



Produced by Paul Haxo from page images generously made
available by the University of Toronto and the Internet
Archive.





A DUEL IN THE DARK.

_An original Farce,_

IN ONE ACT.


BY J. STIRLING COYNE,

AUTHOR OF

"_My Wife's Daughter_," "_Binks the Bagman_," "_Separate
Maintenance_," "_How to settle Accounts with your Laundress_," "_Did
you ever send your Wife to Camberwell_,"
_&c. &c. &c._


THOMAS HAILES LACY,

WELLINGTON STREET, STRAND,

LONDON.




_First Performed at the Theatre Royal Haymarket,
On Saturday, January_ 31_st,_ 1852.


CHARACTERS.

MR. GREGORY GREENFINCH         Mr. BUCKSTONE.

MRS. GREENFINCH        }

COUNTESS DE RAMBUTEAU  }       Mrs. FITZWILLIAM.

CHARLEY BATES          }

BETSY                          Mrs. CAULFIELD.

WAITER                         Mr. EDWARDS.


COSTUMES.

Mr. GREENFINCH.--Green coat, light blue trowsers, and French
travelling cap.

Mrs. GREENFINCH.--Fawn polka jacket, waistcoat and skirt.

COUNTESS DE RAMBUTEAU.--Loose travelling pelisse, bonnet and green
veil.

CHARLEY BATES.--Blue frock coat and white trowsers.

BETSY.--Travelling dress and servant's dress.

WAITER.--Gendarme suit.


SCENE _lies at a Hotel at Dieppe._


Time in Representation, 50 minutes.




A DUEL IN THE DARK!

SCENE.--_A handsomely furnished Apartment on the ground floor of a
Hotel at Dieppe. A French window at back opening on a garden. Door,
2 E. L. Door, 3 E. L. A large stove, L. between the two doors. Door,
2 E. R. Easy chair near door, R. Tables, R. and L. C. at back; bottle
of brandy with glasses on table, L. Chairs, &c. Two lighted candles
on._

_Enter GREENFINCH, carrying bandbox, large travelling cloak, carpet
bag and umbrella, L. 3 E._

GREEN. Well now this is something like an adventure. (_putting down
the umbrella and bandbox, R._) There's a romantic mystery attached to
me that I can't unravel, in fact I feel myself like a tangled
penn'orth of thread; the more I try to clear myself the more
complicated I become. Let me calmly consider my singular position.
(_throws the cloak on the easy chair, R. and places the carpet bag
beside it_) In the first place here I have arrived at the Hotel d'
Angleterre in Dieppe accompanied by the Countess de Rambuteau--a real
Countess! Poor Mrs. Greenfinch little dreams what a rake I am--but for
a long time I've been dying for an aristocratic flirtation--I have
looked at lovely women in the private boxes at the theatres--and have
run after carriages in the park--but all in vain, and now, startling
as the fact may seem, I have been for the last thirty hours the
travelling companion of a French Countess, and have shared her
post-chaise from Paris: when I say shared, I mean the Countess and her
maid took the inside and left me the outside, where I was exalted to
the dickey amongst a miscellaneous assortment of trunks and bandboxes,
by which I have been jolted and jammed till I haven't a bone in my
body without its particular ache. But the most extraordinary part of
the affair is that I have never yet seen the Countess's face, for she
has always concealed it from me beneath a thick veil. However that's
nothing, there's a secret sympathy by which I think I could discover a
pretty face under a piecrust. Hah! here she comes, and now for the
tender revelation--the soft confession--the blushing avowal--the--

_Enter MRS. GREENFINCH, 2 E. R., in a travelling dress closely veiled,
she carries in her hand a lady's walking basket._

Ah, my charming Countess, at length after a painful--I mean a
delightful journey--we have arrived in Dieppe, and now permit me to
gaze on those lovely features.

MRS. G. (_retires as he approaches_) No, no, _je ne permittez pas;_
nevare, not at all, Monsieur Grinfeench.

GREEN. Dear, Countess, take pity on me. (_aside_) What delightful
accents! She told me she could speak English fluently, and she does.
Am I never to see your face, dear Countess? Oh! have pity on me.

MRS. G. _Oui_, you sall ordere diner _toute de suite._

GREEN. Dinner? certainly, Countess.

_Exit 3 E. L._

BETSY. (_peeping in at door, R._) Is he gone, mum?

MRS. G. Yes, Betsy, you may come in. (_lays the basket she carries on
table, L. and puts up her veil_)

BETSY. (_enters by door, R._) Well, mum, does he suspect nothing yet?

MRS. G. Nothing. He has not yet seen my face--but if he had, I think
this red wig, these spectacles, and this cravat would completely
prevent his recognizing me.

BETSY. He little thinks, mum, 'tis his own lawful wife he's running
away with instead of a fine foreign Countess.

MRS. G. Oh, Betsy, when I think of that, I could tear his eyes out. A
man, Betsy, that I thought the most faithful creature woman ever was
blessed with, to deceive me so. A working model of a husband that I
may say I made out of nothing.

BETSY. Ah, mum, I know what husbands is made of! I was once
accidentally married myself for three weeks to a sea cap'n, who took
me, mum, as his mate--but I diskivered I was only his second mate, for
he'd got another wife alive, mum--and so he slipped hisself through
the wedding ring that way. Oh! mum, husbands isn't to be trusted no
ways.

MRS. G. 'Twas your experience and advice, Betsy, that put me upon this
plan of trying Mr. Greenfinch's fidelity. Before he went to Paris
about that legacy left him by his aunt, there wasn't a more dutiful
little husband in Peckham Rye.

BETSY. No, more there wasn't, mum. But after he'd been a month in
Paris, he wrote to say he'd got into the hands of the French lawyers,
and couldn't return so soon as he expected.

MRS. G. Upon which I resolved to run over to Paris, if 'twas only for
a day--for I thought he must be miserable without his wife.

BETSY. A very popular delusion amongst women, mum.

MRS. G. And so as you know, Betsy, I took you with me and crossed to
Boulogne. What I suffered from the roughness of the waves and the
custom-house officers I need not repeat. I didn't however think of
anything but the joyful surprise it would be to Mr. Greenfinch when I
should drop suddenly like a lump of sugar out of heaven into his
solitary tea.

BETSY. Yes, mum, but you know I had my suspicions that it wasn't the
lawyers kept master in Paris--so I persuaded you to take lodgings
opposite the hotel where he was stopping, and keep a watchful eye on
his proceedings from the window, with your veil down.

MRS. G. Yes, Betsy, that was certainly your plan,--and what has been
the consequence? The very first day my gentleman kissed his hand to
me--the second day he performed a love pantomime at his window for my
diversion--and the third day he sent me a daguerreotype portrait of
himself backed by a Westphalia ham.

BETSY. And before the week was out you had induced him to run away
with you.

MRS. G. I'll never forgive him that.

BETSY. Of course you won't--you've too much spirit to forgive any man,
much less a husband. Now, mum, if you'll help me in a little plan I've
hit upon, I think we'll torment him to that degree that he'll never
hear a Countess mentioned without trembling.

MRS. G. I'll do anything, Betsy, to make the little wretch miserable.

BETSY. Well then, mum, this is my plan.

_GREENFINCH speaks outside, L. 3 E._

MRS. G. Hist, I hear him returning; run into my room and I'll come to
you presently. (_draws down her veil_)

_Exit BETSY, 2 E. R._

_Enter GREENFINCH, 3 E. L._

GREEN. I've ordered dinner at five; and now, my charming
Countess--mysterious being, whom I have loved distractedly for three
long weeks through that envious veil--permit me. (_about to remove her
veil, she motions him to desist_) Well I won't; delicacy forbids
intrusion. However, I hope I may not be considered particularly
inquisitive, if I beg to be informed why you and I should be here in
Dieppe under such mysterious circumstances.

MRS. G. Oh, _certainment_, Monsieur Grinfeench, I sall confess to you
dat I vas _frappe_ vis your mug--dat is your superbe countenance in de
vindere of your hotel.

GREEN. (_aside_) Struck by my superb countenance! a clear case of
fascination. My dear Countess, it is no less extraordinary that
whenever you were sitting in your balcony, I generally found myself
flattening my nose against the centre pane of my window.

MRS. G. _Oui_, _oui_, I did regard your flat nose vare mosh, _en
attendant_, it happen I did find myself in a position _tres
embarrasant_--a situation of danger; I was in want of a friend--_un
ami_.

GREEN. And you thought of me.

MRS. G. _Oui_, you were at de top of my mind--dat is, uppermost in my
thoughts.

GREEN. Tender confession! and then you wrote to me this dear little
note. (_produces a note and kisses it_) Imagine the indescribable
emotion I experienced in my interior when I opened it and read these
lines. (_reads_) "Interesting stranger, I am not insense to your
merits, but circumstances demand secresy. I shall be wait for you this
evening at nine o'clock in a post carriage outside the Barriere
d'Enfer.--PAULINE, Countess de Rambuteau." I hastened accordingly to
the barrier at the hour named.

MRS. G. Vare I did attend, as vas appoint.

GREEN. Yes, but instead of inviting me to take a seat beside you, I
was lifted by two fellows, whose muscular developments forbade any
opposition on my part, into the dickey of the carriage--the postillion
cracked his whip, away we started--and that is all I know about the
affair.

MRS. G. Ha, ha! I fear I have trespass on your complaisance, your vat
you call spooney disposition--dat is, your good nature.

GREEN. Countess, my good nature is public property like Kennington
Common--you can't trespass on it. Is there any other way I can be
serviceable to you?

MRS. G. _Oui_, dere is one oder little ting; vil you permit me, vile
in dis _maison_, to be _apellez_ your _femme_, your best half of de
vorst--to be called Madame Grinfeench?

GREEN. Madame:--in English that means Missus--Mrs. Greenfinch!

MRS. G. _Oui_. I have particulere reason for my request.

GREEN. Hem! hem! Perhaps, Countess, you are not aware that there's a
previous Mrs. Greenfinch at this moment on the British shores; a
splendid woman, though I say it, who sits like a pensive dove mourning
for her absent mate at Peckham Rye.

MRS. G. (_aside_) There's some good in him still. Oh dat is no obelisk
in de vay. I go to-morrow in de packey bote, and sall only be your
little rib for a little time.

GREEN. Why if I thought it was only for a little time I might.
(_aside_) She's a lovely creature no doubt, and as Mrs. G. can never
know anything of my delinquency--pooh! what's there to be afraid of?
(_to her_) Well, Countess, I can refuse nothing to your sex--consider
yourself as the temporary Mrs. Greenfinch.

MRS. G. _Merci, mon ami_. (_aside_) The atrocious wretch!

GREEN. Now that point's settled, may I not in the profane language of
poetic fiction be permitted to feast these longing eyes on those
heavenly features?

MRS. G. Ah! you persuade me what you like you leetle rascal.

GREEN. Gracious condescension! So from the face of heaven the cloud
withdraws and (_she has raised her veil; seeing her face he starts_)
and--ahem! the face of heaven. (_aside_) The Countess's face don't
improve upon close inspection. I never liked red hair, and I hate
green spectacles.

MRS. G. You like my pheezog?--it is your taste? Ah! _oui_, now I sall
leave you to change my toilette--_restez vous ici_, and _n'oubliez
pas_--don't forget I am Madame Grinfeench.

_Exit R._

GREEN. Shall I ever forget it? never! Hem! The Countess adores me
that's clear, and if she hadn't red hair, she'd be a remarkably fine
woman. But she may dye her hair:--Gad, so she may; its only dying for
love after all.

MRS. G. (_returning_) Ah! I did forget--you must _prenez garde_--be
vide awake, and take care of our secret, for de most little cause of
suspect vill _coupez_ both our neck at one slice.

_Exit R._

GREEN. What does she mean? I feel I'm up to the ears in some terrible
mystery. I don't know whether 'tis conscience or cowardice, but my
sympathy for the Countess is evaporating very rapidly, in fact I'm
beginning to feel dreadfully uncomfortable here--why should she want
to pass as my wife? Why does she want to escape from France? Eh? Echo
returns no answer to its correspondent! (_sees the basket on the
table, L._) Hah! here's her basket she has forgotten, perhaps it may
contain something to clear up this mystery. (_takes basket off table_)
Bless me, 'tis very heavy for its size, what can she have in it?
(_feeling the basket_) 'Tis not a smelling bottle, nor it can't be a
case of razors--Countesses don't usually shave. I shouldn't wonder if
it was--no, no, it's--eh? what is it then? (_draws a pistol from the
basket_) Ha--a--oh! A p-p-pistol! Oh, dear! there's more in this than
meets the eye!--Why does she travel with these deadly weapons? Hah! A
horrid thought flashes across my tortured brain--perhaps she's Abd el
Kader in disguise, or more horrible still she maybe a female bandit
intending to make me her unsuspecting victim; murder me perhaps in my
sleep; she looks as if she could do it. (_MRS. G. appears watching at
door, R._) Oh, lord! I'll go this moment and inform the police.

MRS. G. (_entering and intercepting him_) _Arretez!_ Stop!

GREEN. (_starting_) Ah!

MRS. G. I have _entendez vous_.

GREEN. Oh, ha--I--I--I merely--ha, ha! You perceive I was----

MRS. G. You vas go to betray me; _mais_ you perceive dis little
machine? (_produces a pistol from her pocket_)

GREEN. Oh, oh!--distinctly, Countess.

MRS. G. Madame Grinfeench!

GREEN. I beg pardon, Madame Grinfeench. Pray oblige me by pointing the
other end of that article this way. I've an uncommonly weak head, and
couldn't stand anything from that quarter.

MRS. G. _Prenez garde_, then how you betray de _confiance_ I have put
into you?

GREEN. What confidence? I haven't the most distant idea of the object
for which I have been brought here.

MRS. G. Den I sall vispare at your ear dat you are flying from justice
with a denounced leader of a secret club.

GREEN. Me!--a Greenfinch flying from justice!--good gracious! what do
you mean?

MRS. G. _Ecoutez donc!_ de police break in on our meeting--de officier
seize me to take me to quod.

GREEN. And what did you do?

MRS. G. Bang! shoot him through the nob--den one, two, tree jump out
of de vindere.

GREEN. Shot a police officer! (_aside_) I'm paralysed!

MRS. G. Dey have offer large reward for my take; but if I voyager as
your _femme_, I may _echapper_--bolt avay! But if ve are catch, ve
vill die nobly--_oui_, mon Grinfeench, on de same scaffold--togedder
ve vill hop de twig! (_clasps him in her arms_)

GREEN. Her English is not very elegant