plays [59]
where it is, you see: when you've
been knocking about on blue water for a matter of two-and-forty
year, shipwrecked here, and blown up there, and everywhere out of
luck, and given over for dead by all your messmates and
relations, why, what it amounts to is this: nobody knows you,
and you hardly know yourself, and there you are; and I'll trouble
you for another noggin of rum.
MRS. DRAKE. I think you've had enough.
PEW. I don't; so bear a hand. (EXIT MRS. DRAKE; PEW EMPTIES THE
GLASS.) Rum, ah, rum, you're a lovely creature; they haven't
never done you justice. (PROCEEDS TO FILL AND LIGHT PIPE;
RE-ENTER MRS. DRAKE WITH RUM.)] And now, ma'am, since you're so
genteel and amicable-like, what about my old commander? Is he,
in a manner of speaking, on half pay? or is he living on his
fortune, like a gentleman slaver ought?
MRS. DRAKE. Well, sailor, people talk, you know.
PEW. I know, ma'am; I'd have been rolling in my coach, if they'd
have held their tongues.
MRS. DRAKE. And they do say that Captain Gaunt, for so pious a
man, is little better than a miser.
PEW. Don't say it, ma'am; not to old Pew. Ah, how often have I
up and strove with him! 'Cap'n, live it down,' says I. 'Ah,
Pew,' says he, 'you're a better man than I am,' he says; 'but
dammne,' he says, 'money,' he says, 'is like rum to me.'
(INSINUATING.) And what about a old sea-chest, hey? a old
sea-chest, strapped with brass bands?
MRS. DRAKE. Why, that'll be the chest in his parlour, where he
has it bolted to the wall, as I've seen with my own eyes; and so
might you, if you had eyes to see with.
PEW. No, ma'am, that ain't good enough; you don't bam old Pew.
You never was in that parlour in your life.
MRS. DRAKE. I never was? Well, I declare!
PEW. Well then, if you was, where's the chest? Beside the
chimbley, hey? (WINKING.) Beside the table with the 'oly Bible?
MRS. DRAKE. No, sailor, you don't get any information out of me.
PEW. What, ma'am? Not to old Pew? Why, my god-child showed it
me herself, and I told her where she'd find my name - P, E, W,
Pew - cut out on the starn of it; and sure enough she did. Why,
ma'am, it was his old money-box when he was in the Guinea trade;
and they do say he keeps the rhino in it still.
MRS. DRAKE. No, sailor, nothing out of me! And if you want to
know, you can ask the Admiral himself! (SHE CROSSES, L.)
PEW. Hey? Old girl fly? Then I reckon I must have a mate, if
it was the parish bull.
SCENE II
TO THESE, KIT, A LITTLE DRUNK
KIT (LOOKING IN OVER HALF-DOOR). Mrs. Drake! Mother! Where are
you? Come and welcome the prodigal!
MRS. DRAKE (COMING FORWARD TO MEET HIM AS HE ENTERS; PEW REMAINS
CONCEALED BY THE SETTLE, SMOKING, DRINKING, AND LISTENING). Lord
bless us and save us, if it ain't my boy! Give us a kiss.
KIT. That I will, and twenty if you like, old girl. (KISSES
HER.)
MRS. DRAKE. O Kit, Kit, you've been at those other houses, where
the stuff they give you, my dear, it is poison for a dog.
[KIT. Round with friends, mother: only round with friends.
MRS. DRAKE. Well, anyway, you'll take a glass just to settle it,
from me. (SHE BRINGS THE BOTTLE, AND FILLS FOR HIM.) There,
that's pure; that'll do you no harm.] But O, Kit, Kit, I thought
you were done with all this Jack-a-shoring.
KIT. What cheer, mother? I'm only a sheet in the wind; and
who's the worse for it but me?
MRS. DRAKE. Ah, and that dear young lady; and her waiting and
keeping single these two years for the love of you!
KIT. She, mother? she's heart of oak, she's true as steel, and
good as gold; and she has my ring on her finger, too. But
where's the use? The Admiral won't look at me.
MRS. DRAKE. Why not? You're as good a man as him any day.
KIT. Am I? He says I'm a devil, and swears that none of his
flesh and blood - that's what he said, mother! - should lie at my
mercy. That's what cuts me. If it wasn't for the good stuff
I've been taking aboard, and the jolly companions I've been
been knocking about on blue water for a matter of two-and-forty
year, shipwrecked here, and blown up there, and everywhere out of
luck, and given over for dead by all your messmates and
relations, why, what it amounts to is this: nobody knows you,
and you hardly know yourself, and there you are; and I'll trouble
you for another noggin of rum.
MRS. DRAKE. I think you've had enough.
PEW. I don't; so bear a hand. (EXIT MRS. DRAKE; PEW EMPTIES THE
GLASS.) Rum, ah, rum, you're a lovely creature; they haven't
never done you justice. (PROCEEDS TO FILL AND LIGHT PIPE;
RE-ENTER MRS. DRAKE WITH RUM.)] And now, ma'am, since you're so
genteel and amicable-like, what about my old commander? Is he,
in a manner of speaking, on half pay? or is he living on his
fortune, like a gentleman slaver ought?
MRS. DRAKE. Well, sailor, people talk, you know.
PEW. I know, ma'am; I'd have been rolling in my coach, if they'd
have held their tongues.
MRS. DRAKE. And they do say that Captain Gaunt, for so pious a
man, is little better than a miser.
PEW. Don't say it, ma'am; not to old Pew. Ah, how often have I
up and strove with him! 'Cap'n, live it down,' says I. 'Ah,
Pew,' says he, 'you're a better man than I am,' he says; 'but
dammne,' he says, 'money,' he says, 'is like rum to me.'
(INSINUATING.) And what about a old sea-chest, hey? a old
sea-chest, strapped with brass bands?
MRS. DRAKE. Why, that'll be the chest in his parlour, where he
has it bolted to the wall, as I've seen with my own eyes; and so
might you, if you had eyes to see with.
PEW. No, ma'am, that ain't good enough; you don't bam old Pew.
You never was in that parlour in your life.
MRS. DRAKE. I never was? Well, I declare!
PEW. Well then, if you was, where's the chest? Beside the
chimbley, hey? (WINKING.) Beside the table with the 'oly Bible?
MRS. DRAKE. No, sailor, you don't get any information out of me.
PEW. What, ma'am? Not to old Pew? Why, my god-child showed it
me herself, and I told her where she'd find my name - P, E, W,
Pew - cut out on the starn of it; and sure enough she did. Why,
ma'am, it was his old money-box when he was in the Guinea trade;
and they do say he keeps the rhino in it still.
MRS. DRAKE. No, sailor, nothing out of me! And if you want to
know, you can ask the Admiral himself! (SHE CROSSES, L.)
PEW. Hey? Old girl fly? Then I reckon I must have a mate, if
it was the parish bull.
SCENE II
TO THESE, KIT, A LITTLE DRUNK
KIT (LOOKING IN OVER HALF-DOOR). Mrs. Drake! Mother! Where are
you? Come and welcome the prodigal!
MRS. DRAKE (COMING FORWARD TO MEET HIM AS HE ENTERS; PEW REMAINS
CONCEALED BY THE SETTLE, SMOKING, DRINKING, AND LISTENING). Lord
bless us and save us, if it ain't my boy! Give us a kiss.
KIT. That I will, and twenty if you like, old girl. (KISSES
HER.)
MRS. DRAKE. O Kit, Kit, you've been at those other houses, where
the stuff they give you, my dear, it is poison for a dog.
[KIT. Round with friends, mother: only round with friends.
MRS. DRAKE. Well, anyway, you'll take a glass just to settle it,
from me. (SHE BRINGS THE BOTTLE, AND FILLS FOR HIM.) There,
that's pure; that'll do you no harm.] But O, Kit, Kit, I thought
you were done with all this Jack-a-shoring.
KIT. What cheer, mother? I'm only a sheet in the wind; and
who's the worse for it but me?
MRS. DRAKE. Ah, and that dear young lady; and her waiting and
keeping single these two years for the love of you!
KIT. She, mother? she's heart of oak, she's true as steel, and
good as gold; and she has my ring on her finger, too. But
where's the use? The Admiral won't look at me.
MRS. DRAKE. Why not? You're as good a man as him any day.
KIT. Am I? He says I'm a devil, and swears that none of his
flesh and blood - that's what he said, mother! - should lie at my
mercy. That's what cuts me. If it wasn't for the good stuff
I've been taking aboard, and the jolly companions I've been