Puck, 1878-03-27 · page 11 of 16
Puck — March 27, 1878 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page contains a theatrical dialogue between two characters: **Ernest** and **Virginia**. The play appears to be a romantic comedy involving misunderstandings and courtship rituals. The satire targets **Victorian-era gender relations and courtship conventions**. Virginia playfully manipulates Ernest through social rules—demanding forfeits, extracting money, and controlling his behavior while he attempts romantic gestures. The humor derives from Virginia's calculated use of "lady fair" etiquette to extract concessions from Ernest, who remains earnestly confused about the actual rules of courtship and romance. The italicized stage directions ("with sarcastic merriment," "emphatically") indicate this was published as a theatrical piece, likely mocking the artificial formality and power games embedded in period romance conventions.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
es n, cr to PUCK. (With an air of judicial abstraction) For, after all, he couldn't help it. (Softening) Poor Ernest. (Quite melted) Poor dear! ‘The door softly opens, and the head of the exile ap- pears. This movement appears to be inopportune on his part, for as soon as his cousin perceives it her face clouds over again, The unwelcome youth enters, however, and advances to the fray. His reception is not encouraging. Virainia, Ernest! You back? Ernest (with resolute cheerfulness). Yes. Yousee. Come, don’t be so tragic. I generally go when I’m boun—I_ mean, when I'm sent away. I went, when you.told me to. I saw it was best. Anger sat enthroned upon your bang. I went out on the lawn, and I « hadn’t taken two steps before up flew a little bird—yes, a little bird! He flew first right, and then left, and then he whistled three times. If that wasn’t an omen, I don’t know what is. It is an omen. And in obedience to it I return. Vircinia (puszled). But I don’t understand — Ernest. Oh, but I do. That little bird didn’t whistle for nothing. He meant to say to me: ‘ Look here, you're a nice sort of a fellow, to give it up like this! Because your cousin frowns and tells you to leave her when you say you love her, you quietly put on your hat and go! Bah! that’s the kind of thing you must expect in love. Go back and begin again. Go on worse than ever. She expects you—” Vircinia (indignantly). She does not! ERNEST (undisturbed). I'm only telling you what the bird said. ‘Talk to him. “Go back, old fellow,” he went on, “and try it again.” So I'm back. Charge it to the dickey-bird. . VIRGINIA. And you think your bird and your impudence will have any effect on me? Ernest (p/acidly). Can't say. Hope so. Vircinia (becoming nervous). Ernest! you'll drive me crazy —no, you won't —you'll make me cry. Oh, dear! Why, Ernest —just put yourself in my place. ERNEST. In your place? ‘VirGinia. Yes—no, that'is. I don’t mean literally— that would be funny. Courtship with variations. Ernest (meditatively). In your place! ‘VirGinia, Well, yes! In my place. And then perhaps you'd find out, sir, that adoration may be tor- ture toawoman. Of what do you suppose my heart is made, if you think I enjoy having you batter at its portal in this fashion ? Ernest. I suppose it’s made of some pretty tough material. Vircinia. You do? Well, come, we'll see how you like it yourself: I’m going to convince you—this instant. It is 7 who will make Jove to you, ERNEST. . Good joke, — VirGINiA. You. think so, do you?» Well, you'll see. I am going to pay court to you from‘now till sundown, without pity or remorse. -You shall be the lady fair, and I the enamored knight. And take.care of yourself, my lady! ERnest. Good idea, VIRGINIA. Yes, but—one thing. I want to gain some substantial results by this operation. Ernest. If you go about your business properly you'll ‘gain me, I'm a pretty substantial result. Virainia, Nonsense! But see—the game is to close at dinner-time—at six o'clock. And from that time to the end of my visit here, you are not to say one single word of love to me. Do you promise ? ERNEsT, Yes—unless— Vircinia. Unless? Ernest. Unless you ask me to. Viroinia (with sarcastic merriment). T accept ¢hat condition. Unless I ask you to. Well, then—oh, one word more! You— Ernest. Well? ° . VirGINiA, You won't take any unfair advantage of your position ? ERNEST, Certainly not. Vireinia. I mean—don't introduce me to any type of lady that I haven't met before. Ernest (emphatically). Pll take you for I won't. a model. Don’t be afraid. Vircinia. Ladies don’t pay compliments, sir! ‘This won't do. We must have a forfeit. Every time you forget your réle of lady fair, you shall pay me—let us see—what have you in your pockets ? ERNEsT. Here are ten silver dollars. VirGinia. Do you want them? ERNEST. No, glad to get rid of them. VIRGINIA. Well, then, each time that you forget your- self, you shall pay me one of these; pro- ceeds to be devoted to the Home for Indi- gent and Venerable Females at Peekskill. I’m one of the directors. ‘There are ten lady di- rectors of the home, and some day we expect to get an Indigent and Venerable Female to put in it. So—these are your forfeits. ERNEST. All right. But what’s sauce for an Indigent and Venerable Female is sauce for a young and lovely one. What are you to forfeit to me if you forget that you are a gentleman? VIRGINIA. Well, what? What do you suggest ? ERNEST. Say— say, for instance, a kiss— ‘Virainia (energetically negative). No! no! no! no/ Ernest, Hm! Why not? ‘VirGinia, Do you estimate a kiss from me at one dol- lar only? 5 ERNEST. By no means.: Its value is not to be esti- mated. I don’t even attempt it. The dollar ismerely a counter —an arbitrary representative of value. - But-if you-are talking on a business basis, know an old woman who could be ,in-- duced to go to your Home. Does that satisfy you ? Vircinia. I'll throw her in. No! Ernest. All right then, The fight is declared ‘off, and the treaty abrogated. I shall return to my jabors. Vircinia. - Oh, dear, no! I can’t have that, And, an’ way—there can’t be any danger. I can rely on myself—on my skill, and my oe ERNEST. Charms. Vircinia, Pay me a forfeit. ERNEST. Time's not called yet. Vircinia, I don’t want to bankrupt you sosoon. You'll lose your silver counters soon enough. But now—it’s all understood, is it? ‘The play is cast—we know ourréles? ‘Then up goes the curtain (she touches a bell on the ta- ble). Now, then, let the company remember their cues (rising and bowing to an imaginary public). Ladies and gentlemen, ‘ Courtshij with Variations," comely in one act, by a col- laboration! And she reseats herself, ‘The exponent of the oppos- ing role also takes a chair, and for a silent minute or two both appear to be absorbed in reflection. It is the truce Vefore the battle. “After another moment, ERNEST steals a sly glance at his antagonist, and surprises her in the act of doing the same thing. After this there is more silence, and’ considerable fidgeting in both chairs. At NIA whispers to herself, by way of reliel: He's got to speak, some time or other. He, however, does not seem to think so. Struck by a idea, he reaches for the diminutive work-basket and placidly begins a wild travesty of cro- cheting. The owner of the basket looks on the ruin of her handiwork with some dissatisfaction, but does not ven- ture to interfere. She once more takes refoge in soli- loquy; . Ten counters—ten kisses—it’s too much, by nine, at least. I’ve got to do something. Come, to work! And with a desperate effort, she rises and marches up to the calm artist in crochet, who raises his eyes languidly and continues to tangle her worsted. She addresses him. ‘Vircinia. Cousin, ‘are you very clever? Ernest (Janguidly crocheting). Ra-ather! A compliment! Never mind. ViRGINIA. Not exceptionally so, 1 suppose? ERNEST. Not more so than— (his eye falls on his count- ers)—most people. Vincinia (/eaning over the back of his chair). Well, if you're clever at all, tell me why it is lam happy just at this very moment. Ernest (femininely bored). Oh, dear! I'm sure I don’t know. ViRGINIA. You don’t! Well, I'll tell you. that there are two things about you that 1 have always admired—your eyes. ; Ernest (in a quiet aside)? Guying, is she? Vircinia, Let me lift your hair off your forehead—so! Ah! you look well so. Fine forehead, well- arched brows—how is it I never noticed them before? Nose—straight. Greek type. ERNEST. ‘These are what you call compliments, I sup- pose ? Vircinia. I’m always particular in the matter of noses. Let's see. Chin —quite correct. Cheek-bones —not too high and not too low. + ERNEST. : the police. ‘Vircinia. and slender—and dimples, too; upon my word, dimples! [To be continued.] comicbooks.com T'm happy | because I have an opportunity of telling you | Sounds like a description for the benefit of} | And your hand—quite a lady’s hand. Long: |