ACT V.

SCENE.--_The Prison House._

_Enter a CONSTABLE._

CONSTABLE. Leave off your singing, Mr. Punch, for I've come to make you sing on the wrong side of your mouth.

PUNCH. Why, who the devil are you?

CONSTABLE. Don't you know me?

PUNCH. No, and don't want to know you.

CONSTABLE. Oh, but you must: I am the constable.

PUNCH. And who sent for you?

CONSTABLE. I am sent for you.

PUNCH. I don't want constable. I can settle my own business without constable, I thank you. I don't want constable.

CONSTABLE. But the constable wants you.

PUNCH. The dickens he does! What for, pray?

CONSTABLE. You killed Mrs. Punch. You knocked her head off her shoulders.

PUNCH. What's that to you? If you stay here much longer, I'll serve you the same.

CONSTABLE. Don't tell me. You have committed murder, and I've a warrant for you.

PUNCH. And I've a warrant for you. (_PUNCH knocks him down, and dances and sings about the stage, to the tune of "_Green grow the Rushes O_."_)

_Enter an OFFICER, in a cocked hat with a cockade, and a long pigtail._

OFFICER. Stop your noise, my fine fellow.

PUNCH. Shan't.

OFFICER. I'm an officer.

PUNCH. Very well. Did I say you were not?

OFFICER. You must go with me. You killed your wife and child.

PUNCH. They were my own, I suppose; and I had a right to do what I liked with them.

OFFICER. We shall see that. I'm come to take you up.

PUNCH. And I'm come to take you down. (_PUNCH knocks him down, and sings and dances as before._)

_Enter JACK KETCH, in a fur cap. PUNCH, while dancing, runs up against him without seeing him._

PUNCH (_with some symptoms of alarm_). My dear sir, I beg you one thousand pardons: very sorry.

J. KETCH. Aye, you'll be sorry enough before I've done with you. Don't you know me?

PUNCH. Oh, sir, I know you very well, and I hope you very well, and Mrs. Ketch very well.

J. KETCH. Mr. Punch, you're a very bad man. Why did you kill Mrs. Punch?

PUNCH. In self-defence.

J. KETCH. That won't do.

PUNCH. She wanted to kill me.

J. KETCH. How?

PUNCH. With a stick.

J. KETCH. That's all gammon. You must come to prison; my name's Ketch.

PUNCH. _Ketch_ that then. (_PUNCH knocks down JACK KETCH, and continues to dance and sing._)

_Re-enter JACK KETCH._

J. KETCH. Mr. Punch, there is your gallows and likewise--(_retreats below._)

PUNCH. What do you call a likewise?

J. KETCH.[2] There is your coffin.

PUNCH. What that for, I wonder? Oh, dear, I see now: what one fool I was! That is large basket for the fruit be put into. (_he takes up coffin, runs with it two circles round the stage and slams it down on to KETCH'S head, depositing it with a bang down on to the stage._)

J. KETCH (_adjusting the rope of the gallows_). Mr. Punch, step this way and have some dinner!

PUNCH. Much obliged Mr. Ketch, but I have already taken dinner.

J. KETCH. Come, then, and have some nice ice-cream.

PUNCH. Thank you, Mr. Ketch, I don't take ice now; it is too cold.

J. KETCH. Then come and have a good supper.

PUNCH. I never eat suppers; they are not wholesome.

J. KETCH. Then step this way and be hanged.

PUNCH. I'll be hanged if I will.

J. KETCH. Come directly.

PUNCH. I can't; I've got one bone in my leg.

J. KETCH. And you've got one bone in your neck which must soon be broken; but no more delay, Mr. Punch; put your head through this loop.

PUNCH. Through there? What for?

J. KETCH. Aye, through there. (_he holds the loop open._)

PUNCH. What for? I don't know how.

J. KETCH. It is very easy: only put your head through here.

PUNCH. What, so? (_poking his head on one side of the noose._)

J. KETCH. No, no, here!

PUNCH. So, then? (_poking his head on the other side._)

J. KETCH. Not so, you fool.

PUNCH. Mind who you call fool: try if you can do it yourself. Only show me how, and I do it directly.

J. KETCH. Very well; I will. There, you stand just there and mind don't you move. (_he places PUNCH against the side-post of the stage_) Remember that you are not to move.

PUNCH. Oh, no; I'll never move.

J. KETCH (_about to put his head through the loop, noticing a little movement in PUNCH, says_) Ah, you moved.

PUNCH. Oh, no; I never moved.

J. KETCH. Now, Mr. Punch, you see my head, and you see this loop. Put it in so. (_putting his head through the noose._)

PUNCH. And pull it tight--so! (_he pulls the rope forcibly down, and hangs JACK KETCH_) Huzza! Huzza!

J. KETCH (_wriggling his arms and body vigorously about_). Golly, golly, Mr. Punch, what are you doing? Leave go the end of that rope.

PUNCH. Not if I knows it. I say, old boy, how do you feel? (_KETCH ceases his struggling, and dies. PUNCH leaves his body hanging and calls_) Joey! Joey!

_Enter JOEY._

JOEY. Why, Massa Punch, ye have been and hung the sheriff.

PUNCH. I know it. He wanted to hang me, and so I hung him.

JOEY. Was that so? Well, what are we to do with him now?

PUNCH. Take him down.

JOEY. That is so, Massa Punch. We will take his dead body down. (_they take him down, and remove the gallows._)

PUNCH. Put him in his coffin.

JOEY. Good, Mr. Punch. But why, massa, they have not made the coffin long enough!

PUNCH. Double him up.

JOEY. Ah! that is so. We will double him up. But, Massa Punch, he'll not go in the coffin now.

PUNCH. Well, ram him down. (_PUNCH fetches his club, and tucks him down and in._)

JOEY. And, massa, what will you do with him now?

PUNCH. Take him below. Lift.

JOEY. Oh, yes, massa; take him below--I lift (_PUNCH lifts his end of the coffin several inches above the stage; but JOEY is dancing at the other end._)

PUNCH. Why don't you lift?

JOEY. Oh, yes, massa; me lift my end up. (_but he still fools at lifting as before, whilst PUNCH raises his end high up._)

PUNCH. I say--are you going to lift?

JOEY. Oh, yes, massa; we'll both lift.

PUNCH. Lift, will you? (_PUNCH fetches his club, and gives JOEY three cracks on the head; repeats_) Lift, will you?

JOEY. Oh, yes, yes, Massa Punch! me will lift now--right away now. (_they raise the coffin, and carry it twice from end to end of the stage, singing_) Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!

[_Exeunt, with coffin._

_Re-enter PUNCH, who sings_:

They're out, they're out! I've done the trick! Jack Ketch is dead--I'm free; I do not care, now, if Old Nick Himself should come for me.

(_Goes off, and returns with a stick. He dances about beating time on the front of the stage, and singing to the tune of "_Green grow the rushes O_"_)

Right foll de riddle loll, I'm the boy to do 'em all. Here's a stick To thump Old Nick, If he, by chance, upon me call.

_Enter the DEMON. He just peeps in at the corner of the stage, and exit._

PUNCH (_much frightened, and retreating as far as he can_). Oh, dear! Oh, Lord! Talk of the demon, and he pops up his horns. There the old gentleman is, sure enough. (_a pause, and dead silence, whilst PUNCH continues to gaze at the spot where the DEMON appeared. The DEMON comes forward_) Good, kind Mr. Demon, I never did you any harm, but all the good in my power. There--don't come any nearer. How you do, sir? (_collecting courage_) I hope you and all your respectable family well? Much obliged for this visit. Good-morning! Should be sorry to keep you, for I know you have a great deal of business when you come to this city. (_the DEMON advances_) Oh, dear! What will become of me!

(_The DEMON darts at PUNCH, who escapes, and aims a blow at his enemy; the DEMON eludes it, as well as many others, laying his head on the platform, and slipping it rapidly backwards and forwards, so that PUNCH, instead of striking him, only repeatedly hits the boards._)

[_Exit DEMON._

PUNCH. He, he, he! (_laughing_) He's off! He knew which side his bread buttered on. He one deep, cunning devil.

(_PUNCH is alarmed by hearing a strange, supernatural, whirring noise, something like the rapid motion of fifty spinning wheels, and again retreats to the corner, fearfully waiting the event._)

_Re-enter the DEMON, with a stick. He makes up to PUNCH, who retreats round the back of the stage, and they stand eyeing one another, and fencing at opposite sides. At last the DEMON makes a blow at PUNCH, which tells on the back of his head._

PUNCH. Oh, my head! What is that for? Pray, Mr. Demon, let us be friends. (_the DEMON hits him again, and PUNCH begins to take it in dudgeon, and to grow angry_) Why, you must be one very stupid demon not to know your best friend when you see him. (_the DEMON hits him again_) Be quiet, I say, you hurt me! Well, if you won't, we must try which is the best man--Punch or the Demon.

(_Here commences a terrific combat between the DEMON and PUNCH; in the beginning, the latter has much the worst of it, being hit by his black adversary when and where he pleases. At last the DEMON seems to grow weary, and PUNCH succeeds in planting several heavy blows. The balance being restored, the fight is kept up for some time, and, towards the conclusion, PUNCH has the decided advantage, and drives his enemy before him. The DEMON is stunned by repeated blows on the head and horns, and falls forward on the platform, where PUNCH completes his victory, and knocks the breath out of his body. PUNCH then puts his staff up the DEMON'S black clothes, and whirls him round in the air, exclaiming: "_Huzza! huzza! the Demon's dead!_"_)