The Brass Bottle: A Farcical Fantastic Play in Four Acts

SCENE I

The scene represents Horace's office in Great College Street.

It is a small room, panelled in dark oak. On the left is an old mantelpiece in white and yellow marble. Beyond the fireplace is a door communicating with Pringle's office. On the right is a recessed window, through which the top of an old grey wall with chevaux-de-frise and foliage above can be seen. At the back, on the right, is a door leading to the staircase. On the left of this door, an architect's cabinet, with narrow drawers for plans, &c. On the walls are plans and architectural drawings, a T-square or two, an office calendar, and sections of mouldings, sundry cards of tiling, ornamental fittings, &c., sent out by firms as advertisements to architects. On the right, by the window, is an architect's drawing-table, with a sheet of drawing-paper, tracing-paper, saucers of colour, and other usual requisites of an architect.

The time is 11.30 on the morning after the preceding acts.

As the curtain rises, the Westminster Clock-tower chimes the half-hour.

[To himself, looking at watch.] Half-past eleven already! – and I haven't heard from either of them yet! [With some anxiety.] Very odd! Can anything have – ? [There is a knock at the door on the left. Horace turns with a slight start as Pringle enters.] Oh, it's you, Pringle! [After a pause.] None the worse after last night, I hope?

[Very solemnly.] I am feeling no ill-effects at present. [Coming to centre of room.] Can I have a few words with you?

[Going on designing.] Well, only a very few. We may be interrupted at any moment. I've appointments with two people this morning. Looks as if they'd both overslept themselves.

[Gravely, as he plants himself with his back to the fireplace.] I shall not detain you long. I merely wish to explain my position. When I accepted your invitation last night, I did so with the loyal intention of resigning myself, as cheerfully as possible, to your engagement to Miss Futvoye —

[Wheeling his chair round so as to face him.] Instead of which you put a spoke in my wheel whenever you got the chance! Not behaving quite decently, was it?

[Stiffly.] After last night, I cannot consider you as an authority on decency.

Don't rub it in, Pringle!

As I was saying, I came prepared to leave the field to you – for I am not the sort of man to unsettle any girl's affections —

That's your modesty, Pringle! You don't realise how dangerous you are!

[Ignoring this.] I was going to say – so long as she continues engaged to another. But if Miss Sylvia doesn't recognise yet that you are utterly unworthy of her, she very soon will. Then my chance will come – and I've every intention of taking it.

Sorry to discourage you, my dear Pringle – but your chance hasn't come yet, and it's not over likely to come at all.

She'll never marry you without her father's consent – and if you'd heard him last night in the cab – !

[Easily.] I daresay. But he'll be very different this morning.

[Who has come nearer to him.] Why, you're not trusting to that trumpery seal of yours to convince him?

No. I'm trusting to something – or rather somebody – [turning to him] – who will be more convincing than any seal.

It will take a good deal to reconcile him, or any of them, to such an extremely – er – Oriental interior as you rejoice in.

The Oriental interior has gone, Pringle, – vanished into space!

Nonsense! How could solidly constructed halls like those vanish in a night?

I don't pretend to know how– but they have, and that's enough for me!

[Going back to fireplace.] And this client of yours – has he vanished, too?

Old Wackerbath? Oh, no; he's much too solid to vanish – he's only a trifle late!

I shouldn't make too sure of him.

[Listening.] I fancy he's coming upstairs now. [Rises and goes to door at back, then stops with a sudden recollection.] Unless it's the other one!

The other one? So you've two clients!

No, only one. The other – isn't a client. [Half to himself, as he comes down.] Awkward if they happened to meet! I never thought of that! [There is a loud knock at the door to staircase.] Well, here's one of 'em, anyhow! Come in! [Mr. Wackerbath opens the door, and stands on the threshold, breathing hard, and purple and speechless with rage. Horace goes towards him.] It is Mr. Wackerbath! How do you do? [Pleasantly.] I was beginning to be afraid – [He notices Mr. Wackerbath's expression.] Eh? Has anything happened?

Happened, sir? Yes, something has happened! Which you'll be good enough to explain – if you can!

Oh? [Turning to Pringle.] Perhaps, Pringle, if you wouldn't mind – ?

[Moving to the door on the left.] Oh, by all means!

[To Pringle.] Stop, sir! Don't you run away! For all I know, you may have had a hand in this disgraceful business!

[With dignity.] I occupy the adjoining office, sir, and I am in practice as an architect. But I have no business connection with Mr. Ventimore – none whatever.

[Offering to go.

You will oblige me by staying. I should like your opinion – as an architect – on the way I've been treated.

Oh, if Mr. Ventimore has no objection —

Well – oh, stay if you think proper. [To Mr. Wackerbath, offering armchair on left of table.] Now, sir; if you'll sit down and compose yourself —

I will not sit down, sir, and I find it difficult to compose myself. You know very well why!

I don't, indeed. Unless – unless you've discovered the – the means by which you were induced to come to me yesterday. But, after all, there's no great harm done.

[Bursting with rage.] No great harm! You can stand there and tell me that!

[Calmly.] Certainly. If you prefer to go to some other architect, you're perfectly free to do so.

[Frantically.] Free! Free!! When the damned house is built!

[Together, each starting back.] Built?

Built, sir, built! When my wife and I saw it on our way to the station this morning, we could hardly believe our eyes. But my coachman – who's not given to imagination – saw it as plain as we did. [Horace hears all this with stupefaction at first, and then with growing comprehension.] And, considering I only gave you the commission yesterday afternoon, I should like to know how the devil you managed to put up such a place in the time?

My dear sir, as a professional man, let me assure you it would be impossible – quite impossible. It must have been due to some effect of mirage.

Mirage, indeed! We got out of the carriage and climbed the slope and went all over the building! Are you going to tell me we've been all over a mirage?

[Half to himself.] Oh, the blithering old idiot!

[Turning on him suddenly.] Are you addressing me, sir?

No, no; not you! Of course not. [With a groan.] I told him, like a fool, where the site was – and he's done the rest during the night!

Greeting to ye, O company!

[Sinking helplessly into his chair; half to himself.] It's with you, partner! [In an undertone to Fakrash.] Take off your hat!

[To Mr. Wackerbath.] If I mistake not, thou art the wealthy merchant for whom this my son hath undertaken to erect a mansion?

I am, sir. And you, I presume, are Mr. Ventimore, senior?

No, he isn't – he's no relation of mine!

[To Mr. Wackerbath, proudly.] Is he not an architect of divine skill, and hath he not built thee a palace that might cause even the gall of a Sultan to burst with envy?

It very nearly made me burst, sir, I can tell you that!

I marvel not, for verily it is a lordly dwelling for such as thou.

"Lordly!" You can call it what you like. I call it a tom-fool cross between the Brighton Pavilion and the Palm-house at Kew! No billiard-room – and not a sign of any drainage system! And you have the brass – the – the unblushing effrontery to expect me to accept it as a first-class country-house with every modern convenience!

I must say that, in all my professional experience, I never—

[Rising and approaching Mr. Wackerbath.] I'd better explain, Mr. Wackerbath. It seems that my old – er – friend here has, with the mistaken notion that he was helping me, built this palace for you himself. I haven't seen it – but, from what I know of his talents in that line, it can't be half a bad sort of place – in its way. And, anyhow, I shouldn't dream of making any charge under the circumstances. We make you a present of it – perhaps you didn't understand that? So, surely you will accept it in the – the spirit in which it was intended, what?

Accept it! See the finest position in the neighbourhood occupied by a jerry-built Moorish nightmare? Be the laughing-stock of the whole county? They'd call it "Wackerbath's Folly"! I won't have it on my land a day longer than I can help! I'll go to law, sir, and compel you and your officious partner here to pull the thing down! I – I'll fight the case as long as I can stand!

[Who has been regarding him through this speech with glowering eyes.] "As long as thou canst stand"? That will be for no long period, O thou litigious one! [He points at him with his forefinger.] On all fours – [Mr. Wackerbath starts in speechless indignation, and bends slightly forward] – thankless dog that thou art, and crawl henceforth for the remainder of thy days!

How dare you address me in that way, sir! How – [He suddenly drops forward on his hands.] I will not go down on all fours! Do you hear, sir? I will not!

[Horrified.] But – Great Heavens, sir, you are on all fours!

[Seizing Fakrash's arm.] Now, Fakrash – just you stop this!

[Shaking Horace off.] Let me be! [To Mr. Wackerbath.] Begone, O contemptible of aspect! To thy kennel!

[Almost whining, as he crawls distractedly about on all fours.] I can't! I won't! I can't cross Westminster Bridge like this! What will the officials think at Waterloo, where I've been known and respected for years? How am I to face my wife and family in – in my present position? I insist on getting up!

Then, my dear sir, why don't you? Why humour him?

Why, why? Because I can't help myself! Damn it, sir, do you suppose I'm doing this for my own amusement? [To Fakrash.] Here, turn off your will-power, or whatever it is, and let me up! Do let me up!

[In disgust.] I'll not have it, Fakrash! Let him up at once!

Far be this action from me! This son of a burnt dog hath dared to disdain a palace – therefore let his abode be in the dust for evermore!

[Crawling to Horace.] You – you quite misunderstood me – I haven't a word to say against the palace. It's the very place I wanted! [Crawling up to Fakrash.] If – if you'll only let me up, I – I'll live in it – 'pon my honour I will!

[With authority, to Fakrash.] Let this unfortunate gentleman up, will you! I command you. Both on the head and eye!

[Sullenly, to Horace.] But for the magnitude of thy services – ! Be it as thou wilt. [He extends his arm over Mr. Wackerbath.] Rise! [Mr. Wackerbath rises and drops into chair by table, exhausted.] Depart, and show us the breadth of thy shoulders.

[Going towards him with concern.] My dear sir, you must believe I've had no share in this! I – I really don't know how to apologise —

[With his eyes on Fakrash.] Don't mention it, sir, pray don't mention it. I am perfectly satisfied —perfectly!

You shall be, very soon. Fakrash, clear that palace away at once. Sharp, now!

[Nervously, to Fakrash.] No, no, I couldn't think of troubling you. I – I couldn't wish for a more delightful residential mansion, I assure you!

[Coming to Fakrash.] I've told you to obliterate that palace, Fakrash. Am I to tell you twice?

Hath not this overfed father of dogs – [Mr. Wackerbath starts, but controls his resentment immediately] – expressed his satisfaction with it?

It won't do, Fakrash! Do as you're told – and be quick about it.

Verily such a palace would but be defiled by his presence – therefore let it be annihilated. [He stalks to the window, which flies open at a wave of his hand, after which he faces it and mutters an incantation.] Pfpht! [All start.] It is accomplished. Of the palace and all the splendours therein there remaineth not a trace!

[Going up to Mr. Wackerbath.] Mr. Wackerbath, you will find on your return that that is so. I've only to apologise once more for all the – er – inconvenience you've been put to.

[Near the door.] Not at all – not at all, I assure you. [Turning to Fakrash.] I haven't quite caught your name, my dear sir, but you must allow me to thank you for the – ah – very handsome manner in which you have met me.

[With a menacing movement.] Begone, I say! [Mr. Wackerbath snatches his hat from cabinet.] Or thou mayst find thyself in some yet more unfortunate predicament.

[At the door.] Quite so – quite so! Er – delightful weather, isn't it? [Opening door.] Good morning, gentlemen. [Fakrash makes another movement.] Good morning.

[Going towards the door to his office, and lowering his voice.] I don't think you'll see any more of Mr. Wackerbath after this.

[In an undertone.] No, I've lost him– thanks to that old busybody over there. He's done my business!

It serves you right for having him about. Where on earth did you pick him up? Who is he?

Surely you don't need to be told! Why, he's the old Jinnee who was inside the bottle.

Rats! – excuse the vulgarity!

Hang it! You must have noticed something queer about him!

I have– and if he's the person you're relying on to remove the Professor's objections, I think the old gentleman should be warned against seeing him.

[Turns from window to Horace.] Receive news! Henceforth I shall cease to busy myself about thine affairs.

[Sardonically.] That's the best news I've heard from you – so far.

[Gloomily.] Uneasiness hath entered into my heart and I am sore troubled.

So you ought to be after your latest performance. I suppose you know you've wrecked my chances as an architect? But never mind that now – have you found time to look up the Professor yet?

I have but lately parted from him.

And you went to Cottesmore Gardens in that kit? [Amused in spite of himself.] If you could only see yourself!

Didst thou not order me to assume such apparel as is worn in this city?

I didn't say on the 5th of November! However, you saw him. Did you get your seal back?

Nay, for the sage protested that he had mislaid it!

Oh, well, never mind – it'll turn up in time. What I really want to know is whether you convinced him that you'd come out of the brass bottle?

[Sombrely.] As to that I can tell thee naught. On hearing that I came from thee, he reviled me as a person of no reputation, and threatened to summon a certain constable and have me delivered into custody. Whereupon I took measures – [he smiles cunningly] – to ensure his silence.

[Falling back in his chair in sudden terror.] His —silence! You – you old devil! You – you've not —killed him!

Nay, nay, I have not so much as harmed a hair of his head.