The Unforseen Return Part 5

Roger: There's no sort of malicious trick they haven't put on me. Sometimes they mock me when I'm unable to move my feet. Sometimes they shave my beard with a red hot razor--and without fail every night they affront me with the stench of sulfur.

Richly: And now I say again, you're putting me on.

Roger: Not at all, sir. What hasn't happened to me? We've brought the best exorcists in London. There's no way to force them out; this spirit is furiously tenacious--he's the one that possesses women when they have the devil in them.

Richly: A horrible thought has occurred to me. Tell me, I beg you, have they been in the wine cellar?

Roger: Alas, sir, they forage everywhere.

Richly: I am lost. I buried fifty thousand pounds in that wine cellar.

Roger: Fifty thousand pounds! Sir, there are fifty thousand pounds in your house?

Richly: In the wine cellar.

Roger: In the wine cellar. That's exactly where they hold their Sabbath.-- Oh, if only we had known this. And where in the wine cellar if you please?

Richly: To the left as you enter. Under a big block of stone near the door.

Roger: Fifty thousand pounds under a big block of stone! You should have told us--we could have saved you from this unlucky pa.s.s. It's on the left as you go in, you say.

Richly: Yes. The place is easy to find.

Roger: I'll easily find it. But you know, sir, that it's worth your life-- you're risking your neck to go in there? And the whole sum is in gold?

Richly: All in pure gold.

Roger: (aside) Good. Easier to carry.

(Aloud) Oh, as to that, sir, since we know the cause of the evil it won't be hard to find a remedy. I believe we'll--manage. Leave it to me.

Richly: I have trouble believing all you tell me. You tell me so many stories about these matters that I don't know what to believe. I'll trust you for now, but I'll find out what's what. What reversals one sees in life! One can't make a little money without men or the devil trying to get it away from you. The devil is not going to have it!

(Exit Richly)

(Enter Lucy)

Lucy: Ah, my poor Roger. Is it true that Mr. Edward's father has returned?

Roger: Only too true, but to console us, I have found a treasure.

Lucy: A treasure?

Roger: In the wine cellar, as you enter--to the left under a large black stone--a sack which contains fifty thousand pounds.

Lucy: Fifty thousand pounds.

Roger: Yes, child, and I tell you that will be plenty--run find the sack, the sack--hurry!

Lucy: But--

Roger: The devil take you with your buts. Mr. Richly will return. Save yourself--hide, quickly. To the treasure. To the treasure.

(Exit Lucy)

We are about to have a nice explanation. Now to navigate your s.h.i.+p and bring it into port.

(Reenter Richly)

Richly: You see I wasn't long. I found my porters near here and I've told them to wait because it seems a good idea to store my goods in the house my son has bought.

Roger: A new fix!

Richly: I don't recognize the place too well, so you can take me there yourself.

Roger; I want to, sir, but--

Richly: But what! The Devil isn't master there, too, is he?

Roger: Mrs. Prim is still living there.

Richly: Still living there?

Roger: Yes, indeed. It's agreed that she will stay out her term, and--as her mind is weak--she gets in a furious state whenever anyone talks to her about vacating. She's really crazy, you see.

Richly: I'll talk to her in a way that will calm her down.

Roger: You!

(Aside) All is lost.

Richly: You're making me very impatient. I absolutely want to speak to her, I tell you.

Roger: Well, in that case--talk to her--because happily, here she comes. But remember she's a basket case.

Mrs. Prim: (entering) Well, here's Mr. Richly returned, it seems.

Roger: (low to Mrs. Prim) Yes, Madam, indeed it is he--but he's lost his wits. His s.h.i.+p was wrecked and he drank salt water. It turned his head.

Mrs. Prim: What a shame--the poor man!

Roger: If he happens by chance to accost you, he may say something odd. Don't pay any attention. We're going to have him locked up.

(To Richly) If you speak to her, have a little patience with her weakness. Think of her as a clock that's a bit cuckoo.

Richly: Leave her to me.

Mrs. Prim: There's something strange and distracted about his manner.