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The Brass Bottle: A Farcical Fantastic Play in Four Acts. Anstey F.
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Автор произведения Anstey F.
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Dismiss bashfulness from thee. [Advancing towards him.] For by thy hand hath my deliverance been accomplished, and if I were to serve thee for a thousand years, regarding nothing else, even thus could I not requite thee!
[Retreating in some alarm to window.] Look here. I don't want anything, and – and the best thing you can do is to vanish.
[At back of table.] Not till thou hast told me thy name and the trade that thou followest.
Oh, you'll go then? [Fakrash assents.] Well, I'll humour you. My name is Horace Ventimore, and I'm an architect. I get my living by building houses, you know. Or rather, I should, if I could only get hold of a client – which I can't.
[Coming down nearer bottle.] Grant thy servant a period of delay, and it may be that I can procure thee a client.
Good old Arabian Nights again! You'd better not make the delay long – my head will be clear very soon.
Greater rewards by far will I bestow upon thee, most meritorious of men! But now – [going up to right] – I must leave thee for a season.
I knew I was coming round – you'll be gone directly.
Aye, for I must seek out Suleymán – [salaaming] – on whom be peace! – and obtain pardon from him.
[Eagerly.] Yes – I would! You go and do that! Make haste! [The door closes, leaving Fakrash visible through it in an unearthly light.] Good-bye – and good luck!
[Through door.] To thee also! And be assured that I will not be unmindful of thy welfare!
[Rubbing his eyes.] What a queer dream! [He goes up to the door, opens it, then returns and sits by table.] So vivid! [He sees the brass bottle on the floor.] Open! [Looking inside it.] Empty! H'm, better get it out of the way.
[Feebly.] Where am I? How did I – ? [He takes off his hat.] Ah, of course! I remember now. [He rises as Horace enters from bedroom.] Mr. – ah – Ventimore, I think? Mr. Horace Ventimore?
[Slightly surprised.] Yes, that's my name. [Offering chair on right of table.] Won't you sit down?
Thank you – I will. [He sits down.] I – I ought to apologise for dropping in on you in this – ah – unceremonious way – but I acted, I may say – ah – on a sudden impulse.
I'm afraid I haven't much time to spare – but if it's anything of importance —
[Panting.] You must give me a little time – till I – ah – get my wind again.
Certainly. I know the stairs here are rather steep.
Are they? I don't remember noticing them. However! My name, Mr. Ventimore, is Wackerbath – Samuel Wackerbath, of Wackerbath and Greatrex, a firm of auctioneers and estate agents whose name may – ah – possibly be not unfamiliar to you.
[Who has obviously never heard it before.] Oh, of course – of course.
I may tell you that for the last few years I have rented an old place – Moatham Abbey they call it – in Surrey, which is not quite as up-to-date as I could wish in the matter of modern conveniences.
That's not unusual with ancient abbeys, is it?
[Solemnly.] Precisely. Well, to come to the point, I've lately acquired some land in the neighbourhood of Surrey and Hampshire, with a view to building a country residence. [Horace becomes more interested, and seats himself at table on Mr. Wackerbath's right.] You see, there's an excellent site – on a hill with a south aspect, just above the village of Lipsfield, and overlooking the valley and river —
[Making a note.] Well, Mr. Wackerbath – ?
Well, as I was saying only a minute or two ago to a friend as we were crossing Westminster Bridge on our way to Waterloo – [He pauses, with an endeavour to recollect.] Where was I?
Waterloo.
Ah, yes. I remarked to him: "All I require is a thoroughly capable architect." [Horace grows alert and excited.] And instantly your name flashed across my mind. So I – ah – hurried off at once, and – here I am!
[With a sudden misgiving.] May I ask – you – you weren't recommended to me by – by – [he looks round at the door through which Fakrash has vanished] – any one?
[With dignity.] Certainly not! It was – ah – entirely my own idea. But why do you ask? [Huffily.] Is an introduction necessary?
[Relieved.] No, no – not in the least! I – I merely asked. I shall be very pleased to undertake the commission. Could you give me some idea of the amount you thought of spending on the house?
Well, I don't think I could go to more than – say, sixty thousand pounds.
[Half rising in his surprise.] Sixty thousand! [He recollects himself and sits down in assumed calm.] Oh, not more than that? I see.
For the house itself. But there'll be the out-buildings – and the decorations. Altogether, I sha'n't complain so long as the total doesn't exceed a hundred thousand. I take it that, for that sum, Mr. Ventimore, you could give me a country-house that I shall have no cause – ah – to feel ashamed of.
I can safely promise that. And now – when could I run down and have a look at the site, and go into the matter thoroughly?
We must fix a day later. I'm rather in a hurry now; and besides, I must consult the wife. Perhaps you could give me an appointment here?
These are only my private rooms. I shall be at my office in Great College Street to-morrow, if you could look in then. [Giving him card.] Here's the address.
Good! [He rises and moves towards window, while Horace rings bell by fireplace.] I'll look in on my way from Waterloo to the City. [He perceives that he is walking out on to a balcony, and turns.] How the devil did I come in? I'll be with you at eleven sharp.
[At door to landing.] This way, Mr. Wackerbath.
[Vaguely.] I thought I came that way. [As he goes up.] I can see already that you're the very man for me. [At door to landing.] Now I must be off, or I shall miss my train to Lipsfield. [As Horace offers to see him downstairs.] Don't trouble