X No. XXW THE M I N O R D R A M A ROBERT MACAIRE; OR, < THE TWO MURDERERS. ^ iUdo- Drama IN TWO ACTS BY CHARLES SELBY, COMEDIAN TtlTH THE STAGE BUSINESS, CAST OF CHAR ACTERS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS ETC. NEW-YORK: WILLIAM TAYLOR & CO.^ No. 18 ANN-STREET. PRICE 12*1-2 CENTS. MODERN STANDARD DRAMA. Price 12 1-2 Ce7Lts each. — Bound Volumes, $1.00. VOL. I. 1. Ion. 2. Fazio. 3. The Lady of Lyons. 4. Kicbelieu. 5. The Wife. 6. The Honey Moon. 7. The School for Scan- dal. 8. Sloney. With a Portrait and Memoir of Mrs. A. C. MO WAIT. TOL. n. 9. The Stranger. 10. Grandfather Wliite- head. 11. Richard HI. 12. Love's Sacrifice. 13. The Gamester. 14. A Cure for the Heart- ache. 15.«The Hunchback. 16. Don Cajsar DeBazan. With a Foiirait and Memoir of Mr. CHAS. KEAN. 17. The Poor Gentleman. 18. Hamlet. 19. Charles U. 20. Venice Preserved. 21. Pizarro. 22. The Love-Chase. 23. Othello. 24. I/cnd me Five Shillings With a Portrait and Memoir of Mr. W. E. BURTON. VOL. IV. 25. Virginius. 26. The King of the Com- mons. 27. London Assurance. 28. The Rent-Day. 29. Two Gentlemen of Verona. 30. The Jealous "Wife. 31. The Rivals. 32. Perfection. With a Portrait and Memoir of Mr J. H. HACKETT. VOL V. 33. A New Way to Pay Old Debts. 34. Look Before You Leap. 36. King John. 36. The Nervous Man. 37. Damon and Pythias. 38. The Clandestine Mar- riage. 39. William ToU. 40. The Day after the AVedding. With a Portrait and Memoir of G. COLMAN the Elder. VOL. w 41. Speed the Plough. 42. Romeo and Juliet. 43. Feudal Times. 44. Charles the TSvelfth. 45. The Bridal. 46. The Follies of Night. 47. The Iron Chest. 48. Faint Heart Never Won Fair Lady. With a Portrait and Memoir of Sir E. BUL- WER LYTTON. VOL. vn. 49. Road to Ruin. 50. Macbeth. 51. Temper: 52. Evadne. 53. Bertram. 64. The Duenna. 55. Much Ado About Nothing. 66. The Critic. With a Portrait and Memoir of R. B. SHERI- DAN. VOL vm. 57. The Apostate. 58. Twelfth Night. 59. Brutus. 60. Simpson & Co. 61. Merchant of Venice. 62. Old Heads and Young Hearts. 63. Mountaineera. 64. Three Weeks After Marriage. With a Portrait and Memoir of Mr. GEO. H. BARRETT. VOL IX. 65. Love. 66. As You Like it. 67. The Elder Brother. 68. Werner. 69. Gi.sippus. 70. Town and Country. 71. King Lear. 72. Blue Devils. With a Portrait and Memoir of Mrs. SHAW VOL X 73 Henry VIH 74 ilarried and Single 75 Henrv IV 76 Paul Pry 77 Guy Mannering 78 Sweetheart.? k Wives 79 The Serious Family 80 She Stoops to Conquer With a Portrait and Memoir of Miis CHAR- LOTTE GUSH MAN. VOL XI 81 Julius Caesar 82 Vicar of Wakefield 83 Leap Year 84 Tlie Catspaw 85 The Passing Ooud 86 The Drunkard 87 Rod Roy 88 George Barnwell With a Portrait and Memoir of Mrs. JOHN SEFION. VOL xn 89 Ingomar 90 Sketches in India 91 The Two Friends 92 Jane Shore 93 The Corsican Brothers 94 Mind your own Busi- ness. 95 Writing on the Wall 96 Heir at Law With a Portrait and Memoir of THOMAS S. HA MB LIN. VOL xra 97 The Soldier's Daughter 98 Douglas 99 Marco Spada 100 Nature's Nobleman 101 Sardanapalus 102 Civilization 103 The Robbers 104 Katharine & Petrucio With a Portrait and Memoir of EDWIN FOR- REST. On a remittaTice of One Dollar, free of postage, Ten copies of anv of the Plays will be sent by mail. WM. TAYLOR iSr CO., 18 Ann-Street. THE MINOR DRAMA. No. XXIV. ROBERT MACAIRE: OR, THE TWO MURDERERS. .a illelo-Elrama IN TWO ACTS. BY CHARLES SELBY, Comedian. AI^O THE STAGE BUSINESS, CASTS OF CHARA0TEE5 COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS. ETC ^' E W-YORK : WILLIAM TAYLOR k CO., No. 18 ANN-STREET. )> KDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. Robert Macaire is one of Mr. Charles Selby's most sdc- ccs;^ful translations. Its adaptation to the English stage is efTec- tive and highly dramatic. Few melo-draraas have been more fre(iuently performed, or gained more public favour. The au- thor himself, a gentlemanly and accomplished actor, is entirely conversant with " stage business," " situations," and " effects," and has used his knowledge to the best advantage. Frederick Lemaitre, the great French actor, was the first, and, with the exception of J. Brown, perhaps, we may say only finished representative of the dashing, impudent, but still gen- tlemanly thief. Lemaitre was seconded by Vizantini as his nervous companion, in a manner that has never been equalled. Upon Lemaitre's first appearance at the back of tbe stage, he looked like an extraordinarily well-dressed man, each garment fitting him admirably, and it was not till he approached the fc)r)t- lights that the audience discovered the coat and pantaloons to be one mass of patches, but these were so neatly inserted that the character of the once dashing Chevalier d' Industrie was mani- fested by the attention to appearance he preserved amid all vi- cissitudes. Vizantini's costume was neat and clean, though much more dilapidated than his imperative companion. The way these parts are dressed and acted at' most of our theatres is an insult to the audience, and an outrage on the common sense of the author. Would such unmitigated ruffians as the would- be Roberts, and disgusting bundles of rags and filth as the con- temptible Jacques Strops, be allowed to share in the festivities given on the occasion of the betrothal of persons of affluence and respectability ? The thing is preposterous, and ought to be scouted from the stage. The first artists who avoid these fool- eries will be as much entitled to the approbation of thinking peo- ple, as he who relieved the grave-digger from the long endured and senseless buffoonery of taking otT a score ,f waistcoats. CAST OF CHARACTERfi. Covent Garden, 1S43. Ohtt^ Phil, 1847. Oermtvil, (a wealthy farmer) Mr.Tilbury. Mr. Charlee. Ihimont (o7» Innheep^ er) " Griffith. " Wat«oa. Robert Miieaire, {un- der tke assumed name of Redmojid) " H, Wallack. " J. Browne. Jacquea Strop (under the asmimcd name of Bertrand) ' Vale. " Burton. Charles, (ike adopted son of Dumont) " F.Webster. " Roberta. Pi/:rre, (head tcaiter) " Rogers. *• Owens. Sergeant Loupy " Harris. " Howard Louis " Bannister. " Colvin. Francois '• Collett. " Oakey. Marie Mrs. W. West. Mrs. KnighL CUiKentine Miss Cross. Miss Colliglian. Gendarmes, Itinerant Muticiant, ifC. Botetry, ISfu Mr. Forert. *< Burgeaa. " Stereni. " H. Chap I •' Bower*. " Philips. •' Dawes. " Melville. Miss Kirby. Mrs. Forest. COSTUMES. ROBERT MACAIRE.— Patched preen modern body with very long tails, short shabby, red tro-Asers, (iirty white gaiters, old shoes, striped waistcoat, ragged jihjrt, very lan?c silk pocket handkerchief, shabby white hat with black crape round it. Old dressing gown for second dress. JACQUES STROP.— Patched drab coat, dark waistcoat, striped trowsers, oid Wellington hoots, sliabby black hat. Short white bed gown with frills, and cIoM wl-.itc night-cap for second dress. DUMOXT. — Modern black coat, black brcechcii, white waistcoat, white cotton stockings. GERMEUIL. — Dove coloured old man's suit, flowered waistcoat, white stockioj^, drab beaver hat. PffiRRE. — French blue smock frock, tricoloured belt, white trowsers, blue night- cap. WAITERS & PEASANTS.— Coats and breeches. LOUPY &. GENDARMES.— Blue uniforms faced with white, cross belts, swords, caruines, and cocked hats— all exactly alike. MARIE.— Blue linsey-woolsey petticoat, large French apron of small check, brown cotton jacket with long sleeves, red cotton handkerchief over the jacket, whita Norniau cap, covered with a dark blue and white cotton handkerchief, dark blue worsted stockings, thick shoes. CLE.MENTINE.— White mnslin dress, and hat. EXITS AND KNTRANCES. R. means Right; L. Lefi: R. D. Ri^kt Door; L. D. Left Door; 8. E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper EntruTice; M. D. Middle Door. RELATIVE POSITIONS. R.. means Rishl ; L., Left, C, Centre; P. C. Right of Centre, L. C, Left, of CriiLtf. ROBERT MAC AIRE. ACT I. Scene I. — The Exterior of an Auherge — a wall, or rail- ing, with gates in the centre, across the stage — over the gates a Sign Board, on which is painted, •* Auberge des Adrets," — on the s. and l. 3d e., the House, with a hush over the door, and a hoard, on loliich is painted, " Ici on vend la Bonne Bierre et I'Eau de Vie." " Bon Logement, a Pied et a Cheval." On the l. e. f. a door leading to a cellar — a table and henches under a tree, R. u. e. — a plank on tuo boards, r. e. f. The high road is seen in the back ground, the whole extent of stage, winding over a bridge, platforms, Sfc. Curtain ri^es to lively music. Louis and W.* iters discovered arranging the table, Sfc. — Louis has a basket with some bottles of wine — he takes the cork from one of them, and is drinking, as Pierre enters from the house. Pierre. Holloa ! holloa ! what are you about there ? Louis. [In confusion, hiding the bottle.] Nothing. Pierre. Nothing ! Do you think I did not see you ? Louis. Well, if you did, I'm sure I — Pierre. [Blustering.] Come, come, sir, hold your tonguo — don't try to excommunicate yourself; didn't I see you take this bottle out of the basket in this way 1 [Taking it out.] Didn't you pull out the cork in this way — and then didn't you put it to your mouth in this way ; [Taking a long draught.] I'm ashamed of you : see, [Ttirning down ihe bottle,] you've emptied it^ oh, you thief! I'll tell mas'* t»r ro ^Lf^D ii out of yotir wages. Now. «-way \yii;'-> ^"-^ ir '.. ' 1:1 h -r.J.se, and «;t-t every thir-,r> raaJy belbro I^Tr, «%.;,? . mt.i\\ afil bis daughter arrive; don't stand gaping at rne 6 ROBERT MACAIRE. [Ad 1 with your mouth open, and your hands in youi pockets, but go. [Exeunt Waiters into //o?ise.] Idle rnscals ! [S't- ting on the rahle, n., and eating an app-e, loliich he pahs out jyom a plateju% whidi has he en placed there hy the Waiters?^ They think of nothing but eating and djinking. \Taking a cake from another plate] Always stealing tilings that don't belong to ihem, and feasting at master's ex- es ' o pense. Enter Dumont and Charles from the house. Pierre ju7nj)S lip from, the table, pvts the rake and apple into his pocket, and pretends to he very busy, arranging the cloth, dishes y h^'c. JDtimont. Well, Pierre, how go on our preparations for the wedding fete % I see you are all in a bustle. Pierre. Yes, sir, I'm obliged to do every thing myself — can't trust Louis and the other waiters ; I'm here, there, and every where, in a dozen places at once. Dumont. That's right — see that nothing is wanting fur the entertainment of our friends — I wish every one to be as happy as eating, drinking, and dancirig can maki? them. Charles. You are very kind, sir Pierre. Why, Mr. Charles, what's the matter? one wouldn't think you were going to be married, you look so sorrcrwful and so melancholy. Charles. Oh, no, you are mistaken, I am quite merry, [ Sigh ing. Pierre, Are you ? Well, you've a very odd way of showing your mirth. Now. master, doesn't Mr. Charlrf look very unhappy 1 Dumont. He does ; but I attribute his seriousness t the importance of the engagement he is about to contract Pierre. Ah, true — matrimony is a very serious thing and requires a deal of consideration — a man ought to bo sure of what he is about — for my part, I thijik — Dumont. You are gossipping here when you ought to be attending to your work. Pierre. You are right — I've a great deal to do — I musn't idle my time hearing you tell 1' ng stories — I'll go . r^ 1 1^,.. .,^ ,^.^ wnil-vr. Fl're, L ).!,- ! T .u^. -. ! T. . . cuis ! I'm running, you rsacals. [Exit info house. 6cK!»K I.] ROBERT MACAIRE. 7 Duynont. Vou see, Charles, I am not the onlj one \%ho has perceived your melancholy. Clementine will soon be here ; you mustn't let her see you look so niiserabje on this joyful occasion. Charles. Ah, sir, when Mr. Germeuil knows the fatal secret you have revealed to me, will he then consent to my marriage with his daughter ? Dumont. Hope for the best ; he is too good and kind a man to be the slave of prejudice ; he will never find a better son-in-law ; and I am sure is too anxious for the happiness of his daughter, lo be an obstacle to your union. Charles. Oh, that 1 could think so. [Noise of a carriage without, r. Dumont. Hark ! Germeuil and Clementine have arri- ved. Hollo ! Pierre ! Louis ! Francois ! quick, quick ! Pierre, Louis, and Waiters enter from house, gooff, r,, through gates, and return with bundles, hand-boxes, Sfc. Charles. A few moments will decide my fate. Enter Germeuil and Clementine, k. — Germeuil advan- ces to the front — shakes haiids with Dumont — Charles goes up to Clementine, who remains with him at the back, "Pierre runs about, loaded with bundles and band-boxes, which he lets fall, i^c. Ger. Welcome, old friend — you didn't expect me so Boon, I dare say — but, you know, I'm an impatient old fool — 1 like to settle things off-hand. Clementine, my love, when you have finished the disembark ment of your band-boxes, perhaps you Will notice your future father-in- law. Cle. With pleasure. How do you do, sir 1 [^Shaking hands with Dumont. Ger. What are you about there, Mr. Charles — are you waiting for permission to kiss your wife ? CiKirles. '{Coming down, \..\ Mr. Germeuil, the title of Clementine's husband is the most preci■. ?u^..s oi i'^.\ ouc iiare pic>i';.ui.^. .. ..,, . alt^nd to vou fur .son.'e tifLcJ. 20 ROBERT xMACAIfE. [ACT f. [Going to cellar door, and putting a Icty into the lock Red. [To Bertrand.] Engage him in conversation for a minute or two. Ber. 1 will. I say, Mr. Waiter, what are you doing there ? Pierre. Eh? [Turning round.] Why, I'm going into the cellar to fill this basket with wine for the guests. Ber. Fill that basket with wine — won't it run out ? Pierre. [Aside.] Ha, ha, ha! this fellow is silly — I'll have a game with him. — Oh, no, it won't — don't you see, [Showing the basket,] the bottom is water-proof? [As he turns to show the basket to Bertrand, Redmond takes the key out of the door. Ber. Ah, dear me — so it is — how wonderful ! Pierre. [Aside.] Ha, ha, ha ! he's the softest chap I ever met with — I'll make him believe the moon is made of gieen cheese presently. [Going to door.] Hollo, the key is gone ! Who the devil has taken it 1 Red. What's the matter, young man ? Pierre. I've lost a key. Red. Indeed ! has any body stolen it? Pierre. Stolen it 1 nonsense — there are no thieves here. Ber. [Aside.] Am't there, though 1 Red. [Kicking him.] Be quiet, you fool. — I should hope not, young man — for I make it a rule never to stop in any place where a robbery has been committed ; and if you think you have thieves about the premises I shall go. Ber. So shall I. Pierre. Oh, no, sir, don't be alarmed, I shall find the key presently — I havn't time to look for it now, so I'll get the duplicate, which I have on a bunch in- doors. We are all honest people here, sir. [Exit into house. Red. All's right — we shall get it — ^he has gone for the bunch. Ber. Don't forget No. 13. Red. Hush, he is here !— don't seem to notice him. Sing. Enter Pierre — Redmond and Bertrand sing together a verse of a popular song in Burlesque Opera style, ^' ^ - V^-•«»Tr^ I WU^y «rrtritlf«Tn*»n von «inor % Scene I] ROBERT MACAIRE. 21 Red. Why, yes, we do sing a little — they knew -is at the opera. Ber. [Aside.] I believe they do— in the pickpocket line. Pierre. [Looking on the hunch.] Key of cellar — this is it — [Taking- it off, and leaving bunch on chair, l.] Now for it. [Opening door of the cellar, and going in. Redmond takes tip the hunch and searches for the key — Bertrand as- sists him. Red. No. 10, 11, 12, 13. Ber. That's it — take it off. Red. Confound it — I can't. [Trying to get it off. Pierre. [ Within.] I've got the wine. Ber. Make haste — make haste — oh, my poor nerves. Red. I have it. [Taking off key and putting it in his pocKct as Pierre enters loith wine. He tun^s to lock cellar door. Pierre. I wonder what became of that key ? Ber. I know — I found it down by the door, when you went in — there it is. [Giving it. Pierre. Now, that's very odd — I looked so carefully for it; I'm very much obliged to you. [Going towards house. Red. Oh, you are very welcome. Havn't you forgot something, young man ? Pierre. Not that I know of. Red. [Pointing to chair.] Isn't that your bunch of keys 1 Pierre. [Going to the chair, and taking hunch.] Oh, what a fool I am — I don't know what I'm about — I shall lose my head some day. [As he turns to enter house, Red- mond takes a fill hottle out of his hasket, and puts in an empty one] Thank you, sir — I'm very much obliged to you. [Exit into house. Red. Ha, ha, ha ! well done us — I declare I never did any thing better since I have been in the profession. Now, then, we must wait patiently till every body in the house is asleep — enter the room — take the pocket-book, and make our escape. Dujnont. [ Within.] Come along, friends. Now, then, for the dance. Red. Hark, they are coming here ! — let us mix with the villagers and join in the dance — 'twill prevent suspi- cion 22 UOBKRr MACAlliF. [Act I. Ente- DuMONT, Germeuil, Charles, Cle.miwtine, Pierre, Louis, Waiters, and Yihi.AiiT.v.s, from House. Decasse, Pettitoe, and Gros Jean, tvith their Jnstni- inents, enter through gates. Dumont. Now, then, my lads and lasses, take your part ners and foot it merrily. [Pierre jyJaces the Musicians on the bench. — The Lea- der rosi?is his how, taps to begin, Sfc. Bertravd j^eats himself in \,. corner, with a bottle and glass. A Pas Seul, or Pas de Deux — then a Quadrille is formed. Redmond, asks a Lady (the frincipal dan- cer) to dance loith him — she refuses, not liking his appearance — 7ie takes out his snvff-hox, Jlourishes his handkerchief, and at last persuades her to be his partner. He leads his Lady forward, boxes with great ceremony to every one, takes his place in the front, and dances in burlesque imitation of the Ojye- ra style. A Quadrille of sixteen, in two lines, by all the Characters and the Corps de Ballet. Figure. Both sides meet in the centre, and return to places. Ladies hands cross. Gentlemen join hands with their partners ; all balancez. Turn p>ortners to places. The whole of the Pastorelle figure as in the first set ; cA ornate couple advancing on each side ; promenade all r*N,nd. [ When the dance is over, Ptcdmond leads his Lady to a seat — offers her refreshment, &fc. Ber. There he is, all in his glor}\ Oh, Lord, who'd take him for a thief! Red. Well, comrade, how do you get on] — why don't you dance ? Ber. 1 can't dance — I an't in spirits — I an't such a bold chap as you — I'm afraid they'll know me. R,ed. Pshaw ! make yourself agreeable, as I do — 11! get you a partner. Ber. No, no! Red. But I say yes, yes — you shall dance. [ To a La- dy, the principal dancer, who is passing at the 7rw7ntnt.\ SoswE L] ROEFRT MAC AIRE. 23 Mailemoiselle, this gentleman, mv noble and lUi'strioua friend, is desirous of dancing the next dance with you. [ The Lady hoios — Redmond pushes Bertrand far ward — he pj'ers his arm, and leads her to the front. Ber. [Aside to Red.] I won't — oh, my poor nei^es ! [To Lad)/.] Upon ray life, you are very handsome. [A^ide.] If the gendarmes were to see me now ! [^'1 Gallopade four sides, as in a Quadrille, hy the Characters and Ballet Figure. All chassez croisez — ladies to tht centre. Das a dos. Top couples lead through to opposite sides. Side couples, ditto. Top couples lead hack to places. Side couples, ditto. Right and left all round. Follow Bertrand wherever he leads. [Be.rtra7id dances grotesquely — Redmond stands near the Leader and directs the Dancf.rs, calling out the figure, h^c. Towards the conclusion he seizes the Violin and leads the Orchestra, dancing and play' ing with extravagant action until the fall of the Cur' tain. END OF ACT I. ACT II. Scene I. — The Interior of an Auherge. A Raised Gah lery from t. e. to r. s. e., with two Chambers on it, Nos. 12 and 13 — a Staircase leading to the Gallery, r. s. E. In c. ofF., a large high practicahle Window, with Shutters to fasten inside, and a Door, l,, supposed to he the Principal Entrance to the House. The hack- ground remains as in Act I. A Door on each side. — N. B. — The Window- Shutters are closed at the com- mencement of the Act. — A large Tahle, l. s. e., covered with a white cloth. — A Tahle under the Gallery for the Gendarmes to place their Swards and Carbines upon. $4 IIOBERT MACAIKF,. [Act fl, Music. — Bertkanu roiriC3 cut of No. 13 in great alarm — ^cels hi:i way domn fJie Staircase, and leans against the Balustrade. Redmond, with a quantity of Bank Notes in his hand, rushes out of the Room, closes the Door, and descends. Ber. Oh, my poor nerves ! What have you done! I haven't a drop of" blood in my veins ! lied. 'Twas unfortunate. Necessity has no law. He would have alarmed the house. [Counting notes. Ber. Come, come — let us make our escape. Dayhght will soon appear, and we shall be discovered. We've got the money : come, come, let us be off. Red. You fool ! our flight would cause us to be sus- pected. We must remain. Ber. Remain ! oh, my poor nei-A^es ! what will become of me ? You must be out of your senses. Hark! [S?iud- deri?ig.\ I hear something moving — some one walking ! Come, come, let us be off. [ Trying to force Redmond away. Red. What the deuce are you afraid of? Come into our chamber, and we'll divide the money. If you don't leani to be more of a man, I'll cut your acquaintance, or your throat, one of these days. [Pulling him off through door, r. f. Marie ojicns the. door,^ No. 12 — appears i?i the gallery, and cautiously descends the staircase. The daylight begins gradually to he seen through a hole at the top of the shutters. Marie. No one is up yet. The moment is favourable ; I will quit the inn before Mr. Germeuil awakes. He W4II, no doubt, seek to renew his examination, and I have not fortitude to bear it. Rather than cover myself with shame, by exposing- my wrongs and my dis.grace, I will quit the house. If i could get out without noise — [She tries to open the door — -finds it is loched. Enter PiERKC, with, a lighted candle, from a chamher m the gallery. Pierre. It's scarcely daylight. I think I'm up early this morning after our jollification. [He looks over the ba- lustrades and sees Marie.\ Hollo! what's that over there? ScEWE I.] ROBERT MACAIRi:. 26 Oh ! 'tis the woman we gave shelter to yesterday. What the devil is she about 1 [Quietly descends, Marie. Unfortunate ! I cannot open the door. ^ Pierre. Why do you want to open it 1 Marie. [Starti'ng.] Ah ! Pierre. Where do you wish to go so early ? I thought you promised Mr. Gcrmeuil you would not go away with- out speaking to him- Marie. 'Tis true. I had no intention of going away. 1 merely washed to — to — [Co7ifused,] — to — to— -take the air. The chamber where I slept was so small, I could scarcely breathe. Pierre. Indeed ! now do you know I think it is as airy and comfortable a room as any in the house. But be that as it may, we don't open our doors until master and all the family are stining. Marie. I beg pardon — Pierre. [Aside.] I don't half like this. — I think yon might have waited until you were called. For my part, I think master is too good-natured — he gives an asylum to eveiy body, and often takes in idle people who ought to work for their living, instead of depending on chanty. Marie. [Weeping.] Another humiliation ! [She takes out her pocket-handkerchief to wipie away her tears, and lets Jail the purse given her by Germeuil. Pierre. ->[ Taking it up.] Hollo ! what's this 1 a purse containing gold ! Marie. 'Tis mine ! give it me ! Pierre. Ha ! ha ! it seems, then, you are not so poor and miserable as you appear to be. [Rctvrning her the f)urse.] You are a deep one. [He blows out the candle, then goes up and opens the shutters and the iimidow. Marie sits at a table, L.J What a beautiful morning! T say, if you want a mouthful of air, put your head out of the win- dow — [Blowing.] — capital fcir the lungs ! [A large bell is heard ringing without.] Hollo! who is that ringing our gate bell so early? [Bell rings again.] Don't be in a hur- ry — I'm coming ! [Opeiis door and exit,L. Redmond and Bertrand enter from their room, k. — Bcr- trand has a short white bed-gown, a?/d Redmond an old dressing gown, very large pattern, and a handkerchief 26 r^o^>c:?^T ^iacajt. ; ACT n tied around his head, (he ends hanging down on tht side. Ber. Where does that noise come from ? Oh, my poor nerves ! Have they found it out ah-eady 1 Red. No, no, you reward! [Seeing Marie.\ Eh! isn't that the woman we saw last night ? Ber. Yes. Red. I must see her face again and clear up ray suspi- cions. [Advancing towards her on tip-toe — Bertrand seats himself on the stairs. Marie. Fatal is the impression poverty inspires — tho unfortunate is always suspected- of being guilty of crimes. Red. [Leaning on the back of her chair, and making his snuff-box crack.] You seem unhappy, my good woman ; what is the cause of your grief? Come, come — don't fear to trust me, for sometimes, when we least suspect it, we may find ourselves in society and in places where we are known. Marie. Oh, heaven ! do you know me ? Red. I didn't say that ; nevertheless, at first, the sound of your voice, the contour of your figure and features, re- called to me a certain person ] Were you ever at Greno- ble ? Marie. [Agitated.] Grenoble ! Red. Yes. I lived there some time — did not yo2i also reside there ? Marie. I! Red. Yes — near tlie ■prison. Marie. [Aside.] Ah ! I am known. It is true, that— Red. It is true that it is true, eh ? Ber. [Aside] What does he mean by all these ques tions 1 What is it to him where the woman has lived ? Red. Did you know, about eighteen or nineteen years ago, a person called Robert Macaire \ Marie. Gracious powers ! what name have you pro- nounced ? Red. That of your husband — your — Marie. Silence, sir ! repeat not the name of a monster who has embittered my days, and brougl-it me to shame- to misery, and ruin. [Redmond bursts into a laugh, takea a pinch of snuff, and crosses to Bertrand. — Marie ascend* tht staircase, and enters her room. ^ ,.{. i } nOBERl MACAIRE. 27 Ked. [To Bertrand.\ 'Tis she ! Ber. What she] Red. My wife ! Ber. Your wife ! does she recollect you 1 Red. No. Ber, Glad of it — let us be off. Red. Stay — we'll have our breakfast first. Ber. Breakfast ! I can't eat. You don't consider my ner\'es. Red. Pshaw ! never mind your neiTes. Take my dressing-gown, and give me my coat. [ Takmg off dress- ing-gown, and ai^pearing in a very ragged sldrt?^ Hollo ! [hooking at his sleeves.] I've got on one of my summer j-hirts — give it me again. [Bertrand assists him on with his drcssijig-goivn.] Now, call the waiter. Ber. But, 1 say — Jied. Call the waiter ! Ber. Oh, my poor — we shall get into another scrape. Waiter ! waiter ! waiter ! Red. [Taking the stage.\ Waiter! waiter! hollo! hol- lo I Ber. [Imitating.] Waiter 1 waiter ! hollo ! hollo ! Enter Pierre, d. f. Pierre. Here I am, gentlemen. You are up early- have you passed a bad niofht? Exd. Ob, dear, >io — quite the reverse, I assure you. [Singing, taking S7iujf, and fiourisldng his pocJcet' handkerchief. Ber. Quite the reverse — quite the reverse, I assure you. [Imitating with torn liandkerchicf. Pierre. I have made you wait a little, gentlemen, be- cause I was engaged putting up the horses of some guests who have just anived — three gendarmes. Ber. [Starting.] Gendarmes. Oh, my poor nerves ! Pierre. Holio ! yoiir friend seems frightened. Red. [Kicking Bertrand.] Fnghtenod ! Oh, no. [Tak- ing Pierre aside.] The fict is, he is a httle touched here in the upper story, and I frighten him with the name of gendarme as they do cliildren witli that oi Bogie. Pierre. Poor fellow] 1 thought ba was foohsh. Red. You musnrt mhul wliut he says. Biing us our breakfast, voung man. 2S KCBKET MACA1KF-. [AcY II Ficrrc. Immediately. [Exit, L. F. Bcr. [Aside] Now I shall be murdered ! Red. [Seizing Bert rand hy the collar, and dragging Jam forward.] You infernal rascal ! You cowardly villain, do you want to ruin us ? Ber. No, I don't, but — Red. Be quiet, or I'll rcurder you. [He forces him into the room^ r. — jSIusic. Enter Loupy, Baton, and Flonflon, d. f., and^ Pierre L. F., ^'ith 2^lates, ^'C, which he 2jlaccs on the table. Pierre. Well,, sergeant, vour horses are safe in the sta- ble. Loupy. Yes, and eating their breakfast. Now, it's our turn. Plen-e, bring us some ham and eggs, and the best wine in the house. Redmond a/id Bertrand, u-ith their coats on, enter from, their roojn, and swagger down to the front. Pierre. Immediately. Have the kindness to sit down here, [Pointing to table, l.] You can breakfast with these gentlemen. [Pointing to Red?nond and Bcrtrand. Ber. [Aside.] Breakfast with three gendarmes ! Oh, my poor neiTes ! Red. [Affecting the fashio)iahIe.] We shall feel honour- ed ! Lovpy. [Exainining Redmond and Bcrtrand.] I have seen these persons somewhere. Pierre ! [Taking him aside. Bcr. How he examines us ! Oh, \n.y poor neiTes ! Lonpy. Oh. I recollect — I saw them yesterday on tho ruad. Pierre. They are very respectable gentlemen. I think they belong to the opera. They are such fine S3!:!gers — the tall one in particular. [Redmond sings a verse of an Italian song, in iinita- tion t. — [Aside.] Oh, these devils of gendarmes ! Red. [Aside — jmshing him into a seat.] You fool, sit down. Ber. Oh, my ])oor nen'es ! [Sits down, c. — The two Gendarmes seat themselves on c^ch side of him — he starts — looks from one to the other, trembles, S^x. Redmond makes his snuff- box crack. Red. You must not mind my friend, gentlemen — ^1)0 stands too much upon ceremony. Come, Mr. Pierre, you must di'ink with us. Pierre. Thank you, sir — I never dnnk in the morning, but to oblige you I'iltake a thimble-full. [Fills a large glass and drinks.] I don't care if I take a small taste of bread and ham. [Cuts a large piece of bread, takes a slice of ham, and. eats roraclously.] It is some time since I have 6oen you, Mr, Loupy. 30 ROBERT MACAir.K. [ iCT II Loiipij. Why, yes, the country is so quiet ; and if it had not been for two rascally thieves, who have escaped from prison — \ Bertrand fj^.arts and h*'.gins to cough violent- hj — the two Gendarmes think he is choaking, and clap him on the back. He endeavours to rise — theij force him down — he struggles to get away, dreadfully alarmed. Bcr. Oh, my poor nerves! thank you — thank you, gen- tlemen. A piece of ham went the wrong way — lied. From what prison have the rascals escaped? Ber. [Aside.] Oh, lord ! Curse his impudence ! Loupy. The prison of Lyons ! Ber. We are dished ! [Slips doitm under the tahle. houpy. [After a pause.] Hollo! vrhere is your fiiend ? Red. Bertiand I 13ertrand ! [Finding he does not appear or answer, he viakes his snnff-hox crack — Bcrtrand shows himself under the tahle.] What the devil are you doing there ? Ber. I'm looking foi* my tooth-pick. Red. Come rmt ! [Pulling him from under the tahle, and tl trowing him into r. corner. Ber. Oh, my poor nerves ! I couldn't stand it. Red. And what has become of the rascals ? Lioupy. 'Tis suspected they have taken refuge some- wliere in this neighbourhood. [Rising and. going forivard.] I wish I could put my hands on them — [Placing his hand on the shoulders of Redmond and Bcrtrand,] — the rascals would find it rather difficult to shake me off. Red. [Forcing a laugh.] I should thin'k so. Ha ! ha ! ha! Ber. Oh, my poor neiTes ! [Trying to laugh.] Ha ! ha ! ha! Loupy. Come, gentlemen, we must be going. Red. Nay, gentlemen, don't go yet. I really cannot part with you so soon. Ber. [Aside.] Curse his impudence ! He'll persuade them to stay. Oh, you fool ! Oh, my poor neiTes ! Loupy. You are very polite, but 1 must attend to my duty. Pierre, what have I to piy ' Pici^re. Three francs and a half ■ Loupy. [Tdhing out a purse and giving him money.] There! [To Redmond.] 8ir, your most obedienf. [R^tarns purse into his co-rtt por.lrf — Rrdmond steaU it. ScEWE r.] IROBEKT macaire. 31 Red. Well, if you must go, I suppose you must. Pierre, some wine ! one glass at parting. [Pierre Jills glasses. — Lou])]/, Redmond, Bertrand, Pierre, and Gendarmes sh^nd togctJier^ and hoh and noh — Pierre and Gendarmes go off, Redmond shakes hands with Loupy, and bows him off in great cere' TTiony, Ber, \ After watching ih€7n off.] Tol lol de rol 161. [Dan- 'Ting.] They are off! Tol lol de rol lol! Red., Bertrand, what dc^you think of me, now? Didn't I deceive the gendarmes Aamously ! They are fine jolly felloVs, capital companions, are they not ? Ber. Capital — but I'd rather have their room than their company. Red. I'll tell you what, my good friend, it's no use dis- guising one's opinion — the fact is, you are a down-right fool. You have several times been on the veiy point of betraying us. Now, understand me — if you don't alter your conduct, I'll do myself the pleasure of cutting your throat. Ber. Will you 1 I won't give you a chance. Red. Now, then, let us return to our chamber. Call PieiTe, and pay the bill. Ber. Pay the bill! Noi/sense, my dear fellow! We have no occasion to do that — we never pay. Red. Why, you unprincipled rascal! would you go away without paying your bill 1 Ber. Why not? Red. A pretty n*ime we should leave behind us. They'd call us swindlers. Pie'iTe, bring our bill. Pierre. Immediately, sir. Red. And don't forget the bread and cheese. Ber. Yes, and don't forget the ingun. [Redmond pushes hhyi into the room, l. — Music, Enter Villagers, o., with Pierre. Pierre. You've come rather early, friends ; but I dare say, the bride and bridegi'oom are ready to go with you to church. Enter Charles, Clementine, and Dumont, l. — Mar« coTTM^ out of her room, and mufiov-sly descsnd^ *kt stair 3S KOBliRT MACAinn. |-A,C7 fl. Chas. We only wait for IMr. Germeuil's friends — wa arc quite ready. Dumonf. He sleeps rather late this m. ming. We'll give liim a few ininutes longer, and then, if he doesn't make his a})pearance, we'll wake him. Chas. It must he nearly eight o'clock. I wonder he is not up. Marie. No one observes me. Now to escape. [She steals round at the had:, and is about to exit at the. doer, iv^ien she is met hij Loupij and the Goi- danncs, who look inquisitively at her as she .passe* — she goes ojf over the bridge. Chas. Ah, Sergeant Loupy, I am glad to see you. What brings you so far from head quarters % Ijou'py. I am in pursuit of two thieves, who have es- caped from the prison at Lyons. I breakfasted here this moiTiing, and have returned for my purse, which I must have dropped somewhere. IMerie, have you seen it ? 'Pierre. No ; I saw it in your Irand when you paid me, but not since. Ijoupy. Help me to look for it — 1 dare s-ny it's not far oft. [ They search. Dumont. Charles, you had better go up to Mr. Ger- meuil. [Charles ascends the staircase.] Perhaps he is ill. *Tis very odd! I th(fias. Oh, horrible crime ! Mr. Germeuil is covered with wounds, and weltcvinji in his blood. SCCTTE I.] R03F.V.T MACATRE. 33 [The Villagers ^0 up the staircase, and cnUr the room — Clementine wishes to follow, hut is j^rcventcd hy two women, in whose arms she faints and is taken ' off, L. Loujrij. Dreadful! had he any enemies '? Dumoiit. None, I am certain — he lived but to do good. Chas. No doubt he has been the victim of villains, who have robbed him. Here is his empty pocket-book, which I found on the ground beside him. Loupij. Do you suspect any one ? Dumo7it. No. Fierre. But I do. I suspect the person to whom you gave shelter last night. Loujiy. What, a poor looking woman, in a dark dress ? Picrrt. Yes, Lioup.-;. I saw her go out, just now. Pierre. Let her Ke pursued ! [Loupt/ signs to one of the Gendarmes, who exits, in p?irsuit, oi-er the bridge.] I saw lier trying to leave the house early this morning. I saw a purse of gold in her possession. Dfunont. Indeed 1 there certainly is cause, then, foi suspicion. Loupy. It is my duty to investigate the business. Place yourself there — [ Tb Ge?f,dar?ne,] — and take down the evi- dence. — [ To Pierre.] Was this woman the only stranger who passed the night here 1 Pierre. No, sir ; there were two more travellers — those gentlemen with whom you breakfasted. Laupy. Let them be called. Pierre. Yes, sir. [Crossing to c. — Bawling and knock- ing.] Hollo ! hollo ; gentlemen, you are wanted. Red. [ Within.] What's the matter 1 Who knocks at my door in such a furious manner ? Redmoxd enters loith Bertrand. Ah, Mr. Pierre ! Pierre. The officer of the gendaiines wishes to speak with you. Ber. [Aside.] We are discovered ! It is all over with , us. Wo are dead and buried! Oh, my poor nerves ! Red. Oh, my esteemed friend and breakfast companion — what is the matter ? 34 ROBERT MACAIRE. [Act II. Loupy. A murder lias been committed in the house. Bcr. [Aside] Oh, my poor neiTes ! We are settled. Red. [Pretending to start with astonishment, hits Bcr- trand in the face icith his hat. — Aside.] Be quiet. — Who is the unfortunate victim 1 Dumont. Mr. Germeuil. Red. I recollect him well. [ To Bcrtrand.] The old gen- tleman we saw here Iftst night, with cotton stockings, pep- pei- and salt coat, and parsley and butter waistcoat. Jjoupy. Your passports — Red. Certainly — there is mine. [Giving a paper.] No, I be.^ pardon — that is a letter from a little countess — a lovely creature ! That is it — no, that's my tailor's bill — that is it. Loupy. [Examining passports.] You are called — Red. [Bowing.] Yes. houpy. Your name is — Red. [Bowing.] Yoa are right, it is — - Loupy. I ask your name. Red. Henri Frederick Louis de Tour de Main, de la Chateau Margot, de la Tonnerre Saint Redmond, Ambas- sador to the King of the Kickeraboo Islands, and Knight of the Ancient Order of the Kefousels. [Crosses to r. Loupy. [Crossi?ig to Bertrand.] Now, sir, your passport. — ^liave you one 1 Bcr. [Aside.] Oh, my poor nerves ! Now for it ! I am .melting away Hke a rush-light. Red. The gentleman does you the honour to ask for your passport. Ber. [To Loupy.] Why, I showed it you yesterday. Red. What does that matter? Isn't the gentleman in the exercise of his functions ! Ber. [Aside.] Curse his functions ! I wish he wouldn't exevcise them on me. Red. He has a right to interrogate you, -dnd— [Pointed- ly,] you have no right to answer him. Ber. There ! [Lets a paper fall. — Aside.] That's the du- plicate of a pair of trowsers — that's ray other shirt — there jt is — [Giving passports. Loupy. You are called- — Ber. Bertrand. Loupy. [Looking over passport.] And how are you — Bcr. Prcttv well, I thank vou — how are you 1 t.-a.. ' ] nOBF.RT MACAIUK. 35 Loupy. Pshaw ! ^ mean how are you described — wliat is your profession ? Ber. An oi"phaii. Loupy. I ask^ what is your profession \ Ber. I tell you, an oi-phan. I'm a natural. Red. [Crossing to Loupy.] I beg pardon, hnt my friend is not in his right senses — he is deranged at times — a little cracked — half an idiot. Lotipy. He seems so. Your papers are all regular — all correct. [Gendarme appears at the back with Marie — he brings her over the bridge. Red. Then, I suppose we may continue our journey. Loupy. No — you must not go until the inquest is over. No one must leave the house till then — Ber. Oh, n..y poor nerves ! We are in for it again ! Enter Gendarme with Marie, r. d. in f. Marie. In the name of Heaven what do you want with me ? — Why am I brought here ? Dumont. Approac-h, unhappy woman, and let us hear if you can exculpate yourself from the dreadful crime of which you are accused ? Marie. What mean you? Accused! Gracious heaven ! what crime do you lay to my charge ? Dmnont. Mr. Germeuil has been murdered ! Marie. [ Wildly.] And am I suspected of being his murderer? Dumont. You are. Red. [Aside\ How fortunate. Marie. I am lost ! [Covering her fact with her hands. Dumont. What have you to say, wretched woman, in your defence ] Do you confess the deed ? Marie. [Wildly ?\ Confess! confess what? that I have deprived a fellow-creature of life 1 that I am a murderess? 'Tis beyond belief — 'tis too horrible to be real ! Recal those cruel words ! Ah, you are silent — 'tis no illusion, then. You do accuse me ! Oh, sir — good gentlemen, do not let appearances or circumstances condemn me. I swear before Heaven, I am innocent ! You may doubt my words — but look upon me ; the truth is written here, on ihis pallid brow and care-worn cheeks, these streaming eyes, these feeble hands, which now I rnisc to you in ago- ny of soul, for justice and for rncrcy ' 36 ROBERT MACVTR^. [Act II Dumont. Rir.e — nse, unfortunate woman ! I pity you, but am sorry to say suspicion is strongly against your in- nocence. Pierre. How did you come by the j^rse you let fall this morning ? Marie. 'Twas given me by Mr. Germeuil. Dumont. Indeed ! and for what purpose ? Ber. Ah, for what purpose 1 Red. [Striking him.] H(.»ld your tongue ! Marie. He gave it me in charity, as an earnest of liis future bounty. Dumont. How much money did the purse contain 1 Marie. Four Louis. I have not touched them — liere they are. [Takes out purse. Dumont. Woman — woman, this last evidence is conclu- sive. No one, would give so large a sum withoiit first be- ing acquainted with the person on whom it was bestowed. Loapy. There can be no doubt of her guilt. Arrci>t her. [To Gtndarmcs. Red. [Aside] We are safe ? Ber. Let us be off! Marie. Save me ! save me! I'm innocent! Do not — oh. do not murder me ! Lioupi). Your name \ Marie. Marie Beaumont ! Dumont. [Starting.] Is that your name ? Marie. Alas ! ye§, sir. Dumont. [Rapidli/.] Have you any children '? Marie. I had a son. Dumont. What became of him ? Marie. I know not. Cruel necessity obliged me to abandon him, nineteen years ago, at an inn, on the "oad to Grrenoble. Dumont. Did you ever live at Grenoble ? Marie. Yes, sir ; many years ago. Dii77iont. You were detained in prison there ? Marie. Oh, sir ! do you know — Dumont. You were accused, as you now are ? Marie. I was, but an I am now — I was innocent. But why these questions ? do you kn;5W anything of my f^on / Do not tonure me I 'V:^\\ mo — tell me, i3 be still ahve t Dumont. Ho- is : Scene !.J ROBEUT MACAIRFT. 37 Marie. Thank heaven ! Where is he ? C/ias. Here, mother, here ! [Rushing into her arms. M-aric. Yes ! yes, he Is my son ! my heart knows him. Chas. Mother ! dear mother ! [Retires up with Marie. — Redmond, who, during this S9cnc, has became deephj interested, wipes a tear from ?iis eye^ takes a pinch of snitff, then relapses into his usual heartless manner, picks up a j)ochet-?iandher- chief which Charles drops when he embraces his mother — -jlourishes it about, and makes his box creak. Red, [To Bcrtra7id.] 'Tis my son. Ber. You have found all your family here. Marie. My s»)n — my dear son ! [Caressing him. Chas. Dear mother, at v/hat a moment do I find you. Marie. Be comforted — Heaven will not desert me. Jjoupy. Madam, you must follow me. Chas. Ah, sir, she is my mother ! — do not take her from me ! I will answer for her appearance. Let her remain with Mr. Dumont, while we employ every means in our power to fiud the real murderer — for I am sure she is in- nocent. Lot/py. I scarcely dare tiiist you. [ They go up together consulting. Enter Baguette and Fusee, d. in f., and gives a paper to Loupy. Red. [Advancing vnth Brrtrand.] I try to be indifferent and callous, but I still feel my heart beat and yearn to embrace nw son. I dare not own him — yet I should like to feel his hand in mine. Ah ! this i.s his handkerchief — I'll return it. to him. Here is your pocket-handkerchief^ sir, which you let fall just now. [Seizing his hand and ^.squeezing it.] Charles — I beg your pardon — Mr. Charles, I congratulate you on finding your mother. [Charles goes up. Ber. [Taking R.edmond by the arm.] Wow, then, let us be off. Loupy. Secure these men. — [Pointing to Bert-rand ana Rcdmoni. The Gendarmes seize them. Red. Secure us ! for what 1 Loupy. For having escaped from the prison at Lyona I have liere a full de'scription of your persons. One of yju travels under the naint* of Bertrand— " 38 ROBKRT MACAIRB. [Act II Ber. Oh, my poor nei*ves — that's me ! JLoupy. And the other under the name of Redmond-— but the first is no oth