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Produced at the Haymarket Theatre, (under the management of Mr. Buckstone,) Thursday, Nov. 22, 1860.

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*The character of Gulliver Cumming was expressly written for MR. BUCKSTONE, but can be played by eccentric light comedians.

COSTUMES.

GULLIVER CUMMING.-Peculiar travelling coat, with large fur collar and trimmings; spotted tiger skin waistcoat, plaid trousers, travelling cap, etc.

HECTOR WIGGLETON.-1st dress: Jaunty travelling suit. 2nd dress: Volunteer uniform, scarlet coat, hat and feather, sword, etc., all of exaggerated dimension.

BANTAM.-Country gentleman and sporting" make up.”
BOB.-Waiter's usual dress.

MRS. WIGGLETON.

SOPHIA.

Showy travelling dresses.

SCENE-The White Hart Inn, Parsley-on-the-Green, during the annual fair.

Time; Present Day.

Duration of Performance, 35 Minutes.

THE

LION SLAYER.

SCENE.-A parlour in a country hotel-principal entrance at back, c., ditto R. and L., at back, L. of door, a window. R., a table on which is a guitar; a gun is suspended against wall at back. L. of door, a table with a chair on each side.

Enter BOB, C., with a newspaper in his hand.

66

BOB. (speaking off) Yes, sir, coming sir, but I must have a look at the paper first. (throws himself into an armchair) I want to see whether there's anything about the lion that escaped last Wednesday from the wild beast show at the neigh'brin' village fair! Ah! here's the harticle! (reading) Thrilling occurrence-Escape of a Lion from a Menagerie.-Great consternation excited in the neighbourhood of Parsley-on-the-Green, by the unaccountable escape of a remarkably fine lion from a menagerie which had visited the town fair-the animal is supposed to have taken refuge in a forest situated on the outskirts of the town

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VOICE. (without) Waiter!

BOB. (without moving) Comin', sir. (soliloquizing) My eyes, here's a pretty state o' things-to have a live lion out for a prowl in the werry surrubs o' one's native willage-the hidea's horful; I am that shaky and narvous I've done nothing but break plates all day long!

Enter WIGGLETON, C., carrying carpet bag, &c., followed by
MRS. WIGGLETON and SOPHIA. (N.B. Wiggleton speaks
throughout with an affectation of extreme ferocity.)
WIGGLE. (roaring) Waiter!

BOB. (still absorbed in paper, answering mechanically) Comin' sir.

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WIGGLE. (angrily) Is this what you call coming"? What the devil do you mean, sir, by sitting there reading the newspaper, and leaving a gentleman-a gentleman and an officer-to carry up his own luggage?

BOB. (aside, taking carpet bag, &c.) I'd ha' given sixpence to finish that ere harticle.

MRS. W. Well, Mr. Wiggleton, I should much like to know your motive for suddenly taking it into your head to stop at this stupid little town, when our journey is scarcely half accomplished.

SOPHIA. Yes, my dear uncle, what is the use of our alighting here, when

WIGGLE. Never mind, miss! (to WAITER) We shall sleep here to-night: so, waiter, see that rooms, (fiercely) well aired rooms, mind you, are prepared for us!

BOB. Rooms, sir-yes sir!

WIGGLE. And I say, waiter, let's have lunch immediately. BOB. Lunch, sir-yes sir.

WIGGLE. Cold meat and pickles, and d'ye hear, (fiercely) lots o' Cayenne pepper!

BOB. Lots o' Cayenne pepper-yes sir.

This way,

ladies, the chambermaid will show you your rooms.

(Exeunt BOB and SOPHIA, L., MRS. WIGGLETON is following them, when MR. WIGGLETON stops her. WIGGLE. (detaining MRS. WIGGLETON, in a tragic voice) Madam, a word with you.

MRS. W. (in a tone of languid surprise) Madam! Is it thus my Hector addresses his Sophonisba !

WIGGLE. (fiercely) You are aware, madam, that I am of a remarkably jealous, and intensely excitable nature; I have observed, madam, with ill-suppressed indignation, that an individual with an extensive fur collar and trimmings to match, who sat opposite you in the train, was continually glancing in your direction.

MRS. W. (languishingly) Absurd suspicions, and unworthy of my Hector; the young man was doubtless looking out of the opposite window.

WIGGLE. Mrs. Wiggleton, he was looking out of nothing of the kind; when we left the train and got inside the coach, he left the train and got outside the coach, and every time the vehicle stopped, the impertinent puppy got down and stared in at the window!

MRS. W. (simperingly) Might not the young man's admiration have been intended for your niece.

WIGGLE. Mrs. W., seek not to divert my jealous fury by pitiful subterfuge! You know my energetic temperament -you know that I, Hector Wiggleton, draper and hosier, have recently joined the "Royal United Invulnerable Horse Volunteers," the uniform of which corps is now in my portmanteau! (enthusiastically) Yes, I burn to plunge into some desperate duel, some dashing affair of honour, that shall cause mankind to exclaim, (striking a tremendous attitude) is this the man we called a haberdasher?

MRS. W. (affectedly) Moderate your heroic yearnings! WIGGLE. (continuing) And I hereby give notice, in my twofold capacity of citizen and soldier, that the man who looks twice at the wife of Hector Wiggleton, shall answer for it (furiously) with his life! and as for that fellow with the extensive fur collar and trimmings to match, if ever I come across him, (stamping in a paroxysm of fury) I—I'll— a-a-damme I-I'll

Enter SOPHIA, L.

SOPHIA. My dear uncle, what is all this noise about? WIGGLE. Ask no questions, miss; you'll soon have matrimonial jars of your own to attend to.

SOPHIA. Why, my dear uncle, what do you mean?

WIGGLE. (mysteriously) Allow me to inform you Miss Sophia, that I have a husband in my eye for you. (producing letter from his pocket) Here is a letter from my old friend Splasher of Gloucester; he informs me that his nephew, an excessively nice young man with a first rate business, is looking out for a wife, and Splasher thinks it a first rate opportunity for cementing the friendship which has long existed between us, by a matrimonial alliance.

SOPHIA. (confused) Dear me, uncle, this is so very sudden that really

WIGGLE. (impetuously) Nonsense, Miss! if the young man proves a satisfactory match, I'll order the wedding breakfast forthwith. (angrily) But what's that rascally waiter doing with the lunch all this time. (furiously) İf he doesn't make his appearance in rather less than two two's-(burlesque fury) By Jove-I'll—I'll—(stamping) damme-I'll.

Enter BOB, L.

BOB. Please, sir, lunch is laid in the next room.

WIGGLE: Aha! that's lucky! by George I'm at it immediately, I am by George! ladies follow me.

(Exeunt, L.

Re-enter BOB, L. after ushering them into room, L.

BOB. Now then, I shall be able to get a sight at that 'ere interestin' article about the lion! (taking up paper) Only fancy if the hinfuriated animal was to get in at the little back window and hide hisself under my turn-up bedstead! B-r-r-r-r! (shuddering)

Enter SQUIRE BANTAM, C.

BANT. Aha, Bob! Any news about the lion yet? I declare I've been dreaming about him all night—what an awful state of things! one might as well be living in the middle of the great Desert of Sahara!

BOB. (shuddering violently) He ain't been heard of yet, Squire; he's out for a prowl for his own partickler gratification-there's summut about him in our local paper-here it is! (handing paper to SQUIRE Bantam.)

BANT. (reading) "Thrilling occurrence-Escape from a menagerie-remarkably fine lion! the animal is supposed to have taken refuge in a forest situated in the outskirts of the town. The inhabitants of the district are in the greatest terror, and application has been made to the cele brated Gordon Cumming, the Lion Slayer, who, it is hoped will kindly undertake to recapture or destroy the dangerous quadruped!"

BOB. (interrupting) Gordon Cumming! (with a burst of enthusiasm) Crikey! won't he pepper the monster!

BANT. (eagerly) Gordon Cumming! By George, this is news! I say, Bob, if he comes he's sure to put up here, it's the only decent hotel in the town! so mind you let me know the instant he arrives. As president of the local sporting club, it will devolve upon me to receive the Lion Slayer with all due ceremony.

BOB. All right, Squire, I'll let you know. (CUMMING'S voice without calling, "Waiter.") Čoming, sir.

BANT. (going) Well, this is news and no mistake. (exit, c., as he is going out he runs against MR. GULLIVER CUMMING, who enters C., carrying in one hand a carpet-bag, and over his arm railway rugs, &c., he is somewhat "loudly" attired in a peculiarly cut travelling coat, with a remarkably

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