The Brass Bottle: A Farcical Fantastic Play in Four Acts

Pringle

[With a wild sardonic laugh.] Ho-ho! He's no idea who the – ah – culprit is. Have you, Professor?

    [Renewed astonishment.

Professor Futvoye

[Glaring at Pringle.] I can only surmise. My theory is that burglars must have broken in during the night, and that the scoundrels, disgusted at finding nothing of any value to them, revenged themselves by doing this irreparable damage.

Pringle

Bravo, Professor! Does you credit, that theory of yours! Most ingenious! Must have been burglars, of course! With gout in all their four legs – eh, Mrs. Futvoye?

    [Mrs. Futvoye regards him with puzzled displeasure.

Horace

[In Pringle's ear.] Will you hold your confounded tongue!

Mrs. Wackerbath

[To the Professor.] The wretches! But what a mercy that you weren't disturbed!

Pringle

Oh, the Professor wasn't disturbed – not he! "Preserved perfect calm and self-control from first to last" —didn't you, Professor?

Professor Futvoye

[Acidly.] As I was sound asleep during the whole business, sir, I presume I did.

Pringle

Ha-ha! Sound asleep, eh? But you must have had a touch of nightmare when I saw you.

Professor Futvoye

When you – ! [Rising and coming towards him.] How and when could you possibly have seen me, Pringle?

Pringle

Oh, in your study. When you were lashing out at everything – with your hind legs.

    [General sensation; Mrs. Wackerbath and Mrs. Futvoye both rise, and, with Sylvia, come somewhat nearer Pringle.

Professor Futvoye

With my hind legs!.. D'you know, my dear Pringle, you're talking rather wildly?

Pringle

It won't do, Professor, it won't do! I was there, remember. And lucky for you I was– or you'd be a wall-eyed mule at this very moment. [Exasperated by the Futvoyes' apparent astonishment.] Oh, it may suit you to forget it now– but you were all three – especially Sylvia – grateful enough to me then!

    [Increased sensation.

Mrs. Futvoye

Grateful to you? May I ask what for?

Pringle

I suppose you won't deny that I was the only one who could tackle Ventimore's old Jinnee?

Mrs. Futvoye

[In a tone of hopeless bewilderment.] Horace! Does he mean that pleasant elderly landlady of yours?

Pringle

As if you didn't know, Mrs. Futvoye! I mean the old demon, or whatever he may be, that Ventimore let out of that brass bottle.

All the Others (except Horace)

[Together.] Brass bottle! What brass bottle? What is he talking about?

Pringle

I'm talking about the bottle he bought for you at that auction yesterday, Professor. You can surely remember that?

Professor Futvoye

I certainly did ask him to attend a sale. [Approaching Horace.] But I understood you to say just now, Ventimore, that you bought nothing for me?

Horace

That is so, Professor. As I told you, I was – unlucky.

Mr. Wackerbath

[Regarding Pringle with dignified displeasure.] You seem to me, sir, to be endeavouring to be – ah – facetious.

Pringle

[Turning on him.] No more facetious, Mr. Wackerbath, than you were when I saw you this morning in Ventimore's office.

Mr. Wackerbath

I didn't go to Mr. Ventimore's office. I entirely forgot the appointment – an unusual thing for me.