ACT I.
SCENE I.—Nursery of Mrs. Superstition, nursing her Infant.Angels surround her.The Devil and Imps enter.
Mrs. Superstition.—[Angels surround her.] Oh! what a blessed thing it is to have a good husband and a charming baby, like you; my exquisite cherub! [She pets and fondles infant.] O, you are too beautiful, and so healthy, that I could eat you, you little angel!
[Enter Devil.Exit Angels.]
Devil.—There she is, as disgustingly natural, as a perfect rose; and that infant is a fac-simile of herself! I'll put some of my notions into her fickle head. [Smells air.] Ah! the air in this room is considerably impregnated with foul gases and imps; [Enter four Leading Imps,] and I'll add fuel to it, and create in the vitals of mother and infant, abnormal action—disease! Ha! ha! ha! [Imps laugh and tumble.]
Mrs. S.—[In deep thought and solemn look.] Blessed baby, if you should take ill, what should I do? Oh! I should go wild ! You look changed! [Raising baby to her face.Imps touch baby.] You moan, great heavens, you are sick, and I am alone.
Devil. — No, my charming Madam, you are not alone, while I am about ! [Imps very affectionate to Madam.} Please, most wise Madam, hearken unto the voice of comfort ! You possess a charmed life ; moreover, shall I remind you that infants require changes in their early days ? Yes, there is too much air, — draughts of cool air, — in this beautiful nursery, also too much sun light ! Jf;.^. S. — What a foolish creature I am to permit my darling to be exposed to the elements of air and light ! I will wrap you up warmly. [Imps assist her to bundle up baby. } So now, precious darling, you will be nice and warm !
Baby.—[Imps pinch baby, it cries pitifully.] A-a-a-a.
Devil. — [Rubbing his hands gleefully. Aside.} She takes ; the brat cries, not being able to bear such m-uffling, until I pepper and pickle it with my panaceas ! [Imps laugh and tumble about lively. } Ha ! ha ! ha ! I'll put another flea in her ear ! [ To her.} My dear Madam, your infant is sick and you had better send for Dr. Drugopath. [Imps wild icithjoy.} JHfys. S. — Indeed ! indeed ! my little angel is very sick and I must send for the doctor ! [Imps breathe upon baby and rub up Madam's back. } Nurse ! John ! George ! Do you hear me ? [Angered.} No one about— Devil. — Oh ! yes, sweet lady, I am always about, when such saints as yourself call. [Imps in diabolical reverence and glee. } Mrs. S. — Who are you ? and what can you do for me in my dis- tress? I want some one to go for the doctor immediately! Devil. — Of course, sweet saint, now don't get into a passion. [Imps pinch her and vex her.} I'll send some one quickly. Here comes YouHg America, who will serve you I know. [Aside. ]
