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41 pages

English

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pubOne.info present you this new edition. Scene. - MILLIKEN'S villa at Richmond; two drawing-rooms opening into one another. The late MRS. MILLIKEN'S portrait over the mantel-piece; bookcases, writing-tables, piano, newspapers, a handsomely furnished saloon. The back-room opens, with very large windows, on the lawn and pleasure-ground; gate, and wall- over which the heads of a cab and a carriage are seen, as persons arrive. Fruit, and a ladder on the walls. A door to the dining-room, another to the sleeping-apartments, &c.

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Publié par	Pub One Info
Date de parution	06 novembre 2010
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9782819943365
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0050€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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THE WOLVES AND THE LAMB
By William Makepeace Thackeray
DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
MR. HORACE MILLIKEN, a Widower, a wealthy CityMerchant.
GEORGE MILLIKEN, a Child, his Son.
CAPTAIN TOUCHIT, his Friend.
CLARENCE KICKLEBURY, brother to Milliken's lateWife.
JOHN HOWELL, M's Butler and confidentialServant.
CHARLES PAGE, Foot-boy.
BULKELEY, Lady Kicklebury's Servant.
MR. BONNINGTON.
Coachman, Cabman; a Bluecoat Boy, another Boy (Mrs.Prior's Sons).
LADY KICKLEBURY, Mother-in-law to Milliken.
MRS. BONNINGTON, Milliken's Mother (marriedagain).
MRS. PRIOR.
MISS PRIOR, her Daughter, Governess to Milliken'sChildren.
ARABELLA MILLIKEN, a Child.
MARY BARLOW, School-room Maid.
A grown-up Girl and Child of Mrs. Prior's, Lady K.'s Maid, Cook.
THE WOLVES AND THE LAMB.
ACT I.
Scene. — MILLIKEN'S villa at Richmond; twodrawing-rooms opening into one another. The late MRS. MILLIKEN'Sportrait over the mantel-piece; bookcases, writing-tables, piano,newspapers, a handsomely furnished saloon. The back-room opens,with very large windows, on the lawn and pleasure-ground; gate, andwall— over which the heads of a cab and a carriage are seen, aspersons arrive. Fruit, and a ladder on the walls. A door to thedining-room, another to the sleeping-apartments, and c.
JOHN. — Everybody out; governor in the city;governess (heigh-ho! ) walking in the Park with the children;ladyship gone out in the carriage. Let's sit down and have a lookat the papers. Buttons fetch the Morning Post out of LadyKicklebury's room. Where's the Daily News, sir?
PAGE. — Think it's in Milliken's room.
JOHN. — Milliken! you scoundrel! What do you mean byMilliken? Speak of your employer as your governor if you like; butnot as simple Milliken. Confound your impudence! you'll be callingme Howell next.
PAGE. — Well! I didn't know. YOU call himMilliken.
JOHN. — Because I know him, because I'm intimatewith him, because there's not a secret he has but I may have it forthe asking; because the letters addressed to Horace Milliken, Esq., might as well be addressed John Howell, Esq. , for I read 'em, Iput 'em away and docket 'em, and remember 'em. I know his affairsbetter than he does: his income to a shilling, pay his tradesmen,wear his coats if I like. I may call Mr. Milliken what I please;but not YOU, you little scamp of a clod-hopping ploughboy. Knowyour station and do your business, or you don't wear THEM buttonslong, I promise you. [Exit Page. ]
Let me go on with the paper [reads] .How brilliant this writing is! Times, Chronicle, Daily News,they're all good, blest if they ain't. How much better the nineleaders in them three daily papers is, than nine speeches in theHouse of Commons! Take a very best speech in the 'Ouse now, andcompare it with an article in The Times! I say, the newspaper hasthe best of it for philosophy, for wit, novelty, good sense too.And the party that writes the leading article is nobody, and thechap that speaks in the House of Commons is a hero. Lord, Lord, howthe world is 'umbugged! Pop'lar representation! what IS pop'larrepresentation? Dammy, it's a farce. Hallo! this article is stole!I remember a passage in Montesquieu uncommonly like it. [Goes and gets the book. As he is standing upon sofa to getit, and sitting down to read it, MISS PRIOR and the Children havecome in at the garden. Children pass across stage. MISS PRIORenters by open window, bringing flowers into the room.]
JOHN. — It IS like it. [He slaps the book,and seeing MISS PRIOR who enters, then jumps up from sofa, sayingvery respectfully, ]
JOHN. — I beg your pardon, Miss.
MISS P. — [sarcastically. ] Do Idisturb you, Howell?
JOHN. — Disturb! I have no right to say— a servanthas no right to be disturbed, but I hope I may be pardoned forventuring to look at a volume in the libery, Miss, just inreference to a newspaper harticle— that's all, Miss.
MISS P. — You are very fortunate in finding anythingto interest you in the paper, I'm sure.
JOHN. — Perhaps, Miss, you are not accustomed topolitical discussion, and ignorant of— ah— I beg your pardon: aservant, I know, has no right to speak. [Exit intodining-room, making a low bow. ]
MISS PRIOR. — The coolness of some people is reallyquite extraordinary! the airs they give themselves, the way inwhich they answer one, the books they read! Montesquieu: “Espritdes Lois! ” [takes book up which J. has left on sofa.] I believe the man has actually taken this from the shelf.I am sure Mr. Milliken, or her ladyship, never would. The other day“Helvetius” was found in Mr. Howell's pantry, forsooth! It iswonderful how he picked up French whilst we were abroad. “Espritdes Lois! ” what is it? it must be dreadfully stupid. And as forreading “Helvetius” (who, I suppose, was a Roman general), I reallycan't understand how— Dear, dear! what airs these persons givethemselves! What will come next? A footman— I beg Mr. Howell'spardon— a butler and confidential valet lolls on the drawing-roomsofa, and reads Montesquieu! Impudence! And add to this, he followsme for the last two or three months with eyes that are quitehorrid. What can the creature mean? But I forgot— I am only agoverness. A governess is not a lady— a governess is but a servant—a governess is to work and walk all day with the children, dine inthe school-room, and come to the drawing-room to play the man ofthe house to sleep. A governess is a domestic, only her place isnot the servants' hall, and she is paid not quite so well as thebutler who serves her her glass of wine. Odious! George! Arabella!there are those little wretches quarrelling again! [Exit.Children are heard calling out, and seen quarrelling in garden.]
JOHN [re-entering] . — See where shemoves! grace is in all her steps. 'Eaven in her high— no— a-heavenin her heye, in every gesture dignity and love— ah, I wish I couldsay it! I wish you may procure it, poor fool! She passes by me— shetr-r-amples on me. Here's the chair she sets in [kisses it.] Here's the piano she plays on. Pretty keys, them fingersout-hivories you! When she plays on it, I stand and listen at thedrawing-room door, and my heart thr-obs in time! Fool, fool, fool!why did you look on her, John Howell! why did you beat for her,busy heart! You were tranquil till you knew her! I thought I couldhave been a-happy with Mary till then. That girl's affectionsoothed me. Her conversation didn't amuse me much, her ideers ain'texactly elevated, but they are just and proper. Her attentionspleased me. She ever kep' the best cup of tea for me. She crispedmy buttered toast, or mixed my quiet tumbler for me, as I sat ofhevenings and read my newspaper in the kitching. She respected thesanctaty of my pantry. When I was a-studying there, she neverinterrupted me. She darned my stockings for me, she starched andfolded my chokers, and she sowed on the habsent buttons of whichtime and chance had bereft my linning. She has a good heart, Maryhas. I know she'd get up and black the boots for me of the coldestwinter mornings. She did when we was in humbler life, she did.
Enter MARY.
You have a good heart, Mary!
MARY. — Have I, dear John? [sadly.]
JOHN. — Yes, child— yes. I think a better never beatin woman's bosom. You're good to everybody— good to your parentswhom you send half your wages to: good to your employers whom younever robbed of a halfpenny.
MARY [whimpering] . — Yes, I did,John. I took the jelly when you were in bed with the influenza; andbrought you the pork-wine negus.
JOHN. — Port, not pork, child. Pork is the hanimalwhich Jews ab'or. Port is from Oporto in Portugal.
MARY [still crying] . — Yes, John; youknow everything a'most, John.
JOHN. — And you, poor child, but little! It's notheart you want, you little trump, it's education, Mary: it'sinformation: it's head, head, head! You can't learn. You never canlearn. Your ideers ain't no good. You never can hinterchange emwith mine. Conversation between us is impossible. It's not yourfault. Some people are born clever; some are born tall, I ain'ttall.
MARY. — Ho! you're big enough for me, John. [Offers to take his hand. ]
JOHN. — Let go my 'and— my a-hand, Mary! I say, somepeople are born with brains, and some with big figures. Look atthat great ass, Bulkeley, Lady K. 's man— the besotted, stupidbeast! He's as big as a life-guardsman, but he ain't no moreeducation nor ideers than the ox he feeds on.
MARY. — Law, John, whatever do you mean?
JOHN. — Hm! you know not, little one! you never canknow. Have YOU ever felt the pangs of imprisoned genius? have YOUever felt what 'tis to be a slave?
MARY. — Not in a free country, I should hope, JohnHowell— no such a thing. A place is a place, and I know mine, andam content with the spear of life in which it pleases heaven toplace me, John: and I wish you were, and remembered what we learnedfrom our parson when we went to school together in dear oldPigeoncot, John— when you used to help little Mary with herlessons, John, and fought Bob Brown, the big butcher's boy, becausehe was rude to me, John, and he gave you that black hi.
JOHN. — Say eye, Mary, not heye [gently] .
MARY. — Eye; and I thought you never looked betterin all your life than you did then: and we both took service atSquire Milliken's— me as dairy-girl, and you as knife-boy; and goodmasters have they been to us from our youth hup: both old SquireMilliken and Mr. Charles as is master now, and poor Mrs. as isdead, though she had her tantrums— and I thought we should save upand take the “Milliken Arms”— and now we have saved up— and now,now, now— oh, you are a stone, a stone, a stone! and I wish youwere hung round my neck, and I were put down the well! There's thehup-stairs bell. [She starts, changing her manner as shehears the bell, and exit. ]
JOHN [looking after her] . — It's alltrue. Gospel-true. We were children in the same village— sat on thesame form at school. And it was for her sake that Bob Brown thebutcher's boy whopped me. A black eye! I'm not handsome. But if Iwere ugly, ugl