The Hunchback | Page 5

THE HUNCHBACK.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE. (AS ORIGINALLY PERFORMED AT
COVENT GARDEN IN 1832.)

Julia Miss F. KEMBLE. Helen Miss TAYLOR. Master Walter Mr. J. S.
KNOWLES. Sir Thomas Clifford Mr. C. KEMBLE. Lord Tinsel Mr.
WRENCH. Master Wilford Mr. J. MASON. Modus Mr. ABBOTT.
Master Heartwell Mr. EVANS. Gaylove Mr. HENRY. Fathom Mr.
MEADOWS. Thomas Mr. BARNES. Stephen Mr. PAYNE. Williams
Mr. IRWIN. Simpson Mr. BRADY. Waiter Mr. HEATH. Holdwell Mr.
BENDER. { Mr. J. COOPER. Servants { Mr. LOLLETT.

ACT I.

SCENE I.--A Tavern.

On one side SIR THOMAS CLIFFORD, at a table, with wine before
him; on the other, MASTER WILFORD, GAYLOVE, HOLDWELL,
and SIMPSON, likewise taking wine.
Wilf. Your wine, sirs! your wine! You do not justice to mine host of the
Three Tuns, nor credit to yourselves; I swear the beverage is good! It is
as palatable poison as you will purchase within a mile round Ludgate!
Drink, gentlemen; make free. You know I am a man of expectations;
and hold my money as light as the purse in which I carry it.
Gay. We drink, Master Wilford. Not a man of us has been chased as
yet.
Wilf. But you fill not fairly, sirs! Look at my measure! Wherefore a
large glass, if not for a large draught? Fill, I pray you, else let us drink
out of thimbles! This will never do for the friends of the nearest of kin
to the wealthiest peer in Britain.
Gay. We give you joy, Master Wilford, of the prospect of advancement
which has so unexpectedly opened to you.
Wilf. Unexpectedly indeed! But yesterday arrived the news that the
Earl's only son and heir had died; and to-day has the Earl himself been
seized with a mortal illness. His dissolution is looked for hourly; and I,
his cousin in only the third degree, known to him but to be unnoticed
by him--a decayed gentleman's son--glad of the title and revenues of a
scrivener's clerk--am the undoubted successor to his estates and
coronet.
Gay. Have you been sent for?
Wilf. No; but I have certified to his agent, Master Walter, the
Hunchback, my existence, and peculiar propinquity; and momentarily
expect him here.
Gay. Lives there anyone that may dispute your claim--I mean
vexatiously?

Wilf. Not a man, Master Gaylove. I am the sole remaining branch of
the family tree.
Gay. Doubtless you look for much happiness from this change of
fortune?
Wilf. A world! Three things have I an especial passion for. The finest
hound, the finest horse, and the finest wife in the kingdom, Master
Gaylove!
Gay. The finest wife?
Wilf. Yes, sir; I marry. Once the earldom comes into my line, I shall
take measures to perpetuate its remaining there. I marry, sir! I do not
say that I shall love. My heart has changed mistresses too often to settle
down in one servitude now, sir. But fill, I pray you, friends. This, if I
mistake not, is the day whence I shall date my new fortunes; and, for
that reason, hither have I invited you, that, having been so long my
boon companions, you shall be the first to congratulate me.
[Enter Waiter]
Waiter. You are wanted, Master Wilford.
Wilf. By whom?
Waiter. One Master Walter.
Wilf. His lordship's agent! News, sirs! Show him in!
[Waiter goes out]
My heart's a prophet, sirs--The Earl is dead.
[Enter MASTER WALTER]
Well, Master Walter. How accost you me?
Wal. As your impatience shows me you would have me. My Lord, the

Earl of Rochdale!
Gay. Give you joy!
Hold. All happiness, my lord!
Simp. Long life and health unto your lordship!
Gay. Come! We'll drink to his lordship's health! 'Tis two o'clock, We'll
e'en carouse till midnight! Health, my lord!
Hold. My lord, much joy to you!
Simp. All good to your lordship!
Wal. Give something to the dead!
Gay. Give what?
Wal. Respect! He has made the living! First to him that's gone, Say
"Peace!"--and then with decency to revels!
Gay. What means the knave by revels?
Wal. Knave?
Gay. Ay, knave!
Wal. Go to! Thou'rt flushed with wine!
Gay. Thou sayest false! Though didst thou need a proof thou speakest
true, I'd give thee one. Thou seest but one lord here, And I see two!
Wal. Reflect'st thou on my shape? Thou art a villain!
Gay. [Starting up.] Ha!
Wal. A coward, too! Draw!

[Drawing his sword.]
Gay. Only mark him! how he struts about! How laughs his straight
sword at his noble back.
Wal. Does it? It cuffs thee for a liar then!
[Strikes GAYLOVE with his sword.]
Gay. A blow!
Wal. Another, lest you doubt the first!
Gay. His blood on his own head! I'm for you, sir!
[Draws.]
Clif. Hold, sir! This quarrel's mine!
[Coming forward and drawing.]
Wal. No man shall fight for