The Wolves and the Lamb | Page 6

her; as we went to Florence, had we been attacked by twenty thousand brigands, this little arm had courage for them all! And if I loved thee, Julia, was I wrong? and if I basked in thy beauty day and night, Julia, am I not a man? and if, before this Peri, this enchantress, this gazelle, I forgot poor little Mary Barlow, how could I help it? I say, how the doose could I help it?
Enter Lady KICKLEBURY, BULKELEY following with parcels and a spaniel.
LADY K.--Are the children and the governess come home?
JOHN.--Yes, my lady [in a perfectly altered tone].
LADY K.--Bulkeley, take those parcels to my sitting-room.
JOHN.--Get up, old stoopid. Push along, old daddylonglegs [aside to BULKELEY].
LADY K.--Does any one dine here to-day, Howell?
JOHN.--Captain Touchit, my lady.
LADY K.--He's always dining here.
JOHN.--My master's oldest friend.
LADY K.--Don't tell me. He comes from his club. He smells of smoke; he is a low, vulgar person. Send Pinhorn up to me when you go down stairs. [Exit Lady K.]
JOHN.--I know. Send Pinhorn to me, means, Send my bonny brown hair, and send my beautiful complexion, and send my figure--and, O Lord! O Lord! what an old tigress that is! What an old Hector! How she do twist Milliken round her thumb! He's born to be bullied by women: and I remember him henpecked--let's see, ever since--ever since the time of that little gloveress at Woodstock, whose picter poor Mrs. M. made such a noise about when she found it in the lumber-room. Heh! HER picture will be going into the lumber-room some day. M. must marry to get rid of his mother-in-law and mother over him: no man can stand it, not M. himself, who's a Job of a man. Isn't he, look at him! [As he has been speaking, the bell has rung, the Page has run to the garden-door, and MILLIKEN enters through the garden, laden with a hamper, band-box, and cricket- bat.]
MILLIKEN.--Why was the carriage not sent for me, Howell? There was no cab at the station, and I have had to toil all the way up the hill with these confounded parcels of my lady's.
JOHN.--I suppose the shower took off all the cabs, sir. When DID a man ever git a cab in a shower?--or a policeman at a pinch--or a friend when you wanted him--or anything at the right time, sir?
MILLIKEN.--But, sir, why didn't the carriage come, I say?
JOHN.--YOU know.
MILLIKEN.--How do you mean I know? confound your impudence!
JOHN.--Lady Kicklebury took it--your mother-in-law took it--went out a-visiting--Ham Common, Petersham, Twick'nam--doose knows where. She, and her footman, and her span'l dog.
MILLIKEN.--Well, sir, suppose her ladyship DID take the carriage? Hasn't she a perfect right? And if the carriage was gone, I want to know, John, why the devil the pony-chaise wasn't sent with the groom? Am I to bring a bonnet-box and a hamper of fish in my own hands, I should like to know?
JOHN.--Heh! [laughs.]
MILLIKEN.--Why do you grin, you Cheshire cat?
JOHN.--Your mother-in-law had the carriage; and your mother sent for the pony-chaise. Your Pa wanted to go and see the Wicar of Putney. Mr. Bonnington don't like walking when he can ride.
MILLIKEN.--And why shouldn't Mr. Bonnington ride, sir, as long as there's a carriage in my stable? Mr. Bonnington has had the gout, sir! Mr. Bonnington is a clergyman, and married to my mother. He has EVERY title to my respect.
JOHN.--And to your pony-chaise--yes, sir.
MILLIKEN.--And to everything he likes in this house, sir.
JOHN.--What a good fellow you are, sir! You'd give your head off your shoulders, that you would. Is the fish for dinner to-day? Band-box for my lady, I suppose, sir? [Looks in]--Turban, feathers, bugles, marabouts, spangles--doose knows what. Yes, it's for her ladyship. [To Page.] Charles, take this band-box to her ladyship's maid. [To his master.] What sauce would you like with the turbot? Lobster sauce or Hollandaise? Hollandaise is best-- most wholesome for you. Anybody besides Captain Touchit coming to dinner?
MILLIKEN.--No one that I know of.
JOHN.--Very good. Bring up a bottle of the brown hock? He likes the brown hock, Touchit does. [Exit JOHN.]
Enter Children. They run to MILLIKEN.
BOTH.--How d'you do, Papa! How do you do, Papa!
MILLIKEN.--Kiss your old father, Arabella. Come here, George-- What?
GEORGE.--Don't care for kissing--kissing's for gals. Have you brought me that bat from London?
MILLIKEN.--Yes. Here's the bat; and here's the ball [takes one from pocket]--and--
GEORGE.--Where's the wickets, Papa. O-o-o--where's the wickets? [howls.]
MILLIKEN.--My dear, darling boy! I left them at the office. What a silly papa I was to forget them! Parkins forgot them.
GEORGE.--Then turn him away, I say! Turn him away! [He stamps.]
MILLIKEN.--What! an old, faithful clerk and servant of your father and grandfather for thirty years past? An old man, who loves us all, and has nothing but our pay to live on?
ARABELLA.--Oh, you naughty boy!
GEORGE.--I ain't a naughty boy.
ARABELLA.--You are a