Plays of William E. Henley and R.L. Stevenson Part 38

GAUNT

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 _pa.s.ses 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 at Lagos, and almost slashed the shoulder off of him one morning before breakfast?

ARETHUSA. You leave this house.

PEW. Hey? (_he crosses and seizes her again_) Don't you fight, my lovely one: now don't make old blind Pew forget his manners before a female. What! you will? Stop that, or I'll have the arm right out of your body. (_He gives her arm a wrench_.)

ARETHUSA. O! help, help!

PEW. Stash your patter, d.a.m.n you. (ARETHUSA _gives in_.) Ah, I thought it: Pew's way, Pew's way. Now, look you here, my lovely woman. If you sling in another word that isn't in answer to my questions, I'll pull your j'ints out one by one. Where's the Commander?

ARETHUSA. I have said: he is abroad.

PEW. When's he coming aboard again?

ARETHUSA. At any moment.

PEW. Does he keep his strength?

ARETHUSA. You'll see when he returns. (_He wrenches her arm again_.) Ah!

PEW. Is he still on piety?

ARETHUSA. O, he is a Christian man!

PEW. A Christian man, is he? Where does he keep his rum?

ARETHUSA. Nay, you shall steal nothing by my help.

PEW. No more I shall (_becoming amorous_). You're a lovely woman, that's what you are; how would you like old Pew for a sweetheart, hey?

He's blind, is Pew, but strong as a lion; and the s.e.x is his 'ole delight. Ah, them beautiful, beautiful lips! A kiss! Come!

ARETHUSA. Leave go, leave go!

PEW. Hey? you would?

ARETHUSA. Ah! (_She thrusts him down_, _and escapes to door_, _R._)

SCENE VII

PEW (_picking himself up_). Ah, she's a bouncer, she is! Where's my stick? That's the sort of female for David Pew. Didn't she fight? and didn't she struggle? and shouldn't I like to twist her lovely neck for her? Pew's way with 'em all: the prettier they was, the uglier he were to 'em. Pew's way: a way he had with him; and a d.a.m.ned good way too.

(_Listens at L. door_.) That's her bedroom, I reckon; and she's double-locked herself in. Good again: it's a crying mercy the Admiral didn't come in. But you always loses your 'ed, Pew, with a female: that's what charms 'em. Now for business. The front door. No bar; only a big lock (_trying keys from his pocket_). Key one; no go. Key two; no go. Key three; ah, that does it. Ah! (_feeling key_) him with the three wards and the little 'un: good again! Now if I could only find a mate in this rotten country 'amlick: one to be eyes to me; I can steer, but I can't conn myself, worse luck! If I could only find a mate! And to-night, about three bells in the middle watch, old Pew will take a little cruise, and lay aboard his ancient friend the Admiral; or, barring that, the Admiral's old sea-chest-the chest he kept the s.h.i.+ners in aboard the brig. Where is it, I wonder? in his berth, or in the cabin here?

It's big enough, and the bra.s.s bands is plain to feel by. (_Searching about with stick_.) Dresser-chair-(_knocking his head on the cupboard_.) Ah!-O, corner cupboard. Admiral's chair-Admiral's table-Admiral's-hey!

what's this?-a book-sheepskin-smells like a 'oly Bible. Chair (_his stick just avoids the chest_). No sea-chest. I must have a mate to see for me, to see for old Pew: him as had eyes like a eagle! Meanwhile, rum. Corner cupboard, of course (_tap-tapping_). Rum-rum-rum. Hey?

(_He listens_.) Footsteps. Is it the Admiral? (_With the whine_.) Kind Christian friends-

SCENE VIII

PEW; to him GAUNT

GAUNT. What brings you here?

PEW. Cap'n, do my ears deceive me? or is this my old commander?