air with her knife).-Go away! Go along, I say! No boys here! David (timidly looking up and touching her hand with his finger). If you please, ma'am. [Aunt B. starts.] If you please, aunt Aunt B. (amazedly).-Eh? David. If you please, aunt, I am your nephew! Aunt B. (sitting flat down in doorway).-Mercy on us! Mercy on us! David.-I am David Copperfield, of Blunderstone, in Suffolk, where you came after my papa died, on the night when I was born, and saw my dear mamma. Two or three years before mamma died she was married to a Mr. Murdstone-he had a sister who lived with usthey were both very cruel to me. I have been very unhappy since dear mamma died. I have been slighted, and taught nothing, and thrown upon myself, and put to work not fit for me. It made me run away to you. [Breaking into sobs.] I was robbed at first setting out, and have walked all the way, and have never slept in a bed since I began the journey. Aunt B. (rises, seizes David by the collar, brings him into the room, unlocks a cabinet, takes out large bottles and administers three or four different kinds of medicines as restoratives, exclaiming at intervals).—Mercy on us! Mercy on us! [She then places David upon the sofa, puts a shawl under his head, takes off handkerchief from her own head and places it under his feet to prevent him from soiling the cover, then rings bell. Enter servant.] Aunt B.-Janet, go up-stairs, give my compliments to my friend, Mr. Dick, and say I wish to speak to him. [Exit Janet, looking with surprised air at child on sofa.] 198 his tles and cines on us The 80s ief from vent his vant.] plimen speaki Aunt B. (seating herself behind screen).-Mercy on us! Mercy on us! Mercy on us! [Enter Mr. Dick, smiling.] Aunt B.-Mr. Dick, don't be a fool, because nobody can be more discreet than you can, when you choose. We all know that. So don't be a fool, whatever you are. You have heard me mention David Copperfield? Now, don't pretend not to have a memory, because you and I know better. Mr. Dick.-David Copperfield? David Copperfield? Oh, yes, to be sure. to be sure. David, certainly. Aunt B.-Well, this is his boy, his son. He would be as like his father as it's possible to be, if he was not so like his mother, too. Mr. Dick (smiling).—His son? David's son? Indeed! Aunt B.-Yes, and he has done a pretty piece of business. He has run away. Ah! His sister, Betsey Trotwood, if there had been a sister, never would have run away. Mr. Dick.-Oh! you think she wouldn't have run away? Aunt B.-Bless and save the man! how he talks! Don't I know she wouldn't? She would have lived with her godmother, and we should have been devoted to one another. Where, in the name of wonder, should his sister, Betsey Trotwood, have run from, or to? Mr. Dick.-Nowhere. Aunt B.-Well, then, how can you pretend to be wool-gathering, Dick, when you are as sharp as a surgeon's lancet? Now, here you see young David Copperfield, and the question I put to you is, what shall I do with him? Mr. Dick (scratching his head feebly).—What shall you do with him? Oh! do with him? Aunt B. (holding up her forefinger).-Yes. Come! I want some very sound advice. Mr. Dick.-Why, if I was you, I should-I should wash him! Aunt B.-Janet, Mr. Dick sets us all right. Heat the bath! [Exit Janet.] Aunt B. (looking out of door or window, calling excitedly).-Janet! Janet! Donkeys! Drive them off! They sha'n't trespass on my green! Now, Mr. Dick, whatever do you suppose possessed that poor unfortunate Baby, that she must go and be married again? Mr. Dick.-Perhaps she fell in love with her second husband. Aunt B.-Fell in love! What do you mean? What business had she to do it? Mr. Dick (simpering).—Perhaps she did it for pleas, ure. Aunt B.-Pleasure, indeed! A mighty pleasure for the poor Baby to fix her simple faith upon any dog of a fellow, certain to ill-use her in some way or other. What did she propose to herself, I should like to know! She had had one husband. She had seen David Copperfield out of the world, who was always running after wax dolls from his cradle. And then, as if this was not enough, she marries a second time-goes and marries a murderer—or a man with a name like it-and stands in this child's light! And the natural consequence is, as anybody but a baby might have foreseen, that he prowls and wanders. He's as like Cain before he was grown up as he can be. [Calling.] Janet! Donkeys-donkeys! Now, Mr. Dick [forefinger up], I am going to ask you another question. Look at this child. Mr. Dick.-David's son? Aunt B.-Exactly so. What would you do with him? Aunt B.--Ah, with David's son. Mr. Dick.-Oh! Yes. Do with-I should-I should, after the bath, give him his supper and put him to bed. [Re-enter Janet.] Aunt B.-Janet, Mr. Dick sets us all right. Arrange the bed in the room overlooking the sea. Prepare the supper and I will see that the child has a bath. [CURTAIN.] SCENE II. Aunt Betsey seated at breakfast table profoundly meditating. David, very cleanly washed and nicely combed, fitted out in some of Mr. Dick's clothes, which are far too large for him, with a shawl tied round his shoulders, also seated at table and bashfully endeavoring to eat his breakfast. Aunt B.-Hallo! [David looks up respectfully.] I have written to him. David.-To? Aunt B.-To your father-in-law. I have sent him a letter that I'll trouble him to attend to, or he and I will fall out, I can tell him! David.-Does he know where I am, aunt? Aunt B.-I have told him, and I expect him here shortly. David.-Oh! I can't think what I shall do if I have to go back to Mr. Murdstone! Aunt B.-I don't know anything about it. I can't say, I am sure. We shall see. I wish you would go up-stairs and give my compliments to Mr. Dick, and I'll be glad to know how he gets on with his Memorial. [Exit David.] (Aunt Betsey rings bell, rises, goes to work-basket, seats herself, threads needle, and begins to sew. Janet enters, carries away dishes, and arranges room.) Aunt B. (soliloquizing).—How I wish that Murderer, or Murdstone, or whatever you call him, would make his appearance just now. I am in a mood to say some things he won't like. The statements I have, from time to time, drawn from the child go to prove that he has been more shamefully treated than I at first was led to believe. [Re-enter David.] Well, child, and what of Mr. Dick, this morning? David. He sends his compliments, and says he is getting on very well indeed. Aunt B.-And what do you think of Mr. Dick. [David hesitating.] Come! Your sister, Betsey Trot wood-if there had been a Betsey Trotwood-would have told me what she thought of any one directly. Be as like your sister would have been as you can, and speak out! David.-Is he is Mr. Dick-I ask because I don't know, aunt is he at all out of his mind, then? Aunt B.-Not a morsel. David.-Oh! (Timidly.) Aunt B.-If there is anything in the world that Mr. Dick is not, it's that. David.-Oh! Aunt B.-He has been called mad. I have a selfish pleasure in saying he has been called mad, or I should not have had the benefit of his society and advice for |