Class _ Book _ Copyright Is . *S^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. } m ^ AN ARABIAN NIGHT NINETEENTH CENTURY. A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS, FROM THE GERMAN OF VON MOSER. BY AUGUSTIN DALY. AS ACTED AT DALY'S THEATRE FOR THE FIRST TIME, NOVEMBER 29th, 1879. NEW YORK : PRINTED AS MANUSCRIPT ONLY, FOR THE AUTHOR. 1884. Copyright, 1879, By Augustin Daly. DRAMATIS PERSONS AND ORIGINAL CAST. ME. ALEXANDEE SPINKLE, retired broker and ex-Caliph; a devoted young husband, with a fatal passion for the Arabian Nights Mr. John Drew HEEBEET EUMBEENT, artist and enthusiast, whose pursuit of the ideal results in his successfully overtaking her, Mr. Harry Lacy UNCLE MA JOE, a dear old soul to confide in, Mr. William Davidge LAFAYETTE MOODLE, not such a fool as he looks for in the matrimonial market, Mr. George PaRkes "SIGNOE" HEECULES BEEEOWN, Premier Cannon Ball Tosser, and First Heavy Weight in Boom's Greatest Show on the Planet Mr. Charles Leclerq JOHN, Butler at Spinkle's, with a talent for nagging the old lady, Mr. Frank Bennett PETEE, Waiter at Mrs. Portley's Summer Hotel on the Boule- vard Mr. Hunting MES. LOUISE SPINKLE, a model wife, i. e., she Believes everything He tells Her, Miss Margaret Lanner MISS KATE SPINKLE, an American girl brought up abroad, and astonished at the ways at home, .... Miss Ada Eehan MES. WEEBLES, who being Mr. Spinkle's Mother-in-Law, is not partial to his Eomance, Mrs. Charles Poole EOSA MAYBLOOM, a young lady transformed by the Genii of Haroun al Easchid into what she is not; — but always captivating Whatever she is. With a fleeting vision of the "Corsair's Bride," and a brief revelation of the "Great Indian Act," Miss Catherine Lewis MES. POETLEY, Keeper of a Summer Hotel on the Boule- vard, Miss Sydney Nelson SUSAN, Chambermaid at Spinkle's, Miss Georgine Flagg INCIDENTAL To the First Act. — Haroun al Easchid, in the privacy of home, reveals an adventure not to be found in the Arabian Nights. He's in for it, and in trying to get out opens up a series of hairbreadth escapes of the most thrilling cbaracter. The Wild Kose of Yucatan is transformed, and the Caliph escapes for one night. To the Second Act. — The Caliph is down on his luck, and Mrs. Spinkle undertake? to have an adventure of her own. The American Girl from abroad undertakes straightening affairs. Mrs. Weebles undertakes matchmaking attempts on the Transformed Beauty, and Lafayette undertakes to assist. Great success of every undertaking except that of Keeping a Secret. To the Third Act. — The consequences of the Caliph's nocturnal adven- ture become more appalling. The stony-hearted Sultan sacrifices his Xiece to save himself. The opportune arrival of the Cannon Ball Tos- ser brings a ray of light. The spell is removed and Eosa becomes for the moment, "The Wild Eose of Yucatan; or, the Modoc Girl Pursued, and the Corsair's Bride." (But — for further particulars — see the play.) Grand Departure of the Beautiful Stranger and her faithful Cavalier, and disastrous overturn of Moodle. To the Fourth Act. — The Cup of Hope is found to be cracked, and the bright anticipations dribble out. Haroun al Easchid is nailed by his Mother-in-Law, who reigns over Bagdad and the Boulevard for a quar- ter of an hour. Eosa keeps her promise, however, and saving every- body, leads to a conclusion of Universal Happiness. The entire action transpires within a day and a half. The first, second and fourth acts pass in Spinkle's house on the Western Boulevard. The action of the third act occurs in Mrs. Portley's Summer Hotel, opposite. ACT I. Scene. — Spinkle's house. Parlors. Doors c, also r. and l. ; win- dow, l. e. ; fireplace, r. e. Elegantly furnished through- out. Music. Susan discovered dusting vigorously. John enters with newspaper. John. Mr. Spinkle isn't up yet ? Susan. [Snappish.] I don't know. John, [l., looking over papers.'] What's the matter with you ? Susan. I shan't stand their nonsense in this house much longer. John. Has the old woman been at you again ? Susan. [Pert, ill-natured.'] Yes ; from morning till night, she keeps me a-dusting when there ain't a speck of dust to be found with a microscope, let alone with her old specs. Young Missis was a lady, and let a servant do her own work her own way, but Mrs. Weebles watches and pounces on a poor girl like a cat on a mouse. John. Same with me. She keeps me everlastingly on the go. It's " John run to the post," or " John run to the drug store," or " John run to the dressmaker's." It's run, run, run, as if I was a young greyhound. Oh, she's a-going it, while her daughter is away. Susan. [Advancing.] How master puts up with her, I don't know. John. He suffers as much as we do. That's some comfort. She puts him through his paces like a colt. [Bell.] Who's that, I wonder ? \_Bell.] I bet it's the old tormentor now ! Susan. [ Crossing to L., dusting.] I ain't afraid of her. Let her ring. John. She evidently daren't discharge us, or she'd have done it long ago; so we can worry her as much as we like. I love to put her in a passion. It's the only luxury my exhausted system can enjoy. I find she abominates whistling, so I generally give her a concert. Susan. [Dusting.] Here she is. John, [r] Is she ? [Begins to whistle, as he arranges news- papers on table.] 6 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. Weebles enters, r. u. e. Mrs. Weebles. [Brusquely.'] Have you lost your ears ? Didn't you hear me ring, Susan ? Susan. Bing, rua'ani ? Lor'! was it you? Mrs. W. [a, to John.'] Stop that whistling, sir ! How dare you whistle in my presence ? John, [b., turns.'] It was only the "Turkish Bevelee," ma'am. Mrs. W. Don't let me hear it again. John. [Going up.] No, ma'am. It is getting rather played out, as they say. Mrs. W. [Aside .] Impudent monkey ! If I dared to dis- charge him in Louise's absence! [To Susan.] Susan, come with me directly. I want you. [Exits, R. u. d.] Susan. Yes, ma'am. [Exchanges smiles with John, and follows Mrs. W., R. u. d.] John. [Whistles very loudly.] That's a parting salute. I'll serenade her every time I pass her door. I'll teach her to wear a poor devil out ! [Goes to door, l., knocks and listens.] Spinkle. [l. d., inside.] Be there directly. John. [Stands aside.] He's up. Spenkle enters, L. u. d., crosses to R. ; carefully dressed. Spinkle. Well, John, what is it? [Coming to c] John. I've put your newspapers on the table as usual, sir. [Mysteriously.] But not your letters. Sp. [Stage, r.] Well — and why not the letters as usual ? John. Because, sir — yesterday — entering the room unawares, — I perceived your mother-in-law examining the correspondence very closely — putting on her specs to look at the postmarks and the handwriting. [Takes letters from his pocket.] Sp. [Snatches letters.] That's a pretty cool proceeding. [ Crosses to L.] John. I knew you'd think so, when I told you about it. Sp. [Sits back of table.] I refer to your officiousness, you donkey. John. [l. c, hurt.] Donkeys can be dumb, sir. They have ears, but they havn't any tongues. P'raps it was as well I was a donkey yesterday, when old Missis asked where I went on that errand for you. Sp. [Struck.] Did she ? [Feels his pocket] There are some things it is not essential for everybody to know, John. John. Just what I told her, sir, and she chased me out of the room. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. / Sp. I don't wonder. [Rises, gives coin.'] Here — you remem- ber, I once told you that speech was silver — John. And silence was gold. [Looks at money.] So it is, sir. [Puts it in his pocket] Sp. You can go. [ Opens letters, crossing to R.] John. That one has been lying in the post office a fortnight, sir ; seems to have been misdirected — was a long time getting to you, sir. Sp. [Looks at envelope.] So it was ! A letter from abroad, too ! And from my brother! [Begins to read.] Uncle Major enters, c. l., comes down l. John takes his hat and cane and exits, r. d. Uncle. Ah ! there you are. Came to take breakfast and cheer you up in your solitude. [Shake hands.] Sp. [Heading, not looking up.] Glad to see you, uncle. Unc. Something important? Sp. From brother Ned in Marseilles ; you remember, he is in charge of the railway construction there. Unc. All well I hope ? Sp. [Surprised on reading.] He's coming home! and has sent Kate — you know little Kate — his daughter, my niece, and your grand-niece— he is sending her on before him! By Jove! This letter has been detained two weeks. She's due now! Unc. Sent her over before him ? Sp. He had to ; it's all explained here — broke up house-keep- ing, took his passage, shipped his goods, and was kept back him- self at the last moment for an indefinite period. [Gives Uncle the letter, who puts on spectacles and reads.] Unc. So, so! [Gets R.] Sp. [Crossing to l., going up to c] Where are the papers — if the steamer should be in! [Turns them inside out hurriedly.] Unc. [Beads.] " Kate is a real treasure ! An American girl with no French improvements; a little independent, like me, and very romantic, like you, my dear old fellow." Sp. [Comes down to l.] I don't see the name. I must in- quire at the office. Unc. [Folding letter.] What a surprise for your wife, when she comes home! A great, big niece! She'll be the joy of the house. . Sp. I don't know. My mother-in-law is yet to be heard from. [Shrinking from him.] Unc. [Quizzically.] I say, how do you get on with her? Sp. As if I were living under the supervision of the police. 8 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Une. Pooh ! A fig for her supervision ! You've nothing to conceal. Sp. [Looks at him meditatively.'] Havn't I? [Sighs.] line. What's the matter ? Sp. Do you care to have my confidence? Une. If it's " no confidence — no breakfast," fire away ; but you know how I hate other people's secrets. [Sits l. of c. table.] Sp. [Sits r. of c. table.] I may need your assistance. Une. Come to the point. Sp. You know I went to San Francisco on business two months ago. That was the beginning of the trouble. Une. But you took your wife with you. Sp. Yes, but I had to leave without her, and come back alone. She stayed behind with her sister who was sick. Well — [Pause.] Une. Well? Sp. [Drawing closer.] Uncle, you have known me a great number of years. Une. Ever since you were born, and that is — let me see — Sp. Never mind the precise date. But you recollect that, left, at an early age, my own master with a handsome fortune, I was always of a romantic and visionary nature. Going about, seeking adventure — Une. Particularly at night. Sp. Doing good ! [Impressively.] Une. I hope so. Sp. I took as my model my old boyish delight, the wonderful hero of the Arabian Nights — the dear old Sultan Haroun al Raschid. Like him, it was my fancy to go about silently studying people and their purposes, secretly rescuing the unfortunate when I found them, and rewarding the honest, and quietly enjoying the blessings they showered on their unknown benefactor. Une. A very sensible, practical, and economical amusement for a New Yorker in the latter half of the nineteenth century, I must say. Ha ! Ha ! Sp. Laugh at me ; I deserve it. When I married, I gave up all such nonsense, of course. Une. Of course. Sp. A lovely, devoted wife is worth all the fairies of the Arabian Nights rolled into one. [Half aside.] Une. Louise is a charming creature. Sp. [Turning to him.] And yet, separated from her, as I was recently, the old romantic passion returned. Une. Passion for whom? Sp. [Impatie?it.] For whom? For Haroun al Easchid! The Arabian Nights! For adventure, you know! . AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 9 Une. You mean you began your nocturnal prowling again. Sp. Listen. On the way home from San Francisco, our train stopped at a remote Western station. Amid the motley group on the platform stood a young creature, who seemed to be known, yet friendless. A tear stood in her eye. Une. \_Quizzing.~\ Excuse me! Wait till I get out my pocket-handkerchief. [Takes it out~\ Sp. [Reprovingly. ~] Now, uncle, this is a serious matter. [Takes handkerchief and replaces it in Unc.'s pocket.] I walked through the throng of staring idiots, straight up to the young girl and proffered my services. I found she was left at this place by a troupe of traveling performers, who had had a bad season and were obliged to beg their way east. This little thing was too haughty to beg. I bought her ticket, and seated her in the car. Une. No harm in that. Sp. [ Very impressively. ~] There is no harm in anything con- cerned with the matter. Une. Then what's your trouble ? Sp. My dear uncle, they say that gratitude is a rare ^virtue. It's as well that it is, for a more inconvenient thing I don't know. Une. You mean that you can't get rid of her now ? Sp. Vulgarly speaking, that is the difficulty ; she calls me the noblest of created beings — her generous preserver — her only real friend. Une. You go and see her occasionally, then ? Sp. I've got to go and see her. If I did not, she might pos- sibly come and see me. Une. Why not explain the situation to her ? Sp. To a nature so artless and unsophisticated as hers, it is impossible to explain the conventionalities of social life. Besides, she vows that if I cast her off, she will seek the cold oblivion of the grave and leave a letter behind, explaining my heartless cruelty to a sympathizing world. Une. My son, this young creature with the tear in her eye is older than she looks. What do you intend to do with her ? Or, rather, what do you imagine she intends to do with you ? Does she know your name ? Sp. Of course not. When she asked me my name, in order that she might engrave it on her heart and remember it in her prayers, I told her to call me Haroun al Raschid. tine. What did she say to that ? . Sp. She laughed. Une. Well, the thing can't go on forever. Sp. I had hopes of her getting an engagement somewhere out of town. 10 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Unc. An engagement ? Sp. Yes ; you recollect I told you she belonged to a traveling company of show people. Unc. Ah ! Is she low comedy or high tragedy ? Sp. [Bises, comes down.'] Well, hardly. The fact is — she's a bare-back rider. Unc. [Rises, bursts out laughing.~\ Delicious ! Magnificent ! Circus, eh ? Houp la ! I say, this is a nice affair you've got into! Sp. And yet, I assure you, she is the gentlest, prettiest, most modest, lady-like and refined — Unc. Bare-back rider. John enters, r. it. d. John. Mrs. Weebles sends to know if you'll go and look at carpets with her to-day, sir. Sp. [Aside.] Oh, the devil ! [A loud.] Say I shall be most happy. [John exits, r. u. d. To Unc] It's the sixth time we've spent the afternoon in the carpet stores, trying to make up her mind about a new bedroom Brussels. [Crosses to R.] Unc. [Gets his hat.] I wish you joy. If she's at home, I won't stay to breakfast. Sp. [Detains him.] But in regard to the other matter, you must help me to dispose of this young person. Unc. What's her name, by the way ? Sp. Rosie — sweet name, eh? She's called on the bills the "Wild Rose of Yucatan." Unc. I say, you've verified the old proverb — no rose without a thorn, eh ? Sp. Will you help me ? Unc. I'll think it over. Be at the club to-night at nine. We'll talk about it. Sp. I mean to make an end of it, before my wife returns. You must see the girl — invent anything — tell her I've failed in business, or gone into a decline, or had an important call to Behring's Straits — anything to induce her to transfer her affec- tionate gratitude to a more appreciative person. [Sees him to door.] Say you will. Unc. [Going up, turns to Sp.] I'll make up a plan. I say, let me tell the story in confidence to a few friends. Eh ? No ? It would be a grand success. Houp la ! [Exits, c. l.] Sp. [r. c] Thank goodness, my wife's mother hasn't the faintest clue yet. She has suspicions, owing to the mystery of movement and the precaution I'm compelled to adopt, but, as yet, she has not scented the Wild Rose. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 11 Mrs. Weebles enters, r. u. d., with a letter. Mrs. Weebles. Good morning, Mr. Spinkle ! [He salutes her brow with dutiful respect.'] Your little wife writes that she will stop over at Chicago a few days. Sp. [Assumed disappointment.'] A few days! [Aside, pleased.] Good ! Mrs. W. [r.] Fond boy ! You wish she were coming this very morning. Sp. [Absently, quickly, l.] Oh, no. Mrs W. [Severely.] No! I thought you missed her very much, Mr. Spinkle ! Sp. [ Quickly.] Oh, yes — I do miss her — in one sense, but in another sense you have made me so comfortable — made our home so charming — [Putting his hands on her shoulders.] Mrs. W. [Searchingly.] I was afraid not — you are so seldom in it. Sp. Business, you know. Mrs. W. You retired twelve months ago. Sp. Precisely — and I am still settling up. Mrs. W. That's all very well as far as the daytime is con- cerned, but your evenings are spent at the club. Sp. A perfectly harmless place. Mrs. W. At least you might be regular at dinner. I waited for you last night till eight. Sp. How often have I told you never to wait for me? Mrs. W. How was the opera last night ? Sp. [Absently.] Eh? Mrs. W. You said in the morning that you had been invited to the opera and would probably go. Sp. Oh, yes! It was charming! Mrs. W. Did you see the whole of it? Sp. I wouldn't lose a note. [Hums.] Mrs. W. And yet Lafayette says he saw you in a candy store at 9 o'clock buying chocolate caramels. Sp. [Aside.] For the Wild Rose of Yucatan! I'll choke Lafayette when I meet him! [Aloud.] You see, when I listen to music I always get dry in the throat. Mrs. W. But you don't sing ? Sp. No, but it makes me nervous to listen to others. Mrs. W. Take my advice, Mr. Spinkle, stay at home, that will cure your nerves. [Stage R.] Sp. I will, as soon as my wife gets back. Mrs. W. Ah, then you do miss her very much? Sp. [Ardently.] Very much. 12 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. W. [Tartly."] Notwith standing all my efforts to make you comfortable. Thank you, Mr. Spinkle! Sp. [Irritated.] What in the name of goodness will satisfy you? When I said I didn't miss her, you froze with maternal indignation, and now when I say I do miss her, you boil over with offended vanity. Have it your own way. I'm done ! [Sits and begins to read newspaper, l. of c. table.] Mrs. W. There's no necessity for a display of temper, Mr. Spinkle. [Aside.] It's impossible to say ten words to that man without his flying in a passion. [Sits r. of table and takes newspaper; he turns his back on her, she ditto.] Sp. [Aside.] It's intolerable. She treats me as if I were her own husband. Mrs. W. [Aside.] When he wanted to marry my daughter, he was sweet enough. Now he's a perfect tiger. That's the way with all of them ! Lafayette enters, c. l., with light Derby hat and gay umbrella. Lafayette. Good morning, aunt. Good morning, Spink, old boy! [Puts umbrella on front end of piano.] Sp. [Shortly.] Morning. [.Asttfe.] That's another individ- ual I married with my wife. Mrs. W. [Sweetly J\ Good morning, Lafayette ! I'm so glad you've called. Laf. [e. c, to Sp.] We had a capital time at the club after you left. [To 3Irs. W.] He comes there so seldom, too. We miss him. Sp. [Nervously, coughing.] Ahem ! Mrs. W. [Looks up, inquiring.] He goes there so seldom ? Sp. [Aside, to Laf] Shut up. [Aloud.] You'll excuse me. I have particular business to attend to. [Starts up.] Laf [a] Don't you go, Cousin Spink ! I've got an import- ant communication to make this morning. I want your help. Personal and confidential. Do sit down. [Sp. sits.] I'm about to get married. Mrs. W. [Startled.] My dear Lafayette — Sp. I wish you joy. Now you'll know how it is yourself. Mrs. W. But you never told me a word about it. Laf. Well, I didn't know it myself till this morning. Mrs. W. You proposed at daybreak? Laf Proposed? Why, I havn't met her yet. Sp. [ Aside, engaged in newspaper.] Idiot ! Laf. I heard of her on my way down town. She's a Califor- nia belle, worth $40,000 a year, travelling east with an aunt; AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 13 young, pretty, orphan, none of those abominable fathers-in-law and mothers-in-law. Sp. [Heartily — turns towards him and shakes his hand."] My dear fellow, I congratulate you. [ All rise. Sp. throws paper on l. table.] Mrs. W. Lafayette, what do you mean by your allusions to abominable mothers-in-law ? Laf. [Aside.] Oh Lord ! [Aloud.] My dear aunt, when I look about me and see how few mothers-in-law there are like you, I think it is a matter of congratulation if a fellow has a pros- pect of none. [ Crosses to r. Presses her to residue her seat] Sp. [To Mrs. W.] Ingenious way he has of extricating him- self. [Mrs. W. tosses head.] Laf. [r.] I've got a capital chance of an introduction. She'll be at the Potlucker's " At Home," this evening. You've got cards. I want you to go and get in with the aunt — talk me up, and, at the proper moment — Mrs. W. [Decidedly.] Ask Mr. Spinkle ! [ Crosses to r.] Sp. [Back of table, l.] I should be of no earthly use. Laf. [a] But I want you both to come. Now, my dear aunt — do oblige me — my whole future, you know — everything at stake ! Mrs. W. If Mr. Spinkle consents to escort me. Sp. To-night? Laf Yes, do consent — that's a lamb. Sp. No — you see— the fact is — Mrs. W. [Shrilly and decidedly.] I'm sure I seldom ask a favor — and, as for going out, I don't know when I've put my foot outside that door. The mother of your wife, of course, has no right to expect any courtesy or consideration from her daughter's husband, but if — Sp. [Starting up and closing his ears, going to back of writing table.] I'll go! I'll go! I'll go! Say no more! Mrs. W. [ Graciously, smiling on Laf] I'll drive to my dress- maker's directly. I know she can fix up my black velvet in half a day ; it will do very well with the damask waist. I will go at once. May you be happy, my dear Lafayette ; may fortune favor your suit ! I'll go directly ! [Exits quickly, r. u. e.] Laf. [ Winks and smiles at Sp.] He ! He ! Sp. [l., rises.] I'm exceedingly obliged for the pleasant even- ing you've arranged for me. Laf. [r., shakes hands.] Don't mention it. Sp. I'll do as much for you. You shall spend the day hunt- ing carpets with her. Laf To-day ? Impossible ! 14 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Sp. Then it's impossible for me to go to the Potlucker's to- night. If I give you my evening, I must have my forenoon. Take your choice. Laf. [Sighs.] Well, if I must, I must. [Resolute.] I'll rush her through the carpets. Sp. [Stage, r.] You'll have a delightful time — she's so amus- ing. Laf. [Dubiously. 1 Ye — es. [They go towards door, r.] Sp. You must persuade her that you insisted upon taking my place. Laf. I'm in your power. Sp. Exactly, and when you are married, you can take it out of somebody else. [Exeunt, r. u. d.] John enters, c. l., showing in Rosie. John. I'll see if the gentleman of the house is at home. Rosie. [l. h.] You needn't. I know he is. Tell him a lady wishes to see him. John. What name, please ? Ros. Merely say that a lady has called to see Sultan Haroun al Raschid. [Crosses to r.] John. [Amazed.] Haroun al Raschid? Ros. [Sharply.] Did you hear me ? John. Yes, ma'am. Please step in here. [ Opens l. d.] Ros. [Puts parasol on c. table.] Don't keep me waiting. Beware! [Exits l. d.] Spinkle re-enters, R. u. D. Spinhle. Free for the day. Victoria ! John. Ahem ! [Points to l. door, winks and nods mysteriously^ Sp. Well, you idiot ! What's the matter ? John. Lady in there. Sp. A lady? Who? John. [Mysteriously^] Haroun al Raschid. Sp. [Sits suddenly in chair, dropping his left hand on piano keys.] What? John. That's the name she gave me. I put her in there for fear Mrs. Weebles — [ Winks and nods.] Sp. [Rises, indignant air.] You rascal ! What do you mean ? [Drops r. hand.] John. [Politely.] Nothing, sir. Sp. Get out, you lunatic! The person is very likely a mil- liner, or something of that sort, come to collect a bill. [ Crosses to l. Music] AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 15 John. Very likely, sir. The name did have a foreign sound. Sp. That will do. [John exits stiffly, c] It can't be. She doesn't know my name, nor my address. Of course, she could find out both, but why ? [ Goes to l. u. e. door, opens it and staggers baek.~\ It is she ! Rosie enters, l. d.. Rosie. Yes, it is she. You dear, darling, old caliph ! [Rush- ing to him.'] What ? No greeting ? No welcome ? Arn't you glad to see me ? [Music stops.] Sp. [Looking round nervously.] How did you find the place ? What brought you — Ros. Are these my thanks for seeking you ? I thought you'd be delighted at such an evidence of my gratitude. What a beau- tiful house you've got! [Crosses to R.] What lovely furniture! [Sits on sofa, r.] Oh, heavenly ! Sp. [Aside.] She's taking a seat. What shall I do? Ros. How well this would look from the front ! [ Crosses.] Sp. My dear Miss Rose, I am sorry to disturb you, but this won't do. Ros. What won't do? Sp. Your presence here. Ros. Eh? Sp. How did you discover my name? Ros. The name of my benefactor, the only friend I have in this great, big city — I learned it for the sake of having it graven on my heart. [Rises, takes his arm.] You called yourself Haroun al Raschid, [Laughs] but I know he only exists in the story books. Sp. [ Aside.] Ah ! She has read the Arabian Nights, too. Ros. [Laughs.] I followed you and saw you come in here. [ Crosses to r.] I asked a party at the corner who lived in the house with the big garden, and he said " Mr. Spinkle." Sp. I am both surprised and hurt. Ros. Oh, don't be afraid. [ Crosses to L., turns archly to him.] I know you're married. Sp. [Sits suddenly, r. of table.] You know it ? Ros. Yes. Your wife's travelling out West. She won't be home for a day or two, or an hour or two at least ; so we'll have time for a quiet chat. [Jumps up.] Oh, there's a piano ! What shall I sing you ? [Strikes a few chords.] Sp. [ Who has gone r. to listen at door, darts forward and closes fiano, sits on lid and places his back against it] Are you mad ? Recovering.] The piano's out of tune — my head aches — I don't feel like music. 16 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Bos. [e,.] What a funny man you are. You act as if you wished me in Halifax ! It's not so long ago that you called me a poor fluttered dove [Sp. makes a grimace and tears his hair, glancing timidly at door, u. p., all through the scene.'] and vowed to be my friend for ever and aye. I didn't understand it, but it sounded fair. Sp. [l., aside.] My d — d, nonsensical, romantic rubbish ! I wish I'd been shot — Bos. But it seems that your "ever and aye" means about three weeks and a half. That's how long your amiability, good- ness, generosity and friendship has lasted. Now, you begin to sheer off. [Sulkily.] Sp. Sheer off! Bos. [Wa.rmly.] But my gratitude and affection are proof against neglect. I have no right to feel offended. Spurn me, if you will ! I must be grateful to you still — " for ever and aye." [ Taking his hand and dropping her head on his shoulder.] Sp. My child, this is all very noble, but out of place — in this place. It would be appropriate in any other premises. But here I have but one thought, and that is — how soon I can get you to leave. [ Urging her away.] Bos. What are you afraid of — your wife won't come. Sp. But my mother-in-law will. She's in the house now. Bos. [Bising.] Why didn't you say so at once ? [ Crosses to L.] I wouldn't get you into a scrape for the world. Mrs. Weebles. [Outside.] Susan! Sp. [Listening.] There she is now ! Bos. [Bounding.] Good gracious ! Where's my parasol ? Sp. Quick ! Bos. I can't find it. [Bushes to door, u. u. e.] Sp. Not there ! Bos. Where? Sp. She's here ! Bos. Ah ! [Darts into room, l. h.] Lafayette enters, p. u. e. Sp. [Not perceiving who it is.] Good gracious ! Lafayette. Oh, you've not gone yet. I'm glad of it. I've got a favor to ask of you. You see I've got to trot the old lady about all day, and so I lose an opportunity of making a couple of hun- dred in Wall street. If you would oblige me with — say half that — Sp. [ Goes to l.] I'll draw you a check. Laf. [Follows him.] You're ever so good. I'll go with you. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 17 Sp. If you don't stay where you are, I won't bring it. [ Go- ing L.] Laf. Oh, no, I'll go with you. Sp. [Shoving him away.'] Stay where you are. I'll bring it. [Exits, L. D.] Laf. He seems to be in a very generous mood. I ought to have asked him for five hundred. It's just my luck. But a hundred will carry me through a week's campaign with the Cali- fornia belle. Opera twice — races once — drives three afternoons. I can manage, with economy, on a hundred. At the end of the week I may have prospects to offer as collateral for another raise, [a] Spinkle re-enters with check. Spinhle. Here you are. [l.] Laf. That makes a little over a thousand I owe you — not so bad for two years. Sp. Extremely moderate. [Crosses to r. corner. ,] Laf. When I'm married I'll liquidate it all at once. Good- bye, old boy. [Takes Rose's parasol from c. table.'] I'll be back in ten minutes to take my dear old aunty off for a stroll among the Brussels and Axminsters. Bye-bye. [Exits, c. l.] Sp. Now, to get the Wild Rose of Yucatan out before the dragon has finished her toilette. [Going towards l. d., times it so as to get halfway as Mrs. W. enters.] Mrs. Weebles enters, r. u. d., in walking costume, buttoning her gloves. Mrs. Weebles. Is Lafayette gone ? Sp. [Meeting her and bringing her c] He'll be back in ten minutes. Mrs. W. [Passing round to l. of Sp.] Then we have time to discuss his prospects. Sp. Oh, yes. [J_m?e.] I feel very much like discussing his prospects ! [ Gently urging her across to r.] Mrs. W. [r.] Lafayette is a good fellow — a little wanting in balance, of course, and almost at the end of his resources. Sp. [Buttoning his coat.] Altogether at the end of his re- sources. [Crosses to R.] Mrs. W. We must help him to a wife. Sp. [Nervously glancing at door, l.] You are right — quite right — but, I say, you are not going out in this dress ? Mrs. W. Why not? 18 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Sp. My dear mother, you will catch your death of cold. The weather has changed. Go and put on something else, there's a dear. Mrs. W. This is my warmest dress. Sp. Is it? That's the difficulty. You run about — you get overheated in the shops — you come out and get chilled through. Put on something thinner. Mrs. W. Then I should freeze. What are you thinking of? [Crosses, e.] Sp. [ Aside.] How to get you back into your room ! [ Whis- tling outside, " Fatinitza."] Mrs. W. [Crossing,!,.'] Who's that whistling ? Sp. [Aside.'] The Wild Rose. [Aloud.] It must be John. Mrs. W. Servants whistling through the house ! You must stop it. Wait, let me go. Sp. [Detains her, gets L.] Leave him to me — you are too mild with him. I will simply throw him out of the window. That will be equivalent to a discharge. Mrs. W. [e.] Whistling in a respectable house ! I warned him once this morning, but he don't mind me. Sp. I'll teach him to pay you proper respect. Now, my dear mamma, do let me persuade you to change your dress. Mrs. W. I might put on my Organdie with the purple flower. Sp. [Looking over his shoulder, to l.] The very thing, put on the purple with the Organdie flower. Mrs. W. I really need a new dress — I havn't actually got a rag fit to wear. Sp. Why not get what you want while you are out to-day? [ With feeling.] The mother of my wife must want for nothing. Mrs W. [Eising.] Oh, Alexander, if you were always as kind and considerate as this! Sp. Don't mention it. Mrs. W. I'll go at once and change my dress. Sp. Do, and don't hurry. [Accompanies her to door.] Mrs. W. You are a dear darling ! If I had Louise to give over again, you should have her. [Exits, e. tj. d.] Sp. Costly but effective strategy ! Now, then — [ Goes to L. and opens door, calls softly.] Miss Rose! [Timidly peeps after Mrs. W., ft. d.] Rosie enters, l., yawning, with a booh in her hand. Rosie. This is a jolly book. Why can't I finish it now I've begun it ? Sp. [Coming down, c] Take it with you. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 19 Bos. [Pouts.] But I want to stay there — curled up in that big chair. [Indicates room, l.] Sp. [l.] If you lose this opportunity of getting away, you'll have to stay curled up all night. Bos. Oh, I'll go right off. [Crosses L., goes about looking for parasol. He follows nervously.'] Where did I leave my para- sol? [l.] Sp. I'll get you another. Bos. Mine had a splendid gold handle. Sp. I'll get you another splendid gold handle. Bos. [l.] With my name engraved on it ? Sp. [ Getting r.] Come this way. I'll have your name set in diamonds. Do go. Bos. [l., still searching.] It's miraculous for a parasol to go off like that. Mrs. Weebles enters, r. tj. e., down r. Mrs. Weebles. Susan's gone out, and there's nobody to get out my dress. [She and Ros. perceive each other, and stand down, r. and l., speechless. Sp., c, turns, sees them, makes a step forward and stops. Tableau. Mrs. W. to Bos.] Whom have I the honor to — [Ros. looks towards Sp.] Sp. [ Comes down.] Oh, yes — [After a moment's reflection, nervously trying to make up an explanation.] Didn't I tell you ? [To Mrs. W.] Mrs. W. Tell me what? Sp. No — I did not. I remember now, it was so unexpected — so sudden ! [I eels in his coat-tail pockets for his handkerchief.] But that's what always occurs — the unforseen. [I eels in breast- pocket and touches his brother's letter — a gleam lights up his coun- tenance.] Mrs. W. Why, Alexander, what is the matter with you? But you don't introduce the young person. Sp. [Draws out the letter, looks at it and smiles.] My dear Mrs. Weebles, you'll be astonished and delighted when I present to you — [Takes Bos.'s hand and leads her to Mrs. W.] My niece, from Marseilles. Mrs. W. [Ros. curtseys demurely.] Your niece from Mar- seilles ! Sp. Be good enough to read. [Hands her the letter. She puts up her glasses.] Bos. [ Crosses c, aside to Sp., as she passes.] Haroun al Raschid, what are you doing? Sp. [Aside.] It's my mother-in-law. Do as I say, or I am lost. 20 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Ros. I understand. Don't be afraid, I'll get you out of it. Mrs. W. [Looking up.] And you have just arrived this morning ? Bos. [Curtseys.'] No, ma'am — yesterday. Mrs. W. Why did you not come to us immediately, my child ? Bos. Oh, I was afraid of putting you to inconvenience. I went directly to a hotel. Sp. [Aside.] What nonsense! [To Mrs. W.] And only think, she declares she has now only run in to make us a brief call and must be off directly. Didn't you say so, my dear ? [ Aside.] I've forgotten the name. [ Crosses to l.] Mrs. W. [Looks at letter.] Kate ! Your name is Kate ! Sp. So it is! Kate, Catherine, Kitty. [Pointedly to Bos.] Only daughter of my brother Edward, the eminent engineer, who is shortly to follow her. [Ros. checks off each item of infor- mation quietly by a nod of the head.] Bos. [Half laughing.] Thanks for your kind reception, my dear uncle. I must be going at once. [ Going up, Sp. urging her off.] Mrs. W. [Detaining her.] You shall not stir, my dear child. You must stay and have a chat with me ; we must be better acquainted. Sp. She can come to-morrow. [ Urging Bos. off.] Mrs. W. To-morrow ! Nonsense ! She must be tired, coming all the way up here. [Bings the bell, R.] It's strange you never told me to expect her. [To Sp.] Sp. I only received the letter this morning. Ask John. John enters, c. Mrs. W. Breakfast directly ! [John exits, c] Will you have coffee or chocolate? or perhaps you'd prefer a glass of wine. Ros. M — yes. I'll take a glass of wine first. Mrs. W. [Rings.] Claret, I suppose. Ros. Ah, the horrid stuff! No ! Port or sherry. Sp. [Aside.] Oh, Lord ! Wouldn't you like a glass of Apollinaris water ? [ Worried.] I'm afraid she's going to have what she calls a lark at my expense. John enters, c. Mrs. W. [r.] Port wine, John. [John exits, c] Arn't you afraid it will be too strong for you ? . Ros. Bless you, no. The stronger it is, the more I like it. Sp. [Stage, l.] By Jove ! AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 21 John enters, c, with decanter and glasses and puts them on table, c. Mrs. W. and Ros. sit r. and l. of table. Mrs. W. Now, you shall tell me all about your home. Sp. [Aside.] I must take a hand in. [Sits at table, c, be- tween them, face to audience.'] I beg your pardon, ladies, but this interests me greatly. [Keeps his hand on the decanter which Ros. reaches for.] Mrs. W. Fill her glass, Mr. Spinkle. Sp. Certainly. [ Gives her a drop.] Ros. [ To Mrs. W.] See what a little drop uncle gives me ! Mrs. W. Give the child a mouthful. [Sp. reluctantly gives Ros. more. Mrs. W. passes her the cake and Ros. begins to eat and sip.] How do you find it ? Bos. A 1. [Eats.] Mrs. W. A 1 ? Sp. [Explaining.] An expression she has probably learned from her father. It is much in vogue with mathematicians and engineers. Mrs. W. [To Ros.] Do you find a great difference between Europe and America ? Sp. Of course she does. There's a difference of 3,000 miles, not to mention the difference in language. [Ros. holds her glass to John, who fills it before Sp. can prevent him ; she enjoys the joke.] Mrs. W. I suppose you live very elegantly over there ? Ros. M-m-m ! You should see us. We kept thirty-one servants, one for every day in the month. Sp. What do you do in February with the three extra ones ? Mrs. W. That's what we call extravagant. Ros. I don't care, I always have what I want, regardless of cost. [Raps with glass on table.] Mrs. W. I'm afraid you have been spoiled. [Presenting cake.] Have another piece of this ? Ros. Thank you very much, I don't mind having another glass of wine. Mrs. W. Mr. Spinkle ! Sp. [Seizing decanter.] I don't approve of young persons taking wine. Here, John. [Giving decanter.] Ros. [Holds out her glass.] Here, John. [John fills it] Mrs. W. Here, John. [Holds out her glass, which John fills.] Sp. Oh, go it ! go it ! Here, John. [Holds out his glass, which John fills.] Mrs. W. I see by the letter you are just ninete en, my dear Ros. Yes, ma'am. 22 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. W. You may call me aunt, if you like. Bos. Yes, aunty. Mrs. W. I should have taken you for more than nineteen. Sp. South of France, you know — hot sun — brings them out sooner. Besides, her mother was of Spanish descent. Bos. From the banks of the Quadal quiver. Sp. Are you sure of that ? Bos. [Finish ing glass.'] There or thereabouts. [ Coolly rises.] Mrs. W. [Bises, takes c] Could we not take the dear child with us this evening? Sp. Nonsense ! She was not invited. Mrs. W. But the Potluckers would be charmed. Sp. [r., winking across at Bos.] I know Kate would not care for it. Bos. [l.] No, indeed. I'd much prefer to go to the circus. [l., attitude. Sp. hastily crosses to c] Mrs. W. [r., to Sp.] Singular taste. Sp. [a] Strange — not at all. The circus is much more fashionable than the opera on the other side. [Looks at Bos.] But I see she's resolved to be off. Bos. [l., crosses to c] Yes — I can't stay any longer. Mrs. W. John will see you home. Where do you stop, my dear? Sp. She can take a bob-tail car. Mrs. W. But she may get lost. Bos. Oh, I'm too cute a bird to lose myself. Good-bye, uncle, dear. [Going.] Good-bye, aunty. [Exits, c. l.] Mrs. W. [ Crosses to l.] Well, what a little madcap it is ! But I like your niece, Mr. Spinkle. She is so extremely natural. Sp. Extremely. Mrs. W. No society veneer — no varnish. Sp. [Down R.] You don't find it everywhere. Mrs. W. [Keenly.] Her father must be well off to afford to keep thirty-one servants. Sp. A millionaire! Mrs. W. [Same.] Any other children ? Sp. Only one. Mrs. W. She's a most charming girl. Lafayette enters, c. l. Lafayette. Now, aunt, I'm at your service. I took your parasol by mistake. [Hands her Bose's.] Mrs. W. That's not mine. [Beads name on handled] "Wild AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 23 Rose of Yucatan." [Hands it back to Laf. with a severe look.~\ Why, Lafayette ! Laf. \_Reads.~\ " Wild Rose of Yucatan." [Sands it to Sp.] Sp. [r., reads.] "Wild Rose — " [Throws it on sofa, r.] Mrs. W. It can't belong to your niece ! Sp. [r., gravely^] I trust not. Laf. What niece? Mrs. W. [Takes his arm, smiling and confidentially.'] I'll tell you all about it. [ Crosses to Sp.] Good-bye, Alexander, I won't be long. [Exits with Laf., c. l.] Sp. Don't ! [Alone ] What a horrible deceit I've practiced ! Fortunately she eluded the inquiries for her address. I must in- vent some story to account for her sudden departure. The niece must disappear instantly. I'll write her at once. [Sits at l. table to write. Music] John enters, c. l., at back. John. Are you alone, sir ? [Mysteriously.] Sp. [l., at writing table.] Now what is it ? John. It's not my fault, sir. I don't bring 'em. Sp. Bring what ? John. The young ladies. There's another one at the door. Sp. [Turns up to him.] Another one? John. And just as good-looking as the first. Sp. Ask her to come in. [John exits, c. l.] I have a pre- sentiment ! [Jumps up, buttons his coat, crosses stage to R.] Kitty enters, shown in by John. She is in travelling costume and carries a small bag. Kitty. Mr. Spinkle ? [ Timidly.] Sp. [r.] Yes. Kit. [Runs and embraces him.] My dear uncle ! Sp. [Aside.] I thought so. John. Master's in luck to-day. Two nieces turned up in one morning. [Music stops. Exits, c. l.] Kit. [Laughs and holds Sp. out at arms' length.] He doesn't know me — actually. He doesn't recognize his own niece ! Papa sends you his love a thousand times over. Why, how strange you look, just as if you didn't know me. But I am — I'm really and truly your niece ! [ With a sudden burst of apprehension.] But perhaps you didn't get papa's letter ! Sp. Yes — only an hour ago, though. [Crosses to l.] Kit. [Puts bag on table, r.] Oh ! it's all right, then. How 24 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. glad I am to find you out all by myself. I came straight to the place. How do I look ? Better than when you saw me in short frocks ? Am I very big, or very old ? How do you like me ? Tell me that, the first thing. Sp. [Embraces her.~\ I love you — always loved you. [ Over her shoulder. ~\ And if you were only three thousand miles away at this moment, I'd adore you. Kit. [Kisses him.'] And you look ever so well ! So you mar- ried since I saw you last ? How I long to see dear aunt and have her love me, too. I'll go to her on your arm, all smiles, then run up to hug and kiss her, and enjoy her astonishment at the sudden attack. Let's go at once. [Tries to drag him.'] Sp. Impossible, my dear. Kit. Why? Sp. In the first place, she is not here, she is out of town. Kit. Well, then, I must make the most of you. Let's sit down and have a long talk. [Takes off her hat and puts it on c. table.] Sp. [Crosses to E., aside.] The situation is becoming delight- ful. Kit. [l. of c. table.] How strange you are. Sjj. [e. of c. table.] My dear Kate, I must speak plainly. Your arrival has placed me in a very awkward position. Kit. I am very sorry for that. Sp. I mean on your account. My wife's absence leaves me, so to speak, without the power to offer you a home here. Kit. [Turns away mournfully.] I understand. Sp. Everything at sixes and sevens — no order — meals un- settled—I'm half-starved myself — neglected — in fact, quite in despair. Kit. [Recovering her brightness.] Say no more, uncle. Thank goodness I've been brought up to housekeeping. [Rises.'] I'll straighten things out for you right away, and keep them so till aunt gets home. [ Crossing to e.] Sp. [l. c] No, no, no — there's no necessity for that. I take my meals at my club — or a hotel restaurant. You see everything's upside down at home. Kit. [e. c, looks round.] Everything looks in the very best of order here. Sp. [l. c] Oh, yes! This room is all right. They are cleaning house, and have just finished this room. The others are chaos. Then, besides, my wife will bring some of her relatives home with her. You understand, my dear child ? I needn't explain further. So I'll have to put you in a boarding-house or something, for a few days. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 25 Kit. [Stage, R., disappointed.'] In a boarding-house! oh, dear ! how horrid ! Sp. Only for a few days. After that you'll come and live with us. [Patting her cheek."] There's a very pleasant Summer resort opposite. It's just as if you were in our house. [Goes to window.] You see, right over there. [Struck and leaving win- dow hastily.] Good gracious! My mother-in-law is coming back. [Aside.] Kit. [ Going over to him.] Well, take me over there. Sp. You had better look at my library before you go. [Ner- vously, door l.] Step in ! Kit. [Crossing to window.] No, I'd better go at once, if I must. Sp. [Seizing her as she crosses, and brings her to e. d.] Yes, yes — you may find a book to amuse— I know you like to read. Kit. I can come over afterwards. Sp. No — now. Now's the time. [Hurries her in and locks door.] Just in time. Mrs. Weebles enters with paper, c, down r. Mrs. Weebles. Only think, we met a telegraph boy with this despatch. Louise will be here to-morrow. Sp. [Drops in chair, l., alarmed^] My wife ! To-morrow ! [Rises.] Mrs. W. You don't seem to be greatly delighted ! Sp. [Forcing.] Oh, I am, I am very much, frightfully — indeed. Mrs. W. I must get everything ready at once. [Picks up bag.] What's that? Your careless little niece left her satchel. Sp. [About to get it] I'll take it to her. Mrs. W. [Affably.] No. I'll keep it and frighten her — it will give her a little lesson on order. [J.s^e.] And learn a thing or two. [Looks at bag. Opens it as she goes out] Per- haps. [ Closes it and exits, R. u. d.] Sp. Fortunately it is my niece's and not the other's ! [Down l. and unlocks door. Music] John enters, c. l. ' John. Shall I bring the young lady's trunk up here, sir ? Sp. [Savagely.] No, sir. [ Opens door, L.] 26 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Kitty enters, l. Kitty. It's lovely. I'll read all the books in it. Sp. Now we'll be off. Kit. [Searching, ,] Where's my bag ? [ Crosses to R.] Sp. Oh, I'll send it over. Somebody took it by mistake. We are so upset here. Any valuables in it ? Kit. Only my diary and brushes. Sp. It'll turn up when they sweep. Come, my love, come. [Helps her on with her hat, and awkwardly puts it over her eyes.~\ Kit. You are the most nervous and fidgety uncle that ever was. Sp. [Hurrying her off.'] Dyspepsia, my dear. Bad cooking and general neglect. [Mrs. W. calls.'] There ! Kit. Why, you actually pull me along. Mrs. Weebles. [In a high voice, outside.] Susan ! Susan ! Sp. [Terrified.] Ha! [Hurries her off, c] Quick! [John shakes his head solemnly.] Curtain. ACT II. Scene. — Same as First Act, with the addition of floral decorations for the return of Mrs. Spinkle. Music. John enters, c, with a floral piece. Spinkle discovered at l. table. Spinkle. Put it on the piano. That will do. [John puts flowers on piano.] Did you place the other basket of flowers in Mrs. Spinkle's room, John ? John, [r.] Yes, sir. Sp. Mrs. Weebles gone out, John ? John. Yes, sir ; went to the depot, sir. Sp. Did you hear Mrs. Weebles give any — ahem — directions AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 27 about packing her own trunks, preparatory to — ahem — leaving for good, John ? John. I heard her tell Susan to get out her things, because she was going to-morrow, sir. Sp. [Aside, relieved.'] Thank goodness ! I have only to keep my two nieces out of the house one day longer. [Crosses to R., aloud.] John ! John. Yes, sir. Sp. [r.] There are certain confidences I may have to repose in you, John — certain instructions I may give — which it is not necessary I should explain the reason for. You understand? John. No, sir. Sp. [Sharply.] What? John. I mean I don't understand, sir, but I shall obey, sir — to the letter. Sp. [Believed.] Very good. You see, John, a certain lady may call to-day. Nobody must see that person except myself. Now you comprehend? John. Rely on me, sir. [ Crosses to r.] Sp. I shall, John. [Crosses to l.] John, you may go. John. Master knows a man of honor when he sees one. I shall keep the secret like the spoons — locked in my own pantry — I mean my bosom. [Exits, r. u. d.] Sp. [Cheerfully.] My wife's mother goes to-morrow. After to-morrow I can cease to be a monster of secrecy and dissimula- tion, and breathe the air of freedom and innocence. My poor niece ! Poor Kitty ! I'll go to her at once, and tell her that after to-morrow my house is her home. [ Comes down to window and looks out] There she is, at the window of her lodgings ! How lovely and amiable she looks ! [Music] John enters, r. u. d. John. Mr. Spinkle! Mr. Spinkle! They're coming! Mrs. Spinkle is coming ! The ladies are here, sir ! [Exits, c. l.] Sp. [a] How glad I am to see my precious little wife once more. Stage r. John and Susan enter with bundles and packages, and exeunt, l. Afterwards re-enter, l., cross to c, and exeunt, c. l. Louise enters, c. Sp. [Embraces her.] My darling! Welcome a thousand times. [Music stops.] Louise, [l., rushes to him and embraces him.] How glad I am to see you again ! A thousand times over and over ! 28 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. Weebles enters, c. l., and goes directly to l. window. Mrs. Weebles. Now we'll see where lie goes, Louise. Lou. [Runs to window, l.] There he is ! There ! As sure as I live ! Sp. [Crosses to Lou.~] Now, what in the name of common sense — [Goes to window and tries to kiss and embrace Louise again.'] Mrs. W. [Pulling him away, sharply.'] Time enought for that nonsense ! There he is, Louise! Going into the boarding-house! Actually going into the boarding-house opposite ! Well, that beats all! Sp. [a] I certainly think my wife might pay a little more attention, at this moment, to her husband, than to the lodger across the street. Lou. [l., crosses to him.] You dear ducky, you are ever so right. [Kisses him.] There! Sp. [Holds her ojf. adm iringly.] You are a hundred times pret- tier than when I saw you last — if that were possible. Mrs. TT. [Severely.] You are entirely mistaken, Mr. Spinkle, the poor child is pale with fright. Sp. Pale with flight ? What fright ? What has frightened her ? Mrs. TT. [l.] You had better ask who has frightened her ? The man who has just gone into the house ojDposite — and who has dogged her to your very door, Mr. Spinkle ! Lou. [Grosses to him — nestling io him.] Yes, indeed! Sp. Sit down, dear, and let me hear about this. [Puts her on sofa,] Lou. [r.] I observed him for the first time day before yes- terday, at the hotel in Chicago, where I took breakfast. He sat at the same table and stared me completely out of countenance. Mrs. W. [l., seated l. of table.] Do you hear, Mr. Spinkle? Stared her completely out of countenance. Lou. He beset me with the most embarrassing attentions — handed me the salt, the pepper, the butter, the syrup, a fork, the rolls and two spoons. Mrs. TT. You hear, Mr. Sprinkle — the salt, the pepper, the mustard — Lou. No, ma — the butter. Mrs. W. It's the same thing, Louise. Sp. [a] The butter is a very different thing from the mus- tard. Continue, my dear. Lou. He seemed anxious to render himself agreeable to me in every way. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 29 Sp. And finally accosted you ? Lou. No. To do him justice, he never attempted to address a word to me ; but when I rose from the table, he rose. Mrs. W. [ Triumphant, to Sp.~] He rose ! Sp. Well, I don't see anything very dreadful in that. Mrs. W. Just wait and hear what follows. Lou. From that time he followed me like my shadow. Mrs. W. [Half weeping. ~\ Like her shadow ! My poor child ! Sp. Go on — the rest. Lou. I found him at every turn, gazing at me with intensity. In the street — in the horse cars — in the shops — everywhere. Mrs. W. Everywhere ! Sp. Nobody can prevent that — go on. Lou. When I bought my tickets for New York, he bought tickets for New York. Mrs. W. He bought tickets ! Sp. He bought tickets because he didn't have a pass, I sup- pose ; and when you got on the train, he followed you into the same car? Lou. No. To do him justice, he did not attempt to come in the same car with me. But when I arrived at the depot in New York — there he was. Mrs. W. There he was ! Sp. There he naturally would be — since he had bought his ticket. I don't see anything very dreadful, so far. Mrs. W. Nothing very dreadful, so far ! I suppose you would have gone as far as that yourself! Sp. I would — if I had bought a ticket. Mrs. W. Nothing extraordinary for a lady to find herself followed by a man for nine hundred and fifty miles ! Nothing extraordinary, Mr. Spinkle? Sp. Well, my love, did he make himself disagreeable in any way? Lou. Far from it. I dropped my handkerchief at the depot, and he picked it up and handed it to me instantly. Sp. With his card in it — or a note ? Lou. No, indeed. Mrs. W. [Rises.'] A pretty school you've been to, Mr. Spinkle ! A pretty experience you must have had ! Lou. He only followed me from the depot here. ' Sp. Well? Lou. [l.] That's all. [Goes to window, l.] Sp. [Relieved — crosses to her.~\ Is that all ? It's not so bad then, after all. 30 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. W. [r., rising^] What more would you have him do ? I declare, it's enough to drive me mad ! Sp. [a] I have nothing to take the man to task for. He was not insolent or impudent. Lou. [l.] Not at all. Mrs. W. With your principles, Mr. Spinkle, I shouldn't wonder if you considered the person, on the whole, rather praise- worthy than otherwise. Sp. [To Lou.'] At all events, you have nothing more to fear, my love. You are in your own home now, and under my pro- tection. [Kisses her.] Mrs. W. [Between them, drawing Lou. away.] Do let the poor child get her things off, and rest after her fatigue, Mr. Spinkle. Come to your room, my love, I have so much to talk about. Lou. [Crosses to Sp. — laughingly.] I won't be long — you are not angry with me ? Sp. Angry, my pet? Never! [About to kiss her.] Mrs. W. [Draws her off.] Come, my love. [Exits with LOU., R. U. D.] Sp. [Alone. Music] It was an odd thing, but — pshaw ! — I don't wonder a man liked to look at so pretty a woman ! And she is pretty ! Oh, no, I can't blame him for that. [ Crosses to window.] Kate is there still — she looks this way— she sees me and smiles a good morning ! [Smiles, nods, and kisses his hand to her.] Good morning, my dear. Mrs. Weebles enters, r. u. d., and perceives his signs. Mrs. Weebles. What's he doing? Who's he bowing to? [Aside.] Sp. [Talking to Kate.] I'll be over soon. [Nods and smiles.] Mrs. W. [ Comes behind him softly and looks.] A young girl, as I'm a breathing woman ! Sp. [Nods, kisses his hand, closes window, turns and confronts Mrs. W., at first dumbfounded, he recovers.] Excuse my back, my dear madam. Mrs. W. [Music stops, stage r.] Don't mind me, Mr. Spinkle — pray don't mind me. Sp. [Sweetly.] Have you just come back, mamma dear ? Mrs. W. [Viciously.] No, sir. I came in while you were telegraphing across the street. Sp. Oh ! [ Turning away.] Mrs. W. The responses to your salutations were exceedingly friendly. May I ask who it is ? AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 31 Sp. \_Aside.~\ I can't bring out another niece. [Aloud.] It was a young lady, opposite. Mrs. W. Oh, I saw as much myself. Sp. [Embarrassed and hesitating .] She looked over with such a smile — such an innocent smile — I greeted her as pleasantly and as innocently. You know how such things happen, yourself. Mrs. W. Sir ! Yes, with young boys — or young, impertinent fellows — but not with married men, Mr. Spinkle. Sp. You are right — quite right — it was entirely inexcusable. I'll close the curtains, to prevent any recurrence of the circum- stance. [Crosses, l.] Mrs. W. [Aside.] We'll investigate you, sir — later. Lafayette enters, c. l. Lafayette. Aunty, good morning — how do you feel after the party ? You look as fresh as a daisy. Sp. [l., sotte voce, humming.'] " She's a daisy." Mrs.W. [Sharply.] What's that? Sp. [l.] I merely echo Lafayette's compliment. Mrs. W. [r.] A very distant echo. [To Laf.~] And how is our love affair progressing ? Laf. [a] I have made a decided impression, of course — but I'm afraid it's a waste of time. Mrs. W. You may not get her? Laf. I may not want her. You know her forty thousand a year? [To Sp.] Sp. Well. Laf. Well, it turns out to be her capital. Forty thousand's all she's got in the world. That's not enough for two, you know. Sp. [l.] Then you propose to pull up ? Laf Yes — to draw off. Mrs. W. To back out? Sp. I say, Lafayette — you have a deal of sentiment in your nature — a warmth as it were — an unselfish, uncalculating, impul- sive heart. Laf. [Innocently.] Do you think so ? I did go it blind at first, to be sure, but I'm so very confiding. [ Grosses r.] Yes. Mrs. W. [Suddenly, to Sp., crossing c] By the way, as I was going down in the car, I saw your niece. Sp. [Serious, l.] Oh — you did ? • Mrs. W. She looked charming. I stopped the car, got out and spoke to her. She had on the sweetest little hat I ever saw. I made her promise to lunch with us, to-day. Sp. Lunch with us ! Here ? 32 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. W. Where would she lunch with us ? Sp. [Aside.] What a diabolical chance! My wife must not see her. I can't pass her off there ! Poor Louise ! I must get her out of the house before the other one comes. What shall I invent ? [Slaps his forehead.'] Let me think ! [Exits, r. u. d.] Mrs. W. [Smiling, with importance to Laf] Lafayette, I've been planning some good fortune for you. Laf [e.] For me ? Mrs. W. You remember my telling you about his niece ? Laf. Just landed — Mrs. W. There's the match for you. An only daughter — and a fortune simply colossal. Laf. I say — are you sure of the fortune ? These things don't pan out on investigation. Mrs. W. This is positive — and she's a most lovely creature — a little emancipated in sentiment and ideas, perhaps, but her heart is in the right place. Laf. Oh — if her heart is in the right place — [ Crosses, l.] Where is it ? — I mean where is she ? Mrs. W. Stay to lunch, she will be here. Laf. [l.] I guess I'd better dress, eh? You know the first impression is everything Mrs. W. No, no. You'll do well enough. Besides, I want your assistance in another matter. Promise me to be as secret as the grave. Laf. It's a very grave secret then ? Mrs. W. [Mysteriously and catching his arm.'] I surprised Mr. Spinkle communicating with a person at the window opposite. Laf. What of that? Mrs. W. [With a shriek] What of that? Oh, I forgot to tell you — it was a young lady. Laf. Horrible! He! he! Mrs. W. It is my duty to watch over my daughter's happi- ness. You must discover who and what this young person is ! [Laf. goes to window and peeps out.] Is she there? Laf. [Hooks up curtains^] Sitting at the window reading. Mrs. W. The same. But remember — silence, secrecy and discretion. As soon as you get any information, come to me. [Exits, r. u. D.] Laf. There she is! By Jove, she's pretty! Now she raises her head. She looks this way. [ Twists his moustache.] Ahem ! [Nods, smiles, etc.] Spinkle enters R. lower door, and sees him. Spinkle. What are you doing there? AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 33 Laf. [ Turns.'] Oh, nothing — merely — that's a deuced pretty- girl over there. Sp. [Crosses and closes curtains.'] I'm surprised at you! What will the lady think of us? This is my house, sir, my house — and I must be careful to — to — Laf. Let nobody look at her but yourself, eh ? {Pokes him.] I say — who is she ? Sp. [Crosses to r.] It is a matter of indifference to me, sir, who she is. Some boarder, some sempstress, or something. I believe you have not seen Mrs. Spinkle yet. Your cousin has just arrived. Laf. Let's go at once. [ Takes Sp.'s arm.] Sp. With pleasure. [Going.] I shall not mention this matter to my wife, but don't let it occur again. [Exeunt, r. u. d.] John enters, c. l. ; showing in Herbert. John. Name, please. Herbert. [Looks around.] I wish to see the gentleman whose wife arrived this morning. John. Mr. Spinkle 's wife came home to-day. Herb. Mr. Spinkle ? Well, say to Mr. Spinkle that I entreat a private interview with him on a matter of delicacy and im- portance. John. [Aside.] Private interview ? This must be the person master expected. " Delicacy and importance ! " Must be the person ! Herb. [Music] Well, sir, have you considered me suffi- ciently ? John. Please step this way, sir. [ Opens door, l.] 1 In here, sir! [Herb, enters, l., and John locks the door.] I guess he won't see anybody till master gets to him. That's done ! Kitty enters, c. l., John looks at her aghast. Kitty. Why, my good man, you seem quite overcome! Is Mr. Spinkle at home? I wish to see him. [Music stops.] John. [Aside.] Here's another one! [JUowd] I don't know if you can see him, Miss — Kit. [Sits, e., takes off hat and cloak.] Oh, very well, I'll wait ; there's no hurry. What's your name ? John. My name is John, Miss. Kit. Well, John, my uncle tells me he is greatly neglected. John. Bv me, Miss? 3 34 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Kit. Oh, no, not by you particularly; what servants have you in the house? John. Servants? There's cook, Miss, and Susan, and the kitchen gal. Kit. Send them here! or, rather, send Susan up. I'll go to the kitchen myself. [Bises.] John. Yes, Miss. [Crosses to c, aside, going.] What's all this I wonder? Well, master must look out for himself. I can't lock up no more of 'em. [Exits, e. u. d.] Kit. Poor uncle! He shan't have to take his meals in a restaurant any longer. But we'll begin the reform with one at a time. [Stage, l.] Susan enters, c. r. Susan. You wish to see me, marm? Kit. Are you the chambermaid? Susan, [r., independent.'] Yes, ma'am! What do you wish ? Kit. I am Mr. Spinkle's niece, and what I wish is to get this house in order. Susan. I should think everything was in order now. Kit. My uncle is of a different opinion. As the mistress of the house is not here, thiugs have to take care of themselves. [Turns away.] Susan. I beg your pardon, ma'am! Things do not have to take care of themselves, and Mrs. Spinkle is here. Kit. [Starts, overjoyed.] My aunt has returned? [Crosses to E.] Susan. Mrs. Spinkle has just got in, ma'am. Kit. Then we'll give her a little surprise ! We'll have the kitchen in apple-pie order directly. Lend me your apron, Susan. You can get another. [ Crosses to l.] Susan. [Catching her spirit] Yes, ma'am. [Unties her apron and ties it on Kit] But I say, ma'am, our cook's got an awful temper. Kit. All cooks have awful tempers, Susan. That's how I get along with them so well. Don't come down while I'm there. I'll go into the cage by myself. Get the linen closet ready for my inspection, Susan ; I'll show you a little " old country " house- keeping before you're an hour older, [r.] Susan. [Aside.] Well, she's a queer one, but I bet she un- derstands her bus'ness. [Exits, r. u. d.] Kit. I wonder if the cook is much bigger than I am. [Her- bert knocks at door, l.] Who's in there ?, Herbert. [Inside.] I'm locked in. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 35 Kit. Somebody locked in! Why, the key's in the door. [ Turns it.'] Herbert enters, l., puts hat on chair, end of piano. Herbert. I beg pardon. The man locked me in by mistake, I suppose, and afterwards forgot me. [ Crosses to R.] Kit. [l.] Do you — do you — belong here? [Aside.'] I wonder if he's a relation. Herb. Do I belong here? Don't you? Kit. No, I am a stranger. Herb. Oh, you've just come, I suppose. Kit. Yes, I've just come. Herb. A new chambermaid or something. Kit. Chambermaid ! [Looks at apron.] I see. No, I'm not a new chambermaid. I'm a new niece. [Takes off apron.] Herb. [Quickly.] Niece of the lady who got home this morning? Kit. She is "my aunt. Herb. How fortunate ! Then you will say a good word for me! Kit. I should be very glad to, but I don't know her. Herb. [Crosses to l.] Don't know your aunt? [J.side.] This is a singular family. Kit [Indicating seat] But I intend to make her acquaint- ance. May I ask what you wish me to say to her ? Herb. [Sits l. of c. table.] You won't think the less of me, I hope, when I tell you I am an artist. I have composed a great picture — a study of the female beauties of the Arabian Nights — nineteen faces are completed — the twentieth is wanting. Kit. [r.] Oh, you want somebody to paint the twentieth for you? Herb, [l.] No. I want somebody to sit for it. I have had an ideal — in my painter's dream world — I saw a face that haunted my visions. One day it came on earth, took shape and stood before me. I saw it in flesh and blood — the ideal ! the radiant vision ! I said to myself, I must have it — the missing face is there — [Snaps his fingers.] my picture is finished. Kit. [Rises — forward.] It must have been a great load off your mind. Herb. The lady was alone — it was at a hotel — I dared not address her — but I followed her to ascertain where she lived — I said to myself: she must have a husband, or a brother, or a father, or an uncle, or somebody. Kit. It was a reasonable anticipation. 36 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Herb. I learned at last that she is a Mrs Spinkle, and that there is a Mr. Spinkle. I shall address myself to him. Kit. That's easily arranged. Herb. But I am so diffident — so bashful — if you will help me. Kit. With pleasure. Herb. [Looks at her steadfast — hands in pockets, then changes his position.'] Pardon me — you have a beautiful head. Kit. [Laughing.] That's not so bad for such an extremely bashful young man. Herb. There ! Stand just in that position ! Don't move ! Exquisite ! And yet your figure does not match — you should be larger — rounder ! Kit. Pray don't mind me — go on. Herb. And your hair should be darker. Kit. [Smiling.] Oh, I know my imperfections. I am really a quite insignificant person. Herb. [Patronizing.] By no means — that is, not in my eyes; for you can assist me with your uncle. Kit. [Aside.] Well — such coolness. [ Crosses to e.] Herb. [Fervently, takes her hand.] May I count on your help? Say yes — do say yes — may I call and get your answer? Kit. You may if you like — that is — of course — at least — I have no objection. Herb. [Following her to E. corner and impressively kisses her hands.] I can never repay you. [Goes up, takes hat from chair near piano, and ]?auses.] Yes — you might be — rounder. [Fxits, C. L.] Kit. And he calls himself the diffident and bashful young man ! If he got the other nineteen sitters the same way, they must present a collection of very much astonished females. He's driven the cook out of my head. No use in beginning now. [Crosses to L.] Louise enters, e. u. e., carrying a small cigar case. Louise. I stole away from them to make up my little sur- prise. How glad he will be to find this gift from me in his desk ! [Sees Kit] Who is this ? Kit. [Aside.] It must be my aunt. [Buns to her.] Dear, good aunt Louise, may I hope to gain a little corner in your kind heart ? [Advances.] Lou. [r.] Why, then you are the niece mamma has told me so much about ? Kit. [l.] Yes, I am she. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 37 Lou. [Kisses her.~\ Why did they not send you in to me at once? Kit. I did not know you had arrived. Lou. I am prepared to love you at first sight, Kate. Kit. Just think, I was going down into the kitchen to wake up the cook and take her to task for neglecting uncle. He tells a most dismal story of his sufferings during your absence. Lou. Indeed ! Kit. But now you are back, the sun shines out again. Lou. [Both crossing to R., arm-in-arm.'] Come to my room. We are all there, and you can begin to settle down with us at once. Kit. [r.] I must put on something else. I ran over with this dress to engage the servants in single combat. [Putting on hat.'] Lou. [Come, there are no strangers — Cousin Lafayette is the only person — Kit. [ Crossing and up during speech, turns to kiss her.] Then I must fix up a bit for him, of course. I'll be back soon. [Crosses to c, kisses her.] Oh, I was so fearful you mightn't take to me. I was, indeed. Lou. [r.] I've taken to you already. Now hurry back. Kit. In five minutes. [Exits, c. l.] Lou. Now to put this in his desk. [Approaches desk, l,] Spinkle, Lafayette and Mrs. Weebles enter, r. u. d. She stops as she sees them. Lou. There ! You found me out ! Sp. Found you out in what, my love ? Lou. [l.] In this. Sp. A cigar case ! Lou. For you ! I bought it in San Francisco myself, and chose it out of a — [ They go up together.] Sp. [Patting his arm round her waist] My own darling! [They converse up stage,] Laf. [Down c, with Mrs. W.] I understand! I drop in as if by accident. Mrs. W. [r. c] Just before lunch — and, after a while, I'll manage to leave you alone with the heiress. She's particularly fond of a glass of wine — her French education. I'll send some up. There, be off with you ! She'll be here directly ! Laf. Aunt, you are an angel. [Going.] Bye-bye, auntie — bye-bye, cousin — bye-bye, Spinkle! Bye-bye everybody! [Exits, c] Sp. [Down C.j arm around Lou's waist.] My darling ! 38 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. W. I suppose you are auxious to see your niece, my love. She'll soon be here. Sp. [l., aside.'] And I must get my wife away before she comes. Lou. [a] Oh, I have seen her. Sp. You have — Mrs. W. [r., disappointed.'] She was here and went away again ? How unfortunate ! Lou. No, she'll be back in a little while. Mrs. W. How do you like her ? [Sits on sofa, r., with Lou.] Loa. Very much. She is all nature and innocence. Mrs. W. A little want of dignity. Lou. I did not observe that. Mrs. W. But full of energy. Lou. Oh, yes. [To Sp.] ^*How old is Kate ? Sp. Eh, Kate? Oh, ah! You are quite right. Her name is Kate. Mrs. W. Louise asks you how old she is. Sp. [Sits, r. c] ^Vhy, you see — time passes very rapidly — with persons at a distance. Originally she was quite small — very. Now she is grown — much. [Aside, rises.] I wonder which niece she has seen. I must take her out of this. [Aloud.] My darling, I have a little excursion to propose — for an hour. Lou. Xow? [Rises and crosses to him. Mrs. W. restrains her.] Mrs. W. The child is not recovered from her fatigue yet. Sp. [Aside.] Another expensive but effectual ruse must be resorted to. [To Lou.] My darling! [Leading her aside and confidentially.] I had intended a little surprise for you — in fact I ordered the articles — but, at the last moment I directed Tif- fany to keep them until I brought you to make the choice yourself. Lou. [l. c, rapturously.] Something at Tiffany's for me ! Not the solitaires I used to loDg for ? Sp. [Smiling.] Sh ! Perhaps. Lou. [To Mrs. W.] Oh, I must go directly. Sp. [-L., aside.] I wonder if Haroun al Raschid had to take his favorite Sultana to the Arabian Tiffany's, after every noctur- nal adventure? Mrs. W. Isn't there time enough to-morrow ? Lou. Xo, indeed ! "We must go to-day, mustn't we, dearest ? /Sp. Instantly darlingest ! Get your hat on at once. Lou. Oh, you duck! [Rushes at him, taJces his head betiveen her hands and kisses him.] Come, mamma ! [Darts off, R. u. D., followed by Mrs. W., sullenly.] AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 39 Sp. [Touches bell.'] I must write a line to give Kosie when she returns! If it was Rosie. [Takes out pocket-book, tears out leaf and scratches a line.] John enters, r. u. d., going c. Sp. You rascal, come here! Did I not expressly tell you that that person must see no one but myself? John, [l.] I locked him in your room, sir. Sp. Locked him in my room ? Him ! Whom ? John. The gentleman, sir — then the lady must have let him out. Sp. What lady, idiot? John. [Confidentially^] One of them as came yesterday, sir. Sp. Ah! Which of them? Which— that's the point— which ? John. Which, sir ? Why the one with the lovely, sweet ex- pression, sir. Sp. [ Crosses, r., aside.] If I only knew what kind of taste the rascal has ! [J./W., crosses. John. She's a coming. [Exits, c. l.] Mrs. Weebles enters, r. u. d. Mrs. Weebles. A strange man in the parlor? Her. [ Yawning and stretching.] I suppose there's time for a little nap ! [ Curls up on sofa, with his back to Mrs. W.] Mrs. W. Do you wish to see Mr. Spinkle, sir ? Her. [Jumping up.] Mr. Spinkle! Where is the old boy? Mrs. W. The old boy ! Her. You bet your life he's on a cruise somewhere. He's got nothing to do but enjoy himself. Mrs. W. May I ask with whom I have the honor of speak- ing? Her. Honors are easy, I guess, old lady. I suppose you're the housekeeper. I'm one of the heavy-weights — under man in the pyramid — ground and lofty tumbling, eh? Mrs. W. [l., aside.] Another acrobat ! My son-in-law is certainly going to set up a circus. Her. This sort of a rig don't set off a fellow. You ought to see me in tights. If you're a judge of muscle, there's your chance. [Nudging her.] Mrs. W. But what do you want in my son-in-law's house ? Her. [Crosses to l.] Your son-in-law ! [Whistles.] Then I guess I made a pretty considerable mistake ! I apologize. This performance will not be repeated by request. [Bows.] Mrs. W. Your business ? Her. My business! Ah! that's the point. First — let me ask one question. Are you on good terms with your son-in- law? Mrs. W. Of course. He has no secrets from me. 78 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Her. [Nudging her.'] Very good. Then as you know all about this affair, of course — I merely came to say that the fat's in the fire — she won't go. Mrs. W. She won't go ? The — the lady circus performer ? Her. There's a chap hanging round who wants to marry her. Now you know that when a woman gets that in her head, you can't do anything with her. You've been there. You know. Mrs. W. [e] Sir ! Come to the case in point. Her. The point's just here. My governor expects me to bring her to the circus to-morrow. He's got to have her. If I go back without her, he'll just pull my head off. Yes he will. Mrs. W. Then let me inform you that the young man is going to marry her. He was here just now. Her. He was? You saw him ? Mrs. W. He must belong to a rival establishment — his busi- ness is connected with cannon balls — if you understand what that is? Her. You don't tell me ! Going to take her to another es- tablishment, is he ? Mrs. W. You had better consult him yourself. Her. [Rolls up his cuffs.'] I'll consult him. Look here! There's a cannon ball I'll give him to toss. There's a fifty-six pounder for him to lift off his nose. Much obliged to you. I'll ring up on as pretty a show as you ever see when I catch him. [Going up, l.] Mrs. W. One moment, please. Her. [At door, turns.] I'm on time. Mrs. W. Do you know anything about Haroun al Raschid ? Her. [l.] Haroun al Raschid? Mrs. W. I'm exceedingly anxious to know all about him. Her. Haroun-al-Raschid ! Why he's the best trick horse of our circus ; goes up a step-ladder like a Christian, fires off a pis- tol with his teeth, and turns a hand-organ with his off left foot. [Returns and gives her tickets.] Here's a couple of comps for the show next month. You'll see the entire animal if you come. Good day, ma'am. No thanks. Don't mention it. [Off c, quickly. Music] Mrs. W. What a fearful class of people ! But what in the name of common sense had the horse to do with my son-in-law's infatuation for this creature? He said it was all on account of Haroun al Raschid. [ Crosses to l.] More mystery. [ Goes to window.] Here they are ! Lafayette and the dear child, in a cab. He has brought her at last — it was time. Now I can make them happy. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 79 Lafayette and Kosie enter, c. R. Lafayette. Here we are, aunty ! Mrs. W. [l., embraces Eos.] My sweet girl! [Crosses toe, to Laf] So you are happy, you foolish fellow ? Laf. [r.] I feel as if I was standing on my head. Eosie. I don't know what's the matter with him. Mrs. W. It is love, my precious. All your doing — enchan- tress. [Music stops."] Eos. [Draws Mrs. W. aside, and quietly.] Did you know he wants to marry me ? Mrs. W. The impetuous boy. Eos. [Same.] And he wants me to elope with him. Mrs. W. Just like him. You'll have to do it. There never was any resisting him. [Crosses to c] Eos. [l.] Will you answer me one question, please ? [To Laf., who draws near.] No, no ; you must not listen. Mrs. W. [l.] Go away, you naughty fellow! [Laf. goes up, r.] What is it, my child ? Eos. [a] When people wish to get married, I suppose they must have something to live upon. How much has he got ? Mrs. W. My dear child, what he possesses is of minor im- portance. You will have enough for both. Eos. Oh — so we can live on my fortune ? Mrs. W. [ Crosses to a, 'patting her on cheek.] Yes, you prac- tical little thing. Eos. Ya'as. I am a practical little thing — and I like to have a practical little husband. Has Lafayette considered the circumstances you mention ? Mrs. W. Oh, fully. [Goes to Laf.] Eos. [l., aside.] So that's the romance of it, is it ? Laf. [a, goes to Eos.] The brightest future opens before us. The sky is all sunshine. We will live in air. Eos. [Aside.] Yes, and on it. Laf. Let us wing our flight to the empyrean of happiness. Eos. [Looks at him^\ Houp-la ! Mrs. W. [Contemplating them.] You were created for each other. [Music] Eos. [Aside.] How happy a girl must be when all this is real ! Poor Rosie ! [Dashes away a tear.] Time to be off ! [ Gaily, crosses to c] Mrs. W. [Puts locket and chain over Eos.'s neck.] Keep this for my sake. Eos. You have been very kind to me. I'm grateful. [Lays her hand on Mrs. W.'s arm.] And you shall not regret it. [ With meaning.] 80 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Spinkle enters and looks at the group, astonished. Ros. sees him and goes to him. Ros. Good-bye. [Laf. crosses to Mrs. W.] Spinkle. [As he takes Ros.'s hand, says in a low tone to her.] This time I hope for good. Ros. [Same to him.'] Most generous Haroun al Raschid, the stay has come to an end at last. Don't be afraid. I'll return him [Indicating Laf.] safe and sound. Mrs. W. Don't keep them ! They must go ! Laf. Come, my dear! Good-bye, cousin ! [To Spink.] We are off! Sp. [r., near arch, shaking hands with him.] Take my advice. Get an excursion ticket — there and back. [Ros. and Laf. exit, off c] Mrs. W. Bless them ! Sp. [r., coming down.] You won't tell Louise anything of what you know ? Mrs. W. Not for the present. Sp. [Alarmed.] The present? Mrs. W. [r.] Not till the dear children come back from their honeymoon. Sp. Their honeymoon ! Mrs. W. [Triumphantly^] We have taken you by surprise. You have just assisted at their elopement. [Crosses to l.] Sp. [Excited.] Elopement ? Do you know what you have done? Mrs. W. Done! Yes — done you! [Crosses to R., up.] Ha, ha, ha, Mr. Spinkle ! Outwitted by your stupid old mother-in- law ! ha, ha, ha ! [Exits, R. u. d.] Sp. [His back against table.] When the truth comes out — I don't want to see her. That laugh in passing around to the other side of her mouth will certainly wrench her. Uncle enters, c, quickly, and puts down hat. Down R. Uncle. I say, Spinkle, did you know she was going away ? Sp. Going? She has gone. Unc. [Wipes forehead^] No — not yet. Sp. [Alarmed.] Not gone yet! Unc. I tried my best to keep her. Sp. [Angrily.] Why, what the devil— what in the name of madness induced you to do that ? Unc. I mean your niece across the way. Sp Eh! Oh, yes. I am so confused I forgot my niece. AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 81 But you say she is going. Everybody is going except my mother- in-law! [To Unc.~\ Going where? Unc. Home ! The poor thing was ready to cry. Sp. [Crosses to R.] I'd like to cry, myself — I feel as if I were about to be hanged. Fancy what has happened ! Lafay- ette has eloped with the circus girl ! Unc. The Arabian Nights girl — the bare-back rider ? Well — all I can say is — it's a nice mess you've got into. Sp. When the truth comes out, I'm ruined ! Help me, uncle ! Think — invent — Unc. When the truth comes out ! Bring it out yourself — draw the string ! Confess ! Sp. To Mrs. Weebles? Unc. To your wife. Sp. [Looks mournfully at him."] You advise that ? Unc. I do. Sp. The clouds are gathering. Unc. The truth will scatter them, my boy — and after the storm — a bright morning. Sp. And the thunder and lightning will be furnished by my mother-in-law. [Exits, R. u. d.] Louise enters, c. l., followed by Susan, who helps to remove her cloak and hat. Louise. Mr. Spinkle is home? Susan, [l.] Yes, ma'am. Please, m'm, there's a young lady down stairs, who's been waiting for you. [Music] Lou. [r.] A young lady ? Ask her to come up. Kitty appears at door. Kitty. I took the liberty — [Susan exits, l.] Lou. Why, my dear Kate, when did you get back? Kit. I have not been away ! Lou. Why, my husband said you had gone to visit some friends ! Kit. Don't be angry with me, aunt, but uncle has been acting so strangely. Lou. Strangely ? Kit. Yes. I have made up my mind to go back to papa. If it had not been for Herbert — Lou. Herbert ? Who is Herbert ? Kit. I didn't tell you. He is in love with me. 6 82 AX ARABIAN NIGHT. Lou. [Reproach, alarm.] Heavens ! what have you been doing? Kit. [l.] We have been consulting as to the best course to take under the circumstances. Spinkle enters quickly, followed by Uncle. Spinkle. My dear — [Stops on seeing Kit.'] Uncle, [r.] Now's your time ! — confess everything ! Lou. [l. c, goes to Sp.] My dear, I'm so glad you've come. This poor child has taken a most important step. Sp. [Drawing her away.] Yes — and I'm going to take a most important step. Lou. [a] But she acknowledges — Sp. I am going to acknowledge — I must see you alone. [Unc. goes up stage.] Lou. But she — Sp. It's about her — and — others I wish to speak. If you don't come now it'll all fizz out ! [Feeling his throat.] I've got the cork out and there's not a moment to lose ! [Exit, r. u. d., with Lou.] Kit. [ Aside.] More mystery ! I'm getting frightened again. [Sits, l. c, table.] Unc. [l.] Sit down! Don't be frightened! It'll be all right within five minutes. I'll go and bring somebody else! [Nods, winks, smiles and exits, c. l.] Mrs. Weebles enters, r. u. d., stops on seeing Kit. Mrs. Weebles. That circus creature here! Whom are you waiting for? [Tartly.] Kit. [la., rises.] For Mr. Spinkle. Mrs. W. [Sternly.] I thought you were gone — long ago. Kit. [Interested.] Did you know I had resolved to go back ? Mrs. W. Yes — and I am particularly desirous of knowing why you have changed your mind ! Kit. I have not changed my mind. I thought it my duty to come here and say good-bye. Mrs. W. Your sense of duty, young woman, seems a little ex- aggerated. Come ! If there is anything more you want, tell me, you needn't see anybody else. In fact, I advise you not to ! Kit. [Rises proudly.] I am not afraid to see anybody] Everybody knows who I am. I am not ashamed. [Crosses R. c] Mrs W. [Aside.] The brazen thing ! Kit. Aunt herself told me to wait here. Mrs. W. Aunt? What aunt? AN ARABIAN NIGHT. 83 Kit. It seems you don't know me. I am Mr. Spinkle's niece from France. Mrs. W. You bold, audacious creature ! Ain't you afraid the floor will open and swallow you up ? Uncle and Herbert enter, c. Uncle. There she is. Herbert, [r. c, goes to Kit.'] Why do you remain with these people, love ? Mrs. W. She brings her acrobats under our very noses ! Kit. [r.] Things are worse and worse! I have just been called a bold, audacious creature. Somebody's crazy here, and I know it's not me. Louise enters, r. u. e., laughing, and pulling in Spinkle. Louise. It's a splendid story ! [Runs to Kit., and seizes both her hands.] My poor Kate, what must you have suffered ! Mrs, W. Louise, do you know in what relation that person stands to your husband ? Lou. Yes, mamma. She's his niece. Mrs. W. His niece? Spinkle. [a, going to Mrs. W.] Of course, didn't you know that ? You said you knew everything ? Mrs. W. [In alarm.] Tell me, then ! — for goodness sake ! How many nieces have you got ? Sp. Only one — this one. Mrs. W. And the circus rider? Where is she? Sp. Eloped with Lafayette! [Goes to Lou., Kit. and Herb. Mrs. W. screams and faints. Unc. supports her to a chair, and begins to slap her hands.] Lou. Poor mamma ! [About to go to her.] Sp. [Restraining her.] Wait a moment. She'll brace up in a minute. I feel it coming. [To Herb.] I have heard all about it. For the present you shall be a welcome guest in my house, until my brother arrives ! He will give you his answer. Mrs. W. [Suddenly reviving.] Where is he? [Jumps up.] Sp. She wants me. Mrs. W. [Approaching him.] You have deceived me ! en- trapped us ! Give me back that poor deluded young man ! Sp. I regret to say I cannot. Rosie appears at door. Rosie. But I can ! 84 AN ARABIAN NIGHT. Mrs. W. You? Bos. You recollect — I told you you were kind to me — and you should not regret it. Here is your locket — it was not meant, for me. And here is your nephew — he was not exactly intended for me, either. Lafayette enters, with handkerchief tied over his eye and limping. Lafayette. Oh, auntie ' we've had a devil of a time ! [l. of Bos.'] Bos. I promised to bring him back safe and sound — but — \_To Mrs. W.] you told poor Hercules that he was a rival circus man trying to carry me off, and so, in his indignation — Laf. He began to cannon ball me ! First, he loaded me with abuse, and then fired me into the middle of the street. Bos. But then he apologized when he discovered his mistake.. Laf. [Producing tickets.'] Yes, and he gave me two compli- mentary tickets for the show. [Crosses to r.] Bos. And brought you here himself! Hercules appears sheepishly at back. Mrs. W. My poor Lafayette ! We will go together. JJnc. [l.] No, you shall not. [Music] Bos. And now I can go — and this time for good. Lou. [ Goes to Bos.] No, you shall not — at least not till we have had a chat together. I am the only person who has a right, to complain — and I have nothing to complain of. Sp. Angel ! Herb. A true woman ! Kit. The best in the world. Mrs. W. Too good for this earth. Hercules, [r. of Mrs. W., feeling in his pocket, aside/] And I gave away my last two comps for the great show to that duffer over there. \_Down l.] Bos. \_To Lou.] And you don't think badly of poor little me ! How is it possible ? Lou. Because your big blue eyes look me straight in the face — Bos. Ah, no ! it's because a good woman believes in goodness — and there's not one here — no, not one, I'm sure, that's honest, himself or herself — but will believe in the innocence of our Ha- roun al Raschid — Sp. And his own particular Arabian Nights. Curtain. /J