Silas. You don’t mean it!
Harry. And, in endeavoring to get back to the road, walked through his glass house, and broke some glass.
Silas. Goodness gracious!
Harry. Mr. Benson’s flower garden, being near the road, was hastily visited by his highness, and a few of the rare plants will flourish no more.
Silas. O, my head! Is that all?
Harry. No, for Mrs. Carter was on the road with her span. On the appearance of the great hay-eater, one of the horses dropped dead.
Silas. O, ruin, ruin! Why didn’t the elephant keep him company?
Harry. These parties have made complaint, and will sue you for damages. There are other disasters connected with the entry of your pet —
Silas. Don’t mention ’em. Don’t speak of any more. There’s enough now to ruin me. Broken fences, smashed hot-houses, ruined flower beds, and a dead horse!
Harry. Consequential damages.
Silas. Consequential humbugs! I am the victim of a conspiracy. I don’t own an elephant. I won’t own him. I never bought him. He’s escaped from a menagerie. Why should I buy an elephant?
Harry. That won’t do, Mr. Somerby. You were seen at the auction; you were heard to bid for the animal. I’m afraid you will have to suffer.
Silas. I won’t pay a cent. They may drag me to jail, torture me with cold baths and hot irons; but not a cent will I pay for the capers of that elephant.
Enter Bias Black, L
Bias. Hay! What’s dat? Am yer gwine to ’pudiate, Massa Somebody? Gwine back on de ber – ber – bullephant – am yer?
Silas. What’s the matter with you, Bias Black?
Bias. Wal, I speck a heap, Massa Somebody. Dat ar bullephant of yourn has driben dis indervideral inter bankrupturicy. Dar’s been a reg’lar smash up ob his commercial crisis, and de wabes ob affliction are rollin’ into dis yer bussom.
Silas. Now, yeou black imp, talk English, or walk Spanish, quick! What do yeou want?
Bias. Want damages, heavy damages; dat’s what I want, Massa Somebody.
Silas. Damages for what?
Bias. Wal, hold yer hush, an’ I’ll tell yer. Las’ night I was gwine along de road, see, wid my hoss and wagon chock full, an’ ole Missey Pearson sittin’ alongside ob me – picked her up in de road. Pore ole lady! Guess she won’t ax any more rides! An’ jes’ when I got by Square Jones’s door, den dar was an airthquake, by golly! Somethin’ took right hole ob de tail-board. Felt somethin’ h’ist. Knowed ’twas a shock; and de nex’ ting I knowed, I was up in a tree! Missey Pearson was h’isted onto de fence, an’ dat ar bullephant was a chasin’ dat ar hoss ober de wagon, an’ a trampin’ round an’ chawin’ up things fine, I tell yer. Golly! such a mess! Dat’s what de matter. Lost eberyting. Wouldn’t a taken sebenty-five dollars for dat ar wagon. An’ dat ole lady, guess she’s shook all to pieces.
Silas. And you expect me to pay for this!
Bias. Ob course, ob course. If old gents will sow dar wild oats wid bullephants, dey must expect to pay for de thrashin’. Sebenty-five dollars for de wagon, sixty-seben dollars and ninepence for de goods, an’ about fifty dollars for de scare to dat pore ole hoss. I’ll trow de ole lady in.
Silas. I’ll throw yeou inter the horse-pond, yeou black imp! Not a dollar will yeou get from me.
Bias. Hey! You won’t pay? Den I’ll hab de law. Yes, sir. I’ll hab a jury set onto you, an’ – , an’ – an’ – a judge, and two or three habus corpuses. You can’t fool dis chile. Dar want no muzzle on de bullephant, an’ it’s agin de law.
Silas. Well, go to law. I shan’t pay a cent.
Enter Pat Murphy, L
Pat. Where’s the kaper of the brute, I’d like to know? Where’s the hathin that sinds wild bastes a rarin’ an’ a tarin’ into the paceful quarthers of the globe?
Silas. What’s the matter with yeou, Pat Murphy?
Pat. Aha, owld gint, ’tis there ye are. It’s a mighty foine scrape yer in this time, wid yer drinkin’ an’ rollickin’.
Silas. Come, come, Pat Murphy, keep a civil tongue in your head.
Pat. O, blarney! It’s an ondacent man ye are, by me sowl! Wasn’t I sittin’ on my own doorstep last night, a smokin’ my pipe genteelly, wid de childers innercently amusin’ theirselves a throwin’ brickbats at one another, an’ Biddy a washin’ in the yard (as beautiful a picture of domestic felicity as ye don’t often say), when an oogly black snout kim over the fence, an’, afore ye could spake, away wint the fence, an’ away wint Biddy into the tub, an’ the childers into the pig-pen, an’ mesilf ilevated to the top of the woodshed by that same oogly black baste!
Harry. Ah, the elephant on another frolic!
Pat. Frolic – is it? Bedad, it must be paid for, ony how. An’ so, owld gint, I’ll jist throuble yez for the damages – to mesilf, a broken constitution, Biddy, a wake’s washin’ intirely spoiled, and the childers, bliss their dirthy faces! for a scare, an’ the fright to the pig, an’ the broken fence. Come down, owld gint. Them as jig must pay the piper.
Bias. Das a fac’, das a fac’. Down wid de dust, ole gint, for de dust dat ar bullephant kicked up.
Silas. Never! Not a cent! Get out of my house! You’re a pair of knaves. There is no elephant about here. It’s all a lie. I won’t be swindled. Get out, I say!
Pat. Knave! Look to yersilf, owld gint. It’s not dacent for the likes of yez to call names. A lie? Troth, I’ll jist bring Biddy and the childer to tistify to the truth – so I will.
Silas. Shut up! Clear out! If you want damages, you can have them. I’m getting my dander up, and shall sartinly damage both of yer.
Bias. Don’t you do it, don’t you do it. De law will fix you, old gent.