Olla Podrida

Enter Edward

Edw. My lovely, my beautiful, my adored Clementina! I have called upon Mr Gumarabic, who tells me that your uncle cannot live through the twenty-four hours, and I have flown here, my sweetest, dearest, to—to—

Clem. To see me, Edward: surely there needs no excuse for coming?

Edw. To reiterate my ardent, pure, and unchangeable affection, my dearest Clementina to assure you, that in sickness or in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, as they say in the marriage ceremony, I am yours till death us do part.

Clem. I accept the vow, dearest Edward. You know too well my heart for me to say more.

Edw. I do know your heart, Clementina, as it is,—nor do I think it possible that you could change;—still, sometimes—that is for a moment when I call to mind that, by your uncle’s death, as his favourite niece, living with him for so many years, you may soon find yourself in possession of thousands,—and that titled men may lay their coronets at your feet,—then, Clementina—

Clem. Ungenerous and unkind!—Edward, I almost hate you. Is a little money, then, to sway my affections? Shame, Edward, shame on you! Is such your opinion of my constancy? (Weeps.) You must judge me by your own heart.

Edw. Clementina! dearest Clementina!—I did!—but rather—that is,—I was not in earnest;—but when we value any object as I value you,—it may be forgiven, if I feel at times a little jealous;—yes, dearest, jealous!

Clem. ’Twas jealousy then, Edward, which made you so unkind? Well, then, I can forgive that.

Edw. Nothing but jealousy, dearest! I cannot help, at times, representing you surrounded by noble admirers,—all of them suing to you,—not for yourself, but for your money, tempting you with their rank;—and it makes me jealous, horribly jealous! I cannot compete with lords, Clementina,—a poor barrister without a brief.

Clem. I have loved you for yourself, Edward. I trust you have done the same toward me.

Edw. Yes; upon my soul, my Clementina!

Clem. Then my uncle’s disposition of his property will make no difference in me. For your sake, my dear Edward, I hope he will not forget me. What’s that? Mrs Jellybags is coming out of the room. Haste, Edward;—you must not be seen here. Away, dearest!—and may God bless you.

Edw. (kisses her hand.) Heaven preserve my adored, my matchless, ever-to-be-loved Clementina.

    (Exeunt separately.)

Scene 2.—The sick room—Mr Cadaverous, lying on sofa-bed—Mr Seedy, the lawyer, sitting by his side, with papers on the table before him.

Seedy. I believe now, sir, that every thing is arranged in your will according to your instructions. Shall I read it over again; for although signed and witnessed, you may make any alteration you please by a codicil.

Cad. No, no. You have read it twice, Mr Seedy, and you may leave me now. I am ill, very ill, and wish to be alone.

Seedy (folds up his papers and rises.) I take my leave, Mr Cadaverous, trusting to be long employed as your solicitor.

Cad. Afraid not, Mr Seedy. Lawyers have no great interest in heaven. Your being my solicitor will not help me there.

Seedy (coming forward as he goes out.) Not a sixpence to his legal adviser! Well, well! I know how to make out a bill for the executors.

    (ExitSeedy, and enter Mrs Jellybags.)

Jel. (with her handkerchief to her eyes.) Oh dear! oh dear! oh, Mr Cadaverous, how can you fatigue and annoy yourself with such things as wills?

Cad. (faintly.) Don’t cry, Mrs Jellybags. I’ve not forgotten you.

Jel. (sobbing.) I can’t—help—crying. And there’s Miss Clementina,—now that you are dying,—who insists upon coming in to see you.

Cad. Clementina, my niece, let her come in, Mrs Jellybags; I feel I’m going fast,—I may as well take leave of every body.

Jel. (sobbing.) Oh dear! oh dear! You may come in, Miss.

Enter Clementina

Clem. My dear uncle, why have you, for so many days, refused me admittance? Every morning have I asked to be allowed to come and nurse you, and for more than three weeks have received a positive refusal.

Cad. Refusal! Why I never had a message from you.

Clem. No message! Every day I have sent, and every day did Mrs Jellybags reply that you would not see me.

Cad. (faintly.) Mrs Jellybags,—Mrs Jellybags—

Clem. Yes, uncle; it is true as I stand here;—and my brother Thomas has called almost every day, and John every Sunday, the only day he can leave the banking-house; and cousins William and James have both been here very often.

Cad. Nobody told me! I thought every one had forgotten me. Why was I not informed, Mrs Jellybags?

Jel. (in a rage.) Why, you little, story-telling creature, coming here to impose upon your good uncle! You know that no one has been here—not a soul;—and as for yourself, you have been too busy looking after a certain gentleman ever to think of your poor uncle;—that you have;—taking advantage of his illness to behave in so indecorous a manner. I would have told him every thing, but I was afraid of making him worse.

Clem. You are a false, wicked woman!

Jel. Little impudent creature,—trying to make mischief between me and my kind master, but it won’t do. (ToClementinaaside.) The will is signed, and I’ll take care he does not alter it;—so do your worst.

Cad. (faintly.) Give me the mixture, Mrs —

Clem. I will, dear uncle. (Pours out the restorative mixture in a glass.)

Jel. (going back.) You will, Miss,—indeed! but you shan’t.

Clem. Be quiet, Mrs Jellybags;—allow me at least to do something for my poor uncle.

Clem. Give me the mix—

Jel. (preventsClementinafrom giving it, and tries to take it from her.) You shan’t, Miss!—You never shall.

Cad. Give me the —

(Mrs JellybagsandClementinascuffle, at lastClementinathrows the contents of the glass into Mrs Jellybags’sface.)

Clem. There, then!—since you will have it.

Jel. (in a rage.) You little minx!—I’ll be revenged for that. Wait a little till the will is read,—that’s all;—See if I don’t bundle you out of doors,—that I will.

Clem. As you please, Mrs Jellybags; but pray give my poor uncle his restorative mixture.

Jel. To please you?—Not I! I’ll not give him a drop till I think proper. Little, infamous, good-for-nothing—

Cad. Give me—oh!