plays [67]
dark.
A distant clock chimes the quarters, and strikes one. Then, the
tap-tapping of Pew's stick is hear without; the key is put into
the lock; and enter PEW, C., he pockets key, and is followed by
KIT, with dark lantern
PEW. Quiet, you lubber! Can't you foot it soft, you that has
daylights and a glim?
KIT. All right, old boy. How the devil did we get through the
door? Shall I knock him up?
PEW. Stow your gab (SEIZING HIS WRIST). Under your breath!
KIT. Avast that! You're a savage dog, aren't you?
PEW. Turn on that glim.
KIT. It's as right as a trivet, Pew. What next? By George,
Pew, I'll make your fortune.
PEW. Here, now, look round this room, and sharp. D'ye see a old
sea-chest?
KIT. See it, Pew? why, d'ye think I'm blind?
PEW. Take me across, and let me feel of her. Mum; catch my
hand. Ah, that's her (FEELING THE CHEST), that's the Golden
Mary. Now, see here, my bo, if you've the pluck of a weevil in a
biscuit, this girl is yours; if you hain't, and think to sheer
off, I'm blind, but I'm deadly.
KIT. You'll keep a civil tongue in your head all the same. I'll
take threats from nobody, blind or not. Let's knock up the
Admiral and be done with it. What I want is to get rid of this
dark lantern. It makes me feel like a housebreaker, by George.
PEW (SEATED ON CHEST). You follow this. I'm sick of drinking
bilge, when I might be rolling in my coach, and I'm dog-sick of
Jack Gaunt. Who's he to be wallowing in gold, when a better man
is groping crusts in the gutter and spunging for rum? Now, here
in this blasted chest is the gold to make men of us for life:
gold, ay, gobs of it; and writin's too - things that if I had the
proof of 'em I'd hold Jack Gaunt to the grindstone till his face
was flat. I'd have done it single-handed; but I'm blind, worse
luck: I'm all in the damned dark here, poking with a stick -
Lord, burn up with lime the eyes that saw it! That's why I raked
up you. Come, out with your iron, and prise the lid off. You
shall touch your snack, and have the wench for nothing; ay, and
fling her in the street, when done.
KIT. So you brought me here to steal did you?
PEW. Ay did I; and you shall. I'm a biter: I bring blood.
KIT. Now, Pew, you came here on my promise, or I'd kill you like
a rat. As it is, out of that door! One, two, three (DRAWING HIS
CUTLASS), and off!
PEW (LEAPING AT HIS THROAT, AND WITH A GREAT VOICE). Help!
murder! thieves!
SCENE III
To these, ARETHUSA, GAUNT, with lights. Stage light. PEW has
KIT down, and is throttling him
PEW. I've got him, Cap'n. What, kill my old commander, and rob
him of his blessed child? Not with old Pew!
GAUNT. Get up, David: can't you see you're killing him?
Unhand, I say.
ARETHUSA. In heaven's name, who is it?
PEW. It's a damned villain, my pretty; and his name, to the best
of my belief, is French.
ARETHUSA. Kit? Kit French? Never!
KIT (RISING). He's done for me. (FALLS ON CHEST.)
[PEW. Don't you take on about him, ducky; he ain't worth it.
Cap'n Gaunt, I took him and I give him up. You was 'ard on me
this morning, Cap'n: this is my way - Pew's way, this is - of
paying of you out.
ARETHUSA. Father, this is the blind man that came while you were
abroad. Sure you'll not listen to HIM. And you, Kit, you, what
is this?
KIT. Captain Gaunt, that blind devil has half-throttled me. He
brought me here - I can't speak - he has almost killed me - and
I'd been drinking too.
GAUNT. And you, David Pew, what do you say?]
PEW. Cap'n, the rights of it is this. Me and that young man
there was partaking in a friendly drop of rum at the ADMIRAL
BENBOW inn; and I'd just proposed his blessed Majesty, when the
young man he ups and says to me: 'Pew,' he says, 'I like you,
Pew: you're a true seaman,' he says; 'and I'm one as sticks at
nothing; and damme, Pew,' he says, 'I'll make your fortune.'
[Can he deny as them was his words? Look at him, you as has
eyes: no, he cannot. 'Come
A distant clock chimes the quarters, and strikes one. Then, the
tap-tapping of Pew's stick is hear without; the key is put into
the lock; and enter PEW, C., he pockets key, and is followed by
KIT, with dark lantern
PEW. Quiet, you lubber! Can't you foot it soft, you that has
daylights and a glim?
KIT. All right, old boy. How the devil did we get through the
door? Shall I knock him up?
PEW. Stow your gab (SEIZING HIS WRIST). Under your breath!
KIT. Avast that! You're a savage dog, aren't you?
PEW. Turn on that glim.
KIT. It's as right as a trivet, Pew. What next? By George,
Pew, I'll make your fortune.
PEW. Here, now, look round this room, and sharp. D'ye see a old
sea-chest?
KIT. See it, Pew? why, d'ye think I'm blind?
PEW. Take me across, and let me feel of her. Mum; catch my
hand. Ah, that's her (FEELING THE CHEST), that's the Golden
Mary. Now, see here, my bo, if you've the pluck of a weevil in a
biscuit, this girl is yours; if you hain't, and think to sheer
off, I'm blind, but I'm deadly.
KIT. You'll keep a civil tongue in your head all the same. I'll
take threats from nobody, blind or not. Let's knock up the
Admiral and be done with it. What I want is to get rid of this
dark lantern. It makes me feel like a housebreaker, by George.
PEW (SEATED ON CHEST). You follow this. I'm sick of drinking
bilge, when I might be rolling in my coach, and I'm dog-sick of
Jack Gaunt. Who's he to be wallowing in gold, when a better man
is groping crusts in the gutter and spunging for rum? Now, here
in this blasted chest is the gold to make men of us for life:
gold, ay, gobs of it; and writin's too - things that if I had the
proof of 'em I'd hold Jack Gaunt to the grindstone till his face
was flat. I'd have done it single-handed; but I'm blind, worse
luck: I'm all in the damned dark here, poking with a stick -
Lord, burn up with lime the eyes that saw it! That's why I raked
up you. Come, out with your iron, and prise the lid off. You
shall touch your snack, and have the wench for nothing; ay, and
fling her in the street, when done.
KIT. So you brought me here to steal did you?
PEW. Ay did I; and you shall. I'm a biter: I bring blood.
KIT. Now, Pew, you came here on my promise, or I'd kill you like
a rat. As it is, out of that door! One, two, three (DRAWING HIS
CUTLASS), and off!
PEW (LEAPING AT HIS THROAT, AND WITH A GREAT VOICE). Help!
murder! thieves!
SCENE III
To these, ARETHUSA, GAUNT, with lights. Stage light. PEW has
KIT down, and is throttling him
PEW. I've got him, Cap'n. What, kill my old commander, and rob
him of his blessed child? Not with old Pew!
GAUNT. Get up, David: can't you see you're killing him?
Unhand, I say.
ARETHUSA. In heaven's name, who is it?
PEW. It's a damned villain, my pretty; and his name, to the best
of my belief, is French.
ARETHUSA. Kit? Kit French? Never!
KIT (RISING). He's done for me. (FALLS ON CHEST.)
[PEW. Don't you take on about him, ducky; he ain't worth it.
Cap'n Gaunt, I took him and I give him up. You was 'ard on me
this morning, Cap'n: this is my way - Pew's way, this is - of
paying of you out.
ARETHUSA. Father, this is the blind man that came while you were
abroad. Sure you'll not listen to HIM. And you, Kit, you, what
is this?
KIT. Captain Gaunt, that blind devil has half-throttled me. He
brought me here - I can't speak - he has almost killed me - and
I'd been drinking too.
GAUNT. And you, David Pew, what do you say?]
PEW. Cap'n, the rights of it is this. Me and that young man
there was partaking in a friendly drop of rum at the ADMIRAL
BENBOW inn; and I'd just proposed his blessed Majesty, when the
young man he ups and says to me: 'Pew,' he says, 'I like you,
Pew: you're a true seaman,' he says; 'and I'm one as sticks at
nothing; and damme, Pew,' he says, 'I'll make your fortune.'
[Can he deny as them was his words? Look at him, you as has
eyes: no, he cannot. 'Come