Jack l’Eventreur
(Jack the Ripper)
A Drama in Five Acts and Seven Settings
Performed for the first time in Paris, at the Theatre du Chateau-d’Eau, 30 August 1889.
Act One
The office of the Chief of the London Police. Door in the background; doors on the sides; in the background, a telephone; to the right, the Chief’s desk; to the left, facing it, is a secretary’s desk. Armchairs, seats, etc.
As the curtain raises, Stoneps is at his desk, to the left. Six detectives stand before him.
Scene One
Stoneps, Detectives. Later, Trens and Sir Stevens.
Stoneps, to detectives:
I’m warning you all that the Chief of Police, Sir Stevens, could not be more displeased with your service. London is crawling with criminals! You know their dens and their modus operandi, you know them on sight, and yet still, under your very noses, they steal and murder! Truly, gentlemen, its almost enough to make one think you’re conspiring with them! (Mumuring). Yes! Yes, I know!
You are all incompetent. And I say to you now – if you have not found the person responsible for the Piccadilly crime in three days’ time, you will be reassigned out of the London police without a second thought. You will all be placed on farm patrol! You heard me correctly, gentlemen. That’s all for now. Dismissed!
The detectives nod in agreement and exit out the back.
Trens, entering stage right, papers in hand:
Stoneps?
Stoneps, standing up:
Yes, Trens?
Trens:
Have you sorted out the Merwing file yet?
Stoneps:
Yes, on Sir Stevens’ orders.
Trens:
Good. And what about those night-time attacks?
Stoneps:
They’ve not stopped, despite the eight pickpockets we’ve just pinched. If you ask me, dear Trens, the head of this crime ring is still at large.
Trens:
Do you think so, Stoneps?
Stoneps:
I’m sure of it. It’s a mammoth organization out there, wondrously complex. These jobs have been planned with an audaciousness we’ve not seen before. Even Chief Stevens is at a loss. And its even more of an embarrassment to us now, with Peter Wild, the New-York Chief of Police, visiting today. He wants to see the nuts and bolts of our administration for himself.
Trens:
And what is he going to think when he sees that these crimes continue unpunished?
Stoneps:
Don’t even ask! Its such a humiliation. The pride of England has become a joke!
Sir Stevens, entering from backstage, preceded by an officer who opens the door for him:
And everyone knows that England is the first nation among nations! (The secretaries nod in agreement). What’s new today?
Trens:
A few things, Sir Stevens: (Reading from the papers he’s carrying). Three thefts, breaking-and-entering, in Regent Street; one suspected poisoning in Oxford; one man crushed by a cab in the Strand…
Sir Stevens, sharply:
An Englishman?
Trens:
French.
Sir Stevens:
Go on.
Trens, continuing:
Thirty-two women arrested for public drunkenness, and four infanticides.
Sir Stevens:
Splendid! Splendid! (To Stoneps.) And you?
Trens exits back to the left, beyond the desk.
Stoneps, while reading his papers:
A scuffle among the women at the Salvation army. Two gravely wounded; a third dead; 942 men and women, of various nationalities, robbed of their wallets and purses. Three suicides by hanging in Hyde Park…
Sir Stevens, sharply:
Any of them English?
Stoneps:
An Irishman, a Scot and a Chinaman.
Sir Stevens:
Go on.
Stoneps, continuing:
There was an attempt to derail the Wolwich line, seventeen break-ins, and fourteen cases of manslaughter.
Sir Stevens, making his way stage right, towards his desk:
Splendid! Splendid! Very few issues indeed. London is fast becoming the calmest city in the world.
The Officer, appearing from backstage:
Mr. Peter Wild, Chief of Police of New York, is here to see you Sir.
Sir Stevens, to the secretaries:
If you please, sirs.
Trens and Stoneps nod and exit stage left.
Sir Stevens, to the officer:
Bring him in.
The officer shows Peter Wild into the office and leaves.
Sir Stevens, Peter Wild with a black American beard, very pronounced, wearing a pince-nez.
Sir Stevens, standing before his desk:
Hello!
Hello!
Sir Stevens:
Please, sit down.
Peters Wild:
Thank you.
He sits in a chair facing Stevens.
Sir Stevens, also sitting:
Did you arrive yesterday?
Peters Wild:
Yes.
Sir Stevens:
Good trip?
Peters Wild:
Yes.
Sir Stevens:
Wonderful. Its an honor to finally meet you, let me shake your hand.
He stands up.
Peters Wild, standing as well:
With pleasure. (They shake each others’ hand and sit back down). I am sorry to take up so much of your valuable time.
Sir Stevens:
I am happy to put it to the service of our American friends.
Peters Wild:
Friends indeed… now and then.
Sir Stevens:
Now and always, one hopes.
Peters Wild:
Hear, hear.
Sir Stevens:
What can I do for you?
Peters Wild:
I’m here to study the workings of the English police. We acknowledge our inferiority when it comes to police work. Our detectives have as much potential as yours, but they don’t achieve the same level of success. Where is the problem? In our procedures, of course. Over there, scores of criminals escape our justice. With you, it seems as though every criminal in London pays their debt to society. What methods have you implemented to achieve such enviable results?
Sir Stevens:
My dear sir, there is an old French axiom: “Put a woman on the case!” In my case, I’ve changed it accordingly to: “Throw a woman into the case!” And that is the secret of our success.
Peters Wild:
I’m afraid I don’t understand.
Sir Stevens:
I introduced into the police force the fifty most charming women in all of London, recruited them as detectives. I send them everywhere… from the filth of Whitechapel to the salons of Saint James Palace. These women work for me. I take them all in hand, and I make it clear that if any of them give away their secret, they will be ruined. No one knows of this but me, so I don’t worry so much about the resultant indiscretions. They are mine to mould as I see fit. Even the most majestic of them, lovely enough to turn the head of a prince, is under my complete control. It was adultery that brought that one into my employ. She was married, but I knew she had a lover. One well-placed word from me and she would have been utterly ruined… her lover, too. She wisely chose to obey me instead. Another one – I send her rolling about through the city pubs – I picked her up in the gutter… she’s another one of my little beasts. I baited her onto my team with the promise of gold, which of course intoxicated her to the point of no resistance. I give her as much as I see fit. But, thanks to her, I know all the inner secrets of the thieves and murderers I’ve ordered her to service.
Peters Wild:
Ah, so its… the women …
Sir Stevens:
Yes. At this very moment, London is infested with a band of criminals who murder and pillage even the busiest of streets. And now, in the past month, I’ve sent twelve of my ladies into these infected hovels. Thanks to them, eight thieves have fallen into my hands.
Peters Wild:
Eight?
Sir Stevens:
At a single blow.
Peters Wild:
And these women, they act as mistresses to these … scoundrels?
Sir Stevens:
Yes. One, for example, was Lucy Ellgoth. She brought me Thompson himself.
Peters Wild, raising from his seat:
Really!
Sir Stevens:
Does she interest you?
Peters Wild:
Of course!
Sir Stevens, leaving his desk and walking the stage with Peters Wild:
She I took as part of a bargain. There was a crime I knew she had been a part of. I offered her a choice between twenty years of hard labor or a premium of fifty pounds. She didn’t have to think for very long, and not soon after, Thompson was caught, judged, condemned and hanged. Another one, Mary Clarwick, who was just looking for some money, implicated Melwer for twenty-five pounds. He is the same disgusting sort as Thompson.
Peters Wild:
So what you’re saying is that all these… wretches were betrayed, sold out, by their mistresses?
Sir Stevens:
All of them, yes! But I’ve still not yet taken the entire band. The head of the syndicate still evades me. But I will have him eventually, I assure you!
Peters Wild:
How incredible!
The Officer, entering:
Sir, the “Little Virgin” is here.
Sir Stevens:
Ah!
The Officer:
She was brought in for brawling with an old drunken woman.
Sir Stevens:
Very good. Bring her in.
The Officer leaves.
Peters Wild:
The…. “Little Virgin”? Who is that?
Sir Stevens:
She’s soon to become one of my women on the beat. Her beauty and lack of sophistication have given her quite a name on the streets. But her real name is Ketty.
Peters Wild:
Ketty?
Sir Stevens:
She is the mistress of one of the most dangerous and audacious thieves in London. I suspect him to be the head of this syndicate I told you about before. And its through this girl here that I intend to catch him.
Peters Wild:
Her? Incredible!
The same characters, as well as Blackornn, Ketty and four detectives.
Voice of Blackornn, from backstage:
I swear, I would rather strangle her than let you have her!
Sir Stevens, to Peters Wild:
Stay here in the background and watch.
He goes to his desk. Peters Wild goes to sit by the side of the desk to the left, and picks up a magazine, pretending to read while he observes. Two detectives appear pushing in Blackornn.
Blackornn, yelling:
Bring her in! Bring her in also! I finally found her again, I will not let her go this time!
Peters Wild watches Ketty enter escorted on either side by two detectives who remain in the background, separately:
Its her!
Ketty walks in front of Blackornn and goes to his left.
Sir Stevens, to Blackornn:
I know who you are.
Blackornn:
That’s not surprising.
Sir Stevens:
What have you done now to be brought before me again?
Blackhornn:
Nothing! Your detectives here have a grudge against me. They’re both crooked!
First Detective:
She’s a shrew, that one!
Blackhornn:
A shrew? I’m a lamb for Christ’s sake!
Detective:
She knocked this young girl senseless and wanted to drag her away. We stopped her and brought her to you, Sir.
Sir Stevens, to Blackhornn:
Now then, what’s your name?
Blackhornn:
Betty Blackornn.
Sir Stevens:
Hmmm…. Last time it was … (searching) Betty… Patterson.
Blackhornn:
This is the name of the man I’m with currently…
Sir Stevens:
And what is it you do?
Blackornn:
I raise roosters.
Sir Stevens:
And where do you live?
Blackornn:
I’m homeless. I stay a little ways down from here.
Sir Stevens:
Do you still drink?
Blackornn:
I’ve got the right! I’m a member of two temperance societies.
Sir Stevens:
Are you not the mother of this young girl?
Blackornn:
Her mother? Ha! I would regret it my entire life if I were. Does she even have one?
Sir Stevens:
So why did you assault her?
Blackornn:
To teach her proper obedience.
Sir Stevens, to the detectives:
Keep an eye on her.
The detectives grab her.
Blackhornn, struggling:
Don’t touch me, any of you!
Second Detective:
Come on, quiet now!
They push her back to the door to the right.
Sir Stevens, to Ketty:
Come here, child. (Ketty approaches him). Do you know this woman?
Ketty:
Unfortunately, yes.
Blackhornn:
What did she say?
She moves toward her.
The Detective:
Quiet, now!
Sir Stevens, to Ketty:
Explain?
Ketty:
This woman has bullied me since I was a child.
Blackornn, frothing:
I swear, if I get my hands on you!
Ketty, continuing:
I don’t want her to torment me anymore!
Blackhornn, moving toward the desk:
Sir, I bought her when she was just a little thing. Bought and paid! She’s mine!
Ketty:
I broke your chains and now I’m free! I don’t want to know her anymore, I don’t want to see her again!
Blackhornn, thrashing about:
Let me go, I’ll have her hide!
The detectives restrain her.
Sir Stevens, to the detectives:
Take this woman away.
Blackornn:
You’re arresting me? You haven’t any right!
Second Detective:
Go on, walk!
Blackornn:
No! You can carry me! You can drag me! But I will not walk!
Sir Stevens makes a signal.
First Detective:
Off you go!
The detectives drag her away despite her protestations.
The same characters, not including those who just left.
Sir Stevens, to Ketty:
There’s no need to be afraid, my little one. You’re under our protection now. This woman, she said that she had bought you?
Ketty:
Stolen is more like it!
Sir Stevens:
And what of your parents?
Ketty:
I never knew them. Blackornn has had me in her possession since I was a baby. The wretch! I remember even back then the horrible way she treated me… the blows she struck me with!
Sir Stevens, looking at her:
Is that where you got this scar here, on your forehead?
Ketty, with a sad smile:
Yes, exactly, Sir. It’s a souvenir of my childhood. At the time, Blackhornn wanted to sell me to some gentlemen, and when I pushed them away she beat me bloody. She refused me the pittance of bread and water that was my usual allowance, and forced me to sleep in the freezing cold on a dung heap. Soon after, I made up my mind to leave. So I escaped. That was six months ago. I roamed all over the place, begging for my subsistence. It wasn’t a glorious way to live, for sure, but what I received from the generous passers-by covered everything I could possibly need. One day, I felt very weak – my limbs were sore, my face felt as though it were on fire, and my throat was incredibly dry. I was suffering something awful, truly. I was seized with an intense fever, and soon collapsed right there on the street, exhausted and close to death. What happened after that, I don’t know. The next thing I remember, I woke up, lying outstretched on a bed, and a man was standing near, watching after me.
Sir Stevens, standing and approaching her:
This man…
Ketty:
I never left his side again!
Sir Stevens:
You became his mistress?
Ketty:
Yes.
Sir Stevens:
How old were you?
Ketty:
I must have been 18 or 19 by then.
Sir Stevens:
Did you love this…. this man who saved you?
Ketty:
Yes.
Sir Stevens:
What was his name? (Silence) No answer? What was his name?
Ketty:
I don’t know.
Sir Stevens:
That’s unacceptable. What was his name?
Ketty:
He never told me.
Sir Stevens:
You don’t live with a man for six months without knowing who he is…
Ketty:
I know.
Sir Stevens:
Well then?
Ketty:
He was good to me. He was generous. He loved me, and I loved him. That was all I needed!
Sir Stevens:
But when you speak with him, ask him questions, what do you call him?
Ketty:
I call him “my love.”
Sir Stevens:
It is his name that I’m looking for. What is it?
Ketty:
I don’t know his name.
Sir Stevens:
Where does he live?
Ketty:
Everywhere and nowhere…
Sir Stevens:
Right… So you don’t want to talk, then?
Ketty:
I have nothing to tell you on the matter. Ask me anything you like about me, I’ll tell you everything.
Sir Stevens:
Be careful, Ketty.
Ketty:
Of what? I’ve committed no offence. That woman, that wretch, tried to beat me, your men came and they brought me here, that’s all!
Sir Stevens:
I have the power to throw you in gaol here.
Ketty:
I know.
Sir Stevens:
But that’s not what I want to do. You’re free to go.
Ketty:
Thank you, sir.
Sir Stevens, returning to his desk:
I’m interested in you. If you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble… any kind, whatsoever… send for me. I will protect you.
Ketty:
I’ll not forget it! (She bows and leaves.)
Sir Stevens, Peter Wild.
Peter Wild, standing:
Strange girl!
Sir Stevens, speaking on the telephone:
Hello? Are Mary Clarwick and the Irishwoman there? (He listens, then responds.) Good. Have the Irishwoman follow Ketty, the one you called the “Little Virgin.” She just left my office. Have her trail the girl closely until she uncovers the name of her lover. As for Mary Clarwick, she must find the secret of the person she spoke of no later than tomorrow. This is of the utmost importance!
Peters Wild:
I’m quite impressed.
Sir Stevens, returning to his desk:
I know. Within twenty-four hours I will know everything I want to know.
Peters Wild:
Bravo indeed! But… what of this Irishwoman whom you just ordered to follow Ketty?
Sir Stevens:
She’s a fantastic beast. She’s the one who helped us catch Cross, the famous strangler.
Peter Wild:
Incredible!
Sir Stevens:
As for the person Mary Clarwick spoke to me about… (Changes his mind.) I can’t tell you anything else, but Mary is both shrewd and attractive, and that’s not a bad combination! She will become this man’s mistress and will sniff out his secret.
Peters Wild:
And… what of the old woman? The one who wanted to take away… what did you call her?.. the “Little Virgin”? What do you plan to do with her?
Sir Stevens:
I shall keep her as an auxiliary who may later provide me with some useful services.
Peter Wild:
So you will keep her in prison?
Sir Stevens:
Only until this evening. Then I’m going to throw her on Ketty’s track.
Peter Wild:
You’ll use her as well, then?
Sir Stevens:
She hates the girl! That may prove useful. After one more interrogation I’ll set her free.
Officer, entering:
Mr. Robinson Brown to see you, sir.
Sir Stevens:
Who is Mr. Robinson Brown?
Officer:
I don’t know him, sir. But he claims to have information for you about the Piccadilly Crime.
Sir Stevens:
Bring him in!
The Officer leaves.
Peter Wild:
The Piccadilly Crime?
Sir Stevens:
It was a common theft and murder, of no importance really except for the amount that was stolen. We’ve not yet been able to trace the perpetrator.
Sir Stevens makes a sign for him to sit in the chair placed in front of his desk.
Same characters and Robinson Brown, introduced by the Officer.
Robinson, a fat man with a naïve look about him:
Sir, this is quite an honor! (Seeing Peter Wild) Oh, excuse me! You’re not alone. Therefore, Sirs…. I’m honored to be at your service.
Sir Stevens:
I understand you have some information to give us concerning the Piccadilly Crime?
Robinson:
A great deal, sir. A great deal indeed.
Sir Stevens:
Tell us then! What do you know?
Robinson:
Everything!
Sir Stevens:
The name of the killer?
Robinson:
His name, age, address, habits, past history… everything!
Sir Stevens, preparing to write:
Well?
Robinson:
I’m sorry, but would you be so kind as to lull me to sleep? (He sits in a chair placed before the desk on the left).
Sir Stevens, looking at him:
Lull you to sleep? Why?
Robinson:
To make me talk. You see, sir, I’m a narcoleptic.
Sir Stevens:
A narcoleptic?
Robinson:
Yes. And when I’m asleep, I talk. You’ll notice, sir, that I fall asleep quite easily, and that I speak with surprising lucidity once I do.
Peter Wild, softly to Sir Stevens:
He’s a fool.
Sir Stevens, softly as well to Peter Wild:
Yes. (To Robinson) What do you do for a living?
Robinson:
I’m a landlord. I have a house in Oxford street, one in Soho square and one in The Strand. I have an income of five thousand pounds from it.
Peter Wild:
Five thousand pounds… sterling?
Robinson:
Nothing but! (Sighs.) I’ve been married five times.
Peter Wild:
Five times?
Robinson:
Yes, sir! And five times my wives have divorced me, because whenever I would try to prove to them that I’m not a narcoleptic, I’d do the exact opposite!
Sir Stevens:
You’d fall asleep?
Robinson:
Yes, I really have no say in the matter, you see. I’ve been run over by carriages on three separate occasions. I also have to carry a note with me at all times.
Peter Wild:
A note?
Robinson:
Yes, this one here. (Shows a note he took from his pocket and reads from it.) “To the kind person who picked me up out of the street – please be so kind as to carry me to my home in Redburn street. There will be a generous reward for it.”
(Peter Wild writes the address on his forearm).
Robinson, continuing:
And you’ll notice how incredibly lucid I’ll be. I shall reveal many astonishing bits of information as I sleep. Because each time something like that happens, I wake up to find nothing in my pockets, wallet or purse!
Peter Wild:
And you think that you, in your sleep, tell these noble men who pick you up that there is money in your purse and banknotes in your wallet?
Robinson, naively:
Why yes! However did you know?
Peter Wild, smiling:
That works for me.
Robinson:
I thought then that these extraordinary feats of clairvoyance might prove useful to Grand Old England. And so here I am, placing myself at the disposal of the Metropolitan Police.
Sir Stevens:
Mr. Robinson, I have very little faith in clairvoyance and mesmerism. However, I never turn away a genuine offer of assistance. I thank you for your eagerness to assist your country. I shall keep your name and address on file.
Robinson, saddened:
Then, you don’t want me to sleep?
Sir Stevens:
No. Some other time, perhaps. I’m a bit too busy at the moment.
Officer, entering:
I have been asked to give you this card.
Sir Stevens, taking the card and reading:
Sir William Haxwell. He’s in London! (To Officer.) Bring him in.
The Officer leaves.
Sir Stevens, standing, to Robinson:
You, Mr. Robinson Brown, may exit by this door. (He points to the door on the left.)
Robinson, beaming:
A door just for me! Oh, sir, you are too kind! I look forward to helping Great Britain! To serve your country in your sleep – not many people can claim to do that!
Sir Stevens, motioning for him to leave:
Go on, go on!
Robinson:
I’m going sir, going! (Enthusiastically.) I’m part of the police force now, what an honor! (He leaves.)
Peter Wild:
It is hard to believe there could be someone that stupid just walking about.
Sir Stevens:
England is the greatest nation in the world – we have absolutely everything.
Peter Wild:
I’m going to step out now.
Sir Stevens:
No, stay. Nothing we’re going to talk about will be of a confidential nature. (Peter Wild returns to the background, to the right.)
The same characters, William Haxell, Sir James Plack and Miss Ellen.
Williams, entering and walking toward Sir Stevens, who is standing to the left:
Sir Stevens, let me have the honor of shaking your hand!
Sir Stevens:
Gladly!
Williams, introducing James and Ellen:
This is Sir James Plack, and this here is Miss Ellen Plack, his daughter and my fiancé.
James, bowing:
Sir Stevens. (They greet each other.)
Williams:
Sir James Plack has a request for you.
Sir Stevens, walking towards James:
Yes? And what is that?
James:
Its not so much a request, as a favor. A rather large favor I’ve come here to ask of you.
Sir Stevens:
A favor?
James:
Yes. But I’ll need to give you some details first before you can completely understand the importance of this matter.
Sir Stevens:
I’m listening, sir. (He walks to his desk. James follows him. Ellen moves to the left, to the side of Williams; the Officer brings forward a chair for Ellen, then leaves.)
James, pointing to Peter Wild, standing to the right in the background:
Is it safe to speak in front of him?
Sir Stevens, introducing him:
This is Peter Wild, Chief of the New-York Police.
(Everyone nods and sits.)
James:
Well, you already know my name, thanks to Sir Williams. Eighteen years ago, I was married and the father of two children… two girls, the eldest of which… (Points to Ellen.) When Ellen was barely three years old, I was in the most abject poverty, and so I offered to sell… (Sir Stevens moves abruptly.) Oh, no, it wasn’t like that! I did nothing shameful.
Sir Stevens, kindly:
Continue, please.
James:
One night, when she came home… my wife, that is… she hadn’t eaten since the previous day. She suggested that we kill ourselves and the children.
Sir Stevens:
My God!
James:
Oh, I could never bear to watch my little ones die like that. There was an agency that had just opened, where men could enroll to accompany a famous adventurer who was going to attempt to explore the African interior. A sizable premium was offered to anyone who enlisted. Of course, I rushed over there and signed up immediately! It may not have offered lifelong security, but at least I could muster from it a means of supporting my wife and children for several years to come. Then… I left.
Ellen:
Poor father!
James:
Poor father indeed! We were going to push into the unknown lands of Senegal and the Soudan, but a storm threw us upon an unknown beach. A tribe of savages destroyed our boat and took us all as prisoners into the wilderness. I watched my fellow travelers die, one after the other. For fifteen years this went on… we crossed countless deserts with this wandering tribe, not once coming across another sign of civilization. Then, the tribal chief died. Since during my time there I had rendered certain services to these ignorant creatures, I was proclaimed the new king. I wasted no time in gathering together a small fortune. Then I opened diplomatic relations with the Europeans, and finally freed myself and returned to England, to share my fortune and happiness with my wife and children.
Williams:
I was the one who delivered Mr. Plack from his royal captivity.
James:
Unfortunately, by the time I had returned to London, my poor wife had been dead for quite some time. Her sister had raised my little Ellen. As for my other daughter, left in the care of a nursemaid, she disappeared.
Sir Stevens:
Disappeared?
James:
The despicable woman dumped the poor girl off at Child Welfare, because my wife’s sister had been behind in her payments for a few months. At least that’s what the nursemaid told my sister-in-law when, some time after, she showed up to see the girl. Infuriated, my sister-in-law ran to the orphanage… but they told her no child had been left there on the day the nursemaid had indicated. It was all a lie. My sister-in-law notified the police, but the wretched woman hastily disappeared and we never heard from her again.
Sir Stevens:
Good lord, that will be a difficult case to investigate.
Ellen, standing:
But you can do it, can’t you, sir? For my father’s sake, and for mine?
Sir Stevens:
I will do all that is in my power. (To James.) Where do you live?
James:
In Belgravia street.
(Peter Wild writes the address in his notebook.)
Sir Stevens, also writing:
Thank you.
James:
When I came back, my first concern was to find the people who meant the world to me. And in that respect, Mr. Williams has supported me as if I were his own son.
Williams:
What choice did I have?
James:
It is thanks to him that I found my wife’s sister and my eldest daughter, Ellen. But Clary, my poor little Clary… what has become of her?
(The clock rings two o’clock.)
Peter Wild, standing:
Two o’clock… Please excuse me. I’m afraid I’ll have to take my leave of you now.
(James, Williams and Ellen stand up.)
Sir Stevens:
Will we see you again?
Peter Wild:
You’re very kind to ask… I’m afraid I’m just in your way here.
Sir Stevens:
Nonsense, you’re not inconveniencing me at all.
Peter Wild, smiling:
We’ll see about that! (Pointing to the door through which Robinson had left.) Is there a special exit on this side?
Sir Stevens:
Yes, it leads out to Whitehall.
Peter Wild:
May I, without drawing too much attention…
Sir Stevens, accompanying him to the left:
Yes, this is the most discrete exit.
Peter Wild, passing before James, William and Ellen, saying his goodbyes:
Sirs… Madam…
(Everyone nods goodbye to him.)
Peter Wild, shaking Sir Stevens’ hand:
Thank you.
(He exits to the left.)
The same characters, without Peter Wild.
Williams, to Sir Stevens, who approaches him:
I must tell you, Sir Stevens, that I saw the Police Chief of New-York take down Mr. Plack’s address just as you did.
Sir Stevens:
Ah! He thinks he can solve the case before I do!
Williams:
Why would he do that?
Sir Stevens, while walking to his desk:
To humiliate England by bringing me evidence that I would not have been able to find. Ah, but he won’t succeed in that! My investigation begins today!
James, approaching his desk:
Oh, sir Stevens! I’m so grateful!
Sir Stevens:
What is the name of the nursemaid you spoke of?
James:
Victoria Trevor.
Sir Stevens, writing:
Victoria Trevor… Where did she live?
James:
In Wimbledon.
Sir Stevens, writing:
Within two days we will know what has happened to this woman.
Ellen:
Thank you, sir! For myself and my father, I thank you! My poor sister, poor little Clary! With your help we are sure to find her!
James:
When would you like to see me again, Sir Stevens?
Sir Stevens:
Soon. (Waving goodbye.) Sir… Madame…
Williams, walking towards Sir Stevens:
Goodbye, Sir Stevens, and thank you once again!
(Sound of a voice in the waiting room. The back door opens and the Officer appears.)
Sir Stevens, leaving his desk:
What is it?
Officer:
A man, no doubt a lunatic, purporting to be the Chief of Police of New-York. He insists upon seeing you.
Sir Stevens, to himself:
What on earth? (To James, Williams and Ellen.) Please exit on this side. (He shows them the door on the left.) Take care now.
James:
Goodbye. (They leave.)
Sir Stevens, walking to the right:
Show him in.
(The Officer leaves and returns with a man who looks remarkably similar to Peter Wild.)
Peter Wild, extremely agitated:
Is this Sir Stevens with whom I have the pleasure of speaking?
Sir Stevens:
It is!
Peter Wild:
Sir Stevens, I am Peter Wild, the Chief of the New-York Police. I landed in London just yesterday. Two men who claimed they were sent by you were waiting for me at the pier, and I followed them. I had no reason to be suspicious. They bade me enter their carriage, but once I did they flung themselves upon me, blindfolded me and brought me God knows where. All I know is that I entered a house that was quite run-down, where two other men tied me up, gagged me and dragged me into a cellar. They told me, “Don’t be afraid. We know who you are… tomorrow, at two o’clock, you shall be free.” I spent the night in that cellar, and today, when the clock rang two, I was brutally escorted from the house in the same manner as before. Here are my papers, my passport and all the proper vouchers to prove my identity to you. (He gives them to Sir Stevens.)
Sir Stevens, examining them hurriedly:
Yes, indeed! But then, what about the other … (Suddenly.) Ah ha! Oh, Mr. Wild, I’m afraid we’ve both been duped by the most brazen of criminals!
Peter Wild:
Duped?
Sir Stevens:
A man introduced himself here, in your stead, using your name. This man even looked like you.
Peter Wild:
But for what purpose?
Sir Stevens:
If only I knew!
The same characters, Trens.
Trens:
There is an important letter here for you, sir.
Sir Stevens, taking the letter and breaking the seal:
Who delivered this letter?
Trens:
A messenger.
Sir Stevens, reading:
“Dear Mr. Stevens, you probably know by now that we have deceived you. I now know the names of the men and women who have turned in my colleagues – you’ve been kind enough to divulge them to me yourself. I thank you very much for that. Those who have betrayed us, those who are responsible for sending my friends to the gallows … They will all die… and neither you nor all the detectives of Great Britain can do anything to stop it. I am, Sir Stevens, yours truly, Jack.”
Peter Wild:
Jack?
Sir Stevens:
It is a challenge, and I accept it. We will see who wins this game!
(Curtain.)
Act 2
A sleazy pub in a Bishopsgate alleyway. The tavern is disreputable and smoke-filled. A door in the background, doors to the left and right. In the middle of the stage, a little to the right, is a movable trapdoor. A bar in the back, to the left. Behind it is a window dressed with red curtains. Some candles illuminate the den. Tables and chairs to the right and left. As the curtain rises, several men of a sinister appearance, in rags and tatters, hideous looking, but each wearing a top hat, are sitting at tables with some women. They are all listening to Tony the Hangman, who is seated on a chair holding a conference. Brook, the owner of this dive, goes from table to table, chatting it up and serving drinks.
Tony the Hangman, Brook, Stops, and several other men and women.
Drunken, husky voices:
Hey, Brook! Let’s have some gin, ‘ere! Brandy! Porter!
(Everyone beats their fists on their tables.)
Brook:
Coming, coming!
Tony:
What’s this noise? Do you want to hear what I’ve got to say or not?
All:
Yes! Yes! Go on!
Brook, serving a table on the right:
A speech on hangings by the hangman of London himself – this should be something to hear!
Stops, seating at a table on the right:
But its certainly no reason to stop drinking, eh!
Brook:
I certainly hope not!
Stops:
Speak! Speak, Tony!
All:
Yes! Yes!
Tony:
Honorable gentlemen… I’ve chosen to speak at the tavern of my distinguished friend Brook, as it is one of the most disreputable in the entire quarter of Bishopsgate. (Grumbling from the crowd.) You’ve every reason to grumble. It is known and understood throughout London that even the most pure among you here tonight, ladies and gentlemen, have done enough to earn my services ten times over! (Everyone laughs.) Go on, laugh away! That’s very good. One day, sooner or later, you will all be put to the gallows. And for that reason, I’ve conceived of a humanitarian project, to teach you about that fine institution which our legal system calls the death penalty!
Stops:
Christ! After all that now he’s…
Tony:
But it’s a pleasure!
Stops:
To be hanged?
Tony:
If I’m saying it, it must be true, eh? Hell, I’m an expert on it if anyone is. You won’t suffer my sons, when I pass my lovely hemp rope around your neck and throw you out into the air. Instead, all of a sudden … (Everyone is listening attentively.) You’ll be blinded by this fantastic light! Then, these goddesses will appear… they shall dance all around you, embrace you… you’ll be completely lost in their games! Then, you’ll just fade away… without any pain, without any suffering, dreaming of the world through rose-colored glasses in Mohammed’s Heaven!
All:
Hooray! Hooray!
Tony:
So when you come to see me, force back your tears and don’t be angry! Don’t fight me and try to keep me from doing my job. Let yourselves hang pleasantly, like the brave and happy thieves and murderers you are. Trust in my experience, for I am the one who will send you off properly to the afterlife!
(He steps down from his chair.)
All:
Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray! Long live Tony! Long live the hangman of London!
Tony:
Thank you, my friends, thank you! Now then, just one more glass of gin to my health and I’ll be off.
Brook, handing him a glass:
You’re not leaving so soon, are you?
Tony:
Yes, I’m afraid I’ve promised your friend Dietrick I would give his Whitechapel tavern a little speech like this one. Its getting late, and I don’t relish the idea of being about in this hellhole after ten o’clock!
Stops:
If you’d like, we could all escort you.
All:
Yes! Yes!
Tony:
Thank you, my friends, thank you! Go on now, my honorable ladies and gentlemen, drink to my health!
(He drinks.)
All:
To Tony the Hangman!
Tony:
And to the hopes of never seeing you lot again… at least, not in the professional capacity!
All:
Long live Tony! (Tony leaves out the backdoor.)
Brook, men and women, then Warelepp, Rixell and Merson.
Stops:
What a nice bloke, that hangman!
Brook:
With all that business, he’ll be as wealthy as I am bald!
Stops:
Why did he come here to make that speech of his?
Brooks:
Because the higher-ups are considering replacing all the gallows in England with French guillotines!
All:
No! Never!
Brook:
Of course, Mr. Tony hates the sight of blood. He’d rather hand in his resignation than guillotine a man, even if that means he’d have to take his place!
Stops:
He’s right, let’s hear it for the gallows!
All:
Yes! Yes! Three cheers for the gallows!
Warelepp, entering and followed by his companions:
Damn, its lively in here!
Stops:
Ah, Warelepp! Everything okay?
Warelepp:
Its all done! At exactly two o’clock the man will be turned out.
Rixell:
Along with all the esteem a man of his station deserves…
Merson:
If I’d had my way, the chap would never see the fogs of London again.
Warelepp:
Bah, what do we have to fear from him?
Merson:
You never know! The living talk, the dead… they keep their secrets.
Warelepp:
What would he say anyhow even if he did decide to talk? We brought him blindfolded into our house in Euston Square… We locked him in the cellar… and at the hour the boss gave us we threw him back out onto the street. He was blindfolded the whole time. He never saw us and could never recognize us. Don’t worry, we’re safe.
Brook:
So who is this guy?
Rixell:
We’ll tell you when we’re alone.
Warelepp:
Well my friends, its time to split up!
Drunk woman, sitting stage right:
Already?
Stops:
Haven’t you drunk enough for one night?
Drunk:
Never enough!
Rixell, to the others:
Take her with you. Until tomorrow!
All:
See you then!
(They leave, carrying with them the drunken woman.)
Scene 3
Warelepp, Rixell, Merson, Stops, Brook,
two men in the background, Jackson
Warelepp:
It’s nine o’clock! When is the boss coming?
Jackson, entering from stage right, dressed in working-class clothing:
He’s here!
All:
Jackson!
Jackson:
Hold on! First, a drink. Brook, let’s have some port here!
Brook:
I’m coming, I’m coming…
Jackson, looking around him:
Is it safe to speak?
Warelepp:
Yes, we’re all alone.
Jackson:
Excellent. (To Brook, who is carrying over a bottle and a single glass to the table on the right:) What’s this?
Brook:
It’s the port you bloody well asked for.
Jackson:
Do I usually drink alone? Bring some glasses of the rest of us here, and another bottle, too!
All, seating themselves at the table on the right:
Cheers!
Jackson, sitting down, facing them:
Come, drink with me. Everyone raise their glass … to vengeance!
All:
Vengeance?
Jackson:
Yes! Listen to me, and let my words sear themselves into your brains. Eight of our men – our friends – are about to be hanged.
All, gloomily:
No!
Jackson:
Do you know who turned them in?
All:
No!
Stops:
You know, don’t you?
Jackson:
Of course I do… they were betrayed! By their women!
All:
No!
Jackson, standing and crossing the stage.
Everyone follows him:
Yes, by their very own women! Spies used by the police to sell us out!
All:
Damn!
Jackson:
That’s why I had you stop Peter Wild, the Chief of the New-York Police – to find out who was betraying our men. I knew that if I could take his place and assume his identity, Chief Stevens would reveal his methods to me.
Warelepp:
We’re not going to let these women go unpunished, are we?
Jackson:
Unpunished! Oh, you don’t really believe I’d let that happen, do you? Each of you is going to swear a terrible oath this very night – to serve me without question, to exact the vengeance our boys deserve!
All:
Tell us!
Jackson:
Every one of those women who betrayed us – regardless if they’re your sister or your mother – will be mutilated, eviscerated and thrown out into the street for all the world to see. It will be our defiance against society and against the oh-so-righteous police. No cry for mercy will keep us from our task!
All:
We swear it! We swear our allegiance to you!
Warelepp:
What are the traitors’ names?
Jackson:
You all know them – Lucie Ellgoth, Mary Clarwick, Betty Crix, Eva Krupner, Jane Yoluck, Augusta Willken and Clair Elgoss.
All:
We’ll kill every last one of them!
Jackson, returning to the table:
Very good… and remember, keep a careful eye on your own women.
Warelepp, following Jackson along with the others:
To their deaths!
All:
Yes, to their deaths! All of them!
Scene 4
The same characters, and Toby, poking his head
through the trap door:
Toby:
“Death to all women?” Is that what you’re all up to?
All:
Toby!
Toby:
Sorry for coming in through the tunnel, but I’d figured the front door to be locked at this hour. (He pulls himself up through the trapdoor and then shuts it.)
Brook:
Good thinking, kiddo.
Toby:
But seriously, you can’t kill all the women… please! At least leave just a few! I’m only sixteen, I’ve not had enough time to… penetrate the subject as much as the rest of you. Let me get to know them first… then you can kill ‘em!
Jackson, sitting on the side of a table on the right:
Shut up, runt, and get over here.
Toby:
Sure thing, boss.
Jackson:
So, were you able to do it?
Toby:
It couldn’t have been easier. I showed up at the home of this particular person… “Who are you?” he asked. “A boy with hypnotic gifts powerful enough to raise the dead!” I responded. All the while, I made some mystical mumbo-jumbo in his face (He gestures comically.) He leapt to his feet, looked at me with those ridiculously big eyes of his and asked me, “Do you mean to hypnotise me then?” “Yes,” I answered in a gloomy voice… “But while you’re under, I want you to imagine that you are awake. And… Kazaam!” “Speak,” he said, after a moment. “I sense that I’m asleep, and yet I’m not sleeping!”
Warelepp:
My god, what a fool!
Jackson:
Quiet! (To Toby:) Continue.
Toby:
Then I said to him, “Abra Cadabra… Sir Stevens… tonight at 10 o’clock… Brook’s Tarvern, Bishopsgate Street.”
Jackson, pacing the stage while the others follow and encircle him:
And will he come?
Toby:
I’m sure of it.
Jackson:
Perfect! What about his home?
Toby:
An old maid and some furniture… and you can help yourself to everything he’s got inside. (He walks back to speak to Brook at the bar.)
Jackson:
Oh, we’ll have it alright! (To the others:) You heard the boy…. At midnight, go to Mr. Robinson Brown’s home in Redburn Street.
Men:
Yes, sir!
Jackson:
Only an old maid, eh? Put her to sleep with some chloroform and get your hands on his gold, his banknotes and all the gems hidden in his furniture. You’ll meet back with me at the entrance to Clarck Street. I’ll be there at 2 o’clock.
Warelepp:
Gotcha.
Jackson, to Toby, who has returned:
Do you know what you have to do?
Toby:
Keep the guy here as long as possible.
Jackson:
Unless I tell you otherwise! Now, my friends, I have a private appointment to attend to.
Toby:
The lovely Miss Ketty… I’ll bet six-pence that’s who it is!
Jackson:
You’ve won yourself six-pence. Remember, the sweet little thing doesn’t know who I am.
Brook, leaving the bar:
You told her you was a Fenian conspirator, dinnit ya?
Jackson:
Yes. So don’t say anything to give me away!
Brook:
But sir, if she gives you up to the police… accordin’ to our oath, I means… do we… do we do her, like the others?
Jackson:
Her? (A pause.) Yes. Yes, you must. But, we will die together. Because if she dies, I will have no choice but to kill myself.
(Someone knocks on the door.)
Brook:
Shit! Shut out the lights! (The candles are put out.) Who could that be?
Jackson:
Its not Ketty… I told her to meet me here at eleven o’clock. (To Toby, pointing to the trapdoor.) Are there any men down there?
Toby:
Yes. Strepps and Oxwer, I saw them when I came in.
Jackson:
Good. (Softly, to Toby:) Say, “We’re open only for the police!”
Toby:
We’re only open for the police! (Walks to the door.)
Mary Clarwick, outside:
Well its me, open up!
Jackson:
Mary Clarwick! Melwer’s girl!
Rixell:
Yes, its her alright. I recognize her voice!
Mary Clarwick, outside:
Well, what of it? Are you going to open the door or what?
Jackson, to Brook:
Open it.
(Brook opens the door.)
Scene 5
The same characters, and Mary Clarwick.
Mary Clarwick, entering:
My, how it does get dark here, Mr. Brook!
Jackson, on the right, lighting a candle:
Would you like a light then, Mary Clarwick? There you go.
Mary Clarwick:
Jackson! Ah, my sweet Jackson. You’re just the one I’m looking for.
Jackson:
To take your mind off Melwer?
Mary Clarwick:
Perhaps! I can’t mourn forever, right? I loved the poor thing so much. And they hanged him, the bastards! I had been looking for the hangman, Master Tony. He gave me a piece of the rope he used to do it – this one, here. It will bring me good luck, methinks!
Toby:
Give me a bit of it, then, Mary!
Mary Clarwick:
No! The rope that hangs your man is sacred!
Jackson:
More sacred than his life… isn’t that right, Mary?
Mary Clarwick:
How dare you say that! Do you doubt the feelings I had for poor Melwer?
Warelepp, seated on the right, jokingly:
Just a bit…
Stops:
A lot.
Merson, seated at the table on the left
with Rixell and the other two men:
Passionately!
Toby, leaving the bar and walking in front of Mary:
No, not at all!
Mary Clarwick:
And you, Jackson? Why are you so quiet?
Jackson:
Mary, how much did Sir Stevens give you to betray your “love”?
Mary Clarwick, trembling:
What the devil are you talking about?
Jackson:
How much did he promise you to turn me in, if I were to make you my new girl and share with you all my dirty secrets?
Mary Clarwick:
Are you mad?
Jackson:
Mad? You’re about to see just how mad I am. My friends… (Everyone rises.) This woman was loved by our deceased brother. The only reason he ever stole was to buy her jewels! He even killed a banker in Manchester, just to give her the good life. And now, she rewarded him for all that by selling him out to the London police! This woman deserves to die!
All:
Yes! Yes!
Mary Clarwick:
You’re all mistaken! I swear it to you! I didn’t turn in Melwer – I would never betray my love!
Jackson:
Do you know who told me?
Mary Clarwick:
Who? Tell me his name so I can spit my denials straight into his face!
Jackson:
It was Sir Stevens himself!
Mary Clarwick, dropping her guard and walking in front of him:
The bastard! He betrayed me!
Jackson:
And now you betrayed yourself! Go on, take her away! (He throws her into the arms of the two men standing on the left.)
Mary Clarwick:
Help! Someone help me!
(One of the two men stuffs a handkerchief into her mouth.)
Toby, opening the door on the left:
The damper’s open!
Jackson, menacingly:
I’ll be back. (He follows them.)
Scene 6
Warelepp, Rixell, Merson, Stops, Toby and Brook.
Toby:
Christ! I wouldn’t want to be Mary Clarwick right now.
Brook:
Me neither. The boss can be quite the animal when he’s got his dander up!
(Someone knocks on the door.)
Toby:
That must be my guy.
Brook, through the door:
Who’s there?
Robinson, outside:
It’s me!
Irishwoman, also outside:
And me!
Brook, softly:
He’s not alone!
Irishwoman:
Open up, luv. We’re all friends ‘ere!
Toby:
A woman! Damn! Be careful. (To Brook:) Open it!
Brook, opening the door:
Come on in, melord and lady.
Robinson:
This is the pub owned by the honorable Mr. Brook of Bishopsgate Street, yes?
Brook:
The honorable! Yes, that’s me alright!
Irishwoman, to Robinson:
You see, guv’nor? I got you to the right place! This here pub has quite the reputation.
Robinson:
Thank you!
Brook, aside, looking at the Irishwoman:
Where do I know her from? Yes, or course… She’s the Irishwoman!
Toby, softly to Warelepp, Rixell, Merson and Stop:
Go on, get out of here!
Warelepp:
Okay, okay.
(They leave quietly out the back.)
Scene 7
Robinson, Toby, Brook and the Irishwoman
Robinson:
Mr. Brook, I am Robinson Brown, and …
Toby, stepping forward:
And I’m the one who asked you here, right sir?
Robinson:
Yes, of course, its him! (Aside.) My little hypnotist!
Irishwoman, aside:
Hmmm…. No one here but the barkeep, this old fool and the boy…
Robinson, to Toby:
Well young man, you told me to come, and here I am! What can I do for you?
Toby:
You came, yes… But… I’m sorry. Is the madame here with you?
Irishwoman:
I don’t know him from a hole in the ground. I just helped him get here, that’s all.
Toby:
In that case, I’d appreciate it if you… (He makes a gesture as if to say, “Get out!”)
Irishwoman:
You want me to leave? I don’t think so! This is the only pub in this godforsaken area.
Robinson, aside, walking to the right:
What, she’s leaving?
Irishwoman, aside, by the door:
The “Little Virgin” ain’t here… I’ve lost her trail. But I’ll find it again. (Loudly.) Good night, then! (She leaves.)
Scene 8
The same characters, without the Irishwoman.
Robinson, to Toby:
I’m sorry, but…
Toby, with a flourish:
Master Robinson… (He motions in the air, as if to put Robinson into a trance.)
Robinson, staggering:
Egad!
Toby, continuing:
Sir Stevens had you come here to work with me on a mission of the utmost secrecy…
Robinson:
A secret mission… tell me more, my lad!
Toby:
I don’t need to tell you that you can count on me, right?
Robinson:
We shall see soon enough! What is the problem?
Toby:
Some thieves are on their way…
Robinson:
Here?
Toby:
Yes!
Robinson:
The devil you say! (Toby motions wildly again in Robinson’s face. He staggers.) Egad!
Toby:
They’re coming here to plan a theft!
Robinson:
A theft? Well, they won’t succeed! What is their plan?
Toby:
It involves robbing an honest man who was foolish enough to leave his home unguarded.
Robinson:
It never ceases to amaze me how careless certain folk can be…
Toby:
Indeed sir, indeed!
Robinson:
I would certainly never do such a silly thing… never!
Toby:
Indeed, you are far too shrewd for that.
Robinson:
I pride myself, my dear boy, on being clear-headed at all times.
Toby:
Regardless, the thieves are not the only ones with a plan. Sir Stevens has his own in mind.
Robinson:
That makes two plans.
Toby:
Yes… that makes two plans.
Robinson:
Sir Steven’s plan must be the more honorable one! I’ll join in on it, my conscience dictates it! What does he need me to do?
Toby, pointing to the right:
Go through that door there…
Robinson, fearful:
There? (Toby motions again hypnotically. Robinson staggers backwards.) Again, egad! Very well.
Toby:
Try to eavesdrop on the thieves’ conversation.
Robinson:
And… and what will you do?
Toby:
I’ll be hiding on the side. (He points to the left.) I’ll be listening as well!
Robinson:
I’ve got it. In mixing together and comparing what we both hear, we shall have a much more accurate log of the conversation!
Toby:
That’s it exactly!
Robinson:
Sounds simple enough.
Toby:
You’re quite the sleuth!
Robinson, modestly:
I’m just a simple genius, that’s all.
Toby:
Oh, you’re simple… that’s for sure! Go on, now!
Robinson:
Ah, the beauty of my skill! (He leaves.)
Toby, closing the door behind him and locking it:
And now you old fool, listen as hard as you like! If you hear a word of anything that is going to be said here, I’ll owe you a sandwich and a pint!
Scene 9
Toby and Brook, then Jackson.
Brook:
So, what exactly do you plan to do with this bloke?
Toby:
Nothing at all. In two hours, you’ll set him free.
Brook:
And what do I tell him?
Toby:
That our plans were foiled!
Brook:
Right. (The clock strikes eleven.)
Jackson, returning from stage left. He walks in backwards, closes the door and tries to regain his composure:
Eleven o’clock on the dot!
Toby, softly, to Brook:
The boss…
Jackson, to himself:
I told Ketty to meet me here at eleven… (A knock on the door.) And there she is! (To Toby and Brook:) Not a word from either of you. As far as you’re concerned, you don’t know me! (Jackson sits down on stage right. Toby stays on the left as Brook opens the door.)
Scene 10
The same characters, and Ketty.
Ketty:
I’m here to see Mr. Jackson. Is he in?
Brook:
He is! Please, come in, miss. (She enters. Brook closes the door and walks to his bar.)
Jackson, standing and walking towards Ketty:
Ketty!
Ketty:
You told me to come at eleven o’clock… and here I am!
Jackson:
That’s ny Ketty… my dear, sweet Ketty. (He kisses her.)
Ketty:
Oh, in front of everyone?
Jackson, laughing:
Everyone? Its just a barman and his drunk apprentice, and neither of them care a whit about what we do.
Ketty, sitting stage right, close to the table:
When can we cast off these silly restraints? When ca we see each other freely? In broad daylight!
Jackson, sitting beside her:
Soon, perhaps! When Ireland is finally liberated! For now, however, I’m a wanted man, and I must hide to avoid the horrible charges held against me. But don’t you worry… happy days shall return once more. And if they don’t come soon enough, we shall leave England together! You don’t have any reason to stay in London, do you?
Ketty:
I only want to be with you – always with you, my love!
Jackson:
Even if you were to find your parents again?
Ketty, standing:
Parents? Only the fortunate have parents…
Jackson:
Who knows? Fate may one day reunite you.
Ketty:
You’ve no idea how many times I’ve wondered about that.
Jackson, standing:
Really?
Ketty:
Yes, I’ve dreamt of it often. I’d see myself in the loving arms of Mother and Father, and my imagination would fill in all the details of those lovely beings… Their faces, so vividly portrayed that they’ve been engraved upon my soul. I don’t know if these are far away memories, or futuristic premonitions, but I feel as though my dream may come true one day…
Jackson:
And if that were to happen, and you were to become wealthy… would you still love me?
Ketty:
I would still be yours, of course! You saved me from death itself, and I owe you my life for it!
Jackson:
My sweet love! (He kisses her passionately.)
Ketty, walking stage left:
Why are we wasting our time with these silly, impractical dreams?
Jackson:
Impractical? One never knows, my dear…
Ketty, looking at him:
Oh, you don’t know anything about it!
Jackson:
No. I just mean… I have faith in the future, and I will wait with you always.
Ketty:
I’m afraid you won’t be waiting long! I’ve been meaning to tell you… I was arrested today.
Jackson, feigning surprise:
You were?
Ketty:
Yes, for fighting with that miserable wench I told you about.
Jackson:
Blackornn?
Ketty:
Yes. The witch found me again. She fought with me and tried to take me away with her… Then two coppers stopped her and brought us to see the Chief of Police.
Jackson:
And then?
Ketty:
Sir Stevens asked me about you! He tried to make me talk, to turn you in. Of course you know I said nothing, but he knows I love you. I’m afraid he wants me to spy on you for him, and I’m afraid!
Jackson:
Don’t worry yourself. I’ve taken every precaution and I’ve nothing to fear.
Ketty, placing her hands on her shoulders:
Oh, Jackson… if you want…
Jackson:
What?
Ketty:
If you want to tell me everything… what you think, what worries you…
Jackson:
But you know I don’t hide anything from you! I’m all yours! Only yours!
Ketty:
Do you mean it?
Jackson, embarrassed:
Yes, yes. For now, however, you should go back home.
Ketty:
You’re not coming with me?
Jackson:
No, but it won’t be long until I come for you again. Go now, I’ll see you soon. (As Brook opens the door for Ketty to leave, Blackornn stumbles in.)
Scene 11
The same characters, and Blackornn.
Blackornn, falling into a chair near the bar:
How about a drink, ‘ere!
Ketty, frightened and edging to the right:
Blackornn! She followed me! (Jackson holds her.)
Blackornn:
A drink, I said!
Ketty, softly:
She’s drunk!
Toby, laughing:
Aye. I’ll bet whatever chap sold her her last drink surely got an earful for his troubles!
Blackornn, standing up and learning on the bar:
What, ain’t there no one servin’, then?
Brook, behind the bar:
I’m here!
Toby, on the left, approaching her:
As am I, your highness!
Blackornn:
Is that all of us, then? Ah, no – I see a pretty little face there in the corner, with her lover, no doubt. Ain’t love grand? It tears you up with its rose-colored claws, right until ya bleed… (Takes up her glass and drinks.) But its sweet all the same. I knew it once, I did.
Toby:
Aye, in the days of Cromwell no doubt!
Blackornn, taking some steps toward him:
What did you say?
Jackson, softly to Ketty:
Go, get out of here, now! (He shoves her out.)
Ketty, softly:
Farewell for now. (She leaves through the back.)
Scene 12
The same characters, without Ketty.
Blackornn:
Is the young one leaving so soon? I do like them young… I think I’ll have a chat with her.
Jackson, in front of the door, which he closed:
No!
Blackornn:
What’s this?
Jackson:
Don’t you know me, Blackornn?
Blackornn, leaning against him:
Hold on… you… you know my name?
Jackson:
Yes.
Blackornn:
I’m not joking with you… I want to leave.
Jackson, taking her by the arms and throwing her back to the right:
Don’t bother, you’re not going anywhere.
Blackornn, falling into a chair near the table on the right:
But…
Jackson, walking towards her:
You’re working for the police now, aren’t you!
Blackornn:
What?
Jackson:
You’re working for the coppers, and you’re here to follow Ketty and find her “suspicious” lover’s hideout!
Blackornn, laughing hideously:
Ha! Ha ha ha! (Stops laughing.) How wrong you are, young man! I’m following this child… a child I raised myself, I might add… an ingrate who left me all alone. I intend to get her back, so she can take care of me for the rest of my short life… That’s all! (Standing up.) So, let me go! Now!
Jackson:
No!
Blackornn, losing her patience and walking to the left:
Damn you!
Toby, to Jackson:
Watch it… she’s not tipsy anymore.
Jackson:
Listen to me, woman. You’re wasting your time trying to uncover my identity. Where I come from, they say time is money… wouldn’t you agree? I’ve nothing to fear from you. In fact, we’re quite similar, you and I. Except, I’ve got a bit of an advantage over you. You know know who I am… you’ll never know who I am… But I know you you are!
Blackornn:
Let me go!
Jackson:
No! To be fair, your first little mission from Sir Stevens never had a chance. And I doubt very much that you’ll be around to help him in any more of his grand pursuits. (He grabs her arms.) I’ve got you now, and you’re not going anywhere.
Blackornn, shaking, then after a time, looking him in the eyes:
You… you’re going to kill me?
Jackson, his eyes fixed on hers:
Give me a reason not to.
Blackornn:
You mean… that means…. You’re…
Jackson:
Yes!
Blackornn, trying to break free of his grasp, shouting:
Oh! God! (She falls to her knees.)
Jackson:
So, you admit it then?
Blackornn:
Yes, yes! But I won’t tell anyone, I swear it to you!
Jackson:
I have no reason to believe you… but there may be a way for you to save your own neck.
Blackornn, standing up:
That’s all I ask! What do you want me to do? Tell me… anything… I’ll do it!
Jackson:
You must be truthful with me…
Blackornn:
Truthful…
Jackson:
And tell me the truth about this young girl you say you raised… Ketty.
Blackornn, aside:
Ah! (Loudly.) Ask me anything.
Jackson:
Do you know this girl’s family?
Blackornn:
No! As sure as you’re a man and I’m a woman, I swear I don’t know them!
Jackson:
A woman?
Blackornn:
An old woman, yes, I know… I’ve had plenty of people turn their nose up at me, I know.
Jackson:
How old was Ketty when she fell under your care?
Blackornn:
Two years old.
Jackson:
How did you get her?
Blackornn:
I kidnapped her!
Jackson:
You’re lying…
Blackornn:
No, I swear on all the saints in Heaven that I’m not! She was playing in Hyde Park with some other girls, and she was wearing these earrings… I took her for the silly little gems. I didn’t mean to keep her! I was so embarrassed afterwards… I wanted to throw her in the Thames. (Jackson moves towards her.) She thought she could leave me! But I’m not worried… after all, I raised her. That’s the truth, the whole truth!
Jackson:
And you never tried to find out who her parents were?
Blackornn:
Why would I do such a thing?
Jackson:
Good enough. That’s all I wanted to know.
Blackornn:
So I’m free? I’m alive!
Jackson:
Alive – yes. Free – no!
Blackornn:
What?
Jackson, calling:
Brook!
Brook, leaving the bar:
What is it?
Jackson:
Open the…. “bedroom.”
Brook:
Yes, sir. (He opens the trapdoor.)
Blackornn, frightened:
You promised you would let me go!
Jackson:
Yes, if you told me the truth. But you lied! Until you tell me what I want to hear, I’m going to keep you in a safe place.
Blackornn:
I swear to you…
Toby, on the left, grabbing her:
Don’t bother, you wretch… you’re wasting your breath!
Jackson, grabbing her himself and dragging her towards the trapdoor:
Are all of you down there?
Rixell, answering from below:
Yes!
Brook:
Here comes a package for you!
Blackornn:
No! No! I’ll talk! I’ll talk! Someone, help me! Help! (Jackson and Toby throw Blackornn into the cellar.)
Blackornn, shouting:
No! (She disappears. Brook closes the trapdoor.)
At the same time, the noise of several beat policemen can be heard out front. The noise moves from right to left as it becomes more faint. Brook quickly blows out the only candle left on stage, on the table to the right. Everyone stands absolutely still. The three of them listen carefully.
Brook, softly:
It’s the night watch!
Jackson, softly, standing on the trapdoor:
They’re leaving!
Toby, craning his neck to the left:
We’ll keep quiet for the next few hours.
Then, a ray of moonlight filters through the window, pierces the red cotton curtains and lights the scene somberly. Jackson signals to Toby and Brook. Toby heads toward the door on the left, opens it and makes a “come here” movement with his hand. Brook opens the back door and checks the road.
Scene 13
The same characters, two men who entered from the left, carrying the body of Mary Clarwick.
They enter slowly, Toby leading the way. They walk in front of Jackson, who shows them to the back door, then they exit.
Jackson, turning and standing at the doorway:
Soon, the rest of her traitorous sisters will share the same fate!
Jackson follows them, Brook following behind him. Stagemen enter from the doors on the left and back and clear out the stage. Change of setting.
Third Setting
The stage becomes a dark, hideous alley in Whitechapel, a sort of square. To the left is a common dwelling, the interior of which is visible. In the room there is a mattress, and old table and a chair.
Scene 1
Toby, then the Two Men, carrying the body of Mary Clarwick. Jackson follows.
At scene’s opening, Toby can be seen walking from stage right in the foreground, scouting around and watching attentively.
Toby, to himself:
Nobody’s here! (Aloud, softly.) Come on.
Two men enter, walking slowly and following Toby, then disappearing in the background to the left. When they’ve left, Jackson appears from stage right.
Jackson, walking in front of the room, stopping suddenly:
Ketty’s room… It will provide a good refuge in case we’re pursued. (He takes a key and opens the door, then cups his right ear towards the background.) Someone there? (He looks around.) A woman? One of Stevens’ spies? Ah, no… It’s Ketty. She mustn’t see me!
He disappears, as did Toby and the men.
Scene 2
Ketty, then the Irishwoman.
Ketty, entering from the right in the background. She walks slowly and reflectively:
Leave England… why not? We’ll be happy no matter where we live! So, its decided then. We shall leave as soon as possible.
Irishwoman, appearing stage right:
Yes, its her alright! Its really her! (She hides.)
Ketty:
What he said still troubles me though. Why did he bring up my parents? Why would he want to revive my innermost hopes? I shall never see them again… (She walks towards the dwelling.)
Irishwoman, to herself:
That must be where Jackson hides out!
Ketty:
Wait… my door, its open! Does that mean Jackson is here? (She enters the room and lights a candle. After a while, the Irishwoman walks over and investigates the area from right to left, then hides behind the room. Ketty illuminates the room and looks around.) No one. I must have forgotten to close it. (She sits on the chair after she closes the door, again reflecting.) Oh, anyone who abandons their child should know the pain they cause… the tears, the torture inflicted upon the poor creature that God had given them… just throwing it out on the street, exposed to limitless dangers. If only they knew, they would hold the child in their arms, grasp it to their chests and suffocate it in one last, loving embrace! Death... what is it but a godsend, compared to the miserable existence they’ve condemned me to live! No, I have no parents. I am completely alone!
(She extinguishes her light and lies down upon her bed.)
Irishwoman, approaching the door and searching for a way to see inside, to herself:
I want to get inside!
Ketty:
Dear God, forgive them as I have, despite the troubles I’ve endured. (She falls asleep. A clock far away rings 2 o’clock.)
Scene 3
Ketty, sleeping, the Irishwoman, then Warelepp, Rixell, Merson, Stops, then Jackson and Toby.
Irishwoman, taking the stage:
Ah, what a fine evening this has turned out to be! Sir Stevens will be very happy, now that I know where the girl lives… Now, my “Little Virgin,” your every move will be watched. And if you’re found to be part of this gang, it shall be too bad for you! (A noise from the right.) Someone’s coming!
(She curls up behind the room to the left.)
Warelepp, following Rixell, who enters from the right in the foreground:
Do you see him?
Rixell:
No.
Merson, following with Stops:
He can’t be late. He told us two o’clock, and the clock just two!
Stops, looking to the left:
Ah!
Warelepp:
Is it him?
Stop:
Yes!
Jackson, returning with Toby:
Well?
Warelepp:
A great haul! Two jewels, several banknotes and a fair amount of gold! (He hands it all to Jackson.)
Jackson:
Good. Have you recorded everything?
Rixell:
Yes, we put together a complete inventory! (Hands him a paper.) Here’s the list, you can check it yourself.
Toby:
Our business is nothing, if not organized!
Jackson:
Tomorrow we shall split the earnings.
Warelepp:
What do we do with Mary Clarwick’s body?
Jackson:
Throw it on the corner of Cleveland street… and make sure you give it a good slice through the abdomen.
Toby:
Make it a pretty one… it shall be our hallmark!
Jackson:
Now, split up and remain inconspicuous.
Men:
Until tomorrow!
Toby:
Good night, boss.
Jackson:
Go!
(They leave, following different routes.)
Scene 4
Jackson, the Irishwoman (hidden), Ketty, sleeping.
Jackson, anxiously, to himself:
I absolutely must break into this James Plack’s house… his millions are just crying out to be stolen! But how? No matter, I’ll find a way! (He moves towards the dwelling.)
Irishwoman, to herself, crawling in the back toward the right:
Who is this man?
Jackson, stopping all of a sudden, to himself, without making a move:
There’s someone here! (He springs all of a sudden upon the Irishwoman, grabbing her by the throat.)
Irishwoman:
Help! Help me!
Jackson, dragging her out to the right:
So, you lied to me!
Irishwoman, her voice struggling through his grip:
Don’t hurt me! I admit it, I lied!
Jackson, wringing her throat:
Who are you?
Irishwoman:
But…
Jackson:
Who are you? Answer me!
Irishwoman:
I’m called… the “Irishwoman.”
Jackson, ejactulating:
The Irishwoman!
Irishwoman:
Help me!
Ketty, waking up:
Hmmm? What is the … (She rises.)
Jackson:
You turned in Cross, and for that you shall die! (He beats her to the ground.)
Ketty, who has opened the door, appears at the doorway:
What is going on here? (She approaches the scene, on the front of her room.)
Irishwoman, screaming:
Help me! Help!
Jackson, raising a knife:
Here you are! (He strikes her.)
(A ray of moonlight illuminates the stage.)
Ketty, recognizing Jackson:
No, its him!
Jackson, tearing into the body, then standing:
Now you can tell Sir Stevens how Jack the Ripper gets his revenge! (He exits briskly to the right.)
Ketty, in front of her room, recoiling in horror:
No!
Act 3
Fourth Setting
A cottage in Belgravia. On the left, an elegant dwelling with a double-banistered stairway. On the right, in the background, a modest, rustic bungalow. Gates in the back, with a large doorway in the middle. On the left side of the door is a bench. Large trees on the left and right. Garden furniture.
As the curtain rises, James Plack, William Haxell, and Ellen are sitting at a table on the left, near the residence. They are just finishing afternoon tea.
Scene 1
James Plack, William Haxell, Ellen
William, to James:
You’ve not heard any news from Sir Stevens?
James, reading a newspaper:
No, and it worries me quite a bit! He promised to inform me the moment he found a probable lead. That was three days ago, and not a word since!
Ellen:
Be patient, father. London is a very large city.
James:
Yes, I know! (Reading his newspaper.) Look here, another Whitechapel crime last night.
William:
A new murder?
Ellen:
Another woman?
James:
Yes. This makes three now! Who is this monster? And why does he hunt down these unfortunate women?
William:
A madman, perhaps.
James:
And again this time, just as the one three days previous, the murderer forewarned the Chief of Police. He signed himself “Jack the Ripper.”
Ellen:
Father, don’t read that horrible rubbish!
James:
You’re right, my child. (After a pause.) Did you ever wonder, Sir William, why I chose to purchase a residence in this quarter of London?
William:
I always thought it was just the caprice of a millionaire.
James:
It had nothing to do with my millions. I moved here so that when I find my child, God-willing, all of this will help refresh her earliest memories of her family.
William:
So this is where you lived when you decided to try your luck in Africa?
James:
Yes, right there! (He points to the bungalow on the right.) When this house was built (He points to the house on the left.) I spared no expense… But I made absolutely sure that the bungalow, the garden, and these enormous trees would remain untouched. In other words, anything that could spark a memory for my poor Clary, since she, as a child, used to run and play there.
William:
I see. If you find her, as we all hope you will, perhaps all this will remind her of those happy days.
James:
Yes. (To Ellen.) Ellen, what are you thinking about?
Ellen, standing:
Clark, my poor sister! I was very young when she was taken from us. I’m barely one year older than her. Yet nevertheless I can still see her lovely black hair, all in curls, and her big blue eyes, and her face, so sweet and yet sad at the same time. Oh, father, how I want to see her again!
James:
My dear child!
Ellen:
What has become of her? Is she suffering? She calls for us, father, I’m sure of it. And she wonders the same of me, whom she loved so much. Oh, Clary! Return to us! Return to us!
James:
I just want to know if she’s still alive…
Ellen:
Oh, father, don’t say such things! No, everything in my soul tells me she is still alive. The thought of her otherwise… oh, its too ghastly to consider! No, God would never allow one of his angels to return to him in Heaven before she had her chance to experience love and happiness on Earth.
Maid, appearing on the steps:
Sir Stevens is here.
All:
Ah!
James:
Please bid him enter at once! (The maid disappears.)
William:
For him to trouble himself enough to come here in person, he must have important news to tell you!
(The maid introduces Sir Stevens, then leaves.)
Scene 2
Same characters, Sir Stevens
James, walking toward Sir Stevens:
Do you bring good news to this broken home?
Sir Stevens:
Perhaps!
Ellen:
My God!
William:
Ellen!
Sir Stevens:
I need some information which I’m afraid only you can provide, and which may greatly hasten success in our current investigation.
James:
Do you mean to say there is a chance we shall find her, alive?
Sir Stevens:
I would suggest that you not raise your hopes too high, just yet. Disappointment at this stage, if indeed that is how this shall turn out, would be too painful if you did.
James, pointing him to the bench on the right and sitting beside him:
Ask me anything, I’ll answer anything you like.
Sir Stevens:
I believe I have found your daughter’s nanny.
James:
What do you mean?
Ellen:
If we’ve found her, then perhaps…
Sir Stevens:
Please, let’s not get our hope up too much. This woman will do all she can to hide her crime – the disappearance of the child you placed in her care. At this time I don’t want to acknowledge the possibility of her being dead, especially since this woman is one of those miserable wretches capable of… God only knows.
Ellen:
Oh, no!
Sir Stevens:
During la dernière rafle that was made according to my order…
William:
La dernière rafle?
Sir Stevens:
Oh, it’s a French expression for which there really is no English equivalent. It means, more or less, a general roundup of the criminal population. I rather prefer the French term, and so I’ve taken it as my own. We English love to seize upon anything and everything we find pleasing, eh? (Returning to the topic.) Regardless, we found during this dernière rafle one “Betty Blackornn” – a real monster both in appearance and disposition, with all the hideous qualities of a snake and a vulture, mixed together as one! The important thing is that I believe that Betty Blackornn and Victoria Trevor are… one and the same!
James:
Victoria Trevor!
Sir Stevens, standing:
Sir James, I must have an exact description of the child that was stolen from you. I’m sorry if this bring back some painful memories.
James, sadly:
My poor little Clary… she was a brunette…
Sir Stevens:
Brunette…
Ellen:
With big, blue eyes!
Sir Stevens:
Blue eyes… anything else? Try to remember… did she have any particular markings that may help us identify her, if we find someone we suspect might be her? This will be of the utmost importance.
James:
I’m thinking…
Ellen, all of a sudden:
Oh, wait… Yes! Yes! I remember. One day, while we were running down one of the paths in the garden… (Points to the foreground to the right.) Right there, she fell! She knocked her forehead against the base of one of the trees and wounded herself quite badly.
James:
Yes! Yes! I remember that as well!
Ellen:
Oh, how she bled that day! The poor thing cried for hours! We bandaged her right away and she healed after only a few days, but it left a scar. I can still see it, clear as day… (Touches her forehead.) Right… here!
Sir Stevens, excited:
Ah!
James:
What is it?
Sir Stevens, regaining his composure:
Nothing! (Aside.) Oh, this is terrible!
Ellen, noticing his discomfort:
My sister is still alive, isn’t she? You’ve seen her?
Sir Stevens, embarrassed:
If you’ll just…
Ellen:
I saw a gleam of recognition in your eyes! I’m sorry to put you on the spot, Sir Stevens, but I want the truth! I’d rather know the truth than to harbor this appalling doubt that’s just killing my father.
Sir Stevens:
Get a hold of yourself, my dear. I still don’t know anything… I’m still looking.
William:
You won’t get your hopes up until you’ve…
Sir Stevens:
No…
Ellen, trying to read his face:
Oh!
Sir Stevens, to Sir James:
Sir James, could we continue this in your office? I have certain questions I must ask you.
Ellen, crying:
Oh, my sister is dead! And you don’t want to… or you’re afraid to admit it!
Sir Stevens:
No! No! (Aside.) Though it might be better if she were!
James:
Come with me, Sir Stevens.
Sir Stevens:
Take heart, miss, and put your faith in God’s mercy.
(He leaves for the house with Sir James, to the left.)
Scene 3
William and Ellen.
William, softly to Ellen:
Ellen…
Ellen, falling heavily onto the bench:
It’s all too much, dear William…
William:
Ellen, it breaks my heart to see you this way.
Ellen:
I’m sorry, but you must understand – my sister is lost in this enormous city, preyed upon, no doubt, by poverty and grief… And just the thought of it keeps me in this misery, like a circle of fire closing in upon me, torturing me. I’m amazed I’ve not gone mad from it all.
William:
Ellen, calm yourself! The affection you have for your poor sister Clary mustn’t make you forget your love for your father.
Ellen:
My father…
William:
He’d die without you, don’t ever forget that! You are all he has now… he hasn’t another soul in the world to watch out for him. Don’t let your despair get the better of you. On the contrary, bolster your courage with the hopes you still have… and even if all your hope is gone, stay among the living nevertheless, so at least he can still clasp you to his breast and say, “I still have you!”
Ellen:
Yes… yes!
William:
You have no right nor reason to die – your father loves you very much.
Ellen, standing:
You’re right, my friend. I owe it to my father.
Scene 4
Same characters, Ketty, then a newsboy, then Toby.
Ketty, faint, barely able to stand on her feet, appears at the gate and wraps her hands around the bars:
Help me! Please, help! (She collapses onto the bench on the left.)
William:
A beggar! (He runs towards her.)
Ellen, running to the table and pouring a cup of tea:
She looks to be on the verge of death! (She goes to Ketty, whom William is supporting.) Here, take this.
Ketty, weakly, after having taken several deep draughts:
I’m hungry…
Ellen:
Oh, poor creature! Help me bring this young girl to the table. (They both assist Ketty in walking toward the table.)
Ketty, sitting:
Thank you! Thank you!
Ellen:
Here, eat!
William:
The poor child!
Ellen:
She’s on the verge of starvation…
Newspaper boy, offstage:
Read all about it! New crime in Whitechapel!
Ketty, pausing mid-bite:
My god!
Newspaper boy:
‘Orrible murder of two women by Jack the Ripper!
(Ketty’s head perks up.)
Ellen:
What is the matter?
Ketty:
Nothing, nothing!
Newspaper boy, appearing in the background, approaching from the right:
‘Orrible details! Description of the murderer! Just one penny!
Ketty:
Ah! (Running toward the newspaper boy.) Hold on, there! Give me one, give me one!
Newspaper boy, handing her a newspaper and exiting, still yelling:
Read all about it! New crime in Whitechapel! (His voice fades away to the left.)
William, watching Ketty:
What’s all the excitement…
Ketty, trying to read:
His description! Where is it? Where is it? Oh, my vision is all blurred… I can’t read it!
Ellen:
What is it, my child? What do you want to know?
Ketty:
The… The killer’s description… there! There! I want to read it, but I can’t… Read it to me, please!
Ellen, reading:
“Jack the Ripper is a man approximately 50 years of age, very tall with broad shoulders. Hair and beard are red. A reward of £500 is offered to any individual who brings him to justice.”
Ketty, breathing a sigh of relief:
Ah! (She takes back the newspaper, slowly, and thanks her with a nod of the head. To herself, walking stage right.) They’ll never find him – they suspect someone else entirely! My God, though… I still love him, despite it all. Oh, its so terrible… unspeakable! (She falls into the bench on the right.)
William:
What is the matter with her?
Ellen:
I don’t know.
William:
Look how frightened she is… Do you think she knows this madman?
Ellen:
What are you talking about, dear friend? (Walking in front of him.) No! No, she’s in such pain… look how she’s crying! She deserves our help. (To Ketty.) Come back, here, miss, and please… have something to eat.
Ketty:
You’re very kind, thank you! (She walks back to the table, supported by William and Ellen.)
Toby, from the background, with horse. Aside:
Here it is! The boss wants me to case out the joint. (Approaching.) Excuse me, my lord… I’m looking for the house of an honourable gentleman who requested my services. I’ve lost the address. His name is Lord Maxwell.
William, busy helping Ketty sit back down at the table:
There’s no one by that name here, my boy.
Toby:
My apologies, my lord! (Aside, glancing at the house on the left.) The front door opens to the garden. Excellent. (Waving.) My lord, my lady. (Seeing Ketty, aside.) Ah!
William:
Go on your way, now, boy. Go on!
Toby, aside:
It’s the “Little Virgin”! What the… (Loud.) No worries, my lord. No worries. (Aside.) The “Little Virgin”… here? What can that mean? I’ve got to find the boss. (He leaves by the back.)
Scene 5
The same characters, without Toby.
Ellen, to William:
How lovely she is!