SCENE III.

THE STORE-ROOM.

CHARLES. Something better than a vault this, methinks. I could not have found a hiding-place more to my mind. Excellent cherry-brandy she makes, this Mrs. Judith. I have entered half a dozen professions since I entered this room; it will be hard if I do not make my fortune out of one of them. I am an Historian, for I have been discussing old dates; a Merchant, for I add plum to plum; a Lawyer, for I have opened many a case; a Lord Mayor, for the mace is before me; and a Navigator, for I am led to seize and gulf! What if I were to stay here altogether, or set up a new company with my fair hostesses? Miss Ratty is cut out for a tragedy Queen. Such passion! such emphasis! [_Mimicking._] ‘That my keen knife see not the wound it makes’--but the puzzle is that they are all ladies; not one to take a gentleman’s part. It is a shame in me to say so, for I am sure that they have taken mine. My only hope would be in Weasel. That fellow has such a desperate squint, that I am sure he would make a capital Lear!

_Enter HORATIA._

HORATIA. Fly! fly! while yet there is a moment’s respite.

CHARLES. Fly! and wherefore?

HORATIA. Rouse all the ancient courage of your race ...

CHARLES. There can be no courage in a race, for a race is running away.

HORATIA. Let the spirit of your Ancestors glow in your bosom, for the hour of danger is come.

CHARLES. ‘I dare do all that may become a man’ ...

HORATIA. Does this trifling become a man and a hero?

CHARLES. I know of but one thing, fair Ratty, that can become a man and a hero.

HORATIA. What is that?

CHARLES. A boy, to be sure!

HORATIA. Enough, enough of this perpetual play of words. We must think, we must act. Another is now taking your place at the vault ...

CHARLES. My place! how excessively obliging!

HORATIA. Every moment is invaluable. Put on this dress of my Aunt’s which I have brought for you, and fly, fly, while the deception lasts!

CHARLES. The brandy must have got into my head.

HORATIA. Put it on, I entreat you, if not for your own or your Country’s sake, yet for your noble Father’s.

CHARLES. My Father’s! Either you or I ... Why, what’s the matter with him? Is he in the farce too?

HORATIA. [_Aside._] He is the worse for liquor! O horrible! and at such a moment! [_Aloud._] The soldiers are here--sent to seize you--to drag you to a dungeon, perhaps an ignominious death.

CHARLES. [_Alarmed._] And why? what have I done?

HORATIA. I heard the orders given. One hour’s delay will lead you to the scaffold.

CHARLES. The scaffold!

HORATIA. The block.

CHARLES. The block! why, what is my crime? Why does not my Father come to my assistance?

HORATIA. Your Father cannot--he is exiled from his native land. Were he to appear, he must perish too.

CHARLES. Have you hid him? have you hid him?

HORATIA. [_Aside._] Horridly drunk! [_Aloud._] Put on this dress and fly. It is your only chance of life.

CHARLES. You have put me into a shiver. I cannot half believe, nor a quarter comprehend you.

HORATIA. Believe then these tears, this agony of apprehension in which you see me. This moment the soldiers may be mounting the staircase--cutting off all hope ...

CHARLES. Give me the slip then, and I will give them the slip! quick, quick, and the cloak and hood.

HORATIA. Here, here! O despatch! while you remain here I tread on hot iron.

CHARLES. I am to personate your Aunt.

HORATIA. Yes, yes, any one, but make haste.

CHARLES. So, I’m equipped. Farewell, Lady!

HORATIA. Pull the hood over your face. O farewell! [_Exit CHARLES._]

HORATIA. One hour more of excitement, and then ... [_Exit._]