What will they say at Brompton? A Comedetta, in One Act.

CHARACTERS AT HOME. MR. SAMUEL TODD (of Cozy Cottage, MR. F. ROBSON. Brompton) MR. CROKER MR. G. COOKE. MRS. TODD MISS WYNDHAM. PERKS MISS BROMLEY. CHARACTERS ABROAD. SIGNOR TODDINI MR. F. ROBSON. JACOPO TERREBOLI MR. ADDISON. GRIMBALDI MR. H. COOPER. A BRIGAND MR. FRANKS. MRS. TODD MISS WYNDHAM. MARIETTA MISS MARSTON.

TIME OF REPRESENTATION—50 Minutes.

Costumes.

MR. SAMUEL TODD.—_First Dress_; Large morning gown, black trowsers. Second Dress; Foreign cut black coat, full black trousers, white Italian hat, with black hat band. Third Dress; same as first.

CROKER.—Blue coat, with yellow buttons, black trousers, colored silk handkerchief tied round his throat, broad brimmed black hat.

MRS. TODD.—_First Dress_; Muslin morning dress and cap. Second Dress; Black silk dress, mantilla and bonnet. Third Dress; same as first.

JACOPO TERREBOLI / GRIMBALDI / BRIGAND } Brigand costumes.

PERKS.—Light coloured muslin dress and apron.

MARIETTA.—Italian peasant girl’s dress.

WHAT WILL THEY SAY AT BROMPTON?

SCENE I.

A Parlour in Cozy Cottage, Brompton, (2_nd_ grooves) tastefully furnished; door of entrance, R. 1 E.; door of Todd’s room, L.1 E.; window, with curtains drawn, C. flat.—_A large leather travelling case on chair_, R. C.; carpet bag, hat case, bandboxes, and a pair of boots on the floor; fishing rod, telescope, and umbrellas scattered about the room, which exhibits the disorder indicative of preparation for a journey. A table, C., on which is a writing desk, two candles lighted, a chamber candlestick unlighted, and work basket. An arm chair, L., with concertina and case on it;—_chairs_ R. and L. of table.

MRS. TODD and PERKS the maid servant are engaged packing the travelling case on chair, R.

MRS. T. There, there, that will do. My pink satin dress there; my handkerchiefs; my collars—

PERKS. (snatching a pair of Wellington boots from the floor) And here’s master’s new boots, mum, can’t you make a tiny bit of room for them between your lace cap and your Indian shawl?

MRS. T. Perks, I’m astonished at your suggesting such an association:—put them in the carpet bag.

PERKS. La, mum, there’s not room for a tooth-pick in the carpet bag; how we’re ever to get it’s jaws closed again I don’t know; and there’s a dressing case, and a box of cigars, and a fishing rod, and two umbrellas, a telescope and a pair of slippers, to be put up yet!

MRS. T. Where’s my ugly? What can have happened it?

TODD enters, L. 1 E., with a Bradshaw’s Guide in his hand.

TODD. Here it is! I’ve found it!

MRS. T. (R.) My ugly?

TODD. (L.) No, my dear, our route. I’ve been studying Bradshaw all the morning, and I find that if we leave—page 49—I mean, if we leave the Paddington—no—the Euston-square Station—at 7 o’clock, a.m., we can get by the Oxford Junction to—to—page—(turning over the leaves) page—page—no—that’s the Tilbury and Southend Line. Ah! here it is!—we’re then to take the express train to—to York—where we meet the Midland Counties, you perceive, and then see—page 74—(turning over the leaves) 74—74—74—74—where there’s a branch to the Eastern Counties that takes us to Norwich—and when we get to Norwich there’s a junction that takes us—somewhere—I don’t precisely know where—but I have a strong reliance on Bradshaw.

MRS. T. I wish you would put down Bradshaw, Todd, and exert the limited powers with which heaven has blessed you, and help me to pack and cord these things—you leave everything for me to do.

TODD. My dear Laura, there’s the difference between us—you’re remarkable for physical energy—I for contemplative repose. The study of Bradshaw fatigues one’s mind so. (PERKS, who has been clearing off luggage, R., gets round at back to L. and takes up concertina from chair) Mind that concertina, Perks—it’s the only instrument I play—(takes it from her, C.), and having devoted myself for six months to “My Mary Ann,” I rather flatter myself I shall create an extraordinary sensation amongst the foreign echoes this summer. (he commences playing “_My Mary Ann_,” when a knock is heard) Hah! who can this be?

PERKS crosses at back and exits, R. 1 E.

MRS. T. I dare say my uncle Croker—come to bid us good bye.

TODD. Your uncle, my dear, is a very worthy man. I should feel bound to respect his venerable hairs, if he had any left to respect, but that hydropathic habit he has—of throwing cold water upon everything—is very disagreeable.

Enter CHOKER, R. 1 E., followed by PERKS, who collects some of the scattered articles and carries them off, R. 1 E.

MRS. T. (kissing CROKER) My dear uncle! (CROKER crosses to C.)

TODD. (L. shaking his hand) How d’ye do, Croker? How are you? Never saw you look so jolly in your life. (aside) Dismal as a cherub on a tombstone! It was very kind of you to call; we start on our tour in the morning, so you’re just in time to see the last of us.

CROK. ( C.) The last of you! Ah, Samuel, I hope there may be nothing prophetic in your words, but I have a melancholy foreboding—

MRS. T. (R.) For goodness sake, uncle, don’t talk of melancholy forebodings—when we are looking forward to the Continent.

TODD. Aye, what do you think of six months amidst the classic scenes of Italy. Fancy smoking a cigar on the summit of Vesuvius; think of dancing the Tarantula amidst the ruins of Pompeii; imagine the delicious maccaroni—and the lazzaroni—and all the other oni’s. (forgetting himself) Picture to yourself the indescribable rapture of floating on the moonlit sea with a lovely creature beside you.

MRS. T. (indignantly) Mr. Todd!

TODD. (recollecting himself crosses C. to MRS. TODD) Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah! Of course my dear, I was thinking of you—idealizing you as it were—in a poetic dream. (crosses back to L.) By the bye, Croker, is there anything we can do for you abroad? We expect to be in Boulogne to-morrow night.

CROK. ( C.) Well, I don’t wish to alarm you—but I had once a dear friend who was lost in crossing to Boulogne.

TODD. (L.) Lost! hem! dear me! But with a good steamer you’re tolerably safe, I believe.

CROK. I’ve heard of several appalling catastrophes to steamers. Now, if you’d like to hear a few of them. (sits on L. of table, C.)

MRS. T. (seated R. of table) Oh, dear, no! Don’t trouble yourself, uncle.

CROK. The trouble is nothing; it is to me always a melancholy pleasure to prepare my friends for the worst.