Olla Podrida

Clem. I will, dear uncle. (Pours out the restorative mixture in a glass.)

Jel. (going back.) You will, Miss,—indeed! but you shan’t.

Clem. Be quiet, Mrs Jellybags;—allow me at least to do something for my poor uncle.

Clem. Give me the mix—

Jel. (prevents Clementina from giving it, and tries to take it from her.) You shan’t, Miss!—You never shall.

Cad. Give me the —

(Mrs Jellybags and Clementina scuffle, at last Clementina throws the contents of the glass into Mrs Jellybags’s face.)

Clem. There, then!—since you will have it.

Jel. (in a rage.) You little minx!—I’ll be revenged for that. Wait a little till the will is read,—that’s all;—See if I don’t bundle you out of doors,—that I will.

Clem. As you please, Mrs Jellybags; but pray give my poor uncle his restorative mixture.

Jel. To please you?—Not I! I’ll not give him a drop till I think proper. Little, infamous, good-for-nothing—

Cad. Give me—oh!

Jel. Saucy—man-seeking—

Clem. Oh! as for that, Mrs Jellybags, the big sergeant was here last night—I know that. Talk of men indeed!

Jel. Very well, Miss!—very well! Stop till the breath is out of your uncle’s body—and I’ll beat you till your’s is also.

Cad. Give—oh!

Clem. My poor uncle! He will have no help till I leave the room—I must go. Infamous woman! Exit.

Cad. Oh!

Jel. I’m in such a rage!—I could tear her to pieces!—the little!—the gnat! Oh, I’ll be revenged! Stop till the will is read, and then I’ll turn her out into the streets to starve. Yes! yes! the will!—the will! (Pauses and pants for breath.) Now, I recollect the old fellow called for his mixture. I must go and get some mere. I’ll teach her to throw physic in my face.

(Goes out and returns with a phial—pours out a portion, and goes up to Mr Cadaverous.)

Jel. Here, my dear Mr Cadaverous. Mercy on me!—Mr Cadaverous!—why, he’s fainted!—Mr Cadaverous! (Screams.) Lord help us!—why, he’s dead! Well now, this sort of thing does give one a shock, even when one has longed for it. Yes, he’s quite dead! (Coming forward.) So, there’s an end of all his troubles—and, thank Heaven! of mine also. Now for Sergeant-major O’Callaghan, and—love! Now for Miss Clementina, and—revenge? But first the will!—the will!

Curtain drops
Act 3Mrs Jellybags

Oh dear!—this is a very long morning. I feel such suspense—such anxiety; and poor Sergeant-major O’Callaghan is quite in a perspiration! He is drinking and smoking down in the kitchen to pass away the time, and if the lawyer don’t come soon, the dear man will be quite fuddled. He talks of buying a farm in the country. Well, we shall see; but if the Sergeant thinks that he will make ducks and drakes of my money, he is mistaken. I have not been three times a widow for nothing—I will have it all settled upon myself; that must and shall be, or else—no Sergeant O’Callaghan for me!

Enter Clementina

So, here you are, Miss. We’ll wait till the will is read, and then we shall see who is mistress here.

Clem. I am as anxious as you, Mrs Jellybags. You may have wheedled my poor uncle to make up the will in your favour; if so, depend upon it, I shall expect nothing from your hands.

Jel. I should rather think not, Miss. If I recollect right, you threw the carminative mixture in my face.

Clem. And made you blush for the first time in your life.

Jel. I shall not blush to slam the door in your face.

Clem. Rather than be indebted to you, I would beg my bread from door to door.

Jel. I expect that you very soon will.

Enter Edward

Edw. My dearest Clementina, I have come to support you on this trying occasion.

Jel. And ascertain how matters stand, before you decide upon marrying, I presume, Mr Edward.

Edw. Madam, I am above all pecuniary considerations.

Jel. So everybody says, when they think themselves sure of money.

Edw. You judge of others by yourself.

Jel. Perhaps I do—I certainly do expect to be rewarded for my long and faithful services.

Clem. Do not waste words upon her, my dear.—You have my solemn promise; nothing shall change my feeling towards you.

Jel. That may be; but did it never occur to you, Miss, that the gentleman’s feelings might alter?

Edw. Detestable wretch!

(Hands Clementina to a chair on the right, and sits by her. Enter Nephews John, Thomas, William, and James, all with white pocket-handkerchiefs in their hands—they take their seats two right and two left.)

Jel. (aside.) Here they all come, like crows that smell carrion. How odious is the selfishness of this world! But here is Mr Gumarabic. How do you do, Sir? (Curtsies with a grave air.)

Gum. Very well, I thank you, Mrs Jellybags. Can’t say the—same of all my patients. Just happened to pass by—thought I would step in and hear the will read—odd, that I should pop in at the time—very odd. Pray, may I ask, my dear Mrs Jellybags, were you present at the making of the will?

Jel. No, my dear sir; my nerves would not permit me.

Gum. Nerves!—odd, very odd! Then you don’t know how things are settled?

Jel. No more than the man in the moon, my dear sir.

Gum. Man in the moon!—odd comparison that from a woman!—very odd! Hope my chance won’t prove all moonshine.

Jel. I should think not, my dear sir; but here comes Mr Seedy, and we shall know all about it.

(Enter Mr Seedy—Mrs Jellybags, all courtesy, waves her hand to a chair in the centre, with a table before it. Mr Seedy sits down, pulls the will out of his pocket, lays it on the table, takes out his snuff-box, takes a pinch, then his handkerchief, blows his nose, snuffs the candles, takes his spectacles from his waistcoat pocket, puts them on, breaks the seals, and bows to the company: Mrs Jellybags has taken her seat on the left next to him, and Dr Gumarabic by her side. Mrs Jellybags sobs very loud, with her handkerchief to her face.)

Seedy . Silence, if you please.

(Mrs Jellybags stops sobbing immediately.)

Edw. (putting his arm round Clementina’s waist.) My dearest Clementina!

(Mr Seedy hems twice, and then reads,—)

“The last Will and Testament of Christopher Cadaverous, Gentleman, of Copse horton, in the County of Cumberland.

“I, Christopher Cadaverous, being at this time in sound mind, do hereby make my last will and testament.

“First, I pray that I may be forgiven all my manifold sins and wickedness, and I do beg forgiveness of all those whom I may have injured unintentionally or otherwise; and at the same time do pardon all those who may have done me wrong, even to John Jones, the turnpike man, who unjustly made me pay the threepenny toll twice over on Easter last, when I went up to receive my dividends.

“My property, personal and real, I devise to my two friends, Solomon Lazarus, residing at Number 3, Lower Thames-street, and Hezekiah Flint, residing at Number 16, Lothbury, to have and to hold for the following uses and purposes:—

“First, to my dearly beloved niece, Clementina Montagu, I leave the sum of one hundred and fifty pounds, three and a half per cent consols, for her sole use and benefit, to be made over to her, both principal and interest, on the day of her marriage.” (Edward withdraws his arm from Clementina’s waist—turns half round from her, and falls back in his chair with a pish!)

“To my nephew, Thomas Montagu, I leave the sum of nineteen pounds nineteen shilling and sixpence—having deducted the other sixpence to avoid the legacy duty.”

(Thomas turns from the lawyer with his face to the front of the stage; crossing his legs.)

“To my nephew, John Montagu, I leave also the sum of nineteen pounds nineteen shillings and sixpence.”

(John turns away in the same manner.)

“To my nephew, once removed, James Stirling, I leave the sum of five pounds to purchase a suit of mourning.”

(James turns away as the others.)

“To my nephew, once removed, William Stirling, I leave the sum of five pounds to purchase a suit of mourning.”

(William turns away as the others.)

“To my kind and affectionate housekeeper, Mrs Martha Jellybags—”

(Mrs Jellybags sobs loudly, and cries “Oh dear! Oh dear!”)

Mr Seedy. Silence, if you please. (Reads.)

“In return for all her attention to me during my illness, and her ten years’ service, I leave the whole of my—”

(Mr Seedy having come to the bottom of the page lays down the will, takes out his snuff-box, takes a pinch, blows his nose, snuffs the candles, and proceeds.)

“I leave the whole of my wardrobe, for her entire use and disposal; and also my silver watch with my key and seal hanging to it.

“And having thus provided for—”

(Mrs Jellybags, who has been listening attentively, interrupts Mr Seedy in great agitation.)

Jel. Will you be pleased to read that part over again?

Seedy . Certainly, ma’am. “I leave the whole of my wardrobe, and also my silver watch, with the key and seal hanging to it.”

(Mrs Jellybags screams, and falls back in a swoon on her chair—no one assists her.)

“And having thus provided for all my relations, I do hereby devise the rest of my property to the said Solomon Lazarus and Hezekiah Flint, to have and to hold for the building and endowment of an hospital for diseases of the heart, lights, liver, and spleen, as set off by the provisions in the schedule annexed to my will as part and codicil to it.”

Seedy . Would the relations like me to read the provisions?

Omnes . No! no! no!

(Mr Seedy is about to fold up the papers.)

Gum. I beg your pardon, sir, but is there no other codicil?

Seedy . I beg your pardon, Mr Gumarabic, I recollect now there is one relative to you.

Gum. (nods his head.) I thought so.

(Seedy reads.)

“And whereas I consider that my apothecary, Mr Haustus Gumarabic, hath sent in much unnecessary physic, during my long illness—it is my earnest request that my executors will not fail to tax his bill.”

Gum. (rises and comes forward.) Tax my bill!—well that is odd, very odd! I may as well go and look after my patients. (Exit.)

(James and William come forward.)

James . I say, Bill, how are you off for a suit of mourning?

Will. Thanky for nothing, Jem. If the old gentleman don’t go to heaven until I put it on, he will be in a very bad way. Come along, it’s no use staying here.

(John and Thomas come forward.)

John . I say, Tom, how are you off for nineteen pounds nineteen and six? Heh!

Thos. Let’s toss and see which shall have both legacies. Here goes—heads or tails?

John . Woman for ever.

Thos. You’ve won, so there’s an end of not only my expectations but realities. Come along, Mrs Jellybags must be anxious to look over her wardrobe.

John . Yes, and also the silver watch and the key and seal hanging to it. Good bye, Jemmy! Ha! ha!

(Exeunt, laughing.)

Clem. For shame, John. (Turns to Edward.) My dear Edward, do not appear so downcast. I acknowledge that I am myself much mortified and disappointed—but we must submit to circumstances. What did I tell you before this will was read?—that nothing could alter my feelings towards you, did I not?

Edw. (with indifference.) Yes.

Clem. Why then annoy yourself, my dear Edward?

Edw. The confounded old junks!

Clem. Nay, Edward, recollect that he is dead—I can forgive him.

Edw. But I won’t. Has he not dashed my cup of bliss to the ground? Heavens! what delightful anticipations I had formed of possessing you and competence—all gone!

Clem. All gone, dear Edward?

(Mrs Jellybags, who has been sitting very still, takes her handkerchief from her eyes and listens.)

Edw. Yes, gone!—gone for ever! Do you imagine, my ever dear Clementina, that I would be so base, so cruel, so regardless of you and your welfare, to entrap you into marriage with only one hundred and fifty pounds! No, no!—judge me better. I sacrifice myself—my happiness—all for you!—banish myself from your dear presence, and retire to pass the remainder of my existence in misery and regret, maddened with the feeling that some happier mortal will obtain that dear hand, and will rejoice in the possession of those charms which I had too fondly, too credulously, imagined as certain to be mine.

(Takes out his handkerchief and covers his face; Clementina also puts her handkerchief to her face and weeps. Mrs Jellybags nods her head ironically.)

Clem. Edward!

Edw. My dear, dear Clementina!

Clem. You won’t have me?

Edw. My honour forbids it. If you knew my feelings—how this poor heart is racked!

Clem. Don’t leave me, Edward. Did you not say that for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, you would be mine, till death did us part?

Edw. Did I!

Clem. You know you did, Edward.

Edw. It’s astonishing how much nonsense we talk when in love. My dearest Clementina, let us be rational. We are almost without a sixpence. There is an old adage, that when poverty comes in at the door, love flies out of the window. Shall I then make you miserable! No! no! Hear me, Clementina. I will be generous. I now absolve you from all your vows. You are free. Should the time ever come that prosperity shine upon me, and I find that I have sufficient for both of us of that dross which I despise, then will I return, and, should my Clementina not have entered into any other engagement, throw my fortune and my person at her feet. Till then, dearest Clementina, farewell!

Clem. (sinking into a chair sobbing.) Cruel Edward! Oh, my heart will break!

Edw. I can bear it myself no longer. Farewell! farewell! (Exit.)

Jel. (coming forward.) Well, this is some comfort.—(To Clementina.) Did I not tell you, Miss, that if you did not change your mind, others might?

Clem. Leave me, leave me.

Jel. No, I shan’t; I have as good a right here as you, at all events. I shall stay, Miss.

Clem. (rising.) Stay then—but I shall not. Oh, Edward! Edward! (Exit, weeping.)

Jel. (alone.) Well, I really thought I should have burst—to be forced not to allow people to suppose that I cared, when I should like to tear the old wretch out of his coffin to beat him. His wardrobe! If people knew his wardrobe as well as I do, who have been patching at it these last ten years—not a shirt or a stocking that would fetch sixpence! And as for his other garments, why a Jew would hardly put them into his bag! (Crying.) Oh dear! oh dear! After all, I’m just like Miss Clementina; for Sergeant O’Callaghan, when he knows all this, will as surely walk off without beat of drum, as did Mr Edward—and that too with all the money I have lent him. Oh these men! these men!—whether they are living or dying there is nothing in them but treachery and disappointment! When they pretend to be in love, they only are trying for your money; and even when they make their wills, they leave to those behind them nothing but ill-will.

(Exit, crying, off the stage as the curtain falls.)

Chapter Forty Four

The Sky-Blue Domino

It was a flue autumnal evening; I had been walking with a friend until dusk on the Piazza Grande, or principal square in the town of Lucca. We had been conversing of England, our own country, from which I had then banished myself for nearly four years, having taken up my residence in Italy to fortify a weak constitution, and having remained there long after it was requisite for my health from an attachment to its pure sky, and the dolce far niente which so wins upon you in that luxurious climate. We had communicated to each other the contents of our respective letters arrived by the last mail; had talked over politics, great men, acquaintances, friends and kindred; and, tired of conversation, had both sank into a pleasing reverie as we watched the stars twinkling above us, when my friend rose hastily and bid me good night.

“Where are you going, Albert?” inquired I.

“I had nearly forgotten I had an appointment this evening. I promised to meet somebody at the Marquesa di Cesto’s masquerade.”

“Pshaw! are you not tired of these things?” replied I; “that eternal round of black masks and dominos of all colours; heavy harlequins, fools and clowns by nature wearing their proper dresses there, and only in masquerade when out of it; nuns who have no holiness in their ideas, friars without a spice of religion, ugly Venuses, Dianas without chastity, and Hebes as old as your grandmother.”

“All very true, Herbert, and life itself is masquerade enough; but the fact is, that I have an appointment: it is of importance, and I must not fail.”

“Well, I wish you more amusement than I have generally extracted from these burlesque meetings,” replied I. “Adieu, and may you be successful!” And Albert hastened away.

I remained another half hour reclining on the bench, and then returned to my lodgings. My servant Antonio lighted the candle and withdrew. On the table lay a note; it was an invitation from the Marquesa. I threw it on one side and took up a book, one that required reflection and deep examination; but the rattling of the wheels of the carriages as they whirled along past my window would not permit me to command my attention. I threw down the book; and taking a chair at the window, watched the carriages full of masks as they rolled past, apparently so eager in the pursuit of pleasure. I was in a cynical humour. What fools, thought I, and yet what numbers will be there; there will be an immense crowd; and what can be the assignation which Albert said was of such consequence? Such was my reflection for the next ten minutes, during which at least fifty carriages and other vehicles had passed in review before me.

And then I thought of the princely fortune of the Marquesa, the splendid palazzo at which the masquerade was given, and the brilliant scene which would take place.

“The Grand Duke is to be there, and everybody of distinction in Lucca. I have a great mind to go myself.”

A few minutes more elapsed. I felt that I was lonely, and I made up my mind that I would go. I turned from the window and rang the bell.

“Antonio, see if you can procure me a domino, a dark-coloured one if possible; and tell Carlo to bring the carriage round as soon as he can.”

Antonio departed, and was away so long that the carriage was at the door previous to his return.

“Signor, I am sorry, very, very sorry; but I have run to every shop in Lucca, and there is nothing left but a sky-blue domino, which I have brought with me.”

“Sky-blue! why, there will not be two sky-blue dominos in the whole masquerade: I might as well tell my name at once, I shall be so conspicuous.”

“You are as well hidden under a sky-blue domino as a black one, Signor, if you choose to keep your own secrets,” observed Antonio.

“Very true,” replied I, “give me my mask.”

Enshrouding myself in the sky-blue domino, I went down the stairs, threw myself into the carriage, and directed Carlo to drive to the palazzo of the Marquesa.

In half an hour we arrived at the entrance-gates of the Marquesa’s superb country seat. From these gates to the palazzo, a sweep of several hundred yards, the avenue though which the driver passed was loaded with variegated lamps, hanging in graceful festoons from branch to branch; and the notes of music from the vast entrance-hall of the palazzo floated through the still air. When I arrived at the area in front of the flight of marble steps which formed the entrance of the palazzo, I was astonished at the magnificence, the good taste, and the total disregard of expense which were exhibited. The palazzo itself appeared like the fabric built of diamonds and precious stones by the genii who obeyed the ring and lamp of Aladdin, so completely was its marble front hidden with a mass of many-coloured lamps, the reflection from whose galaxy of light rendered it bright as day for nearly one hundred yards around; various mottoes and transparencies were arranged in the walks nearest to the palazzo; and then all was dark, rendered still darker from the contrast with the flood of light which poured to a certain distance from the scene of festivity. Groups of characters and dominos were walking to and fro in every direction; most of them retracing their steps when they arrived at the sombre walks and alleys, some few pairs only continuing their route where no listeners were to be expected.

This is an animating scene, thought I, as the carriage stopped, and I am not sorry that I have made one of the party. As soon as I had descended, I walked up the flight of marble steps which led to the spacious hall in which the major part of the company were collected. The music had, for a moment, ceased to play; and finding that the perfume of the exotics which decorated the hall was too powerful, I was again descending the steps, when my hand was seized and warmly pressed by one in a violet-coloured domino.