a Comedietta,

IN ONE ACT.

BY

FELIX DALE, Esq.,

(Member of the Dramatic Authors' Society)

THOMAS HAILES LACY,

THEATRICAL PUBLISHER,

LONDON.

First performed at the Royal Olympic Theatre (Sole Lessee Mr. Benjamin Webster; Manager, Mr. Horace Wigan) on Friday, the 26th July, 1867.

JACK DEEDES (his Friend and Lawyer) Mr. H. J. MONTAGUE.

SIX MONTHS AGO.

SCENE.-Morning Room in a little Country House, prettily furnished; entrance door on garden, C.; doors, R. and L.; piano, with a vase on it, R.; work table, &c.; sofa, L.

At the rising of the Curtain EDWIN BLISS is lying on the sofa, L, with a newspaper, asleep-ANGELINA is at her work table, R. C., looking at him over her work.

ANGELINA. Asleep again; and at twelve o'clock in the day. Oh, this is too much! (strikes the table)

EDWIN. (waking with a start) I beg your pardon!

ANGEL. The same to you, my dear; sorry I disturbed you. EDWIN. As if I'd been asleep. I was only thinking.

ANGEL. Of course; and I oughtn't to have broken the thread of your valuable reflections. Edwin, you're bored!

EDWIN. My treasure, what an idea! Why, our life here is one of delirious excitement. The daily programme is quite sensational. First we get up-then comes our rural breakfasteggs, and cream of the purest description-arcadian but bilious; then a walk to admire the beauties of nature; lunch and the beauties of nature till dinner time; after dinner ditto repeated, with varieties of moonlight effect-when there is a moon. Oh, it's beautiful!

ANGEL. In plain English, you don't care for me any more. EDWIN. My dear child! as if the deepest love wasn't compatible with an occasional-yawn. (yawns—ANGELINA begins to cry) Oh lord! I'm off! (aside) Running water is one of the beauties of nature which I least appreciate. (rises)

ANGEL. (stopping him) Edwin, we had better come to an understanding at once.

EDWIN. What about? (goes back to sofa)
ANGEL. Oh, I mean it this time.

months to-day.

EDWIN. Not longer?

We've been married six

ANGEL. Haven't we lived all the time in this little place,

without a soul knowing where we were?

EDWIN. Oh yes.

ANGEL. Not a living being has disturbed our tête-à-tête.

EDWIN. Oh no.

ANGEL. Haven't I loved you all the time?
EDWIN. Oh yes.

ANGEL. And yet you're bored.

EDWIN. Oh no, not when it don't rain.

ANGEL. For shame, sir! But I'll bear it no longer.

We

both fancied we were in love: we were both mistaken; yes, sir, both. We'll go back to London, and there, perhaps, you'll be ha-happier. (bursts into tears, and walks away)

EDWIN. (who has risen, delighted at the idea, puts on a melancholy face) My darling, as if I should dream of leaving this Elysium. Ain't we like Adam and Eve before they were turned out of Eden? (aside) By the way, how glad Adam must have been when they were!

ANGEL. (smiling through her tears) Then you don't want to go? EDWIN. Not I: my only prayer is to live and die here. ANGEL. I only live for your love, Edwin.

EDWIN. That's all.

ANGEL. It would be so dreadful to lose it.

EDWIN. Horrid. Come and sit here, little woman, and tell us what's to be done to-day? (sits on arm chair, L. C., and seats her on a little stool by his side)

ANGEL. Yes, let's think of something.

EDWIN. By all means: something new.

ANGEL. I've thought! look how fine it is, love. Suppose we went into the woods.

EDWIN. What! Beauties of nature again?

ANGEL. Edwin, six months ago you were only too happy to spend all the day with me in the woods; is it all over then? EDWIN. All over! bless her little heart. Remember, there was an awful dew last night, and the ground's as wet as a sponge. ANGEL. An awful dew! six months ago you called it "the moisture of heaven."

EDWIN. Did I? what an ass I must have been! I say, Lina, is it near lunch-time?

ANGEL. Six months ago you never wanted lunch.
EDWIN. Come, I say, hang it. (rising)

ANGEL. (pushing him down) Sit down, naughty boy. I will put you in a good humour. I'm going to sit at your feet, and read to you, just as you used to read to me. (taking a book) EDWIN. (aside) Oh, ah! verses, I know.

ANGEL (opening her book) Tennyson.

EDWIN. Early Poems-page 16-"The Queen of the May"— please not.

ANGEL. Would you rather have

EDWIN. 66 Locksley Hall"-Ditto-page 45. No, thanks. ANGEL. (keeping her temper with an effort) Isn't his grand

Turkship hard to please to-day. But I think I know how to manage him. (goes to piano, R.)

EDWIN. (aside) Six to four on Faust! (ANGELINA begins the march) I knew it; Tum, tum-tum tiddy-ti-um ti-tum! I say, don't. I'm sick to death of it.

ANGEL. Will you have a song then? (begins "The Forsaken,*" when she reaches the words "He will return; I know he will," EDWIN stops her)

EDWIN. I know he will! I wish he wouldn't. Anything but that venerable lyric.

ANGEL. (angrily) I give it up then!_(jumps up, and slams the piano, nearly knocking off the vase-EDWIN runs up) EDWIN. Take care; take care! A little less violence, please. I'm particular about that vase.

ANGEL. I forgot. You wanted to box the housemaid's ears when she let it fall the other day and all but broke it. Perhaps you'd like to box mine.

EDWIN. My dear! "The man who lays his hand upon a woman," et cetera; though if anything would tempt me to disregard that novel and highly moral precept, it would be if this vase were smashed.

ANGEL. A Souvenir of some old love, no doubt. Was she pretty? What was her name?

EDWIN. Lina, for shame!

ANGEL. You never cared for me. Six months have been enough to shew you what a mistake you made.

EDWIN. By Jove, you'll make me believe you at last. (aring at the door bell) Hallo! who can that be? (aside) Can it be Jack? What a blessed relief if it is.

Enter SERVANT, C., gives him a card.

It is! "Mr. John Deedes, Lincoln's Inn." My old friend, and the best fellow in the world, Lina. Shew him in at once-and (to ANGELINA, aside) do look jolly, there's a darling.

ANGEL. (to SERVANT) Wait a moment! (to EDWIN) Then you mean this gentleman to come in?

EDWIN. Of course I do! Why?

ANGEL. Nobody was to have our address, I thought. How did he find us out?

EDWIN. (hesitating) Oh, some accident, I suppose. My dear, how can we possiby refuse to see him?

ANGEL. Then you persist? John, shew the stranger in! EDWIN. Lina, you're joking!

ANGEL. (deliberately) Shew-the-stranger-in! (SERVANT goes out, C.)

* Song composed by Miss Virginia Gabriel. Sold by all Music Publishers.