Chapter 46

Enter Susan, showing in Hyacinth Adonis Brown (Coleman), dressed as a caricature of the fashion, with lemon-coloured kid gloves, staring-patterned trousers, sporting-coat, etc.

Susan. This is the settin'-room, if you please, sir. Hyacinth (fixing his glass in his eye, and scrutinising the apartment). This is the settin'-woom, is it? to set, to incubate as a hen--can't mean that, I imagine--provincial idiom, pwobably--aw--ya'as--I dare say I shall be able to exist in it as long as may be necessary--ar--let me have dinnaar, young woman, as soon as it can be got weady.

Susan. Yes, sir. What would you please to like, sir?

~347~~ Hyacinth (looking at her with his glass still in his eye). Hem! pwetty gal--ar--like, my dear, like?--(vewy pwetty gal!)

Susan. Beg pardon, sir, what did you say you would like?

Hyacinth. Chickens tender here, my dear?

Susan. Very tender, sir.

Hyacinth (approaching her). What's your name, my dear?

Susan. Susan, if you please, sir.

Hyacinth. Vewy pwetty name, indeed--(aside, Gal's worth cultivating--I'll do a little bit of fascination). Ahem! Chickens, Susan, are not the only things that can be tendar. (Advances, and attempts to take lier hand. Enter John hastily, and runs against Hyacinth, apparently by accident.)

Hyacinth (angrily). Now, fellar, where are you pushing to, eh?

John. Beg parding, sir, I was a-looking for you, sir. (Places himself between Susan and Hyacinth.)

Hyacinth. Looking for me, fellar?

John. I ha' rubbed down your horse, sir, and I was a wishin' to know when you would like him fed. (Makes signs to Susan to leave the room.)

Hyacinth. Fed?--aw!--directly to be su-ar. (To Susan, who is going out.) Ar--don't you go.

John. No, sir, I ain't a-going. When shall I water him, sir?

Hyacinth (aside, Fellar talks as if the animal were a pot of mignonette). Ar--you'll give him some wataar as soon as he's eaten his dinnaar.

John. Werry good, sir; and how about hay, sir?

Hyacinth (aside, What a bo-ar the fellar is; I wish he'd take himself off). Weally, I must leave the hay to your discwession.

John. Werry well, sir; couldn't do a better thing, sir. How about his clothing? shall I keep a cloth on him, sir? (Winks at Susan, who goes out laughing.)

Hyacinth. Yaas! You can keep a cloth on--ar--and--that will do. (Waves his hand towards the door.)

John. Do you like his feet stopped at night, sir?

Hyacinth. Ar--I leave all these points to my gwoom--ar--would you go?

John. I suppose there will be no harm in water-brushing his mane?

Hyacinth (angrily). Ar--weally I--ar--will you go?

John. Becos some folks thinks it makes the hair come off.

~348~~ Hyacinth (indignantly). Ar--leave the woom, fellar! John. Yes, sir; you may depend upon me takin' proper care of him, sir; and if I should think o' anything else, I'll be sure to come and ask you, sir. (Goes out grinning.)

Hyacinth. Howwid fellar--I thought I should never get wid of him--it's evident he's jealous--ar, good idea--I'll give him something to be jealous about. I'll wing the bell and finish captivating Susan. (Rings. Re-enter John.) John. Want me, sir? Here I am, sir--fed the horse, sir.

Hyacinth (waving his hand angrily towards the door). Ar--go away, fellar, and tell the young woman to answaar that bell. (John leaves the room, muttering, If I do I'm blessed. Hyacinth struts up to the glass, arranges his hair, pulls up his shirt-collar, and rings again. Re-enter Susan.) Hyacinth. Pway, Susan, are you going to be mawwied? Susan (colouring). No, sir--a--yes, sir--I can't tell, sir.

Hyacinth. No, sir--yes, sir--ar--I see how it is--the idea has occurred to you--it's that fellar John, I suppose? Susan. Yes, sir--it's John, sir, if you please. Hyacinth. Well--ar--perhaps I don't exactly please. Now, listen to me, Susan. I'm an independent gentleman, vewy wich (aside, Wish I was)--lots of servants and cawwiages, and all that sort of thing. I only want a wife, and--a-hem--captivated by your beauty, I'm wesolved to mawwy you. (Aside. That will do the business.) Susan. La! sir, you're joking.

Hyacinth. Ar--I never joke--ar--of course you consent! Susan. To marry you, sir? Hyacinth. Ar--yes--to mawwy me. Susan. What! and give up John? Hyacinth. I fear we cannot dispense with that sacwifice.

Susan. And you would have me prove false to my true love; deceive a poor lad that cares for me; wring his honest heart, and perhaps drive him to take to evil courses, for the sake of your fine carriages and servants? No, sir, if you was a duke, I would not give up John to marry you.

Hyacinth. Vewy fine, you did that little bit of constancy in vewy good style; but now, having welievedyour feelings, you may as well do a little bit of nature, and own that, womanlike, you have changed your mind.

Susan. When I do, sir, I'll be sure to let you know. ~349~~ (Aside. A dandified fop! why, John's worth twenty such as him.) I'll send John in with your dinner, sir. [Curtsies and exit, leaving Hyacinth transfixed with astonishment.']