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BOX AND COX.
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which he puts on the fire.] Now, then, for my breakfast things. [Taking key, hung up, l., opens door l. and goes out, slamming the door after him, with a loud noise. |
| Box. | [Suddenly showing his head, from behind the curtains.] Come in! if it's you, Mrs. Bouncer—you needn't be afraid. I wonder how long I've been asleep? [Suddenly recollecting.] Goodness gracious—my bacon! [Leaps off bed, and runs to the fireplace.] Holloa! what's this? A chop! Whose chop? Mrs. Bouncer's, I'll be bound.—She thought to cook her breakfast while I was asleep—with my coals, too—and my gridiron! Ha, ha! But where's my bacon? [Seeing it on table.] Here it is. Well, 'pon my life, Bouncer's going it! And shall I curb my indignation? Shall I falter in my vengeance? No! [Digs the fork into the chop, opens window, and throws chop out—shuts window again.] So much for Bouncer's breakfast, and now for my own! [With the fork he puts the bacon on the gridiron again.] I may as well lay my breakfast things.—[Goes to mantel-piece at r., takes key out of one of the ornaments, opens door at r. and exit, slamming door after him. |
| Cox. | [Putting his head in quickly at l.] Come in—come in! [Opens door l. c. Enters with a small tray, on which are tea things, &c., which he places on drawers, l. and suddenly recollects.] Oh, goodness! my chop! [Running to fireplace.] Holloa—what's this? The bacon again! Oh, pooh! Zounds—confound it—dash it—damn it—I can't stand this! [Pokes fork into bacon, opens window, and flings it out, shuts window again, returns to drawers for tea things, and encounters Box coming from his cupboard with his tea things—they walk down c. of stage together.] Who are you, sir? |
| Box. | If you come to that—who are you? |
| Cox. | What do you want here, sir? |
| Box. | If you come to that—what do you want? |
| Cox. | [Aside.] It's the printer! [Puts tea things on the drawers. |
| Box. | [Aside.] It's the hatter! [Puts tea things on table. |
| Cox. | Go to your attic, sir— |
| Box. | My attic, sir? Your attic, sir! |
| Cox. | Printer, I shall do you a frightful injury, if you don't instantly leave my apartment. |
| Box. | Your apartment? You mean my apartment, you contemptible hatter, you! |
