Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas Part 18

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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.

Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas Part 18

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Mr Punch's Model Music Hall Songs and Dramas Part 18 summary

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