Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Emily_ (_entering distractedly in bridal costume, with a large rent in her train_).
You have no eyes, I tell you, let me help.
It must be found, or I am all undone!
In vain my cus.h.i.+on I have cut in two 'Twas void of all but stuffing ... Gracious Heavens, To think that all my future bliss depends On the evasive malice of a pin!
[PETER _behind screen, starts violently._
_Peter_ (_aside_). A pin! what dire misgivings wring my heart!
[Hops forward with a cold dignity, holding one foot in his hand.
You seem in some excitement, Emily?
_Emily_ (_wildly_). _You_, Peter!... tell me--have you found a pin?
_Peter_ (_with deadly calm_). Unhappy girl--I _have_!
(_To_ Bridesmaids.) Withdraw awhile, And should we need you, we will summon you.
[_Exeunt_ Bridesmaids; EMILY _and_ PETER _stand facing each other for some moments in dead silence._
The pin is found--for I have trodden on it, And may, for aught I know, be lamed for life.
Speak, Emily, what is that maid's desert Whose carelessness has led to this mishap?
_Emily_ (_in the desperate hope of s.h.i.+elding herself_).
Why, should the fault he traced to any maid, Instant dismissal shall be her reward, With a month's wages paid in lieu of notice!
_Peter_ (_with a pa.s.sionless severity_).
From your own lips I judge you, Emily.
Did they not own just now that you had heard The falling of a pin--yet heeded not?
Behold the outcome of your negligence!
[_Extends his injured foot._
_Emily_. Oh, let me kiss the place and make it well!
_Peter_ (_coldly withdrawing foot_). Keep your caresses till I ask for them.
My wound goes deeper than you wot of yet, And by that disregarded pin is p.r.i.c.ked The iridescent bubble of Illusion!
_Emily_ (_slowly_). Indeed, I do not wholly comprehend.
_Peter._ Have patience and I will be plainer yet.
Mine is a complex nature, Emily; Magnanimous, but still methodical.
An injury I freely can forgive, Forget it (_striking his chest_), never! She who leaves about Pins on the floor to pierce a lover's foot, Will surely plant a thorn within the side Of him whose fate it is to be her husband!
_Emily_ (_dragging herself towards him on her knees_).
Have pity on me, Peter; I was mad!
_Peter_ (_with emotion_). How can I choose but pity thee, poor soul, Who, for the sake of temporary ease, Hast forfeited the bliss that had been thine!
You could not stoop to pick a pin up. Why?
Because, forsooth, 'twas but a paltry pin!
Yet, duly husbanded, that self-same pin Had served you to secure your gaping train, Your self-respect--and Me.
_Emily_ (_wailing_). What have I done?
_Peter_. I will not now reproach you, Emily, Nor would I dwell upon my wounded sole, The pain of which increases momently.
I part from you in friends.h.i.+p, and in proof, That fated instrument I leave with you
[_Presenting her with the pin, which she accepts mechanically._
Which the frail link between us twain has severed.
I can dispense with it, for in my cuff
[_Shows her his coat-cuff, in which a row of pins'-heads is perceptible._
I carry others 'gainst a time of need.
My poor success in life I trace to this That never yet I pa.s.sed a pin unheeded.
_Emily._ And is that all you have to say to me?
_Peter._ I think so--save that I shall wish you well, And pray that henceforth you may bear in mind What vast importance lies in seeming trifles.
_Emily_ (_with a pale smile_). Peter, your lesson is already learned, For precious has this pin become for me, Since by its aid I gain oblivion--thus! [_Stabs herself._
_Peter_ (_coldly._) Nay, these are histrionics, Emily.
[_a.s.sists her to sofa._
_Emily._ I'd skill enough to find a vital spot.
Do not withdraw it yet--my time is short, And I have much to say before I die.
(_Faintly._) Be gentle with my rabbits when I'm gone; Give my canary chickweed now and then.
... I think there is no more--ah, one last word-- (_Earnestly_)--Warn them they must not cut our wedding-cake, And then the pastrycook may take it back!
_Peter_ (_deeply moved_). Would you had shown this thoughtfulness before! [_Kneels by the sofa._
_Emily._ 'Tis now too late, and clearly do I see That I was never worthy of you, Peter.
_Peter_ (_gently_). 'Tis not for me to contradict you now.
You did your best to be so, Emily!
_Emily._ A blessing on you for those generous words!
Now tell me, Peter, how is your poor foot?
_Peter._ The agony decidedly abates, And I can almost bear a boot again.
_Emily._ Then I die happy!... Kiss me, Peter ... ah!
[_Dies_.
_Peter._ In peace she pa.s.sed away. I'm glad of that, Although that peace was purchased by a lie.
