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The Brass Bottle: A Farcical Fantastic Play in Four Acts
The Brass Bottle: A Farcical Fantastic Play in Four Acts
THE FIRST ACT
The scene represents Horace Ventimore's rooms in Vincent Square, Westminster.
The sitting-room is simply but artistically furnished and decorated. Walls with a lining-paper of a pleasant green, hung with coloured prints and etchings. Fireplace at back. Down left is a large open French window, opening on a balcony, with a view beyond of the open square and some large dull-red gasometers in the distance. Above the window is a small Sheraton bookcase. On the right of fireplace is a door leading to the landing and staircase. Down on the right, another door to Ventimore's bedroom. Above this door, a small Sheraton sideboard. Near the window on left is an armchair, and by it a table, with two smaller chairs. [N.B. —Right and Left mean the spectator's Right and Left throughout.]
The time is late afternoon in summer.
When the curtain rises there is no one in the room. A knock is heard at the door on right of fireplace. Then, after a pause, Mrs. Rapkin enters. She is a pleasant, neatly dressed, elderly woman, of the respectable landlady class. She wears a cooking-apron and her sleeves are turned up. She looks round the room, and turns to the door as Professor Futvoye appears.
Mrs. Rapkin
Mr. Ventimore don't seem to be in, after all, sir. Unless he's in his bedroom. [She comes down to the door on right, as Professor, Mrs., and Miss Futvoye enter from the other door. Professor Futvoye is elderly and crabbed; his wife, grey-haired and placid, bearing with him as with an elderly and rather troublesome child; Sylvia Futvoye, their daughter, is a pretty and attractive girl of about twenty. Mrs. Rapkin knocks at the bedroom door.] Mr. Ventimore! A gentleman and two ladies to see you. [She opens the door – then, to the Professor.] No, sir, he hasn't come in yet – but he won't be long now.
Professor Futvoye
[By the table.] Are you sure of that, ma'am?
Mrs. Rapkin
Well, sir, he said as how he'd be in early, to make sure as everythink was as it should be. [In a burst of confidence.] If you must know, he's expecting company to dinner this evening.
[Sylvia has moved to the window; Mrs. Futvoye stands by the table.
Professor Futvoye
[Placing his hat and stick on a small shelf on the left of fireplace, and standing by table.] I'm aware of that, ma'am. We happen to be the company Mr. Ventimore is expecting. Don't let us keep you from your cooking.
Mrs. Rapkin
[With another burst of confidence.] Well, sir, to tell you the truth, I 'ave a good deal on my 'ands just now.
[She goes out by door at back.
Sylvia
[After moving about and inspecting the pictures.] I rather like Horace's rooms.
Professor Futvoye
[Irritably.] I wish he'd manage to be in 'em! I fully expected he'd be back by this time. Most annoying!
Mrs. Futvoye
[Resignedly.] I thought you were bringing us all this way for nothing! And when you must be quite exhausted enough as it is, after lecturing all the afternoon!
Professor Futvoye
I'm not in the least exhausted, Sophia; not in the least!
Mrs. Futvoye
Well, Anthony, if you're not, Sylvia and I are! [She sits in armchair by the window.] But why you couldn't wait till eight o'clock to know how Horace got on at that sale I can't think!
Professor Futvoye
He ought to have been back long ago! I can see no excuse for his dawdling like this. None whatever!
[He sits on right of table.
Sylvia
[Standing behind table.] Perhaps he went back to his office?