THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP.

ACT I.

SCENE FIRST.-Nelly's Grandfather discovered with his back to the audience, gazing through a small window. A solitary candle nearly burnt out on a chair. A truckle bed, two chairs, and table on.)

GRAND. (leaving the window) I can't see her coming, what can have happened-nothing to her? No, no, she is too innocent, too good-yet she is long over her usual time-and I want the money to make her rich. Not for myself-for her; she shall be a lady spite of all yet-I'll do it yet-I will-I will-it's all within my grasp-goldglittering shining-heaps-heaps (stretching out his hand convulsively, grasping) mine-mine-hers-ha, ha! We'll cheat them yet, Nelly- -we will (a slight tap heard at side door, R.) Who's there? (taking up candle and moving towards door.)

NELLY. Only I, Grandfather-Nelly.

GRAND. (opening door hastily) I knew she would not disappoint me.

Enter NELLY, followed by MASTER HUMPHREY, R. D. Who's this, child?

NELLY. A friend, dear Grandfather, and a kind one. He assisted me in the streets, when I lost my way in the narrow dark turnings. I was frightened and knew not which way to go, when this kind old gentleman offered to guide me home to you to you-and I am so thankful, so happy, that I could do no less than bring him in for you to share my happiness in thanking him too.

GRAND. I do, from my soul-heartily (shaking HUMPHREY'S hand, patting NELLY's head) But how could'st thou miss thy way? What if I had lost thee, Nell ?

NELLY. I would have found my way back to you, Grandfather-never fear.

GRAND. (kissing her) Bless you! Now prepare for bed (aside to her) and give me the money, I must go. (she gives him a small canvas purse) No more? Robber-dog-he would cheat me.

NELLY. Hush, Grandfather, you forget (pointing to HUмPHREY)

GRAND. Never fear. You must be tired, sir. you for your trouble?

Go, love, go (exit NELLY, L. 1 E.) (placing chair) How can I thank

MAST. H. By taking more care of your grandchild another time, my good friend.

GRAND. More care-more care of Nelly? Why who ever loved a child as I love her?

MAST. H. I don't think you consider

GRAND. I don't consider? I don't consider her? Ah, how little you know of the truth.

MAST. H. Then why trust her out in the gloomy streets alone at a late hour? You know danger must beset her every step-besides it always grieves me to contemplate the initiation of children into the ways of life so youngsharing our sorrows before they are capable of entering into our enjoyments.

GRAND. (sighing) The children of the poor know but few enjoyments.

MAST. H. But forgive me for saying this, you are surely not so very poor?

GRAND. She is not my child-her mother was, and she was poor. I save nothing-not a penny-though I live as you see, but-(whispering)-she-Nelly, shall be rich one of these days, and a fine lady. Don't you think ill of me, because 1 use her help-she gives it cheerfully-God knows that this one child is the thought and object of my life, and yet He never prospers me-no, never!

Re-enter NELLY, L. 1 E.

NELLY. I have prepared for bed, Grandfather-but we must wait for Kit, poor fellow, he has had no tea, and will be so hungry. (laughing) How he will eat and open his huge good-humoured mouth-won't he Grandfather? (takes his hand.)

GRAND. Foolish girl! she always laughs at poor Kit. (a light knock at the door, R., and noise of feet scraping.) NELLY. (starting up laughing, and clapping her hands)

That's dear old Kit come back at last. (runs and opens the door, R.) Come in, we've all been waiting for you.

Enter KIT, door R., he pauses on seeing Master Humphrey, grins, rubbing his head.

This is poor Kit. (laughs and exits L. 2 E.)

GRAND. A long way wasn't it, Kit?

KIT. (grinning) It was a goodish stretch, master.
GRAND. Did you find the house easily?

KIT. Why then, not over and above easy, master.
GRAND. Of course you have come back hungry?

KIT. Why, then, I do consider myself rather so, master. Re-enter NELLY, L., with a plate of bread and cheese, and a mug of beer.

NELLY. I have brought your supper, Kit.

KIT. (grinning) Thank ye, Miss Nelly. (takes it, retires into a corner of the stage-eats voraciously, occasionally laughing-NELLY joining. He almost chokes himself with bread.)

GRAND. (sighing) Ah, sir, you don't know what you say, when you say that I don't consider her. Come hither, Nell. (she runs to him) Do I love thee? Say, do I love thee or no?

NELLY. (laying her head on his bosom) Yes, yes-indeed -indeed you do-Kit knows you do.

KIT. (speaking with his mouth fnll) Noboby isn't such a fool as to say he doesn't.

GRAND. She is poor now, but I say again the time is coming when she shall be rich.

NELLY. I am very happy as I am, Grandfather.

GRAND. Tush-tush! thou dost not know now. Kit, near midnight, boy, and you still here? Get home-get home, and be true to your time in the morning. Good night

there bid him good night, Nell.

NELLY. Good night, Kit.

KIT. Good night, Miss Nell. (laughing)

GRAND. And thank this gentleman, but for whose care I might have lost my little girl to-night.

KIT. No, no, master, that won't do.

GRAND. What do you mean?

KIT. Why I'd have found her, master-I'd have found her—I'd bet I'd find her if she was above ground, I would as quick as any body. (laughs and eats. Exit laughing, R. D. NELLY, L.)

GRAND. I thank you humbly for what you have done tonight. Indeed I am not careless of her.

MAST. H. May I ask, has she nobody to care for her but you?

GRAND. No, no-she wants no other-by waking or sleeping, by night or day-in sickness or health, she is the one object of my life. Yet it is a weary life for an old manweary-weary-but there is a great end to gain.

NELLY re-enters with hat, coat, and stick, L.

MAST. H. These are not mine, my dear.
NELLY. No, they are Grandfather's.

MAST. H. But he is not going out to-night.

NELLY. Oh, yes he is. (smiling)

MAST. H. And what becomes of you, my pretty one? NELLY. Me? I stay here, of course-I always do. (GRANDFATHER comes down stage-she helps him on with cloak and hat.)

MAST. H. (aside) Poor child! to be left alone in this gloomy place, all the long dreary night.

GRAND. Now, sir, I am ready. Sleep soundly, Nelland do not forget thy prayers, my sweet.

NELLY. No, indeed-they make me feel so happy. GRAND. Early in the morning I shall be at home. NELLY. You'll not ring twice-the bell wakes me, even in the middle of a dream.

GRAND. Bless thee a hundred times, dear! Bless thee! (kisses NELLY-folding her in his arms. She kisses HUMPHREY, accompanies them to the door, R.—when they have passed out, she fastens it and returns to table-replacing light. Music.) NELLY. (arranging her bed which stands in the room) I wonder what made that good old gentleman ask me if I staid here alone? and when I told him I always did, he appeared alarmed, and murmured to himself "Poor child!" I see nothing fearful in being alone-nothing, unless it is the strange thoughts that will sometimes steal over me, of the danger dear Grandfather may be exposed to-wandering forth at this late hour. What can take him from home every night? I have heard of wild tales-dark secret deeds committed in great towns-in the lonely streets-escaping detection for many years. Heaven guard my poor Grandfather from all such dangers. (music. She puts on a night robe-extinguishes candle. The moonbeams fill the apartment. Kneels in prayer, and throws herself on couch. Closed in. Clock strikes one.)

SCENE TWO.-Exterior of the Old Curiosity Shop. Moonlight. A light seen in the windows, through the shutters. Enter MASTER HUMPHREY and the GRANDFATHER from the door in the house. The latter locks it.

GRAND. Sir, our ways are widely different-bless you for your kindness to my little girl. She is my all-my only treasure-and though poor now, shall soon be richaye, very-she shall mix among the gayest and the prettiest, and take her station with the best. I have borne great poverty myself, and would spare her the sufferings that poverty carries with it-I would spare her the miseries that brought her mother-my own dear child—to an early grave-I would leave her with that which shall place her beyond the reach of want for ever. You mark me, sir, she shall have no pittance, but a fortune-a fortune-and I go now to give it her. Yes, she shall have it—she shall.

(Exit R. Looking back earnestly at the house. MAST. H. (watching him) There must be some hidden mystery in this, or he surely would not leave that dear child shut up in yonder gloomy dwelling, without a human being to comfort or advise her during the solitary hours of night. Does he not think of the manifold dangers that might beset her? Fire-robberies-and even murder(looking at house) How cold, bleak, and lifeless the house looks! The old man must leave this place nightly for no good purpose. And that sweet girl, too-it is cruel, thoughtless in the extreme. His wandering manner and restless looks speak volumes-his seeming affection for his granddaughter, may not be inconsistent with villainy of the worst kind. The thing is a contradiction, or why leave her thus? (a voice of laughing and singing heard without· looking off, R.) These drunken staggerers may disturb her repose. (retires up.)

Enter RICHARD SWIVELLER and FRED TRENT, B., both intoxicated, the first much so.

SwIV. (singing) Too-ral-i-it-ti-ha, ha! Fred, my boyI'm-hic-rum ti tum-and no mistake.

TRENT. You're a fool!

SwIV. Gently, Freddy, you're my friend, and I know it -hic-give us your daddle, my noble Roman. (takes his hand) You're a trump-so am I-only the sun's strong in my eyes. Glorious turn out to-night, eh? hic. (sin gs) Rosy wine!"

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