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| Cymon. | Now you may go. | |||||
| (GRYNDON disappears, and CYMON takes the sack.) | ||||||
| (To himself.) | A fortune! Dear Janetta! | |||||
| (He shows the sack full of coins.) | ||||||
| I'm rich! | ||||||
| GRYNDON appears, his clothes all torn and himself the picture of misery. | ||||||
| I hope you feel a little better. | ||||||
| Gryndon. | Better! I'm ill, You've got my coin and papers, | |||||
| (Aside.) | I'm like boiled mutton, done to rags, with capers — But I will be avenged. |
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| Cymon. | You send your daughter; | |||||
| And also for this sack you'll send a porter. | ||||||
| Gryndon (servilely). Oh, anything for you, o'course, young mister, | ||||||
| My turn will come; but oh! that was a twister. | ||||||
| Enter JANETTA. | ||||||
| (Aloud.) | Ah! here she comes. | |||||
| Cymon. | Janetta! | |||||
| Janetta. | Dear Cy-mon! | |||||
| (They run into each other's arms.) | ||||||
| Gryndon (aside, maliciously). | ||||||
| All right. Beware young man. I'm off! I'm "on!" (Exit.) | ||||||
| Cymon. | Now all this money, dear, belongs to both — To you and me. Your father wasn't loth To yield to my request; in fact he jumped at it, He jumped, in fact, so high, he quite got pumped at it. |
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| Janetta. | And now we'll marry, and be very happy, And spare a little for my poor old pappy. |
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| (Re-enter GRYNDON, leading MARQUIS, and two CONSTABLES, unperceived by JANETTA and CYMON.) | ||||||
| We'll take a little house down by a brook Live on the bank, and by our banker's book Our house shall be a cheerful villa. |
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| Cymon. | Where? | |||||
| Not by a brook — they've Veeping Villers there. No, no — A little cottage we will find I see before me — |
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| Janetta (screaming). | Cymon! whip behind! | |||||
| (They seize him, pinioning his arms, so that he cannot play.) | ||||||
| Too late! Papa and Marquis, why this bobbery? | ||||||
| Marquis. | This person is accused of highway robbery! | |||||
| Gryndon. | He stole my sack, he tore my coat and smalls, He made me dance by playing Tearer's Halls. |
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| Marquis. | The case is proven. I'm a magis-trate, So, sentence him at once — we needn't wait, He's to be shot at once, with his own bow. |
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| Cymon. | Oh! Bow street magistrate. | |||||
| Marquis. | Be off! Go, go! | |||||
| CYmon. | Oh, cruel fate! The verdict is unjust. Why kill me like a fowl? You see I'm trussed. |
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| Janetta. | Let me be trussed with him. | |||||
| Cymon (aside to her). | Oh, trust to me, | |||||
| And I will yet regain my libertee. | ||||||
| Marquis & Gryndon. | ||||||
| Away, away! We will not hear a word! The sentence, the sentence, shall not be deferred. |
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| Janetta & Cymon. | In pity stay! | |||||
| The Others. | He must away! Shoot him, shoot him, Shoot him through the head! Then when he's killed He'll be as good as dead. |
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| Cymon (plaintively.) | ||||||
| One last request I'll make, you'll take My life, my life, 'tis true. But grant me, oh! before I go, My last request — oh, do! |
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| Marquis. | What is it? Say. | |||||
| Cymon. | 'Tis, may I play The fiddle? |
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| Gryndon. | Nay. | |||||
| Marquis. | I say he may. | |||||
| Gryndon. | But do you know? | |||||
| Marquis. | I'll have it so — Unbind his arms. |
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| Cymon. | Give me the bow. (The bow is given to him.) | |||||
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Page modified 23 December 2012