2275 Hervieu Modesty THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES Modesty : a Comedy in One Act : by Paul Her- /ieu : Translated by Barrett H. Clark Samuel French: Publisher 25 West Forty-fifth Street : New York Samuel French, Ltd. 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND LONDON PRICE 35 CENTS THE WORLD'S BEST PLAYS BY CELEBRATED EUROPEAN AUTHORS A New Series of Amateur Plays by the Best Authors, Ancient and Modern, Especially Translated with Historical Notes, Suggestions for Staging, etc., for the use of Schools, Colleges, and Dramatic Clubs BARRETT H. CLARK General Editor Author of "A Study of the Modern Drama," "Contemporary French Dramatists," "How to Produce Amateur Plays," etc. These plays may be produced by amateurs without the payment of a royalty fee. The Romancers. A comedy in 3 acts. By Edmond Rostand. 8 men, 1 woman (extra woman as supers). New translation of this celebrated and charming little romantic play by the famous author of "Cyrano de Bergerac" and "Chantecler." 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The author here paints the picture of an elderly couple, and shows that they have not realized their happiness until it is on the point of being taken from them. 2 women, 2 men. Price 35 cents. The Beneficent Bear. A comedy in 3 acts. By Goldoni. One of the best-known comedies of the Father of Italian comedy. A costume piece laid in 18th century France, the principal character in which is a good-hearted, though gruff, old uncle. 4 men, 3 women. Price 35 cents. Have you a copy of "How to Produce Amateur Plays" BY BARRETT H. CLARK Modesty : a Comedy in One Act : by Paul Her- vieu : Translated by Barrett H. Clark Samuel French: Publisher 25 West Forty-fifth Street : New York Samuel French, Ltd. 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND LONDON PAUL HERVIEU. Paul Hervieu (born in 1857 at Neuilly-on-the- Seine) is one of the greatest of contemporary French dramatists. His plays are thesis plays of the most pronounced type, aimed for the most part against legal and social abuses. Hervieu is noted for his reticent and sober treatment of tragedy, but his little one-act play, "Modesty," proves that he has a delicate sense of humor and the ability to satirize in a light and graceful way some of the weaker ele- ments of human nature. This little play contains no difficulties as to stag- ing, costuming, or stage "business." 1C99640 $ PERSONS IN THE PLAY HENRIETTE. JACQUES. ALBERT. SCENE : A drawing-room, TIME: The present. Modesty SCENE: A drawing-room. Entrance c. ; sofa, chairs, writing-desk. JACQUES and HENRIETTE enter c., from dinner. HENRIETTE in ball cos- tume, JACQUES in evening dress. They come down c. HENRIETTE. What is it? Is it so terribly em- barrassing ? JACQUES. You can easily guess. HENRIETTE. You're so long-winded. You make me weary come to the point. JACQUES. I'll risk all at a stroke My dear Henriette, we are cousins. I am unmarried, you a widow. Will you will you be my wife? HENRIETTE. Oh, my dear Jacques, what are you thinking of? We were such good friends! And now you're going to be angry. JACQUES. Why ? HENRIETTE. Because I'm not going to give you the sort of answer you'd like. JACQUES. You don't you don't think I'd make a good husband? HENRIETTE. Frankly, no. JACQUES. I don't please you ? HENRIETTE. As a cousin you are charming ; as a husband you would be quite impossible. JACQUES. What have you against me? 5 6 MODESTY HEN.RIETTE. Nothing that you're to blame for. It is merely the fault of my character; that forces me to refuse you. JACQUES. But I can't see why you ? HENRIETTE. (With an air of great importance) A great change is taking place in the hearts of us women. We have resolved henceforward not to be treated as dolls, but as creatures of reason. As for me, I am most unfortunate, for nobody ever did anything but flatter me. I have always been too self-satisfied, too JACQUES. You have always been the most charm- ing of women, the most HENRIETTE. Stop! It's exactly that sort of ex- ageration that's begun to make me so unsure of myself. I want you to understand once for all, Jacques ; I have a conscience, and, furthermore, it is beginning to develop. I have taken some important resolutions. JACQUES. What do you mean? HENRIETTE. I have resolved to better myself, to raise my moral and intellectual standards, and to do that I must be guided, criticized JACQUES. But you already possess every im- aginable quality: you are charitable, cultured, re- fined HENRIETTE. (Annoyed) Please! (Turns away and sits on settee. JACQUES addresses her from be- hind chair) JACQUES. You are discreet, witty HENRIETTE. The same old compliments ! Every- body tells me that. I want to be preached to, con- tradicted, scolded JACQUES. You could never stand that. HENRIETTE. Yes, I could. I should be happy to profit by the criticism. It would inspire me. JACQUES. I'd like to see the man who has the audacity to criticize you to your face MODESTY 7 HENRIETTE. That is enough! I trust you are aware that you are not the person fit to exercise this influence over me? JACQUES. How could I? Everything about you pleases me. It can never be otherwise. HENRIETTE. How interesting! That's the very- reason I rejected your proposal. I sha'n't marry until I am certain that I shall not be continually pestered with compliments and flattery and submis- sion. The man who marries me shall make it his business to remind me of my shortcomings, to cor- rect all my mistakes. He must give me the assur- ance that I am continually bettering myself. JACQUES. And this husband have you found him already? HENRIETTE. What ? Oh, who knows? JACQUES. Perhaps it's Albert? HENRIETTE. Perhaps it is what of it? JACQUES. Really ! HENRIETTE. You want me to speak frankly? JACQUES. Of course. HENRIETTE. Then you wouldn't be annoyed if I said something nice about Albert ? f JACQUES brings down c. chair which is by desk, facing HENRIETTE. ) JACQUES. Why, he's your friend ! HENRIETTE. Oh! So you, too, have a good opinion of him? JACQUES. Certainly. HENRIETTE. Well, what would you say of him? JACQUES. (Trying to be fair) I'd trust him with money I've never heard he was a thief. HENRIETTE. But in other ways? JACQUES. (Still conscientious) I believe him to be somewhat somewhat HENRIETTE. Wilful? Headstrong? 8 MODESTY JACQUES. Um uncultured, let us say. HENRIETTE. As you like but for my part, I find that that air of his inspires absolute confidence. He knows how to be severe at times JACQUES. You're mistaken about that; that's only simple brute force. Go to the Zoo : the ostrich, the boa constrictor, the rhinoceros, all produce the same effect on you as your Albert HENRIETTE. My Albert? My Albert? Oh, I don't appropriate him so quickly as all that. His qualifications as censor are not yet entirely demon- strated. (JACQUES rises and approaches HENRIETTE, who maintains an air of cold dignity.) JACQUES. For Heaven's sake, Henriette, stop this nonsense ! HENRIETTE. What nonsense? JACQUES. Tell me you are only playing with me. That you only wanted to put my love to the test! To make me jealous! To torture me! You have succeeded. Stop it, for Heaven's sake HENRIETTE. My dear friend, I'm very sorry for you. I wish I could help you, but I cannot. I have given you a perfect description of the husband I want, and I am heart-broken that you bear so re- mote a resemblance to him. JACQUES. Only promise you will think over your decision. HENRIETTE. It is better to stop right now. JACQUES. Don't send me away like this. Don't HENRIETTE. I might give you false hopes. I have only to tell you that I shall never consent to be the wife of a man who cannot be the severest of censors. JACQUES. (Kneeling) I beg you! MODESTY 9 HENRIETTE. No, no, no, Jacques ! Spare me that. (A telephone rings in the next room) There's the 'phone JACQUES. Don't go! (HENRIETTE rises hastily and goes to door. JACQUES tries for a moment to stop her.) HENRIETTE. I must go. Go away, I tell you. I'll be furious if I find you here when I come back. JACQUES. Henriette ! HENRIETTE. (Coming down L. to table) Not now ! Please, Jacques. (Exit) JACQUES. I can't leave it that way. I am the husband who will make her happy. But how? That is the question. (Pause) Ah, Albert ! (Enter ALBERT. He shakes hands with JACQUES. ) ALBERT. How are you, rival? JACQUES. (Gravely) My friend, we are no longer rivals. ALBERT. How's that? JACQUES. I have just had a talk with Henriette ; she refuses to marry either one of us. ALBERT. Did she mention me? JACQUES. Casually. (Both sit down: ALBERT on sofa, JACQUES on chair near it.) ALBERT. What did she say? JACQUES. Oh, I wouldn't repeat it; it wouldn't be friendly. ALBERT. I must know. JACQUES. Very well, then she said that you had not succeeded nor had I to find the way to her heart. Between you and me, we've got a high- io MODESTY minded woman to deal with, a philosopher who de- tests flattery. It seems you have been in the habit of paying her compliments ALBERT. I never pay compliments. JACQUES. Whatever you did, she didn't like it. Moreover -since you want the whole truth you seem to her a bit ridiculous. ALBERT. Pardon? JACQUES. The very word : ridiculous. She wants a husband who will act as a sort of conscience pilot. Evidently, you haven't appealed to her in that ca- pacity. ALBERT. Sometimes I used to be rather sharp with her JACQUES. You did it too daintily, perhaps ; you lacked severity. I'll wager you smiled, instead of scowled that would have been fatal ! ALBERT. I don't understand. JACQUES. Henriette is a singular woman ; to get her, you have to tell her that you don't like her her pride demands it. Tell her all her bad qualities, straight from the shoulder. ALBERT. (Feeling himself equal to the task) Don't worry about that! (Rises and walks about) I know women love to be told things straight out. JACQUES. I'm not the man for that ; nor are you, I suppose? ALBERT. No? Jacques, I'm awfully obliged to you ; you've done me a good turn JACQUES. Don't mention it ALBERT. You want to do me one more favor? JACQUES. (Devotedly) Anything you like! ALBERT. Promise me you'll never let Henriette know that you told me this ? JACQUES. I promise; but why? ALBERT. You know she has to understand that my behavior toward her is in character. Natural, you see. MODESTY ii JACQUES. Oh, you're going at it strenuously. ALBERT. I am. JACQUES. Your decision honors you. ALBERT. Let's not have Henriette find us to- gether. Would you mind disappearing? JACQUES. With pleasure. I'll look in later and get the news. (JACQUES rises.) ALBERT. Thanks, Jacques. JACQUES. Good-bye, Albert. (Exits after shak- ing hands cordially with ALBERT j HENRIETTE. (Re-entering as ALBERT assumes a rather severe attitude) How are you? (Pause) Have you seen Jacques? ALBERT. (With a determined air) No, Henri- ette. Thank God ! HENRIETTE. Why ? ALBERT. Because it pains me to see men in your presence whom you care nothing for. HENRIETTE. (Delighted) You don't like that? (Sitting down on sofa) ALBERT. No, I don't. And I'd like to tell you HENRIETTE. About my relations with Jacques? ALBERT. Oh, he's not the only one. HENRIETTE. Heaps of others, I suppose? ALBERT. (Sits on chair near sofa) You suppose correctly ; heaps. HENRIETTE. Really? ALBERT. You are a coquette. HENRIETTE. You think so? ALBERT. I am positive. HENRIETTE. I suppose I displease you in other ways, too ? ALBERT. In a great many other ways. 12 MODESTY HENRIETTE. (Really delighted) How confident- ly you say that ! ALBERT. So much the worse if you don't like it ! HENRIETTE. Quite the contrary, my dear Albert ; you can't imagine how you please me when you talk like that. It's perfectly adorable. ALBERT. It makes very little difference to me whether I please you or not. I speak according to my temperament. Perhaps it is a bit authoritative, but I can't help that. HENRIETTE. You are superb. ALBERT. Oh, no: I'm just myself. HENRIETTE. Oh, if you were only the ALBERT. I haven't the slightest idea what you were about to say, but I'll guarantee that there's not a more inflexible temper than mine in Paris. HENRIETTE. I can easily believe it. (Pause) Now tell me in what way you think I'm coquettish. (Sitting on edge of sofa in an interested attitude. ALBERT takes out cigarette, lights and smokes it) ALBERT. That's easy ; for instance, when you go to the theater, to a reception, to the races. As soon as you arrive, the men flock about in dozens ; those who don'1; know you come to be introduced. You're the talking-stock of society. Now I should be greatly obliged if you would tell me to what you attribute this notoriety? HENRIETTE. (Modestly) Well, I should attrib- ute it to the fact that I am agreeable, and pleas- ant ALBERT. There are many women no less so. Henriette. (Summoning up all her modesty to reply) You force me to recognize the fact ALBERT. And I know many women fully as pleasant as you who don't flaunt their favors in the face of everybody ; they preserve some semblance of dignity, a certain air of aloof distinction that it would do you no harm to acquire. MODESTY 13 HENRIETTE. (With a gratitude that is conscious of its bounds) Thanks, thanks so much. (Drawing back to a corner of the sofa) I am deeply obliged to you ALBERT. Not at all. HENRIETTE. In the future, I shall try to behave more decorously. ALBERT. Another thing HENRIETTE. (The first signs of impatience begin to appear) What ? Another thing to criticize ? ALBERT. A thousand! (Settling himself com- fortably) HENRIETTE. Well, hurry up. ALBERT. You must rid yourself of your exces- sive and ridiculous school-girl sentimentality. HENRIETTE. I wonder just on what you base your statement. Would you oblige me so far as to explain that? ALBERT. With pleasure. I remember one day in the country you were in tears because a poor little mouse had fallen into the claws of a -wretched cat; two minutes later, you were sobbing because the poor cat choked in swallowing the -wretched little mouse. HENRIETTE. That was only my kindness to dumb animals. Is it wrong to be kind to dumb animals? (She is about to rise when ALBERT stops her -with a gesture) ALBERT. That would be of no consequence, if it weren't that you were of so contradictory a nature that you engage in the emptiest, most frivolous con- versations, the most HENRIETTE. (Slightly disdainful) Ah, you are going too far ! You make me doubt your power of analysis. I am interested only in noble and high things ALBERT. And yet as soon as the conversation 14 MODESTY takes a serious turn, it's appalling to see you; you yawn and look bored to extinction. HENRIETTE. There you are right partly. ALBERT. You see! HENRIETTE. (Sharp and even antagonistic) Yes, I have that unfortunate gift of understanding things before people have finished explaining them. While the others are waiting for the explanation, I can't wait, and I fly on miles ahead ALBERT. Hm that sounds probable; I sha'n't say anything more about that just now. But while I'm on the subject, I have more than once noticed that you are guilty of the worst vice woman ever possessed HENRIETTE. And what, if you please? ALBERT. Vanity. HENRIETTE. I, vain ? Oh, you're going too far ! ALBERT. (Unruffled) Not a word ! Every time I tell you a fault, you twist it round to your own advantage. Whereas, you are really worse HENRIETTE. (Rising and gathering her skirts about her with virtuous indignation) You are rude ! I suppose you would find fault with me if I considered myself more polite than the person whom I have the honor to address? ALBERT. I hope you don't intend that remark as personal ? HENRIETTE. I certainly do. (She crosses to the other side of the stage, and sits down. ALBERT rises and goes up to her) ALBERT. Henriette! No! (Laughing) I see your trick! HENRIETTE. What do you mean ? ALBERT. You can't deceive me by pretending to be angry. You wanted to see whether I could withstand your temper. Let us now proceed to the next chapter: your manner of dressing. HENRIETTE. (Now really outraged) My man- MODESTY 15 ner of dressing? You dare! (HENRIETTE crosses L. Front, ALBERT following her) ALBERT. Yes, that will be enough for to-day HENRIETTE, And then you'll begin again to- morrow ! ALBERT. Yes. HENRIETTE. And do you think for one minute that I'll listen to you while you insult me to my face? You are the vain one, to think you can come to that! You are the frivolous one, you are the ALBERT. (Slightly perturbed) Be careful what you say ! HENRIETTE. I'll take care of that. Let me tell you that you are a detestable cynic. You are dis- gustingly personal; always dwelling on details, on the least ALBERT. Which is as much as calling me a fool ? HENRIETTE. Just about. You would be if you didn't read your morning paper regularly; so regu- larly that I know in advance exactly what you are going to say to me during the day. ALBERT. Why not call me a parrot? HENRIETTE. That would flatter you, for you don't speak as well as a parrot ; a parrot's memory never gets clouded, a parrot has at least the com- mon politeness to ALBERT. (Between his teeth) I won't stand for this. I wonder how you could have endured me so long if you thought me such a fool. HENRIETTE. I believed you harmless. ALBERT. Are you aware that you have wounded me cruelly? HENRIETTE. You have wounded me. Thank Heaven, though, we had this discussion! Now I'll know how to conduct myself toward you in the future. ALBERT. Thank Heaven for the same thing! It i6 MODESTY was high time! I grieve to think that only last night, I had fully made up my mind to ask you to be my wife! HENRIETTE. My dear friend, if you ever do so, I shall show you the door immediately. (Enter JACQUES hurriedly. HENRIETTE runs to him as for protection.) JACQUES. What's all this noise? What's the matter? HENRIETTE. Oh, Jacques I'm so glad you've come. ALBERT. Just in time! You put an end to our pleasant little tete-a-tete. JACQUES. But what's happened? HENRIETTE. Well, Monsieur here ALBERT. No, it was Mademoiselle who ('HENRIETTE and ALBERT each take an arm of JACQUES and bring htm down-stage c. His at- tention is constantly shifting from one to the other, as they address him in turn.) HENRIETTE. Just think, Jacques ALBERT. Jacques, she had the audacity to HENRIETTE. Stop! I'm going to tell him first JACQUES. You're both too excited to explain any- thing. Albert, you take a little stroll and cool off. ALBERT. (Retreating toward the door) Charmed. HENRIETTE. Then I can draw a free breath. JACQUES. (To ALBERT j I'll fix up things while you're away. ALBERT. (To both) I won't give in. HENRIETTE. Neither will I. JACQUES. Tut, tut.' MODESTY 17 ALBERT. Good-day, Mademoiselle. HENRIETTE. Good-day. JACQUES. Good-day, Albert. (Exit ALBERT j HENRIETTE. Thank goodness, we're rid of him! JACQUES. (Sympathetically) Tell me all about it. HENRIETTE. (Sits down on sofa, inviting JAC- QUES by a gesture to do the same. He sits beside her) That man invented the most abominable thing's about me ; criticized me to my face ! JACQUES. He did! HENRIETTE. It was so ridiculous makes me sick to think about it. JACQUES. My dear Henriette, don't think about it. Albert must have behaved like a brute to make you so angry. HENRIETTE. Yes, don't you think so? You think I'm right? JACQUES. (Loyally) Of course I do. HENRIETTE. (At her ease once more) You en- courage me, Jacques. JACQUES. When I saw you were angry, I said to myself at once: "Henriette is right." HENRIETTE. Really ? JACQUES. I said it because I knew you were by nature peace-loving and considerate HENRIETTE. (With profound conviction) Well, I think that's the least that could be said of me. JACQUES. In any event, you are always tactful, you always HENRIETTE. You know me, Jacques ! JACQUES. I flatter myself. I felt instinctively you couldn't be wrong. You have always been so admirably poised, so unfailingly considerate. HENRIETTE. (With perfect simplicity) Frankly now, do I ever lose my temper with you? JACQUES. (In good faith) Never. With me you are always patient, gracious, modest NOT SO LONG AGO Comedy in a Prologue, 3 acts, and Epilogue. By Arthttf Biehman. 5 males, 7 females. 2 interiors, 1 exterior. Costumes, 1876. Plays a full evening. Arthur Biehman has constructed his play around the Cinderella legend. The playwright has shown great wisdom in his choice of material, for he has cleverly crossed the Cinderella theme with a strain of Borneo and Juliet. Mr. Bichmau places his young lovers in the picturesque New York of forty years ago. This time Cinderella is a seamstress in the home of a social climber, who may have been the first of her kind, though we doubt it. She is interested sentimentally in the son of this house. Her father, learning of her infatuation for the young man without learning also that it is imaginary on the young girl's part, starts out to discover his intentions. He is a poor inventor. The mother of the youth, ambitious chiefly for her children, shud- ders at the thought of marriage for her son with a sewing-girl. But the Prince contrives to put the slipper on the right foot, an^ the end is happiness. The play is quaint and agreeable and the three acts are rich in the charm of love and youth. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cent*. THE LOTTERY MAN Comedy in 3 acts, by Bida Johnson Young. 4 males, 5 females. 3 easy interiors. Costumes, modern. Plays 2% hours. In "The Lottery Man" Bida Johnson Young has seized upon custom of some newspapers to increase their circulation by clever schemes. Mrs. Young has made the central figure in her famous comedy a newspaper reporter, Jack Wright. Wright owes his employer money, and he agrees to turn in one of the roost sensational scoops the paper has ever known. His idea is to conduct a lottery, with himself as the prize. The lottery is an- nounced. Thousands of old maids buy coupons. Meantime Wright falls in love with a charming girl. Naturally he fears that he may be won by someone else and starts to get as many tickets as his limited means will permit. Finally the last day is an- nounced. The winning number is 1323, and is held by Lizzie, an old maid, in the household of the newspaper owner. Lizzie refuses to give up. It is discovered, however, that she has stolen- the ticket. With this clue, the reporter threatens her with arrest. Of course the coupon is surrendered and Wright gets the girl of his choice. Produced at the Bijou Theater, New York, with great success. (Royalty, twenty-five dollars.) Price, 75 Cents, SAMUEL FRENCH, 25 West 45th Street, New York City Our New Descriptive Catalogue Sent Free