plays [54]
If it lies in me, your life shall not be
lost on that same reef of an ungodly husband. (GOES OUT, C.)
SCENE V
ARETHUSA
ARETHUSA. I thought the time dragged long and weary when I knew
that Kit was homeward bound, all the white sails a-blowing out
towards England, and my Kit's face turned this way? (SHE BEGINS
TO DUST.) Sure, if my mother were here, she would understand and
help us; she would understand a young maid's heart, though her
own had never an ache; and she would love my Kit. (PUTTING BACK
THE TELESCOPE.) To think she died: husband and child - and so
much love - she was taken from them all. Ah, there is no parting
but the grave! And Kit and I both live, and both love each
other; and here am I cast down? O, Arethusa, shame! And your
love home from the deep seas, and loving you still; and the sun
shining; and the world all full of hope? O, hope, you're a good
word!
SCENE VI
ARETHUSA; TO HER, PEW
PEW (SINGING WITHOUT) -
'Time for us to go!
Time for us to go!
And we'll keep the brig three pints away,
For it's time for us to go.'
ARETHUSA. Who comes here? a seaman by his song, and father out!
(SHE TRIES THE AIR) 'Time for us to go!' It sounds a wild kind
of song. (TAP-TAP; PEW PASSES THE WINDOW.) O, what a face - and
blind!
PEW (ENTERING). Kind Christian friends, take pity on a poor
blind mariner, as lost his precious sight in the defence of his
native country, England, and God bless King George!
ARETHUSA. What can I do for you, sailor?
PEW. Good Christian lady, help a poor blind mariner to a
mouthful of meat. I've served His Majesty in every quarter of
the globe; I've spoke with 'Awke and glorious Anson, as I might
with you; and I've tramped it all night long, upon my sinful
feet, and with a empty belly.
ARETHUSA. You shall not ask bread and be denied by a sailor's
daughter and a sailor's sweetheart; and when my father returns he
shall give you something to set you on your road.
PEW. Kind and lovely lady, do you tell me that you are in a
manner of speaking alone? or do my ears deceive a poor blind
seaman?
ARETHUSA. I live here with my father, and my father is abroad.
PEW. Dear, beautiful, Christian lady, tell a poor blind man your
honoured name, that he may remember it in his poor blind prayers.
ARETHUSA. Sailor, I am Arethusa Gaunt.
PEW. Sweet lady, answer a poor blind man one other question:
are you in a manner of speaking related to Cap'n John Gaunt?
Cap'n John as in the ebony trade were known as Admiral Guinea?
ARETHUSA. Captain John Gaunt is my father.
PEW (DROPPING THE BLIND MAN'S WHINE). Lord, think of that now!
They told me this was where he lived, and so it is. And here's
old Pew, old David Pew, as was the Admiral's own bo'sun,
colloguing in his old commander's parlour, with his old
commander's gal (SEIZES ARETHUSA). Ah, and a bouncer you are,
and no mistake.
ARETHUSA. Let me go! how dare you?
PEW. Lord love you, don't you struggle, now, don't you. (SHE
ESCAPES INTO FRONT R. CORNER, WHERE HE KEEPS HER IMPRISONED.)
Ah, well, we'll get you again, my lovely woman. What a arm
you've got - great god of love - and a face like a peach! I'm a
judge, I am. (SHE TRIES TO ESCAPE; HE STOPS HER.) No, you
don't; O, I can hear a flea jump! [But it's here where I miss my
deadlights. Poor old Pew; him as the ladies always would have
for their fancy man and take no denial; here you are with your
commander's daughter close aboard, and you can't so much as guess
the colour of her lovely eyes. (SINGING) -
'Be they black like ebony;
Or be they blue like to the sky.'
Black like the Admiral's? or blue like his poor dear wife's? Ah,
I was fond of that there woman, I was: the Admiral was jealous
of me.] Arethusa, my dear, - my heart, what a 'and and arm you
HAVE got; I'll dream o' that 'and and arm, I will! - but as I was
a-saying, does the Admiral ever in a manner of speaking refer to
his old bo'sun David Pew? him as he fell out with about the black
woman
lost on that same reef of an ungodly husband. (GOES OUT, C.)
SCENE V
ARETHUSA
ARETHUSA. I thought the time dragged long and weary when I knew
that Kit was homeward bound, all the white sails a-blowing out
towards England, and my Kit's face turned this way? (SHE BEGINS
TO DUST.) Sure, if my mother were here, she would understand and
help us; she would understand a young maid's heart, though her
own had never an ache; and she would love my Kit. (PUTTING BACK
THE TELESCOPE.) To think she died: husband and child - and so
much love - she was taken from them all. Ah, there is no parting
but the grave! And Kit and I both live, and both love each
other; and here am I cast down? O, Arethusa, shame! And your
love home from the deep seas, and loving you still; and the sun
shining; and the world all full of hope? O, hope, you're a good
word!
SCENE VI
ARETHUSA; TO HER, PEW
PEW (SINGING WITHOUT) -
'Time for us to go!
Time for us to go!
And we'll keep the brig three pints away,
For it's time for us to go.'
ARETHUSA. Who comes here? a seaman by his song, and father out!
(SHE TRIES THE AIR) 'Time for us to go!' It sounds a wild kind
of song. (TAP-TAP; PEW PASSES THE WINDOW.) O, what a face - and
blind!
PEW (ENTERING). Kind Christian friends, take pity on a poor
blind mariner, as lost his precious sight in the defence of his
native country, England, and God bless King George!
ARETHUSA. What can I do for you, sailor?
PEW. Good Christian lady, help a poor blind mariner to a
mouthful of meat. I've served His Majesty in every quarter of
the globe; I've spoke with 'Awke and glorious Anson, as I might
with you; and I've tramped it all night long, upon my sinful
feet, and with a empty belly.
ARETHUSA. You shall not ask bread and be denied by a sailor's
daughter and a sailor's sweetheart; and when my father returns he
shall give you something to set you on your road.
PEW. Kind and lovely lady, do you tell me that you are in a
manner of speaking alone? or do my ears deceive a poor blind
seaman?
ARETHUSA. I live here with my father, and my father is abroad.
PEW. Dear, beautiful, Christian lady, tell a poor blind man your
honoured name, that he may remember it in his poor blind prayers.
ARETHUSA. Sailor, I am Arethusa Gaunt.
PEW. Sweet lady, answer a poor blind man one other question:
are you in a manner of speaking related to Cap'n John Gaunt?
Cap'n John as in the ebony trade were known as Admiral Guinea?
ARETHUSA. Captain John Gaunt is my father.
PEW (DROPPING THE BLIND MAN'S WHINE). Lord, think of that now!
They told me this was where he lived, and so it is. And here's
old Pew, old David Pew, as was the Admiral's own bo'sun,
colloguing in his old commander's parlour, with his old
commander's gal (SEIZES ARETHUSA). Ah, and a bouncer you are,
and no mistake.
ARETHUSA. Let me go! how dare you?
PEW. Lord love you, don't you struggle, now, don't you. (SHE
ESCAPES INTO FRONT R. CORNER, WHERE HE KEEPS HER IMPRISONED.)
Ah, well, we'll get you again, my lovely woman. What a arm
you've got - great god of love - and a face like a peach! I'm a
judge, I am. (SHE TRIES TO ESCAPE; HE STOPS HER.) No, you
don't; O, I can hear a flea jump! [But it's here where I miss my
deadlights. Poor old Pew; him as the ladies always would have
for their fancy man and take no denial; here you are with your
commander's daughter close aboard, and you can't so much as guess
the colour of her lovely eyes. (SINGING) -
'Be they black like ebony;
Or be they blue like to the sky.'
Black like the Admiral's? or blue like his poor dear wife's? Ah,
I was fond of that there woman, I was: the Admiral was jealous
of me.] Arethusa, my dear, - my heart, what a 'and and arm you
HAVE got; I'll dream o' that 'and and arm, I will! - but as I was
a-saying, does the Admiral ever in a manner of speaking refer to
his old bo'sun David Pew? him as he fell out with about the black
woman