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_ ACT I - SCENE V
Mrs. CARVER'S Dressing-room, HONOR McBRIDE and MISS BLOOMSBURY discovered.
Honor.
How will I know, Miss Bloomsbury, when it will be twelve o'clock?
Bloom.
You'll hear the clock strike: but I suspect you'se don't understand the clock yet--well, you'll hear the workmen's bell.
Honor.
I know, ma'am, oh, I know, true--only I was flurried, so I forgot.
Bloom.
Flurried! but never be flurried. Now mind and keep your head upon your shoulders, while I tell you all your duty--you'll just ready this here room, your lady's dressing-room; not a partical of dust let me never find, petticlarly behind the vindor shuts.
Honor.
Vindor shuts!--where, ma'am?
Bloom.
The shuts of the vindors--did you never hear of a vindor, child?
Honor.
Never, ma'am.
Bloom.
(pointing to a window)
Don't tell me! why, your head is a wool-gathering! Now, mind me, pray--see here, always you put that there,--and this here, and that upon that,--and this upon this, and this under that,--and that under this--you can remember that much, child, I supposes?
Honor.
I'll do my endeavour, ma'am, to remember all.
Bloom.
But mind, now, my good girl, you takes petticlar care of this here pyramint of japanned china--and very petticlar care of that there great joss--and the very most petticularest care of this here right reverend Mandolin. (Pointing to, and touching a Mandarin, so as to make it shake. HONOR starts back.)
Bloom.
It i'n't alive. Silly child, to start at a Mandolin shaking his head and beard at you. But, oh! mercy, if there i'n't enough to make him shake his head. Stand there!--stand here!--now don't you see?
Honor.
Which, ma'am?
Bloom.
"Which, ma'am!" you're no witch, indeed,
if you don't see a cobweb as long as my arm.
Run, run, child, for the pope's head.
Honor.
Pope's head, ma'am?
Bloom.
Ay, the pope's head, which you'll find under the stairs. Well, a'n't you gone? what do you stand there like a stuck pig, for?--Never see a pope's head?--never 'ear of a pope's head?
Honor.
I've heard of one, ma'am--with the priest; but we are protestants.
Bloom. Protestants! what's that to do? I do protest, I believe that little head of yours is someway got wrong on your shoulders to-day.
[The clock strikes--HONOR, who is close to it, starts.]
Bloom.
Start again!--why, you're all starts and fits. Never start, child! so ignoramus like! 'tis only the clock in your ear,--twelve o'clock, hark!--The bell will ring now in a hurry. Then you goes in there to my lady--stay, you'll never be able, I dare for to say, for to open the door without me; for I opine you are not much usen'd to brass locks in Hirish cabins--can't be expected. See here, then! You turns the lock in your hand this'n ways--the lock, mind now; not the key nor the bolt for your life, child, else you'd bolt your lady in, and there'd be my lady in Lob's pound, and there'd be a pretty kettle, of fish!--So you keep, if you can, all I said to you in your head, if possible--and you goes in there--and I goes out here.
[Exit BLOOMSBURY.]
Honor.
(curtsying)
Thank ye, ma'am. Then all this time I'm sensible I've been behaving and looking little better than like a fool, or an innocent.--But I hope I won't be so bad when the lady shall speak to me.
(The bell rings.)
Oh, the bell summons me in here.
--(Speaks with her hand on the lock of the door)
The lock's asy enough--I hope I'll take courage--(sighs)--Asier to spake before one nor two, any way--and asier tin times to the mistress than the maid.
[Exit HONOR.] _
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