Single Life. Buckstone John Baldwin

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      Miss Sky. Oh, good morning, good people – didn’t expect to find any one here so early. I’ve got it for you, Mr. Niggle.

      Nig. Got what?

      Miss Sky. The song that you were trying to sing the other evening, “The Bay of Biscay,” you know you first got out of tune, then you broke down altogether. I have bought the correct copy for you, and, if you’ll allow me, I’ll teach it you. (Sings.) “As we lay, all that day, in the bay – ” that’s where you went astray, in the high note – “In the bay – ” You must practice it twenty times a day – “Of Biscay, O!”

      Nig. You’re very kind, indeed, miss; but this morning, I’ve no time to practice high notes. (Aside.) I must turn them all out by force.

      Miss Sky. Well, well, any other day then. I’ve a charming song for you, Mr. Damper, just suited to your deep bass. (Sings.) “While the wolf with nightly prowl” – An excellent song for you – you hate us women, you know; and, as the savage wolf howls at the sweet and silvery moon, so do you rail at us radiant creatures. Ah! good morning, Miss Snare, I’ve not forgotten you either; I’ve picked up an old ditty that will be the very thing for you. (Sings.) “Nobody coming to marry me, nobody coming to woo – wo – o – o – o – woo – o – ”

      Miss Sna. Insulting creature! (Regards her with every expression of contempt.)

      Dam. (Aside.) Poor Niggle’s in a hopeful way; one woman wants to teach him to sing “The Bay of Biscay,” and another is continually calling on him with pincushions. I must keep my eye upon him.

      Nig. (Aside.) Another ten minutes gone. What shall I do? (Looks at his watch.)

      Miss Sky. Oh, what do you think, while I was in the music-shop this morning, I heard such scandal; it seems to be all over the town. I never was so shocked in all my life – and of a lady, too, that we always considered so very correct in her conduct.

      Miss Sna. Do you allude to Miss Coy?

      Miss Sky. I do.

      Dam. What, have you heard? so have I.

      Nig. (Looking anxiously from one to another.) What? what?

       Miss Sky. I cant repeat it, especially as she’s an acquaintance; were it a stranger, I should not hesitate; but to retail anything against one’s friends, is so ungenerous.

      Dam. Come here. Was it that she —(Whispers.)

      Miss Sky. Yes. Could you have believed it?

      Dam. Oh, woman, woman, just like you.

      Miss Sna. I think I can guess the nature of the report – quite a full-grown young man, I hear.

      Dam. Quite full-grown – five-and-twenty.

      Miss Sna. Shocking! shocking!

      Miss Sky. Dreadful!

      Dam. Horrible!

      Nig. What is it? Am I to be the only person in ignorance of anything derogatory to the reputation of Miss Coy?

      Miss Sky. The fact is, Mr. Niggle, we don’t wish to wound your feelings. Oh, you sly man, do you think your attentions to Miss Coy, have passed unnoticed. Gallanting her home from parties, running of errands for her, sitting on a post opposite to her window of an evening, when the weather has been mild enough, taking walks, and taking tea, and playing at double dummy by moonlight. Oh, shocking! shocking! (Sings.) “Can love be controlled by advice? Will Cupid his mother obey.”

      Nig. Pray don’t be musical at such a moment, miss, pray, don’t. One shakes her head and cries “shocking,” another ejaculates “dreadful,” while Damper sums up all by a growl of “horrible,” and giving a violent hint of Miss Coy and some full grown young man. Now, what is it? Not that I particularly wish to know; because curiosity is a foible that I detest. Not that it at all concerns me, the least in the world – the least in the world. What is it?

      Miss Sky. Don’t tell him.

      Dam. You’re not going to make a fool of yourself in that quarter, are you? Think how many times I have saved you from perdition! Tell me if you are: I am your friend you know, and I’ll never forsake you.

      Miss Sky. Nay, Mr. Damper, if his fancy is fixed there, why should he not gratify it? Miss Coy is still a handsome woman, past the summer of her existence, certainly; but what I call a fine autumnal maiden.

      Nig. So she is; and if I do possess a preference for any female, I certainly admire one at that season of life: when her charms are in the richest state of perfection. None of your just budding April misses for me; who, after all, may turn out to be very indifferent blossoms.

      Dam. Ah! your autumnal maiden is so near a neighbour of your wintery one, that when you have folded the full blown blossom to your heart, you will find to your dismay, that all its leaves are falling at your feet; but I understand your rhapsody – you have betrayed yourself, and now I ask you a plain question – are you going to be married?

       Nig. To make a plain reply, what is it to you? (Knocking without.) Another call, what shall I do? How the time is getting on – my only chance is to drop out of the window into the road.

      Boss. Mr. Niggle at home? Oh, very well. [Enters.] Good morning to you, Niggle. Ah! Damper, you here. (Crosses to C.) Ladies, your most obedient, I dropped in to see my friend. Mr. Niggle, the strangest bit of gossip you ever heard – while I was at my tailor’s, suggesting an alteration in my arm-holes – clumsy fellow has made me thirty coats and can’t fit me yet.

      Dam. Never mind your tailor – what of the gossip?

      Boss. I don’t think I’m justified in publicly retailing it; but my operative assured me on his honor as a man, that he had heard it, and as I know our friend Niggle is interested in the party scandalized, I thought it but friendly to call and drop him a hint of what I have heard.

      Miss Sky. (Crossing to him and whispering.) Of Miss Coy?

      Boss. Yes, what have you heard?

      Miss Sky. I have indeed.

      Miss Sna. Relating to the party you alluded to, Miss Skylark?

      Miss Sky. The very same!

      Dam. Come, come, speak out; what is the use of mystery? You allude to Miss Coy?

      Boss. I do.

      Nig. Well, well, what is it? If it is so very horrible, what is it? Eh? eh? eh? (To each of them; they all shake their heads and sigh.) Oh, well, well, if you don’t choose to tell me, keep the matter to yourself; why call here dropping your hints? Why should I concern myself about that lady, or what may be said of her? hey? eh? Ah, indeed, why? As for you, Mr. David, listen to me: it was all very well СКАЧАТЬ