[Knocks down DJOE with his staff.  A combat, during which DJOE several times obtains possession of the weapon, and wounds PONSCH.  N.B.—­Note the striking resemblance here to the similar, but very inferior, Scenes in “Hamlet."

The Dutch Dolls (running about).  Both of them bleeding already!  There’s blood on the walls already!  Already blood on the walls! (&c.).

The Bedell.  The Prince has slain DJOE.  Take him into custody.

    [PONSCH strikes the Bedell down.

The B. Ha! ha! ha! (Tries to rise—­but is struck again).  Ha! ha! (PONSCH strikes once more.) Ha!

[The Bedell dies; a draught enters under the door and blows out two of the candles; a thunderbolt is heard coming down-stairs, and the Ghost of JOeDI suddenly appears from behind a tapestry representing “The Finding of Moses."

Ponsch (to Ghost).  Have you any hearse-plumes at hand?  Do not be angry with me.  Can you hear my teeth?  I am only a poor little old man.  Will you please undo my necktie? (cf.  “King Lear").  Let us go to breakfast.  Will there be muffins for breakfast?

    [Exit, leaning heavily on Ghost’s arm.

The Dutch Dolls (with conviction).  One more such night as this, and all our heads would have gone bald!

SAMPLE No.  III.—­The Courtyard with a scaffold and gibbet.  A blood-red moon is sailing amid the currant-bushes, and a shower of stars proceeds uninterruptedly.  PONSCH discovered looking through the fatal noose.

Djakketch (the Court Executioner).  Can you see anything through the loop?

Ponsch.  Not yet.  I cannot see the audience anywhere.

Djak. No; we are probably above the heads of the audience.  But can’t you distinguish Mr. WILLIAM SHAKSPEARE?

Ponsch.  Wait one moment.  No, I cannot see Mr. SHAKSPEARE anywhere.

Djak. Because he has had to take a back seat.  Look again.  Can you see nothing?

Ponsch.  I can make out an omnibus in the street.  It is green.

Djak. Ay, ay!  A Bayswater ’bus.  They are green.  But don’t you see any of the general public?

Ponsch.  I can see Mr. WILLIAM ARCHER, and some new Critics, and unconventional Dramatists.  They are following the text with books of the Play.  But there are no more errand-boys with baskets.

Djak. This is wonderful.  No more errand-boys with baskets?

Ponsch.  No more small children with babies!

Djak. No more small children?  Do pray let me look. (PONSCH retires, and DJAKKETCH puts his head through the loop.) Oh, I can see plainly now.  There is not a single spectator left.  They have all been bored to death!

Ponsch.  All bored to death?  Now then, lift your head a little, and I will fondle you. [Pulls the cord towards himself.