Poison

Twitters (excited). Yes, what is it?

Officer. I arrest you, in the name of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

Twitters (agonized). The blow is fallen!

Mother (between horror and joy). O that I should have lived to see this day! (Crossing to Clara.) My poor child, your mother’s mother will care for you, while your sinful parent expiates his crimes!

Clara (aside). Why doesn’t Charles come?

Twitters (imploring). Officer, a few moments with my suffering child.

Officer. Couldn’t think of it. Get your hat.

(Enter Hunker, hastily, followed by Charles)

Hunker (recognizing Officer, aside). Thunder. There’s a copp. (Aloud, with tremor.) What’s wanted?

Officer (sententiously). Twitters.

Charles (coming forward). And this man, too —

Hunker (imploring). Shut up! I’ll fix things!

Charles. A few weeks ago he came to me and offered me a large sum for twelve pounds of arsenic – to kill rats, he said, but —

Clara (who has risen in her excitement). But, what?

Twitters (trembling with excitement). But what, Charles?

Charles. But that he might not go elsewhere – for I saw that his end was crime – I sold him powdered sugar!

Twitters. Powdered sugar! A mountain has rolled off my breast! You’re an angel, Charles!

Hunker (enraged). You’re a damned mean apothecary!

Twitters. Officer, you don’t want me now?

Officer. I don’t see how all this makes any difference in the suit of Grimsby et al.v. Twitters, – criminal libel.

Twitters. Grimsby & Weeper!

Officer. Them’s the people. You called them rascally swindlers.

Mother. The makers of my tribute.

Twitters. They didn’t like my letter?

Officer. That’s so. But you’re a stampy old duffer. This gentleman (pointing to Charles) will go surety on your bond?

Hunker. Good day, gents and ladies (starts to go. To Clara). Now our match is off, you’ve got well putty quick. Good day.

Officer. See here (touching his shoulder).

Hunker. I aint libelled nobody.

Officer. Dry up! Come along with me. I want your phiz in the rogues’ gallery.

Hunker (putting hat on one side). I guess I can screw it up so as you won’t know it again. I say, Twitters, I’ve made a suit of clothes out of this, anyhow. (Exeunt.)

Twitters (to Clara). Ah, you sly puss! Charles was the medicine you needed! Here, Charles, she’s your’s and half my fortune with her. Thank heaven, I’m not a blear-eyed Borgia, chumming with a prison-bird.

Clara. I don’t understand you, papa.

Twitters. No reason you should, my dear. Everything is bright and happy, excepting that I shall lose my little girl and be left all alone.

Mother (embracing him). I will take her place, Theophilus. The past shall be forgotten. I will never desert the lonely husband of my departed Sarah.

Twitters (shaking her off. To himself). I shall have to send for Hunker.

Curtain