 Act 3 of Enchancery, by Arthur Wing Pinero. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act 3. Home Sweet Home. Scene. Room comfortably furnished in lodging-house fashion. Centre a back, a fireplace. At back left, a door. Downstage left, a window practicable. Downstage right, a door. Right centre, a couch. Behind couch, a small table, on which stands a terracotta bust. Upstage right, set across the corner of the room, a piano and piano stool, piano behind piano, out of sight, a stool or chair for business. Before fireplace, an armchair. A mantelpiece, framed photograph of actor playing Joliff. A quantity of letters stuck in chimney-glass. Downstage left centre, a table and two chairs. Good lamp, lighted. Landscape picture hung on wall right. Other pictures, furniture, ornaments etc etc to fill spaces. Night time, blue gas row or lime outside window. Music at Rise of Curtain, Home Sweet Home. Kittles, a servant gal, is discovered placing a lighted lamp on table left centre. Where's Mrs Iwanda? In her own room a morning over the deer departed I suppose. Looking towards window. I know that won't do, a Bill Scott topsy-turvy. Goes to window and turns bill. Apartments for ladies and gentlemen upside down, that ain't the way to fill our establishment. Mrs Jackson enters right. She is a cumbly woman in widow's weeds. What are you doing Kittles? Kittles showing bill. Apartments for ladies and gentlemen upside down. What? A Bill Scott topsy-turvy. Oh. Kittles readjusts bill. It doesn't matter much. I shall never let my room's in this dead and alive place. Excuse me mum, but I don't think it's how you goers houching about enough. You ain't been to Rocheville Gardens not once since I've been with you. Graveson is the gayest place I've ever lived in. Have you ever been out of it, Kittles? Kittles, proudly. No mum, never. I was born and educated here. It will drive me mad. Comes to couch and sits. You know, Kittles, I lost my husband some two months ago. Yes mum, I've urged you mention it. My income being very small, I was obliged to look round for some means to add to it. This house was advertised as being splendidly adapted for the letting of apartments, and the landlord described it as, Brighton on Thames. I brought my furniture from London three weeks ago, and here I am. The house is splendidly adapted for the letting of apartments, which nobody seems to take. Ha! I suppose the best visitors sleep in the open air. Oh, do cheer up, mum. When the people do come, they'll come in shoals like the shrimps, and then you'll be able to catch them alive and boil them. Ah! Go away, Kittles. You vulgar. Yes, mum. Going to door left and turning. Oh, mum, excuse me, mum, but I only wish it's how I was a widower. Good gracious! Why? Because it seems so much more easy to get a husband when you're a widower. Mrs. Jackson rises. Kittles coming down to window. How come I'm there? Blessed if there ain't a fly with some luggage at our door. Three people inside, and one out. They can't be coming to this house. Kittles opening window. Oh, can't they, though? There's a gentleman getting off the box. Mrs. Jackson in a hurry. Show them in here, while I run and make myself neat. Be quick, Kittles. Kittles excitedly. Yes, mum. I told you so, mum. I told you so. The shrimp has come. The shrimp has come. Bustles off door left. Mrs. Jackson looking in chimney-glass. Oh, I suppose they'll only ask the rent and drive away. But I think I'd better go crawl my fringe in case. Mrs. Jackson runs out door right. A murmur of female voices is heard off left. Then Kittles enters. This way, mum. This way, mum, if you please. Aside. Oh, crikey, what swells? Kittles right of door comes down left. Mrs. Smith enters, followed by Walker and John. Walker carries her mistress's plush bag. John has the wraps and a bag or two. Oh, how weary I am. Do sit down, ma'am. There. There's a deer. Walker places Mrs. Smith upon couch, right centre, then takes smelling salts from bag and holds them to her nose. Thank you, Walker. Looking round. This is melancholy enough. Aside to Walker. But it's better than another dreadful hotel. She leans back wearily and closes her eyes. John to Kittles. Oh, you let apartment here, don't you? Crossing his leg and leaning on table. Kittles, looking him up and down and imitating him. Yaaas. Aside. Crikey, here's a tipped-up valet. John, looking round. This is the sitting-room, I suppose. Sitting-room for the master and the mrs. standing-room for the domestics. John, looking hatter with disgust. What other rooms are there? Well, I live in the kitchen. I don't want to know where. But you might like to pay me a visit, Thomas. Girl. Walker to Kittles. You mustn't speak to Mr.—to John in that way. Oh, I begs parting, I'm sure. I wasn't aware as how you monopolised of him. He won't break, I suppose. She digs John in the ribs. Malina and John move away, right centre, indignantly, as Joliff is heard without. John! John! Kittles. Aside. Here's the master, I suspect. Joliff enters. He wears a white hat and one brown and one white kid glove. Malina, I am ignored. Sits left centre. I don't know whether it's with your sanction and approval, but I'm ignored. John. Aside to Malina. Malina! When are we to shake off this lunatic? Mrs. Smith. To John. Have patience, Montague, he's our safeguard. If the detective is on our track again, we still have the wrong man ready for him instead of the right one. Joliff takes off his hat. And is about to put it on the table when he catches sight of Kittles, who is laughing and covering her mouth with her apron. Joliff, drawing his hat back and looking at Kittles. What's the matter? What is the matter? Kittles pulls herself together, then laughs again. The attendance in these apartments is most unsatisfactory. Holding out his hat to John. John! No notice is taken. John, my hat. John looks at him savagely, then turns away again. John! You can take. Oh! Checking himself. Oh yes, I did give you your month this morning. He puts his hat under the chair, then sneezes. Oh, Malina, I don't wish you to reproach yourself, but my cold arises from your having requested me to ride on the box seat. Taking his gloves off, sees that they are odd. This comes of leaving one's hotel in a hurry. Kittles goes to door left. What is the name of the girl here? Kittles, Mum. Kittles, tell your mistress I am waiting to see the apartments. Yes. Mum, I fancy Mrs. is a puffin of her face. Kittles crosses to door right, then looks round, and laughs at Joliff loudly. Here, are you. What's your name, Kittles? Yes, sir. My compliments to your mistress, and I request that she gives you your month. I'll go along. Bounces off-door right. Joliff rises, and looks about the room inquiringly. Joliff, glancing out of window. John! It has doubtless escaped your memory that my portmanteau, my new portmanteau, still remains on the top of the cab in the night air. John, advancing. Well. Well, fetch it. John, biting his lips. I shall not. Mrs. Smith, rising. John! You would see me do that myself? Yes. You would see me, log that weighty portmanteau off that cab, up those stairs into this house? Yes, I would. If you watch through that window, you will do so. He goes out, door left. John sits left-centre with a sigh of disgust. Walker, look the other way and don't listen. Runs over to John, kneels at his feet, and kisses him. My poor vexed montague. Walker sits upstage in armchair. Now they're going to spoon. Ha! Spoon. They don't spoon. They positively ladle. Melina, this fellow is intolerable. Kicks against John's hat. What's this? Why, if it isn't that infernal fellow's hat, out it goes. Picks it up between his thumb and fingers and flings it out of the open window. I say that fellow is intolerable. Ever since he jumped wildly into our carriage, just as the train was leaving Steepelton, we have never been alone for one moment. What plan have you got in your little head now? Why have we come here? Why, listen, you foolish fellow. You know I have an uncle at Colombo. Well, that isn't here. No, but the P&O boat, the Siam, starts from this place for Colombo on Wednesday at noon, and I propose that we take refuge with my uncle till our chance repair has blown over. Colombo, that's a long way from the club, Melina. Yes, and from Hollow Way too. Rising. John, rising. But I don't see why we should be bothered with this mendacious scoundrel. I've told you, the man is under the strange hallucination that he is Mr. Montague Joliff and my husband. Confound him. On Wednesday we give him the slip and start from Colombo, but if in the meantime Mr. Hingsman follows us here, this unfortunate person is locked up and you escape. Yes, I see that. I'm very sorry for him, but we are two and he is only one, and the minority must always suffer for the majority. Hush. Joliff enters door left, struggling under the weight of his portmanteau, and with his white hat much crushed upon his head. Walker rises. Joliff deposits portmanteau upstage, left centre, then comes down and looks under the chair, left centre. Joliff taking off his hat. It was my hat I found on the railings. He replaces hat under chair and sits as Kittles enters door right. Mrs. Tidy, Mum, were you pleased to step this way? Thank you. John, bring the luggage. Kittles goes out, followed by Mrs. Smith and Walker. Walker, as she goes out, looks at Joliff and bursts into laughter. Ah, you, think of me. What's your name? Walker. No, Rep RT, if you please. Lucy Adelaide Walker. Oh, I beg pardon. Then Lucy Adelaide Walker, from tonight. Looking at watch. At nine-thirty, you will take a month. Huh! She flances out. John has gathered up the wraps, which he has previously deposited by the piano, and is going out whistling. Joliff rising. John, unstrap my portmanteau and take out my slippers. John? John pauses at door, turning furiously. John, you can leave my portmanteau alone. Don't touch it. John goes out contemptuously. Joliff triumphantly. That's the first time I ever knew that fellow obeyed my instructions. Soft music, as in first act. Joliff looks round. I don't know what Molina's arrangements are, but I think I shall be very comfortable. I'm beginning to get a little tired of Molina's ears and graces. I wish I could remember what induced me to marry such a disagreeable girl as Molina. Sits on couch, right centre. Oh, the events of this day. No diary that was ever kept has a page large enough to cron. His eye rests on the little bust on table, right centre. He starts, falters, and moves uneasily, and takes the bust in his hand. I know that bust. I've seen that bust before, often, and often, before I forgot how to remember. Titus said that all of a sudden— He replaces the bust quickly and itches away from it. My heads come on so bad again. That bust has started it, beastly bust. He sits. What I was reflecting upon was that it would take a very large diary to—to— His gaze becomes riveted on the lamp on table, left centre. He moves uneasily. I've seen that lamp before. The pattern on that lamp is quite familiar. He starts up and edges away to centre. He wipes his forehead nervously. Titus never said I should have these sensations. This isn't the sight of somebody's ugly face or the melody of a miserable comic song or the—or— Catch his sight of little landscape on wall, right. I've seen that picture before. I painted that picture when I was a little boy at Dr. Brown's school in Chelsea. Goes round the room, quickly identifying the various objects. I know that, and that, and that. I— He sees a framed photo upon the mantelpiece. I know that man. Snatching the photo. I've seen that man before. This is the ugly face Dr. Titus spoke about. Runs down left centre to get the light of the lamp. No, it isn't. It's my portrait. What's the meaning of this? What is my portrait doing here? He is at the mantelpiece again. He sees the letters stuck in the chimney-gloss. He snatches some of them down and stares at them wildly, reading the addresses. Mr. Jackson? Mr. Marmaduke Jackson. Marmaduke Jackson Esquire? Jackson. Jackson? That's my name. My name's Jackson. These letters are from me. Opens letters violently, throwing them aside as he sees their contents. Income tax. Titus was right. Titus was right. Bootmaker. Taylor. My Taylor's bill. He kisses the bill wildly as Mrs. Jackson is heard without. I'm sure you'll be pleased, sure you'll be pleased. Jolliff. Starting and listening. I know that voice. I know that voice. Mrs. Jackson enters right. That's my wife. Mrs. Jackson with a scream. Emily. They rush into each other's arms. Music ceases. Oh, Marmaduke, where have you been? I thought I was a widow. Wiping her eyes. And I thought I was. I don't know what I thought I was, but I'll tell you all about myself in a minute. Rapidly. So you've moved from Brixton, Emily? Mrs. Jackson. Delighted. Yes, dear. Your employers were very good to me. My employers? Mrs. Jackson, Barbara, candle makers. I'm their traveller, bless them. With a start. Emily, Emily, how's little Freddie? Beautiful. He's in bed. Marmaduke, how have you got on for undervests? Lovely, don't wear them. How's Aunt Matilda? Glorious. Oh, Emily, Emily. Oh, Marmy. They sit together on couch. He leans his head on her shoulder. Oh, I'm so glad to get home. Mrs. Jackson, drying her eyes and putting her handkerchief away. And now, Marmaduke, I shall be obliged to you if you will give me some account of your proceedings. Ahem. Certainly, my dear. I am delighted to see my husband again, of course. If that husband is an honourable, decent, respectable person. You remember what I am, Marmaduke, an affectionate but jealous, determined woman. I'm not to be trifled with. Clenching her fists. And if I find that you've been up to any— but I anticipate, anticipate. Johnniff, dampened. Yes, Emily, you do. Mrs. Jackson, firmly. Now you left me about two months ago. To go to Dillchester with my samples. Suddenly. I wonder what became of those samples. Never mind the samples. Go on. At Steibelton Junction there was a railway collision. I was the only victim. Oh! I was carried to the hotel near at hand and— Suddenly. How's Uncle Robert? Never mind. Uncle Robert will keep. Johnniff, injured. I should hope so, Emily. I say I was carried to the hotel near at hand, and I suppose in the confusion another man's overcoat and another man's card case were carried with me. Well, what of that? I'm telling you, Emily, I'm telling you. Now here comes the strange part of my story. When I recovered, I recovered everything, but my memory. What? I had not the slightest recollection of the past. You, Little Freddy, Griggs and Barber, Aunt Matilda and Uncle Robert, everything and everybody had gone from my memory. In fact, I was compelled to embark in an entirely fresh career. Mrs. Jackson, quickly. Just as if you were a single unencumbered man? Johnniff, leaning back, beamingly. Yes. Mrs. Jackson, starting up, clenching her hands. Mamadouk. Johnniff, rising. My dear. Mrs. Jackson, in an awful voice. Tell that to the Marines. Emily. Tell that to the Marines. I have once today expressed my willingness to do so. Mrs. Jackson, following him. Oh, Bosh. Johnniff, horrified. Emily, you don't mean to say you doubt my... I don't believe a syllable of it. But I... Mrs. Jackson, struck with a sudden thought. Ah! You didn't know when you came here that I was the proprietor of this house? Of course I didn't. Of course you didn't. Mr. Jackson, who is this lady you have brought to reside in these apartments? Johnniff, wiping the perspiration from his brow. The young lady? The young lady with the two servants. Oh, the young lady with the two servants? Who is she? Yes, who is she? What is she? What is she? Yes, the young lady with the two servants. Attempting to change the subject. You're not keeping anything concerning Uncle Robert from me, are you, Emily? Mrs. Jackson, dumping her foot. How does that woman come here? I'm telling you, Emily, I'm telling you. She was coming in as I was coming in. We were both coming in together. I didn't even notice the young lady was a woman. I mean, I don't know. She told me I should find her husband in this room. Where is he? Johnniff staggers against the chair. Her husband? Her husband. Where is he? Johnniff looks round uneasily. I don't see him for the moment. Don't see him for the moment. Mrs. Smith is heard without. Unpick my bag, Walker. Here she is. I'll ask her. Johnniff in agony. I shouldn't. Family matters, family matters. Mrs. Jackson goes to door right and throws it open. Johnniff darts to left centre for his hat. Mrs. Jackson returns to him quickly and takes him by the collar. Where are you going? Can't make out what became of those samples going to inquire. You'll remain here while I put a few questions to the lady who happened to be coming in just as you were coming in here. She drags him upstage and pushes him behind the piano, his head appearing over top. Emily. If you attempt to stir or utter a sound, I'll... Let me explain. Hush. Here she comes. Mrs. Jackson pushes the armchair against the end of piano so that he cannot make his escape and comes down centre as Mrs. Smith enters door right. I've no doubt I shall be very comfortable. Thank you, Mrs. Jackson. Crosses and sits right of left table. I'm sure, I hope so. Mrs. Smith sitting left centre. And I don't think I need trouble you to remain. Mrs. Jackson sitting right centre. It's no trouble, I assure you. A talkative landlady. You'll excuse me, but... I understood you to say I should find your husband in this room. I certainly left him here a few minutes ago. He must have gone out. Gone out? Johnniff tries to attract Mrs. Jackson's attention. Mrs. Jackson motions him to be quiet. You seem to be a very young wife. May I ask how long you've been married? Mrs. Smith impatiently. Oh, I was married about two months ago. Mrs. Jackson starts up. Oh, heavens! The very time he left me. Mrs. Jackson waves her hand to him to hide himself. Mrs. Jackson receding herself to Mrs. Smith. You are quite contented and happy, I hope. Fairly so. When you see my husband, you will guess from his appearance and manners that I have married much beneath me. Johnniff rises and glares fiercely at Mrs. Smith. Attracted for the moment, I suppose, by some fascinating showy young gentleman. Hardly so. Is he fair or dark? Fair. With a small scar on the lobe of his left ear? Really, I have never noticed. Never noticed? Madame, perhaps I can show it to you. Johnniff, in desperation, is attempting to get over the top of the piano. In doing so, he slips and falls on the keyboard. Both ladies turn. Mrs. Smith rises, Mrs. Jackson turns to Johnniff and points to him. Is that the gentleman? That is the person. Mrs. Jackson runs to Johnniff and brings him down. Madame, this man is my husband. Your husband? No. To Johnniff. What is your name? Jackson. It wasn't Jackson this morning. Molina, don't rake up the past. We're both older and wiser since the morning. Time does fly. The door left opens suddenly and Hinxman enters. Hinxman breathlessly. Hello? Caught you again, have I? Who are you? Hinxman. The detective. Nice job you gave me. But we took the next train, though. All of us. Johnniff recoils. All of you? How many? Hinxman mopping his head. Captain McCafferty. Oh. Dr. Titus. Oh. Miss Patricia. Patricia. Oh. Patricia? Who is she? Why, the lady this gentleman was going to marry this morning. Mrs. Jackson to Johnniff. What? Another? To Hinxman. Sir, this man is my husband. Hinxman with a chuckle. Your husband, too. Why, a gentleman's a Mormon. Sits at table and makes notes in book. What shall I do? Poor Montague will be taken. Seizing Johnniff on his right. He is my husband. He said so this morning. Mrs. Jackson pulling Johnniff from the other side. He's my husband. He'd say anything. He's Mr. Johnniff. He's Mr. Jackson. He's Mr. Johnniff. He's Mr. Jackson. The two women pull Johnniff from one side to the other. Johnniff appealingly. Ladies, ladies, don't divide on this question. Mr. Hexman don't let bum. Mrs. Jackson goes up back. McCafferty enters carrying a large pistol case. Is the scandal here? Or should think he was? McCafferty deposits pistol case on table. And alive, too. And alive. Only just. Only just. McCafferty going down to Johnniff. I brought my pistol with me. The same as I fought Colonel Thority with years ago. Oh! Mrs. Smith aside. I must warn Montague. Perhaps in the confusion he may escape. She slips out door right. Now you'll cross the water with me. And satisfy my honour with your blood. Can't get away. Can't get away just now, my busy time. You've thought to do for me with the shock of your departure. But you see I'm one too many for you. Everybody's one too many for me. Goes up to Portmanteau and brings it down to McCafferty. Here. Take back the wedding-truse, so it's unworn. Take back the pocket money. It's unchanged. Putting half sovereign on Portmanteau, which McCafferty picks up eagerly. Your bill shall be settled. Yes, when I've settled you or you've settled me. If you'll not fight in a foreign country, you shall fight me here. You've got one boardin' you already. Greedy, greedy. Goes down right. Mrs. Jackson coming down to McCafferty's right. How dare you incite my husband to commit a breach of the peace? Your husband? My husband. Ha-ha-ha-ha, Megora. It's not bigamy, but trigonometry he's attempting. Whatever his faults, he's the father of little Freddie, sleeping quietly in his cot at this moment. And am I not the father of my little Patricia, who ought to be sleeping quietly in her cot at the moment? The door opens and Patricia enters with Titus. Patricia is still in her bridal attire. Joliff hides himself behind Mrs. Jackson. McCafferty embracing Patricia. Ah, my daughter. There stands the viper. Patricia to Joliff. Montague, come here. She crosses centre. McCafferty goes down left, sits back of table. Hinksman goes up back. Go away! Go away! Go away! I'm engaged too deep. Mrs. Smith enters, door right, followed by John. You shan't touch him. He belongs to me. Ah, he doesn't. He belongs to me. Joliff to Mrs. Smith. Molina, I'm ashamed of you. He belongs to me. I've written on his heart the story of my young love. Goes left of table. McCafferty sits back of table. Hinksman coming down right of Joliff. Come, come, ladies. There seems to be some little misunderstanding. Think so? Now, my good fellow, explain. I have explained, and I'll do so again if you only produce those regent marines. My name is Jackson. I am the devoted husband of this devoted lady. Titus comes down between Hinksman and Joliff. Titus handing two letters to Hinksman. Oh, Mr. Hinksman. These two letters for you arrived at the hotel as we left it. I'd quite forgotten to give them to you. Hinksman takes letters and opens them, goes right. Joliff to Titus. A nice thing you've done. This comes of taking your prescription. I told you to take it easy. You've done so. It's brought your home to you. It has brought it home to me. Titus and Joliff go up. Hinksman takes photo out of first letter. Hello. What's this? It's the photo of the Missy Montague Joliff. To Joliff, looking at him. Oh, it's not like you at all. Slapping his forehead. Where have I seen this fizz now? Mrs. Smith covering her husband's face with her hands. Oh, it isn't like John. It isn't like John. Hinksman turning. Oh, that's the man. Well, you are an artful couple. Mrs. Smith embracing John. Oh, Montague. Montague. Hinksman opens second letter. Joliff to John. I'm sorry for you, John. The judge will give you more than a month. And you more than a year. No recrimination, if you please. Well, this is spoiling a good job, and no mistake. A letter from screw and patch it, Mr. Joliff. Reading. Admiral Turvey and Major Gamboil having received a most excellent account of the young gentleman who has married their ward, Miss Melina Summers, desire to withdraw from all action in the matter, and are bringing every influence to bear upon the vice chancellor to induce him to inflict a merely nominal punishment. The affair is therefore to be lashed up. Oh, Montague. Melina, then everything is settled. Yeah, everything's settled. Throwing away letter. Everything's settled. Hinksman crossing to Joliff and saying sharply. Oh, no. You're not settled yet, Mr. Jackson. You are still wanted for attempting to marry Miss McCafferty. Can't be. That lady. Pointing to Mrs. Smith. Is not my wife. Can be. Pointing to Mrs. Jackson. That lady is your wife. Oh, how intricate the law is. Retires upstage. Titus coming down left. Stop a minute. The charge against this gentleman depends a little on Miss McCafferty. To Patricia. Patricia, we've known each other for a long time. Will you marry me? Patricia crosses left embracing Titus. Yes, anybody. McCafferty coming down. What about my consent? My dear captain, think. You'll always have me near you to watch for the bullet. And to have all take the bullet. The little drop of whiskey I drink is so good and so strong, I believe the bullets melted long ago. Mr. Hinksman, this lady declines to prosecute. And I can assure Mrs. Jackson, in any court of law, that Mr. Jackson's strange behaviour was solely caused by his railway accident at Stepleton Junction. You hear, Emily, do you believe me? I suppose I must. She believes me. To Hinksman. We shall not require those marines. Embracing Mrs. Jackson. Ha! Every married man will be trying to meet with the railway accident now. I shan't. I shall give up travelling for Griggs and Barber, and if I take a drive into the country, you shall accompany me. To Melina. I shall never forget you, Melina. Glaring at John. I shan't forget you, John. To Hinksman. I shan't forget you in a hurry. Hinksman laughs. To McCafferty. I wish I could forget you. Oh, by the way, I find I was a commercial traveller, so I shall require two-and-a-half percent off that little account. McCafferty with disgust. Bah! Johnliff crossing to Patricia and shaking her hand. I shall always remember my kind nurse, Mrs. Titus, that is to be. To Titus. And, Doctor, your bill shan't slip my memory. Looking round. In fact, I'm never going to forget anything or anybody any more. To audience. And last, but not least, I shall never forget you. Music as curtain falls. The End. End of Act Three. End of Enchantery by Arthur Wing Pinero.