Part 5
_Han._ I know von man dot would gif a thousand dollars to hear dot.
_Lena._ You do?
_Han._ Yes; he vos stone deaf in poth eyes. But I say, Mr. Poet.
_Byron._ Say on, Lucullus.
_Han._ My name vos Hannis, not Bluecollars. But as I vos saying--don’t you think, Mr. Poet, dot three vos company, two vos a crowd?
_Byron._ What does the gifted bard of Avon say about that? Ah, now I remember!
Two lovers alone in silent joy, A blue-eyed maiden, a black-haired boy; It might be better, it could be worse, Another person would be a curse.
_Han._ Then vhy don’t you dake a tumbles and fly avay mit yourself?
_Byron._ I do not understand you.
_Lena._ Don’t mind him, Mr. Smith; I love your poetry.
_Byron._ Thanks; shall I give you another specimen?
_Han._ For heaven’s sake; hush!
_Lena._ Please do, Mr. Smith.
_Byron._ This is the seventeenth stanza of my lovely dirge, “Life.” There are three thousand and two more verses:
Life is a mockery, Life is a cheat----
_Han._ (_Interrupting._) Ven ve vos hungry, There’s nothing to eat!
_Byron._ What mean you, sir, by basely changing my lines?
_Han._ Pring an almanac und find oud. There vos a nice dog outside, Mr. Fresh.
_Byron._ A dog--a dog--a little dog, A puppy small, but sharp, Watching in all of puppyish glee, His master’s Hebrew harp.
_Han._ No, sir; he vosn’t vatching any harp. Just yer go oud und feel of his teeth to see how oldt he vos.
_Byron._ I am happy here.
_Han._ I vosn’t. Say, Mr. Poet, von day there vas a feller coom to see his gal.
_Byron._ Come to ask her would she marry, Begged her to no longer tarry, Love had marked her for his quarry.
_Han._ Dot vos id. Vell, there vos anudder veller.
_Byron._ Ah, yes:
A sneaking rival, hump-backed, old. With broad acres and heaps of gold.
_Han._ I could schwear to it. The sucker that I vas delling about, looked as if he vosn’t rich enough to puy a pound of air. Vell, he kept coming in und boddering dem lovers all the dime.
_Byron._ Base hell-hound.
_Han._ Dat might haf peen his name. But vot vould you haf done to dot Canarsie cod-fish?
_Byron._ I would have clutched him by the neck.
And hauled him down--down--down! And when they asked me where he was, Like the tempest’s howlings I’d repeat, “Down--down in hell! ’Twas there I sent him!”
_Han._ You vould do dot?
_Byron._ Assuredly.
_Han._ Mr. Gall, I vill take your vord at you! (_Jumps up and seizes_ Byron.) I pounced him up--up--up! Und vhen dey send me a postal card asking vhere he vos, I repeaded like a dempest howl: “Send him a linen duster, he need it.” [_Biz. of struggle._ Hannis _gets_ Byron _down, and stands on him_. Lena _rushes forward, sinks on her knees by his side_.]
_Lena._ Spare him, Hannis.
_Han._ Queen Elizabeth Tilton, interceding for the life of Owen Murphy. [_Tableau._
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
The author for this book is listed in other sources as Aaron A. Warford.
Some advertising is likely missing from this transcription because the source copy was missing its back cover.
Punctuation has been made consistent.
Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
The following changes were made:
The notation 1 2 for fractions was changed to 1/2.
p. 9: Sentence was moved to this page from p. 13 (_Hope_ is like _love_, but subdued.)
p. 12: Table labled “‘BLACK SLAYER.’ _Scene Plot._ ACT FIRST.” was moved to this page from p. 13.
p. 13: Table labled “‘BLACK SLAYER.’ PROPS.” and the paragraphs immediately above and below the table were moved to this page from pp. 10-11.
p. 45: _Pete._ changed to (_Pete._) ((_Pete._) My own Rebecca,)
End of Project Gutenberg's How to Become an Actor, by Aaron A. Warford