Here's your health, father Filippo. (drinks)

Thank ye, Brigadier.

The same to you, Signor Bambogetti.(Bambogetti takes no notice)

How do you like the wine, Brigadier?

Can't be better—in short, it quite reconciles me to Corsica, and that's saying a good deal; for, I confess, when I was appointed Brigadier of Carbineers, and left France for Corsica, I expected to find your Island as bad as could be, and its inhabitants rather worse.

Indeed!

Yes! and took it for granted that every Corsican cut a throat before breakfast as a matter of course.

Ha! ha! ha! (aside) Will he never arrive? (aloud) But now, Brigadier, you find yourself agreeably disappointed, eh? Come, another glass.

With all my heart!—do you know, Filippo, I once fancied you were no better than you should be.

Me!—ha! ha! ha! (forces a laugh)

I heard something about an old family feud existing between your house and that of—I forget the name; and knowing that it's the fashion in Corsica to pay such old standing debts of hate sooner or later, either by a stab in the back from a stiletto, or a bullet from a carbine through the head, why I thought I'd keep my eye on you.

  On me! you needn't give yourself the trouble. Ha! ha! ha! (aside) Something must have happened to detain him.(looking out anxiously.

Why what's the matter with the man?

Nothing—nothing.

You look anxious and fidgetty. Come, there's something amiss—peahaps you're beginning to repent having selected such a sweet tempered, lively, sociable son-in-law (pointing to Bambogetti) Between you and me (aside to Filippo) I suspect the fool is jealous.

Jealous!

I'm sure of it; I've had the disorder myself—he's jealous of that young fellow, Leoni.

Leoni!

Leoni!

I told you so. Ever since his return to Corsica, three weeks ago, he follows your pretty daughter about like her shadow. Rosetta sees it—Bambogetti sees it—everybody sees it but you, and you won't see it.

Nonsense, Brigadier; Bambogetti is only a little out of humour because Rosetta is on a visit to her aunt at Bastia; but she'll be home again to-day, and then you'll see he'll be all smiles, jollity, and good humour again.

Holloa! house! landlord! waiter! chambermaid! boots!

Holloa! who have we here?

A stranger!

  And a foreigner from his appearance.

A foreigner. (aside) Should it be he at last.

Waiter!

Here, sir.

A crust of bread and cheese, and a pint of stout.

Stout, sir—we don't—

Oh, you don't, don't you—very well—a bottle of wine, then. Now don't go and make a mistake, and swear I said vinegar— wine, d'ye hear. I don't care what it is as long as it's the best that can be got.

We've wine of all prices, sir.

I don't care about the price, because I'm not going to pay you —no, no, uncle does that.

Uncle—did you say uncle? (looking intently at him)

I did, sir. Do you see any just cause or impediment in me why I should not have an uncle?

Ahem! Young man, have you got a passport?

Of course I have.

Well?

Well?

Why don't you give it me?

Worthy man, why don't you ask for it? (pulling papers out of his pocket) There it is—no it isn't—this is it—no, it isn't— now I've got it—no, I haven't—ah, now, there (giving paper) you'll find it correct. (turning to Filippo) Now, old fellow, look   sharp.

Directly, sir.(goes into the Inn, keeping his eyes on Jerry all the time)

So, sir, I find you are an Englishman.

Yes, sir, I'm a freeborn Briton, and what's rather more important, a liveryman of the City of London. I landed yesterday at—at—

Bastia.

Bastia—that's it—Bastia—then I got into a sort of omnibus —they don't call it an omnibus—

No—you mean the Vetturino.

Exactly—and after a prodigious degree of jolting and a liberal supply of dust, out I got at the entrance of your village, very sore, very thirsty, and I may add, very considerably imposed upon by the conductor. I should certainly have taken the fellow's number, only he hadn't got one.

Here's the wine, sir. (putting wine on table) I hope you enjoyed your ride?

That's a sore subject. I beg to refer you for further particulars to this gentleman. (shewing the Brigadier) One thing I can't help remarking, and that is, that the few natives of this island of the masculine gender, I have seen, are by no means handsome—(the Brigadier starts)—always excepting the military —of course I meant the common people—the riffraff—like that ill-looking individual there. (pointing to Bambogetti, who starts up and advances to Jerry, who turns round and points at Filippo) I repeat, that ill-looking individual there. (aside) He's the landlord,   and won't mind being insulted, because he can put it down in the bill.

And the women, sir?

Ah! the women are always charming! I don't wish to brag, but there was a remarkably sweet young creature sitting opposite to me in the—in the—

Vetturino.

Thank ye—a blue-eyed damsel of seventeen.

Ah! (exclaiming)

I really wish you wouldn't indulge in such exclamations, sir—you might prepare one for the explosion at least. When we arrived at this hole which you call a village, I leaped out of the—of the—

Vetturino.

Thank ye; and offered my arm to my fair fellow traveller.

Ah! (shouting)

Goodness gracious, don't.

Very polite of you, indeed; of course she took it kindly.

No, sir; she didn't take it at all, but walked off arm-in-arm with a young fellow who appeared to be waiting for her.

Ah! (shouting fiercely)

Damn it, sir.

It must have been Leoni. (aside)

Well, what followed?

I'm sure I don't know—I didn't—for I set off the other way   in search of a breakfast and a lawyer!

A lawyer!—then it is he.

I needn't tell you that a young man, and that man an Englishman and a liveryman of the city of London, doesn't tear himself away from society—especially society in St. Mary Axe—and expose himself to the perils of a sea voyage, and the inconvenience of—of a—(looking at Brigadier)

A Vetturino.

Thank ye—without a considerable object in view—and my object, gentlemen, in coming to Corsica, is to take possession of a thumping legacy (Filippo makes signs to him not to speak) bequeathed to me by my uncle. (Filippo again makes signs) What is it, my good man? (The Brigadier turns and looks at Filippo, who affects indifference) I repeat, bequeathed to me by my uncle; whom I never knew, never saw, never heard of.(Filippo repeats his signals)

But how did you hear of this good fortune?

By this letter, which I received ten days ago. (reading) “Sir!” (Filippo repeats his signals) Confound it, what is the matter?— you've been telegraphing me at intervals for the last half hour. (reading again) “Sir, I Nicolo Polo, advocate, &c. &c., require your immediate presence in Corsica, to take possession of the vast property of your respected uncle, Filippo Geronimo.”

Eh?

Ah(Filippo repeats his signals to Jerry)

Your respected uncle, Filippo Geronimo, deceased.

  My friend Filippo deceased—ha, ha, ha!

Sir, I don't see the joke; and if he was your friend, I don't think it very civil!

Oh, he won't mind it.

I don't suppose he will, poor fellow!

Wouldn't you be delighted to see him?

'Pon my soul, I should not!

Why, there he is.

Where?

Here!—come to my arms.

Pooh! pooh!

Embrace your uncle.

Wait a bit—let us understand each other. If you were my uncle, you'd be dead—if you are not dead, you're not my uncle— and if you are not my uncle you may go to the devil.

What the deuce does all this mean?

Nothing; it's a joke, Brigadier, that's all.

I thought so—of course it's a joke.

I'll explain the matter by-and-bye—in the mean time, be good enough to leave us alone.

Yes, leave us alone.

Hem! This is a very mysterious business. I see I must keep both eyes open.

There's something wrong, but I'll find it out.  Exeunt Brigadier and Bambogetti, L. C.

Now then, old fellow—

  Old fellow! Is that the way you talk of your uncle?

He sticks to that! Ahem! Innkeeper, allow me to ask by what right?

By the right of consanguinity!

That's a long word! What is it?

Blood.

You're not joking?—You're not dead?

Neither one nor the other.

Then, sir, what do you mean by such conduct? (putting his arms akimbo) And what does that other old rascal of a lawyer mean by sending me a cock and bull story like this? (shewing the letter) He won't get six-and-eightpence out of me, I can tell him.

I wrote that letter.

You!

I reported myself dead, as the surest means of getting you here.

Ah, and now I am here, I think you are bound as a gentleman not to keep me waiting long.

Waiting!—what for?

What for? Why the thumping legacy you mean to leave me when you die.

I leave you a thumping legacy! No, no, all my property goes to my daughter.

Your daughter—what daughter?

  My daughter Rosetta—the bride elect of Bambogetti?

Who's Mr. Bambogetti?

He that just went out with the Brigadier.

Oh, the tall man that's got an absurd knack of shouting out “Ah,” in one's ear. Well, uncle Filippo, upon a calm and dispassionate review of the state of affairs, I should say you've rather taken me in!

I have—and what's more, you'll bless me for it—for after all, what is my property, even if I were king of the island, compared to—

To what?

Listen! (looking round mysteriously, Jerry following his motions very attentively) It is now about three hundred years ago—

Three hundred years—suppose we sit down.

Silence! I say it is about three hundred years since one of our ancestors, a Geronimo, engaged in a lawsuit—

Which I suppose isn't ended yet. Then you've got a Court of Chancery here, eh?

Silence! I repeat—

No, don't repeat—you left one of our ancestors, a Geronimo, engaged in a lawsuit—

With the family of Leoni. During an attempt to settle the affair amicably, your ancestor killed Leoni.

Killed him—you mean he called him out and shot him.

Oh, no; he shot him without calling him out.

  Did he?—then my ancestor, peace to his ashes, was a blackguard.

Silence! immediately, the family feud was declared between the Geronimos and the Leonis, and in the next generation, a Leoni killed a Geronimo.

Serve him right—that's two. (counting with his fingers)

Shortly after, a Geronimo killed a Leoni.

Three. (counting)

Consequently, in the fourth generation—

A Leoni killed a Geronimo—four!

At length came the fifth generation.

And a Geronimo killed a Leoni—five!

No, he didn't—to his shame be it spoken, he did not—and that very Geronimo—that base unworthy member of our house, was your father.

I see—he didn't kill a Leoni, because perhaps there wasn't a Leoni to kill.

There was a Leoni—he and your father both went to sea as boys. Leoni entered the service of France, and your father—

Like a sensible fellow, stuck to the union Jack of old England —at least so I was told.

They told you true—they both were killed.

Killed!

At least, they both died.

  Oh no, my father was drowned—to be sure that's much the same thing in the end—and I, Master Geronimo, or Jerry Ominous, as I was afterwards translated, was put to the naval school of Greenwich, and afterwards bound 'prentice to a chemist and druggist in St. Mary Axe.

Exactly: it was through that channel I found you out.

Then I wish the channel had been frozen up—but, however, as you were saying, they both died, and so, I presume, did the family feud.

In Corsica, a family feud never dies!

Never dies! Indeed! Well, I thought that peculiarity was confined to donkeys and postboys.

Silence! Now comes the all-important and momentous communication —he's here!

Is he—who?

The sixth and last—

What?

Generation—

Ah!

Of the Leonis.

Oh!

Since his return to the Island, I haven't had a moment's comfort—the men scowl at me—the children point at me—my inn is deserted—and I'm a wretched Geronimo.

Well, it is awkward—yet stay, uncle, it's all right—(counting his fingers over and recollecting)   —it isn't our turn!

No!

To be sure not. Look here. (counting his fingers) Fourth generation, a Leoni killed a Geronimo—the fifth was no go— consequently, the sixth and present generation—

A Geronimo must kill a Leoni!

Must! you mean, he may if he likes?

He must!

You don't mean to tell me that you contemplate such an atrocity?

Me! of course not, or I shouldn't have sent for you!

For me!

Yes, my gallant nephew—Leoni must fall by your hands.

What a remarkably fine afternoon —I'll go and take a stroll. (going quickly)

What! do you hesitate?

No!

Then you consent?

Guess again.

You refuse?

Of course I do! What a ridiculous question! Look at me, sir, look at me, I say—I'm verging on the brink of unutterable indignation, and if you wasn't my uncle, I'd tell you what I think of you, you execrable old ruffian! I say, if you wasn't my uncle, I'd shake you into fifty bits, I would. (seizing Filippo and shaking him)

  Nephew, you're a coward!

I deny it—but I've a horror of blood, especially my own.

I must try and soothe him down. (aloud) Nephew, my dear nephew, surely you feel for the honour of your house?

Not much!

Consent to do this trifle—

Trifle! ha, ha!

And I'll leave you all my wealth when I die.

Thank ye; but I've had a specimen of your style of dying already.

You shall marry my daughter, Rosetta; she's very lovely— takes after her mother.

I should think she did of the two; but, I say, I thought you had promised her hand to—

Bambogetti—I'll manage him; besides, the worst come to the worst, you won't mind his calling you out.

Not in the least,—because I shan't go.

Is it a bargain?

Yes—I mean no—no—n—(sees Rosetta, who enters at L. C.) Ah, my beautiful fellow traveller!

My dear father!

Father.

My dear child! this is—

Oh, we're old acquaintances, aint we, sir?

To be sure; we met this morning in the—in the—(aside)   where's the Brigadier?

The Vetturino!

Thank ye; we little thought we were cousins eh?

Cousins!

To be sure—how d'ye do, cousin? Here's to our better acquaintance, cousin. (going to kiss her)

Not before marriage—(pulling him back)—She's yours—(aside to him)

Is she?

On one condition.

What is it?

You know.

Eh, I think I do. (aside) My situation is getting very dramatic.

Do you still hesitate?

Hesitate—no—I'm only doubting. (aside) Shall I? Yes— no—yes—(tosses up a halfpenny, catches it, and looks at it)—I will! (aloud)

You're a sensible fellow.

I am! (aside) And I'll prove it. Uncle has taken me in, and now I'll return the obligation. I'll marry his pretty daughter, pocket the marriage portion, and then off we'll go together.

Rosetta, this is your husband.

My husband!

Yes—it's all arranged. (crosses to her) To-morrow we go to church—the parson ties us up, and that's settled—few friends to dinner, health and happiness to the bride and bridegroom, you   blush, I get up, return thanks, and that's settled—I walk out in the cool of the evening, meet Leoni, cut him in half, and that's settled—ha, ha! what a delightful prospect.

Cut Leoni in half!—what can he mean?

Come along, nephew!—Now then to give orders for the wedding to-morrow.

Now to secure places for two in the—in the—where's the Brigadier?  Exeunt C., Jerry kissing his hand to Rosetta.

That dolt, my husband!—cut Leoni in half!—ah, I see it all —it is as I feared—the family feud is declared again—(seeing Leoni, who enters, C.) Oh, Leoni—my poor dear Leoni—but what's the matter?—you seem agitated.

No wonder—I've been insulted again, by that insolent fellow, Bambogetti—your husband elect.

He's no longer my husband elect.

No!—then I'm happy.

And I'm miserable.

Why, haven't you got rid of a man you dislike?

Yes—but I've got another I don't like a bit better in his stead.

Who?

That silly-looking young man who wanted to hand me out of the Vetturino this morning. But my situation is a trifle compared to yours. That horrible family feud has broken out afresh, and my father, either too old, or too prudent, or too much of a coward to take the quarrel up himself, has persuaded my cousin—

  Your cousin?

Yes, the silly-looking young man, to take the affair in hand— to assasinate you, Leoni, to cut you in half.

Ha, ha! I'm sure I'm very much obliged to him. But leave the matter to me, Rosetta; while you resist every effort of your father to marry you either to Bambogetti or your terrible cousin, do this for my sake, and I'll take care of myself for yours.

Rosetta, Rosetta!

My father's voice.

In, in—(Rosetta runs into house, R.) Now, then, for this formidable cousin. As I live, here he comes.

It's all right. I've secured two places in the—in the—

Ahem!

Sir,—I,—(aside) The young fellow that walked off with my cousin Rosetta.

Sir, I've a question to ask you.

It's no sort of use asking me any questions, my good young man. I'm not a native of these parts—I can't direct you.

That's the very reason I offer myself to conduct you to the person you are seeking—one Leoni.

Eh!—oh!—ah! (aside) I'll swagger a bit. (aloud) Poor devil! he caught sight of me just now, and made a bolt of it. I suppose he's heard what a desperate fellow I am.(cutting and slashing with the stick)

He stands before you!

The devil! (runs behind table) Sir,—I'm unarmed.

  So am I.

Quite sure?

On my honour.

Then dash my buttons—(Leoni moves, Jerry runs back again)

Harkye, sir! I've heard of your humane intentions towards me—but I beg to tell you I'm not the man to sit quietly at an open window, and let you—(imitates firing a gun)

And I beg to tell you, sir, I'm not the man to see you sitting quietly at an open window, and—(imitating the action)

I'm glad to hear it, and I see we shall be able to settle the point to our mutual satisfaction.

I'm delighted to hear it—give us your hand. (about to take his hand—he draws it away)

I think there is a way to settle this ancient feud between our families.

I'm sure there is—we'll consider it settled. (holding out his hand)

For, between ourselves, it's a very absurd thing.

Quite nonsensical. (holding out his hand)

My idea is—

I quite agree with you. (holding out hand)

Why you haven't heard it.

Good gracious! what does that signify as long as I agree with it?—how particular you are.

Well then, you consent—pistols?

Eh?

Perhaps you prefer swords.

  Swords!—what for?

What for!—why to fight with.

Fight—who?

Me!

You!

You!

Me!

We!

We!—you!—me!—we!—'pon my soul, sir, I don't understand.

The deuce you don't—surely you'd rather fight me face to face like a man, than strike me behind my back.

I don't know that—(Roseeta appears at the door of the house, and listens)

But I'm sure of it—therefore, if you've no objection—

But I have an objection—a decided objection.

Nonsense—you'll find me in half an hour, behind the hill on the left—I shall wait for you.

Stop—you'll wait for me till I come.

Yes.

Then you'll wait a damned long time.

I leave to you the choice of weapons—farewell—be punctual.  Exit, C.

I suppose that's what they call a nice young man! I wish I was back in St. Mary Axe.(Rosetta, who has watched Leoni out, advances and strikes Jerry on the shoulder)

Ah! (jumping round)

Hush!

It's very easy to say hush.

  My father may come and interrupt us—one word—you are going to fight Leoni.

That's not the worst of it—Leoni is going to fight me.

Don't prevaricate—I know everything—take my advice—

And run away.

No—I know that's the very last thing you would think of.

On the contrary, it was the very first thing I thought of.

Silence! You can't deceive me—you came to Corsica on purpose to declare this odious family feud, and take Leoni's life, and you're delighted that he has accepted your challenge, because you flatter yourself that you can handle a sword; but, perhaps, sir, you'll find Leoni as good as swordsman as yourself.

He must be a very bad one if he isn't.

One of you will be wounded—perhaps killed—now let's suppose it's you.

No, let's suppose it's he.

Now, mark me, I am a Corsican. (fiercely)