me. Slap. Aye, sir, how dare you make love to this lady. Mrs. M. Oh ! for shame, for shame Antoine. Pir. Taisez vous — I never hear any one I wish not to hear so very much, arrete vous — I sail not speak wis you. Mrs. M. Wont you own me after years of parting ! Pir. You shameful rascal wo mans— why you ron away— leave me wis de dam garcons vot I shall never know — eh 1 Vat you are now, eh ? Mrs. M, Widow Marigold. Pir. Veuve — c'est bon charmant Marigold. Mrs. M. But though I'm a Marigold, you will be a forget me- not Pit. I shall not have him ; ma fois diable ment, ugly fel- low, mais yen she vas ron hway she was beauty woman. Jul. I shall no* remain to part a lovely couple, or to wit- ness the tenderness of the reconciliation. {Crosses.) Adieu Mensieur Pirouette, I am very grateful for "your teach me the entre-chat ;" an I when your domestic arrangements are completed, you will, perhaps, tender me an apology. Adieu, Widow Marigold. Ha, ha, ha ! 40 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. ^lap. I say, ma'am, never holloa. {Exit Jul. and Slafup, n, Mrs. M. Oh, Antoine, don't be so obsteteric, don't. Pir, Oh, she's sot the grin. Mrs. M. Here 1 am, on my knees ; I have left off all my follies. Pir. Non, non, your follies ave leave vou off — now you ave got old. Mr<;. M. And you know you was a going to marry again yourself: but I'll forgive, if you do the same. Pir. Jamais, jamais, the honour of a French gentleman is concerned : 1 cannot forget it, nor you. Je n'onblerai jamais. Mrs. M. Never mind blear-eyed Janimy, or any one else, but forget and forgive ; I've a comfortable house and home. Pir. And you never go out to walk no more— comfortable — de maison and forniture — no little garcons; aha, Madame Pirouette, mon eoeur is never cruel — she is no longer beauty womans — c'est egal, perhaps she never ron away now. Mrs. M. Antoine. Pir. Dorothea. Mrs. M. My dear hubby. Pir. Ah ! ma chere femme— it is past — deres de grin. Exeunt together, r. SCENE VI.— J Boom. Hickory, Slapup, and Paws, discovered. Paws. A paction's a paction — you see I'm thirty years old now, I nat'rally reckon the balance of my lire at forty years more ; I'm no ways disagreable to your proposition, but I cal- culate living forty years w ith a woman I've never seen, is worth 100/. per annum, and sha'nt take n'o less. Hick. 4000/.; well, I consent. Pawks. Then there's her keep — I calculate that at 150/ a-year. Hick. Zounds, that makes 6000/. Pawks. Yes, 10,000/., and I must have it down on the nail ; 1 an't going to commit matrimony on credit. Hick. But there are other difficulties — in the first place, the girl will be adverse to the Hjatoh. Pitwks. Now, don't agonise about that; I'm the spryest chap in our parts; I can make love better, and faster, than any six chaps in eld Virginia. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 41 HicK. When she comes, do you see her alone ; say she isi once more in my power ; but offer generously to release her, for if she thought you were my choice, that alone would de- termine her against me. Pawks. 1 calculate if she does but see me, its enough ; however, I an't no ways objectionable to do as you say. Hick. You'll be deliu^hted — she's a fine grown girl I can tell you ; and fortunes like her's, are not to be sneezed at. Pawki, No ; 1 calculate if fortunes could be got by sneez- ing, there wouldn't be a chap in the 'Nited States, without a cold in his head. Hick. Well, then, if you'll {to Slapvp) step up with me^, I'll pui you in possession of the papers— and you will remaia here and receive the lady. [Exit Hickory and Slapup. Pawks. I realize that old chap, my uncle, is as big a rogue as ever 1 clapt eyes on : I wonder what the girl*s fortin's really worth ; my uncle's uncommon 'cute, but I've a tarna- tion mind to try if I can't roll up the pair on 'em, and carry off the girl without no advancement of money at all. Enter Negroes, bearing a sedan, l. Pawks. Oh, here she is, I reckon; put her down gently, and don't bump her — get out you niggers — I'll orationize her into loving me. I guess, Miss you'd be glad to get out. {Jim Crow, in female' s attire, opens sedan and rises A fine grown girl he calls her — she's tarnation tall — a poplar in petticoats ; I calculate 1 can never kiss her without a lad- der. You see, Miss, your guardian has you once again. Crow, {affects to weep) Pawks. Don't go to cry ; I'm very tender inwards myself, I shall weep a waterfall if I once begin. Crow. Heigho! Pawks. She is the longest acquaintance I ever had — I'll save you from old Hickory, and carry you slick away to Vir- ginia. I'm no palaverer — a spry fellow, as you see ; stand five feet four, cast iron sinews, and double jointed all over; can lick a bushel of bears, and don't valle copper heads or rattlesnakes no more than a flash of lightning does a rusty conductor. Crow. Heigho! Pawks. Here's old Hick, I spose ; pop back again for an instant ; I'll soon be rid of him, and then — (putting Crow back) remarkable tall surely, but a partiettlar fine womainy nevertheless. 42 FLIGHT TO AMEKlCA. Re-enter Slafvp. Slap. I say, young 'un. Pawks. Well. Slap. I'm an individual of nice feeling ; and for tins old fellow to cheat that poor girl of her fortin, is an atrocious shame. Pawks. (pointbig to sedan) Hush ! Slap. Oij, she is there, is she. Pawks. I calculate she is. Slap, {^peaking bw) Now the money had much better be in our pockets than his'n, PuwLs. Well, did 1 ever — now, who could imagine that — that's the very individual retrospection I've been a taking myself. Slap. Now, if you was only to — Pawks. Run slick away with her — I designate doing so n.ost unquestionable. Slap, Her father died worth 15,000/. C'ow. (peeping through top of sedan — aside) Aha! Slap. Which has been accumulating ever since — besides some land ; here I have all the papers concerning it. Croic. (aside) Rogue! Slap. When you marry her, all is yours ; and then, as an honorable man, I expect as you pay me the 10,000/ instead of old Hickory. Pawks. Yes — aye— I see. Hush, here's Hickory ; lets go to him, he must not see the girl — you keep him in play, and I'll pop her off. He's a tarnation rogue ; but I m a tamationer, and I realize that in any roguery, you'd lick the pair on us. I don't flatter, really— I take you to be the biggest rascal that ever I saw ; ware, don't take the papers with you, he mustn't have 'em any more. (Pawks puts papers in desk) I'll turn the key upon Miss — there you are, safe enough — I say ; they must wake early that's a match for ©Id Virginia, and London particular. lExeunt both, [Crow rises in sedan, puts his arm »ver, unlocks it, and gets out. Crow. Dere white rascal! what um say if dey catch nigger at such tricks. Where 'em paper, (goes to the desk) What dis — dam sugar box : I wish I had a tub of water to see my- self in. Ah ! here — (taking up the desk, with papers, from taUe)— now I get away-.-that little rascal, my boss, take me up as a runaway nigger. [ Blinksnp, without, intoxicated. BHh, It won't do, old one — I says she is here. FLIGHT TO AMERICA: 43 Enter]BhirfKSov, followed by Hickory, SLAPUP,fl7i(i Pa wks. Blink. Yes, sir — I demand, sir. Pawks. Leave me alone, (crosses to /u'm) Now you, sir, I'm a regular built, not to be denied, Virginia lad ; hard as a block o' marble ; fast as a flash of lightning ; sudden as an earthquake, and as certain as quarter-day. 1 calculate you don't know what gouging is ; now its done in a moment, I can tell ye ; I've entered on a contract of connubility, and the lady aint no'ways inclinated to the contrary and if you inter- fere with me, I'll smash you into so many atoms, that it'll about take eternity to pick up the pieces. Blin, You fight me! It'slike a sentry box pitching into St Paul's. I'll put ye into one end of a funnel and blow you out at toother. I'm a reglar built east ender, finished my education at Offley's and the Rainbow, have got two bottles of wine under my waistcoat, care for nobody — and I calculate, if [ hit you once. Green's balloon won't be able to fetch your wind 'back for you. Hick. Oh ! we'll put an end to this. Here, constables, watch, I say- Crow, (coming out of sedan) Knock 'em down, Massa Boss —down with 'em. Pawh, Holloa! why if my oracular eyes don't deceive me» that's my runaway nigger. You black varmint, I've got you once again, have I. Crow. No you habn't — here, Sambo — Bram — Charley, I say. Enter Negroes at one side, and Constable with Watchman on the other. Crow. Fight for cause of bobolition, Blin. Well said, snow-ball ; I haven't had a row for many a day, so if it is to be a skirmish, here goes, [General row between wacch, niggers, and party; they Jight off- — BUnkinsop knocks Slapup in sedan, and scene closes. SCENE Yll— Street, Night. Enter Blinkinsop, more intoxicated and dress disordered^ Blink. The rascals, I'll Yankee reglar 'em — come athwart me — me— a man of bulk and prowess — I let him know I hadn't been at the Fives Court for nothing. Ha, ha, ha! I can't help laughing at that little Virginia scamp — standing 4 1 FLIGHT TO AMERICA. up before me — 'pon my soul it was too absurd^ I begJn par- tiaily to suspect that I'm inebriated; Mr Benjamin Blinkin- sop, I've a word or two to say to you, if you are a gentleman behave as sich — you're in a strange country, sir — rerriembei that, and do nothing to disgn ce Great Britain— the honor ol of the nation rests on your shoulders, sir— they're broad enough to bear it, that's one comfort — I'm intoxicated, and if an\ gentleman presumes to say I'm not, he utters a falsity — I defj the world, the united conglomerated globe to prove the con- trary ; I'm intoxicated, and what then ? this is a land of lib< erty — its cursed hard if a man mayn't take a liberty with him- self, '• I won't go home till morning." Talking of home, where do 1 live — I've clean forgot — I kno'w I live some where — but where ? and echo answers where — (New York Watchman crosses behind) that's a Charley with a new fangled beaver. " Charley is my darling — my darling — my darling." He, he, he ! I used to wonder what they did with the old Charlies when our new police came — I see now — they sen 'em all to New York. Beg pardon, sir, can you tall m< where I live. Watch. No, I can't— hotel or boarding ? Blink. Hotel. Watch. And you've forgot the name, um? — is tliere nothing you can remember it by ? Blink. No, nothing — stay, yes — its where *' fol de rol, to deol, jump Jim Crow"' was boots. Watch. Oh, I know well enough — this way. Blink. Go on, I'll follow thee. Watch. I calculate you're swizzled. Blink. Something in the air — that effects the head, coon along my purveyor of Yankee peace. "We won't go home till the morning, Till day-light does appear." SCENE IX.— 'Boom laid out for ball; four musicians, l» Enter Pirouette, c d, with Jim Crow. Crow. Here you am — hab de beautiful ball — all the lub- bliest creturs in New York am invited, you play de fiddle, and I am a bery Paganun myself. Pir, I sail be grand director, and arrange every ting. Crow Iss, I am do the horrors — and you direct d« ball. L.ofC. FLIGHT TO AMERICA. 45 Pir. Je suis content — [Knock l. Enter Jok Carr.] Joe, Massa Jim Brown and Miss Sophonisba Snapps coming tip. [ Entej, Rrown and Miss Snapps.] Crow. 'Lighted to see you Mr. Brown— Miss Snaps you am charming. [Double Knock l. h.] Re-enter Joe. Joe. Mr. Charley Copperas and Miss Matilda Muggins coming up. [They '^riter.] Crow. How is this dat you am not brought Miss S^ow. Miss Mu