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THE HUNCHBACK. 
 
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 IN ¥IVE ACTS. 
 
 By JAMES SHERIDAN KNOWLES, 
 
 Author of '• Virginius," " William Telly' " The Wife,'' etc., etc. 
 
 FROM THE ORIGINAL TEXT AS FIRST PRODUCED AT THE THEATRE 
 
 ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON, APRIL 5, 1832 ; THE PARK 
 
 THEATRE, NEW YORK, 1832 AND 1845 ; AND THE UNION 
 
 SQUARE THEATRE, NEW YORK, OCTOBER 26, 187i 
 
 AN ENTIRELY NEW ACTING EDITION. 
 
 (PBESERVING THE AUTHOB's TEXT ENTIKE.) 
 
 WITH FULL STAGE DIRECTIONS, ACCURATELY MARKED — CAST OF CHARAC- 
 TERS — SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY — FULL DESCRIPTION OF COSTUMES, EX- 
 PRESSLY COMPILED FOR THIS FD'TION— BILL FOR PRO- 
 GRAMMES — STORY OF THE PLAY — REMARKS — AND 
 THOSE PORTIONS OF THE PLAY TO BK OMITTED IN 
 REPRESENTATION ACCURATELY MARKED 
 WITH INVERTED COMMAS. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JOHN M. KINGDOM, 
 
 AutTiorof *'Marcorelti,"*'TIie Fountain of Beauty," "A Life's Vengeance," '^Tancred,' 
 
 *'The High Road of Life,'' " Which is My Husband .?" ''The Old Ferry 
 
 House," ^'Madeline," " Wreck of the Golden Nary,'' 
 
 " The Three Musketeers," etc., etc. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 COPXBIGHT, 1876, BY ROBEBT M. DE WlTT. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK. 
 
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 THE HUNCHBACK. , ^ ., ' 
 
 SCEXUET. I ^-7^» 
 
 (ACCOEDINO TO THE OBiaiNAL TEXT.) /f /t/ ^ 
 
 ACT /.f Scene 1.— A Tavern, The flats represent an old-fashioned chamber of 
 heavy oak panels, set in the fourth grooves. An old-fashioned carved fireplace, c. 
 Doors R. and l. 8 e. Chairs of a like old-fashioned style on either side of the door, 
 L., near which is a table and chair, with wine upon table. Near the door, b., four 
 chairs and table, with wine, etc. 
 
 Scene 2.— The Gardens of Mastkb Walter's House. The flits set in the second 
 grooves represent perspectively beautifully laid out flower-beds, walks, and foun- 
 tain, with old-fashioned house in distance. 
 
 Scene 3.— Apartment in Master Walter's House, The flats set in the fourth 
 grooves represent one side of the apartment with windows, hung with.ricb curtains 
 opening on to the garden beyond. Tables and chairs, with books, music, and vases 
 and flowers, etc., near l,. and r. 3 e. ; everything giving the appearance of a richly- 
 furnished room, 
 
 AC 'J' J]., Scene 1.— Apartment in Heartwell'b House. The flats set in the 
 second grooves represent an oaken chamber, with portraits hung in the panels. 
 
 Scene 2.— Gardens of Heabi well's House. The flats set in the fourth grooves 
 represent terrace and fountains, etc. ; the wings, statuary trees and flowers. Ar- 
 bors R and L. u. K, 
 
 (Scene 3.— A Street Scene. ' The flit^ set in third grooves represent the exterior of 
 old-fashioned houses. 
 
 ACT 111., Seme 1.— Drawing-room in the Earl op Rochdale's House. The flats 
 set in second grooves represent an elegantly-furnished apartment. 
 
 Scene 2.— Apartment in Heaktwell's House. The flats set in fourth grooves ; a 
 rich table with title deeds and papers upon it, writing materials, etc. — placed to the 
 left of the centre, near 3 e. ; chairs on either side of it, and chairs near r. 3 and 2 E. 
 Windows at the back looking on to gardens ; curtains, and pictures. 
 
 ACT IV., Scene 1.— A Room in the Earl of Rochdalk's House. The same as 
 Scene 1, Act III,, set in second grooves. 
 
 Scene 2.— Banqueting Room in the same. The flats set in the fourth grooves rep- 
 resent one side of a delicately painted and gilded apartment ; an archway, c, hung 
 with rich curtains. Doors b. and l. u. e. In the panels, which the wings represent, 
 are hung portraits ; a gilded table R., with chairs to correspond near the entrances 
 on either side of the stage ; handbell on table ; writing materials, 
 
 ACT v.. Scene 1.— A Room in tlie Earl of Rochdale's House. The same as 
 Scene 1, Act III., set in second grooves. 
 
 Scene 2.— Julia's Chamber, An elegantly-furnished apartment, with window C; 
 curtains, etc, ; chairs k. and l. of window. The flats are placed in the third grooves. 
 
 Scene 3,— Banqueting Room in the Earl of Rochdale's House, Same as Scene 
 2, Act IV.* 
 
 We will now give the scenery as adopted at the Union Square Theatre, New York, 
 
 ACT 1., Scene 1,— The Tavern on Ludgate Hill.t The flats in the third grooves 
 represent a heavily-wainscoted room, A door l. ; near it an old-fashioned mahog- 
 any table and two chairs ; door l. 2 e. ; a liigh antique carved fii'eplace, r. u. e, ; a 
 door L. 2 E., and near it another table and four chairs; a chair to the left of the 
 door l. 2 E. 
 
 * In the ordinary representations the Scene of Julia's chamber is omitted, and 
 the banqueting room takes tlie place ; Scenes 2 and 3 being thus thrown into one. 
 
 t One of the chief thoroughfares of the old City of London as it is at the present 
 time In this street and the vicinity were a number of taverns, or coffee houses, as 
 they were frequently termed, where gay and gallant noblemen and men of fashion, 
 wit, and learning assembled, to discuss politics, literature, love, and scandal, every- 
 thing in fact, and drinking wine deeply, their revelry ending frequently in a duel 
 or a night in the watch-house. A few of these old places are still in existence, 
 though, it is hardly necessary to say, somewhat differently conducted and frequented. 
 
 M290069 
 
4 THE HUNCHBACK. 
 
 Al the end of this scene the curtain fallSt and Scene 2, Act 1. of the original edition 
 forms Act II. 
 
 ACT II., Scene 1.— The Gardens of Mastek Walter's Country House. The flats, 
 set as far back as possible, represent a fine old mansion -with terraces, etc. ; a terrace 
 running across the stage b. and l. v. b., approached by a short flight of steps, c. ; 
 another flight of steps winds up in a slanting direction, off the stage, l. d. k. ; the 
 wings on either side represent flowering shrubs and trees, with pedestals and mar- 
 ble vases with flowers at each entrance. Twining boughs of trees and flowers inter- 
 mingled are suspended from above, forming a charming roof or canopy, and a car- 
 pet thrown over the stage, to represent a well kept grass plot. 
 
 Act III. of the original version is thrown into this scene, with which Act II. ends, 
 and Act III. begins with Act II. of that version, the scene being changed from an apart' 
 ment to a garden. 
 
 ACT III, Sdene 1.— The Garden of Master Heartwbll's House, near London. A 
 rich garden scene represented on the flats with the wings to correspond ; statuary 
 on either side ; an arbor, l.v.e. 
 
 Scene 2 of the original version is thrown into tJiis scene, and Scene 3 becomes 
 
 Scene 2.— A Street in London, The flats set in second grooves representing ex- 
 terior of old-fashioned houses. 
 
 The first scene of Act 111. is omitted, and the second scene changed from an apartment in 
 Heartwell's house forms tJie opening scene of 
 
 ACT /F.— Library in Master Heartwell's House. The flats set in fourth 
 grooves represent the interior of library ; antique book-cases and chairs ; window, 
 c, and velvet curtains. Table and chairs, c. of stage, opposite 3 e. An alcove in 
 a slanting direction, between 1 and 3 e., on each side of the stage, through which 
 is seen richly carved cabinets ; chairs, r. and l. of each alcove ; writing materials ; 
 parchments, papers, etc. 
 
 All the following scenes in Acts IV. and V. of the original version are thrown into one 
 scene, which forms 
 
 A CTS V. and F/.— Grand Saloon in the Earl of Rochdale's House. The flats 
 set right back represent a handsome picture gallery. In the fourth grooves one side 
 of the room with a large archway, c, hung with rich velvet curtains, and gold fringe 
 and cords to draw up ; two chairs, r., chair and couch, l. ; rich cabinets, near r. and L. 
 3 E. An entrance, hung with curtains to gallery, x.. 2 e. ; a door, B., 2 £., near which 
 is a richly gilded table and three chairs. 
 
 COSTUMES, 
 
 Master "Walter.— A black Old English velvet doublet slashed with black satin; 
 black mantle ; black cap and plume ; hunched shoulders ; black trunks and silk 
 stockings ; shoes and bows ; sword and cane. 
 
 Sib Thomas Clifford.— A puce silk doublet richly slashed with crimson, with the 
 front loose, showing rich lawn shirt with handsome lace collar : a dark velvet 
 mantle liued with satin ; dark trunks trimmed with lace at the ends ; russet 
 boots ; blue velvet hat, looped up with diamonds and button and feathers ; ruf- 
 fles of lace ; and handsome sword. Seco7id dress ; dark velvet doublet oi)en at 
 bosom, exposing shirt, lace ruflfles and collar ; black silk stockings ; shoes ; and 
 rosettes. 
 
 Modus.— Brown velvet doublet, and puce colored silk trimmings ; black trunks ; 
 silk stockings and shoes ; lace collar. 
 
 Lord Tinsel.— A beautiful rich green silk doublet and trunks, with lace ruffles and 
 collar; shirt, etc ; white silk stockings ; shoes and rosettes ; buflP hat and white 
 sweeping feathers. 
 
 Fathom.— Dark brown doublet, open at breast to show shirt ; trunks braided ; white 
 collar ; black stockings and shoes ; auburn wig. 
 
 Master Wilpord.— Isi Dress : Dark colored doublet of velvet, and mantle lined 
 with white silk *, lace ruffles and collar ; black silk trunks, etc. ; shoes and bows; 
 
THE HUNCHBACK. 5 
 
 hat and feathers. 2d Dress : Dark-blue silk doublet open ; with lace ruffles and 
 collar ; dark velyet pantaloons ; silk stockings ; russet boots ; rich hat and feath- 
 ers : mantle lined with crimson silk ; sometimes it is dressed thus, when he is 
 
 LoBD Rochdale.— Scarlet satin mantle, lined with white silk ; doublet of like color, 
 slashed with white and scarlet ; trunks ; white silk stockings ; shoes, etc ; buff 
 hat and feathers. 
 
 Gaxlovi:.— Similar dress to WiiiFOBD's, but of crimson, slashed with white ; silk 
 stocking.s ; shoes ; white hat and feathers, and sword. 
 
 Thomas.— Gray, oi)en doublet, of cloth, and trunks braided ; white collar; black 
 wig ; black stockings, and shoes. 
 
 Master Heartwell. — Black velvet doublet, and lace ruffles; trunks with laced 
 bottoms ; lace collar ; gray hat and feathers ; dark brown silk stockings, and 
 shoes with rosettes ; stick and sword. 
 
 Stephen. - Chocolate colored doublet and trunks bound with velvet ; purple stock- 
 iuga, and shoes ; lace collar and ruffles ; plain black hat and white handkerchief. 
 
 HoLDWELL —A similar dress, with the colors, varied to the first dress of Masteb 
 
 WlLFOBD. 
 
 Simpson.— A similar dress 
 
 "Waiter.— Black doublet; trunks, stockings, and shoes ; white apron. 
 
 Servant.— Plain gray doublet, and trunks, with dark blue stockings, and shoes ; 
 white collar. 
 
 Julia.— Is/ Dress : White muslin dress trimmed with lace ; broad hat and bhie rib- 
 bons. 2d Dress : Light blue satin gown, with bodice and lace trimmings ; broad 
 hat and rich feathers. Sd Dress : White satin bridal dress and train ; long 
 sleeves richly trimmed with lace ; pearl necklace ; white satin shoes. 
 
 Helen.— 1*< Dress : White muslin trimmed with pink silk or satin ; hat and feath- 
 ers ; rich fan. 2d Dress : Rich blue silk dress, with muslin body and satin train 
 of any light and bright color ; ruff ; fan, etc. 
 
 PROPERTIES. 
 
 FOE THE OEIOINAL VEESION. 
 
 ACT /., Scene 1.— Two circular old-fashioned tables, and half a dozen chairs to cor- 
 respond ; wine bottles and goblets. Scene 3.— Two antique carved and gilded 
 tables ; chairs to match ; books, music, and vases with flowers ; letter. 
 
 A CT II., Scene 1.— Bell. Scene 2. —Vases and pedestals and pieces of statuary. Scene 
 3.— Several letters for Stephen. 
 
 ACT 11/., Scene 1.— Scroll of paper for petition. Scene 2.— A richly-gilded antique 
 table ; parchment deeds, papers, and writing materials ; chairs to correspond 
 with table ; pictures ; letter for Julia to sign ; parchments and letter for Mas- 
 ter Walter ; letter for Thomas. 
 
 ACTl v., Scene 1.— Book for Modus. Scene 2.— Richly-gilded table and chairs ; let- 
 ter for Clifford ; hand-bell. 
 
 ACT v.. Scene 1.— Book for Modus. Scene 2.— Peal of bells; rich jewel case and 
 jewels ; light gilded chamber chairs. Scene 3.— Gilded table and chairs ; carpet, 
 etc. ; parchment. 
 
 UNION SaUAEE VEBSION. 
 
 -«4Cr/., 5c«n« 1.— Same as above. 
 
 ACT JL, Scene 1— Statuary, pedestals, and vases with flowers ; carpet to represent 
 grass over the entire stage ; letter for Fathom. 
 
 ACT III, Scene 1. — Statuary, pedestals, and vases ; bell. Scene 2.— Several letters 
 for Stephen. 
 
 ACT IV., Scene 1.— Antique bookcases and chairs, with a table of the same kind;, 
 cabinets to be seen through alcoves ; writing materials ; papers ; parchment 
 deeds and letters for Master Walter ; paper for Julia to sign ; letter for 
 Thomas. 
 
6 
 
 THE HUNCHBA-CK. 
 
 ACTS V. and r/.— Richly-gilded table, and chairs to correspond ; couch; cabinets, 
 ▼ith articles of virtu ; letter for Cliffokd : book for Modus ; writing materials ; 
 parchment. 
 
 STOET OF TEE PLAY. 
 
 Of all the members of the leading rank of English nobility some few centuries 
 ago, there were very few who could surpass, or even equal, the owner of the title and 
 estates of the Earldom of Rochdale. As the author says : 
 
 " A lord of many lands 1 
 In Berkshire half a county : and the same 
 In Wilkshire, and in Lancashire. Across 
 The Irish Sea a principality. 
 And not a rood with bond or lien on it !" 
 
 These large estates, and the large revenues accruing therefrom, necessarily 
 required an educated, keen, and careful manager or agent, and this was found in a 
 presumed distant relative of the family, one Master Walter, to whom the Earl en- 
 trusted the entire control of hia large domains. He was a singular man, was Master 
 "Walter ; he was in his demeanor somewhat reserved, aud yet withal, there was in 
 his manner and action a genial kindness?, and a true, outspoken honesty. In every 
 respect he was a worthy man, whose word would paas on 'change as easily as his bond, 
 so good was his repute from years of tried experience and in all respects a man of 
 liberality ; no scheme of public good was ever put forward in his neighborhood, 
 but it was supported by his own contributions to a larger extent than those of any 
 other i)erson, in addition to that which he was enabled, and authorized to draw 
 from his master's revenues. Retiring in his habits and assuming no prominent posi- 
 tion beyond that which his place in society actually required, it was well known 
 there were many acts of charity performed which could only emanate from him, 
 though outward signs could not trace the authorship. Marrying young, he antici- 
 pated a life of happiness, only, however, doomed to disappointment, for in giving 
 birth to a daughter, his wife's life was forfeited. It was then that he felt come upon 
 him the great drawback of deformity in his personal appearance— he was a hunch- 
 back !— and in losing one who had considered that no detriment to his mental quali- 
 fications, he felt himself isolated in the world, and he determined still further to 
 isolate himself, and bring up his daughter in ignorance of her true relationship, so 
 that on such account she should not be wanting in filial aflfection Thus years passed 
 on, and beneath his tender, fostering care the infant Julia progressed to woman- 
 hood, with all the charms that nature could bestow, and mental cultivation enhance. 
 
 It so happened that time, however, wrought a great change. The Earl's son was 
 stricken down with a fatal malady, and he was himself seized with a like disease, to 
 which he speedily succumbed. In consequence of this, the titles and estates devolved 
 upon one Master Wilford, a very distant relative, a cousin in the third degree, a gay, 
 reckless gallant, who, though the son of a gentleman, had been hitherto unnoticed 
 by his wealthy relative, and had been glad to enjoy the scanty revenues of a scriven- 
 er's cierk, at that time, however, no very mean occupation, and to pass his time in 
 gayety and pleasure, his boon companions youthful noblemen, as handsomely equip- 
 ped and reckless as himself —whose evenings were spent in the taverns of the city of 
 London, at the period of the play the nightly resort of wealthy profligacy, wit, and 
 learning. It is with such a scene as this, when Master Walter arrives to search out 
 the successor to the title and estates of his deceased master, that the play commences. 
 Surrounded by gentlemen, to whom Master Wilford has revealed the great pros- 
 pects awaiting him, and who do not fail to blend their congratulations with copious 
 draughts of wine, the hunchback meets with a boisterous reception, and bis stem 
 rebuke upon the levity exhibited at the receipt of the intelligence he brings of Lord 
 Rochdale's death, and the consequent accession of Master Wilford to the title and 
 estates, calls forth from Gaylove, one of the gallants present, an insulting allusion to 
 bis deformity. Calm as he usually Is, this personal attack is too much to bear, and 
 
THE HUJSCHBACK. / 
 
 swords are drawn, but one Sir Thomas Clifford, a youthful baronet, who happens to 
 be present, takes the quarrel upon himself, and by his honest, gallant bearing, so 
 stems the torrent of the uncalled for attack, that the offender and his party quit the 
 tavern, possibly for further brawls, leaving, however, the hunchback and his com- 
 panion alone. They recognize each other ; Sir Thomas Clifford, from the stories he 
 has heard of the agent's good qualities, and Master Walter, from a clerk in his em- 
 ploy, who had once been in the service of Clifford's father. The hunchback, with his 
 usual keenness, at once perceives there is a chance for a fitting husband for his daugh- 
 ter ; he knows Sir Thomas, as he tells him, to have been trained to knowledge, indus- 
 try, frugality, and honesty, and sounding him well, finds that he does not live beyond 
 his means, and neither bets nor races, and furthermore, that he has no mistress for 
 his house. In glowing language, he describes the charms of Julia, and ends with an 
 invitation to visit her, observing with marked meaning : 
 
 " You'll bless the day you served the Hunchback, sir I" 
 
 Julia has been brought up in the country entirely, under the watchful eye of Mas- 
 ter Walter, whom she looks upon as her guardian, and for whom she feels and ex- 
 presses the deepest affection. Beyond the rural life, which she is lead to believe has 
 been enjoined by her unknown father for some family reason, she sees not any at- 
 traction, and even the vivid picture of gayety and pleasure which her companion 
 Helen describes of city life, fails to have any effect. To her the only true happiness 
 of life is to be found in the country ; the principles being firmly impressed in her 
 mind by Master Walter— 
 
 '* Nine times in ten the town's a hollow thing, 
 Where what things ai'e is naught to what they show ; 
 Where merit's name laughs merit's self to scorn ! 
 Where friendship and esteem, that ought to be 
 The tenants of men's hearts, lodge in their looks 
 And tongues alone." 
 
 In one of the sweetest speeches ever written she describes the love and kindness 
 exhibited towards her from childhood upwards by the hunchback; but the glowing 
 scene is interrupted by his arrival with Sir Thomas, whose unexpected visit naturally 
 excites the keenest curiosity. Clifford is not long before he peiceives the great at- 
 tractions of his host's ward, and he takes a very early opportunity of declaring his 
 pa.ssion. This scene is an exceedingly pretty one, and most admirably constructed. 
 She is pleased with his handsome, gallant, and manly bearing, but determines to try 
 him by insisting that whoever marries her must lead a country life. But to all this 
 Clifford is attached— smiles without deceit ; peace and contentment ; the observance 
 of nature, winter or summer ; the fireside on a winter's night ; all this has charms 
 which those in cities fail to find; and, warmly supporting her views, he again offers 
 his hand and fortune. The new-made lovers are, however, abruptly interrupted by 
 the sudden entry of Master Walter, who receives intelligence that a written packet 
 to be given only to him has been found in the deceased Earl's escritoire, which neces- 
 sitates a journey to London, whither he determines to take Julia and her companion 
 Helen. 
 
 The allurements of the city prove too strong for the country-bred girl, and in the 
 ensuing scene there is an admirably -written description of the change which has taken 
 place. In the country, five and six o'clock in the morning saw Julia rising from her 
 couch, but now those hours see her frequently retiring ; and Master Walter is 
 astounded when he receives from his friend Heartwell, at whose house she is staying, 
 the astonishing intelligence— 
 
 *' Your country maid has wilted all away, 
 And plays the city lady to the height ; 
 Her mornings gives to mercers, milliners, 
 Shoemakers jewellers, and haberdashers ; 
 Her noons, to calls ; her afternoons, to dressing ; 
 Evenings, to plays or cards ; and nights, to routs, 
 Balls, masquerades 1 Sleep only ends the riot, 
 "Which waking still begins ! " 
 
8 
 
 THE HUNCHBACK. 
 
 ClifTord is naturally alarmed at this sudden and unanticipated change. He fondly 
 and mildly remonstrates, hut all in vain ; the wayward, fiery spirit has hroken 
 forth, and the hitherto unthwarted will can hrook no control. The wedding has 
 been fixed, indeed, it is only a week oflf, and its near approach affords an opportunity 
 for a very fine scene, wherein Julia describes to Helen the grand position she will 
 occupy as Lady Clifford— carriages, retinue, dresses, jewelry, every luxury, in fact, 
 that wealth can obtain. But she is overheard by Clifford, who, in a sweetly-written 
 speech, reproaches her for her vanity and lack of love for himself, and acquaints her 
 with bis resolve— 
 
 " The day that weds, wives you to be widowed. 
 ***** be Lady Clifford ! 
 My coffers, lands, are all at thy command ; 
 "Wear all ! but for myself, she wears not me, 
 Who would not wear me for myself alone. 
 I'll lead thee to the church on Monday week ; 
 Till then farewell ! and then— farewell forever ! " 
 
 A sad change now comes over the scene. Clifford succeeded to the baronetcy and 
 estates upon the presumption that a cousin, who stood before him, had died at sea ; 
 but intelligence now arrives that such was not the case, that he was saved, and has 
 returned ; consequently, rank and wealth pass away, and Clifford is now all but a 
 beggar. 
 
 He acquaints Master Walter with the tidings ; but in him it works no difference 
 outwardly ; he has studied closely the merits of his intended son-in-law, and he per- 
 ceives and recognizes his worth in poverty as in prosperity. The difficulty is how to 
 deal with his daughter, to strike the gay and high-flown city notions from her mind, 
 and bring back again the purity of country life and the principles of true love, for 
 that she loves Clifford he is convinced ; it is a proud spirit that will not brook any 
 guidance or control which prevents her acknowledging it and yielding. That this ia 
 the ease is shown in a very spirited scene indeed, wherein Helen, with an immensity 
 of gay and sparkling maliciousness, assisted by her quiet, bookworm cousin, Modus, 
 and acting upon the instructions of Master Walter, informs Julia of Clifford's fall, 
 and tells her how they will tease and worry him, and what delightful pleasure it will 
 be to call him plain " Master " Clifford, instead of " Sir Thomas " ; which calls forth 
 frequent bursts of anger from Julia, showing, though she will not admit it, that 
 her entire love is his. 
 
 Master Walter's plans prosper. The new Earl of Rochdale, enchanted by the 
 beauty of Julia, offers her his hand and title, which she declines ; but, upon the rup- 
 ture with Clifford, he makes a second offer, and entrusts it to Master Walter, who 
 acts as agent to him as he did to the deceased Earl, for delivery. This affords inci- 
 dents for one of the finest scenes in the play. Now that Clifford is i)Oor Julia feela 
 her love return stronger than ever ; but her pride is in the way ; she will not ac- 
 knowledge her faults, and he will not seek her. In her angry pettishness she avows 
 her hate for him, and Master Walter, seizing the opportunity, informs her of Lord 
 Rochdale's second offer, descants upon his high position and large estates, and urges 
 her, out of revenge, to accept his proposal, placing the letter before her : 
 
 " Write thy own name. 
 And show how near akin thy hate's to hate." 
 
 She does sign ; and when it is too late bitterly bemoans her hasty act. The 
 step cannot, however, be retraced, and, accompanied by her guardian, Helen, and 
 her cousin, she proceeds to the Earl's country seat. 
 
 Upon their arrival there, one of the most amusing and brilliant comedy scenes ever 
 written ensues between the gay and vivacious Helen, who is really deeply in love 
 with her cousin Modus, but whom she is unable to draw put of a quiet, sleepy, 
 dreamy sort of way, constantly studying Greek and Latin books, more especially 
 " Ovid's Art of Love." 
 
 Pursuing the plan he has formed. Master Walter never ceases to speak of his 
 wealth and position; but he does not fail to see the old love still remains finn. 
 
THE hu:nckback. 9 
 
 He tells her a sweetly-written story (which is, however, much curtailed in rep- 
 resentation, why, I know not) of a princess and a page, who is seized and confined in 
 a dungeon upon her father discovering their love ; but at night another page appears ; 
 it is the princess in disguise ; the door flies open ; a steed is ready to bear them both 
 away to liberty. Enraptured with the tale Julia exclaims : 
 
 " Oh ! happy princess, that had wealth and state, 
 To lay them down for love ! " 
 
 and in the most glowing terms reveals how strongly the sentiment reigns within her 
 breast. 
 
 At this moment a servant announces that the Earl, who is absent, has sent his sec- 
 retary with a letter, which he is waiting to deliver. Master Walter, considering it 
 to be a private communication, withdraws, reminding her that the morrow sees her a 
 ^redded bride. The secretary is ushered in, and as he announces his errand in low 
 and humble tones, they strike upon her ear as those to which she has been accus- 
 tomed ; her courage fails ; she suspects, but dare not satisfy her anxiety ; at last> 
 summoning up all her strength, she turns and takes the letter. It is Clifford— 
 plainly clad— yet as handsome and as noble as ever. In brilliantly written language 
 he alludes to the past, but she nerves herself to the task of preserving her position aa 
 the promised bride of another ; yet when he kneels and implores her pardon, true- 
 love breaks forth, and she throws herself into his arms upon his assurance that the 
 nuptials can be avoided with honor. 
 
 These blissful moments are, however, interrupted, by the return of Master Walter, 
 who, recognizing the secretary, orders his immediate withdrawal, at the same time 
 artfully and purposely turning away— giving them time for further converse, and 
 affording an opportunity to Clifford to declare to Julia— 
 
 " The ring that goes thy wedding finger on, 
 No hand save mine shall place there !" 
 
 The marriage morn approaches, and the meeting of Master Walter and Julia 
 brings forth an explanation. It is a magnificently constructed scene, and the lan- 
 gu li^'e of the finest and most telling kind. He traces her career from childhood up- 
 wards : her youth being passed in privacy as her father willed ; his selection of a 
 fitting partner ; her love lor him, and acceptance; their journey to town ; and her 
 sudden change. In vain she appeals for pardon, and knplores him to prevent the 
 match ; kindly, but firmly, he reminds her of her promise ; her honor is at stake, and 
 she must nerve herself for the trying ordeal. 
 
 Lord Rochdale and the guests arrive, and as a last chance, Julia avows her love 
 for Clifford, and implores to be freed from her promise. A refusal follows— Clifford 
 beseeches her not to give her hand ; she hesitates ; when the hunchback reminds her 
 that she has a father. With vehement energy she exclaims : 
 
 " Bring him now— 
 To see thy Julia justify thy training. 
 And lay her lite down to redeem her word ! " 
 
 Struck with admiration, he gazes upon her tor a moment, then demands of the 
 Earl if it is his wish the nuptials should go on, and being answered in the affirma- 
 tive, exclaims : 
 
 '* Then it is mine they stop !" 
 
 Then comes the astounding revealation that the hunchback's father, a former Earl 
 of Rochdale, disgusted with his son's deformity, had placed him away when an in- 
 fant, and had left behind him a written testament only to be opened in case his heir 
 (his younger brother) should die without a son. His heir and son had both died, and 
 consequently Master Walter now becomes Earl of Rochdale. Amazed and bewildered 
 as they are, the company are still more so, when he proclaims Julia to be his daugh- 
 ter, explaining the motives for the concealment, and placing her hand in Clifford's, 
 fully realizes the prophecy that he would bless the day he served the Hunchback ! 
 
10 THE HUNCHBACK. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 ■ Of the numerous plays written by James Sheridan Knowles, few have been more 
 popular than the present one ; indeed, with the exception of " Virginius " (which the 
 celebrated tragedian, Mr. Macready, considered the finest), " William Tell," " The 
 Wife," " The Love Chase," and " The Hunchback," his pro-Juctions achieved a very 
 moderate success, and, after a brief career, have past into oblivion. 
 
 Whilst but a youth he exhibited a stjong predilection for the drama, by writing, 
 at sixteen years of age, a five-act tragedy entitled "The Spanish Story," a piece of 
 very fair average merit. This was followed by " Hersilia," and "The Gypsy," which 
 was acted at Waterford, in Ireland, the celebrated tragedian, Edmund Kean (with 
 whom the author was performing ; both then unknown to fame), playing the hero. 
 Then came a melo-drama, entitled " Brian Boroighme," founded upon the history 
 of an Irish prince of that name, who, many centuries ago, defeated the Danes at 
 Clontarf, Ireland, in a very sanguinary battle. Mrs. Knowles represented the hero- 
 ine, Kean the hero, and the author (who was first singer at the theatre, which shows 
 the versatility of his talent), the high priest. After this came a highly classical play, 
 called " Caius Gracchus," followed by his great Roman play, "Virginius," which 
 was produced at Glasgow, Scotland in April, 1820, and with which Mr. Macready 
 was so liighly pleased that he secured its production in London immediately after, 
 ward, and made the leading character one of the greatest of his successes. Then 
 came his fine play of " William Tell," in which Mr. Macready made another hit ; 
 and which also proved very successful in Ireland, where the author made a long 
 professional tour, not altogether a very satisfactory one, more especially in his birth- 
 place, the City of Cork, where he met with such a tame reception, more particularly 
 in a i)ecuniarv sense, upon the night of his benefit that he observed to a friend : "My 
 plays are too liberal for the aristocratic illiberals of Ireland— they breathe the noble 
 sentiments of liberty, and such are not the sentiments of the influential classes in 
 Ireland. I do not regret the creation of those sentiments I am going to a place 
 where the feelings and reality of liberty exist in their most glowing forms— and not 
 the form alone, but the embodied spirit. I am going to America."* 
 
 After " William Tell " came " The Beggar's Daughter of Bethnal Green," founded 
 upon a ballad in Percy's " Reliques of Ancient Poetry," a drama of faulty construc- 
 tion, and which proved a failure. It was followed by another work, " Alfred the 
 Great"; but, although it had the powerful support of Macready in the principal 
 character, its success was only temporary. We now come to the present play ; with 
 respect to which it is best to give the author's introduction to the first edition, pub- 
 lished in 1832 : 
 
 " This comedy owes its existence to the failure of ' The Beggar's Daughter of 
 Bethnal Green,' which was produced under the most unfavorable circumstances, and 
 in the unavoidable absence of the author. I did not like to be baffled, especially, as 
 I thought, without good reason ; and, cheered by the generous, enthusiastic advoca- 
 cy of the Atlast (a perfect stranger to me), I set to work upon ' The Hunchback.' 
 
 " My friend, Mr. Macready,! who was very angry with me for again attempting a 
 walk in which I had failed— and who came to Glasgow solely, I believe, for the ob- 
 ject of expostulating with me,— was the first to encourage me to proceed. I had com- 
 pleted my first act. I read it to him, and he told me to go on. This I thought the 
 
 * This was in 1825, but he did not leave England for the United States until July, 
 1834 
 
 t The title of one of the leading newspapers published in London at that period. 
 
 t Although the author alludes thus to Macready. wlio was his greatest friend and 
 atoiirer, and had been the means of introducing him so prominently to the public by 
 effecting the production of "Virginius" in London, it is curious to note that in the 
 Reminiscences of that eminent tragedian there is not the slightest allusion to this 
 subject. The only times he refers to this play are on August 20, 1832 : ' Went to 
 Haymarket to see 'The Hunchback '—a beautiful play very indifferently acted"; 
 and on the following day, August 21 : " Wrote criticism on ' The Hunchback * " ; 
 but fbe >rhjr or the wherefore does not appear. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK. 11 
 
 happiest ot omens, for many a proof had he given me of his admirable judgment in 
 such things. This happened about two years ago. 
 
 " It was not, however, until the latter end of the summer of 1831 that I had lei- 
 sure to proceed with my work. I recommenced it in the pleasant walks about Bir- 
 mingham, and completed it on the sands of Newbaven— my roomy study ; where, at 
 the same time, I remodelled ' Alfred.' I brought both plays up to town with me in 
 April laat. 
 
 " ' The Hunchback ' was read to Mr. Lee, and instantly accepted by that gentle- 
 man, who, without hesitation, granted me teims even more advantageous than those 
 which I required for it from Covent Garden, and to whose polite and liberal deport- 
 ment towards me, during his brief, divided reign of management, I joyfully take 
 this opportunity of bearing testimony. The play, however, was defective in the 
 under-plot, which was perfectly distinct from the main one. This error Mr. Mac- 
 ready pointed out to me— as did subsequently Mr. Morton, in an elaborate critique 
 as full of kindness as of discrimination. My avocations, however, did not leave me 
 at liberty to revise my work till about two months ago, when 1 constructed my 
 under-plot anew ; and, having done my best to obviate objections, presented ' The 
 Hunchback' to Drury Lane, from which establishment I subsequently withdrew it, 
 because it was not treated with the attention whica 1 thought it merited." 
 
 Upon this withdrawal, the author took his play to Covent Garden Theatre, and 
 was so warmly received by the management that he very soon, to quote his own 
 words, "found a home indeed, and among friends." 
 
 In little more than a fortnight the play was ready, improved and strengthened 
 by curtailment and condensation, kindly and judiciously suggested by experienced 
 and practical friends, and warmly and gratefully accepted. Its first representation 
 was a great success, owing much (apart from the intrinsic merits) to the fine per- 
 formances of Miss Fanny Kemble. It subsequently had the advantage of the still 
 finer actin;? of Miss Ellen Tree (afterwards Mrs. Charles Kean). 
 
 The success of the play in London soon caused its production in America, and a 
 piece so brilliantly popular both before and behind the curtain, was first produced at 
 the Park Theati-e, New York, June 10, 1832, with the cast mentioned at the com- 
 mencement. It was also produced the same night at the Richmond Hill Theatre, 
 with Mr. Hilson as Master Walter ; Mr. Clarke as Sir Thomas Clifford; Mi's. Barnes 
 as Julia ; and Mrs. Hilson as Helen ; a quartette in pointof merit more than a match 
 for the Park comjjetilors, but there, however, the subordinate characters were much 
 superior, and Mr. H Placide especially won high applause by his i)erfect embodi- 
 ment of the droll stupidity of Fathom, making it far more effective, as the author 
 afterwards acknowledged, than it had ever been rendered upon the English stage ; 
 indeed, it is said that he candidly admitted he had never thought itjwssible to make 
 the character so attractive. The play was not, however, at first quite so successful 
 as expected ; the fine drawn character of the heroine, upon which the author had 
 lavished all his skill and power, failing of its intended eflfect, until the magic of 
 Fanny Kemble's genuis placed it in a position of favor from which the rude handling 
 of many an ignorant dfbufante and many ambitious aspirants for tragic honors have 
 been unable to dislodge it. The sensation created by the appearance of Mr. and 
 Miss Kemble, is stated to have been equalled in kind only in the days of Cooke and 
 the elder Kean, and in duration and intensity, was altogether unparalleled ; the in- 
 tellectual, educated and refined, crowded the theatre when they performed, and 
 during their entire stay their popularity never waned. 
 
 On October 15, 1832, it was produced also at the New York Theatre, better known 
 as the Bowery Theatre, with Mr. Hamblin as Sir Thomas Clifford, and Miss Vincent 
 as Julia : it proved a decided hit 
 
 In 1845 this popular play was again successfully introduced to the public with a 
 powerful array of talent, as will be seen by referring to the cast. That it should suc- 
 ceed, was a moral certainty, the sweet actin? of the talented and highly gifted Mrs, 
 Charles Kean being sufficient in itself to ensure success. Gentleman, scholar, and 
 actor, as Mr. Charles Kean was, he was unsuited to the part of Sir Thomas Clifford 
 
12 THE HUirCHBA.CK. 
 
 both in voice and figure ; of this he was well aware, for it was a character he seldom 
 attempted ; when he did so, I believe it was only done to show oflF the brilliant abil- 
 ity of his wife. 
 
 It was again produced upon the fourth of June, 1847, upon the occasion of a com- 
 plimentary benefit given to Mrs. James Mason, formerly Miss Emma Wheatley, by 
 a number of leading citizens. She appeared as Julia, which is stated to have been 
 her best character, and judging from the accounts handed down, was most ably sup- 
 ported by Mr. Bass as Master Walter, Mr. Wheatley as Sir Thomas Clifford, Mr. G. 
 Barrett as Modus, and Mrs. Abbott as Helen. The i)erformance was a great success; 
 it was Mrs. Mason's last appearance, and in every respect it was a fiattering end to a 
 career eminent alike for professional skill and private worth. 
 
 It rested now pretty well until the 30th of August, 1862, when it was produced at 
 the Broadway Theatre, with Mr. F. Conway as Master Walter, Mr Grosvenor as 
 Modus, Mr Florence as Lord Tinsel, Miss Julia Dean as Julia, and Miss Annie 
 Londsale as Helen ; meeting with very fair success. 
 
 But it was reserved until the year 1874 to witness what may literally and truly be 
 called one of the greatest triumphs of this play. In the month of October in 
 that year it was produced at the Union Square Theatre, New York, in a manner, 
 both as regards the acting and the mounting, that, as a whole, has very rarely been 
 surpassed ; indeed, the style in which it was put upun the stage reflected the great- 
 est possible credit upon the liberality of the proprietor, Mr. Sheridan Shook, and the 
 good taste and judgment of the manager, Mr. A. M. Palmer. Mr. F. Robinson's 
 Master Walter and the Sir Thomos Clifford of Mr. Charles R. Thorne, Jr., were ad- 
 mirably rendered ; the Modus of Mr. Stuart Eobson and the Fathom of Mr. J. E. 
 Irving everything that could be desired. Miss Clara Morris made an excellent Julia, 
 and though wanting in some respects the softness and sweetness thrown into the 
 part by her great predecessors, in many instances she rendered the character most 
 powerfully and effectively. I should think a better Helen than Miss Kate Claxton 
 has not been seen upon the New York stage for some years, if at all. It has rarely 
 been my lot to see a finer piece of acting or one greeted with louder or more genuine 
 applause than the scene between her and Modus, in which they discourse upon Ovid 
 and the art of love. It will be some time, I think, before the masterpiece of Knowles 
 will be better mounted or more effectively acted. 
 
 I will here take the opjwrtunity of saying that I am indebted for much of the fore- 
 going material to Mr. Ireland's " History of the New York Stage," which is one of 
 the best works of the kind I have met with, and I tender him my sincere thanks for 
 the information obtained from it, not only for this play, but for others which I have 
 had the honor and pleasure of editing. 
 
 J. M. Kingdom. 
 
 STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
 
 R. means Right of Stage, facing the Audience ; L. Left ; C. Centre ; R. C. Right 
 of Centre ; L. C. Left of Centre. D. F. Door in the Flat, or Scene running across 
 the back of the Stage ; C. D. F. Centre Door in the Flat ; R. D. F. Right Door in 
 the Flat ; L. D. F. Left Door in the Flat ; R. D. Right Door ; L. D. Left Door ; 1 E. 
 First Entrance; 2 E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance ; 1, 2 or 3 G. First, 
 Second or Third Grooves. 
 
 R. R. C. C. L. C. L. 
 
 K9* The reader is supposed to be upon the stajfe facing the audience. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK. * 13 
 
 BILL FOR PROGRAMMES, 
 
 AS OBIOINALLT PLAYBD. 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCBNE T.— INTEEIOR OF A TAVERN. 
 A Gallant Ca^'ousal — Extravagance, Love, and Wine — An Expectant Earl and 
 his Boon Companions — Arrival of the Hunchback — The Tidings of 
 Death — A Gallant in his Ctips — Tlie Quarrel — A Friend in Need— The 
 Story of Sir Thomas Clifford— The Offer of a Wife. 
 
 ScKNE ir.— THE GARDENS OF MASTER WALTER'S HOUSE. 
 The Fair Julia and her Companion Helen — Town and Country Life — Th$ 
 Story of a Loving Guardian — An Unexpected Visitor — Woman's Curi- 
 osity. 
 
 Scene III.-APARTMENT IN MASTER WALTER'S HOUSE. 
 Love at First Sight — Sir Thomas Wooes a Rural Bride — Lovers Disturbed — 
 
 Departure for Town. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I.-APARTMENT IN MASTER HEARTWELL'S HOUSE. 
 Town and Country Servants — Julia Transformed to a City Beauty — High jVb' 
 
 tions and Late Hours. 
 
 Scene II. -THE GARDENS OF HEARTWELL'S HOUSE. 
 A Meeting of Old Friends — The Pleasures of High Life — Gayety and Love — 
 
 A Fickle Woman — The Wedding Day Fixed — Visions of Pleasure and 
 
 Extravagance — A Lover's Remonstrance — " I'll Lead Thee to the Church, 
 
 and then — Farewell for ever .' " 
 
 Scene III.— A STREET. 
 Alarming News — Sir Thomas reduced to Poverty — A Faithful Servant — ITie 
 
 Dead come to Life — Anger of Master Walter. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I.-DRAWING ROOM IN THE EARL OF ROCHDALE'S HOUSE. 
 Indignation of his Lordship at Julia's Refusal to Marry — Rank Better than 
 Brains — Birds of a Feather — Fashionable Amusements. 
 Scene II.— APARTMENT IN MASTER HEARTWELL'S HOUSE. 
 True Love Runs not Smoothly — Offended Pride — A Woman Crossed and 
 Vexed — The Temptation of a Coronet — Pride is Triumphant, and the Old 
 Love Cast off — Neu-s of Cliffoid's Ruin — Julia's Anguish — An Artful 
 Plot — The Marriage Deeds Prepared. 
 ACT IV. 
 Scene L-A ROOM IN THE EARL OF ROCHDALE'S HOUSE. 
 Helen and her Cousin Modus — Ovid's Art of Love — Bashful Simplicity — A 
 Lively Trap to catch a Timid Lover — A Bold Resolve — " Hang Ovid's 
 Art of Love! Ill Woo my Cottsin!' 
 
 ScBNE II.-BANQUETING ROOM IN THE SAME. 
 Master Walter and his Ward— The Story of the Princess and the Page — A 
 
14 . THE HUNCHBACK. 
 
 Message from the Earl of Eochdale— Master Walter* s Warning— The 
 Poor Secretary, Sir Thomas Clifford— Bitter Anguish of Julia— Love 
 Overcomes Pride ^ and Clifford Wins— Unexpected Entrance of the 
 Hunchback— Dismissal of Clifford. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I.-A ROOM IN THE EARL OF ROCHDALE'S HOUSE. 
 
 A Scheming Woman— Helen's Plan for Julia's Flight— A Plot for Marriage 
 — A Simple Lover, and a Woman's Teaching — A Happy Result — Love 
 Victorious. 
 
 SctNE II.— JULIA'S CHAMBER. 
 
 Preparations for the Wedding — Anguish of Julia— Arrival of the Hunch- 
 back — Agonizing Appeal of Julia — He Pictures to Her the Sweetness of 
 Her Country Life — TJiere is no H&pe— Arrival of the Bridegroom and 
 Guests — Pathetic Appeal of Julia — Refusal of the Bridegroom — Sudden 
 Intervention of Master Walter— Startling Disclosures / The Hunch- 
 back is Earl of Rochdale, and Jidia his Daughter ! — Union of Julia and 
 Sir Thomas Clifford. 
 
 AS PLAYED AT THE UNION SQUARE THEATRE. 
 
 ACT 1. 
 
 Scene I.-SAME AS ABOVE, ACT I., SCENE II. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I.— THE GARDENS OF MASTER WALTER'S COUNTRY HOUSE. 
 
 The incidents described above in Act I., Scenes 2 and 3. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene II. -THE GARDENS OF MASTER HE ART WELL'S HOUSE NEAR 
 
 LONDON. 
 
 TJie incidents descibed above in Act IL, Scenes 1 and 2. 
 
 SCBNK III.— A STREET IN LONDON, SAME AS ACT IL, SCENE III. 
 ACT IV. 
 Scene I.-LIBRARY IN MASTER HEARTWELL»8 HOUSE. 
 The incidents described above in Act IIL, Scene 2. 
 
 ACT V. 
 Scene L-GRAND SALOON IN THE EARL OF ROCHDALE'S HOUSE. 
 The incidents described above in Act IV., Scenes 1 and 2. 
 
 ACT VI. 
 
 Scene I.— THE SAME. 
 The incidents described above in Act V., Scenes 1, 2, and 3. 
 
THE HUNCHBACK. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. — A tavern. Sir Thomas Clifford at a table with wine before 
 him, L. c, Master Wilford, Gaylove, Holdwell, and Simpson, 
 Uketvise talcing wine, at table near r. 2 e. 
 
 Wir.FORD. Your wine, sirs; your wine; you do not justice to mine 
 host of the Three Tuns, nor credit to yourselves. I swear the beverage 
 is good ! It is as palatable poison as you will purchase within a mile 
 round Ludgate, Drink, gentlemen ; make free. You know I am a man 
 of expectations, and hold my money as light as the purse in which I 
 carry it. 
 
 Gaylove. We drink, Master Wilford ; not a man of us has been 
 chased as yet. 
 
 WiLF. But you fill not fairly, sirs. Look at my measure ! Where- 
 fore a large glass, if not for a large draught ? Fill, I pray you, else let 
 us drink out of thimbles. This will never do for the friends of the 
 nearest of kin to the wealthiest peer in Britain, 
 
 Gay. We give you joy, Master Wilford, of the prospect of advance- 
 ment which has so unexpectedly opened to you. 
 
 WiLF. Unexpectedly indeed ! But 3^esterday arrived the news that 
 the earl's only son and heir had died, and to day has the earl himself 
 been seized with a mortal illness. His dissolution is looked for hourly, 
 and I, his cousin in only the third degree, known to him but to be un- 
 noticed by him — a decayed gentleman's son — glad of the title and 
 revenues of a scrivener's clerk — am the undoubted successor to his es- 
 tates and coronet. 
 
 Gay. Have you been sent for ? 
 
 WiLF. No ; but I have certified to his agent, Master Walter, the 
 hunchback, my existence and peculiar propinquity; and momentarily 
 expect him here. 
 
 " Gay. Lives there any one that may dispute your claim — I mean 
 vexatiously 1 
 
 " WiLF. Not a man, Master Gaylove. I am the sole remaining branch 
 of the family tree." 
 
 Gay. Doubtless you look for much happiness from this change of 
 fortune 7 
 
 WiLF. A world ! Three things have I an especial passion for : the 
 finest hound, the finest horse, and the finest wife in the kingdom, Mas- 
 ter Gaylove. 
 
 Gay. The finest wife ! 
 
 WiLP. Yes, sir; I marry. Once the earldom comes into my line, I 
 shall take measures to perpetuate its remaining there. I marry, sir! I 
 do not say that I shall love. My heart has changed mistresses too 
 
16 THE HUNCHBACK. [a.CT I. 
 
 often to settle down in one servitude now, sir. But fill, I pray you, 
 friends. This, if 1 mistake not, is the day whence 1 shall date my new 
 fortunes, " and for that reason, Hither have I invited you, that having 
 been so long my boon companions, you should be the first to congratu- 
 late me." 
 
 Enter Waiter, l. d. 
 
 Waiter You are wanted, Master Wilford. 
 WiLF. By whom ? 
 Waiter One Master Walter. 
 
 WiLF. His Lordship's agent ! News, sirs ! Show him in ! {rises.') 
 
 [Exit Waiter, l. d. 
 My heart's a prophet, sirs — the Earl is dead. 
 
 Enter Master Walter, l. d. 
 
 Well, Master Walter ; how accost you me 1 {all come forward, except Clif- 
 ford, R.) 
 Walter, As your impatience shows me you would have me, 
 
 My Lord, the Earl of Rochdale ! 
 Gay. Give you joy ! 
 
 Holdwell. All happiness, my lord ! 
 
 SiMPSox. Long life and health unto your lordship ! 
 "Gay. Come! 
 
 "We'll drink to his lordship's health ! 'Tis two o'clock. 
 
 " We'll e'en carouse till midnight ! Health, my lord !" 
 Hold. My lord, much joy to you ! Huzza ! {aU go to the table, fill and 
 
 drink.) 
 " Simp. Huzza !" 
 
 Walt. (l. c). Give something to the dead ! 
 Gay. Give what 1 
 
 Walt. Respect ! 
 
 He has made the living ! First to him that's gone 
 
 Say "Peace," and then with decency to revels. 
 Gay. What means the knave by revels 1 {advances toward Walter.) 
 Walt. Knave ! 
 
 Gat. Ay, knave ! 
 
 Walt. Go to ! Thou'rt flushed with wine. 
 Gat. Thou say est false ! 
 
 Tho' didst thou need a proof thou speakest true, 
 
 I'd give thee one. Thou seest but one lord here, 
 
 And I see two ! 
 Walt. Reflect'st thou on my shape ? 
 
 Thou art a villain ! 
 Gay. Ha ! 
 
 Walt. A coward too ! {walks from him, l.) 
 
 Draw ! {drawing his sword.) 
 Gat. Only mark him. how he struts about ! 
 
 How laughs his straight sword at his noble back. 
 Walt. Does it 1 It cuffs thee for a liar, then ! {strikes him with his 
 
 sword.) 
 Gay. a blow 1 
 
 Walt, (striking again). Another, lest you doubt the first ! 
 Gay. His blood on his own head ! I'm for you, sir ! {draws.) 
 Clifford {rising, and coming forward, r. of Walter, and drawing). 
 
 Hold, sir ! This quarrel's mine ! 
 Walt. No man shall fight for me, sir ! 
 
ACT I.J THE HUNCHBACK. 17 
 
 Clif. By your leave — 
 
 Your patience, pray ! My lord— for so I learn 
 Behooves me to accost you — for your own sake 
 Draw off your friend ! 
 
 Walt. Not till we have a bout, sir ! 
 
 " Clif. My lord, your happy fortune ill you greet — 
 " 111 greet it those who love you — greeting thus 
 " The herald of it ! 
 
 " Walt. Sir, what's that to you 1 
 
 Let go my sleeve ! 
 
 " Clif. My lord, if blood be shed 
 
 " On the fair dawn of your prosperity, 
 " Look not to see the brightness of its day. 
 " 'Twill be o'ercast throughout !" 
 
 Gat. My lord, I'm struck ! 
 
 Clif. You gave the first blow, and the hardest one ! 
 
 Look, sir ; if swords you needs must measure, I'm 
 Your mate, not he. 
 
 Walt. I'm mate for any man ! 
 
 "Clip. Draw off your friend, my lord, for your own sake I" 
 
 Wilf. Come, Gaylove, let us have another room. 
 
 Gay. With all my heart, since 'tis your lordship's will ! 
 
 Wilf. That's right ! Put up ! Come, friends ! 
 
 [Exeunt Wilfoed and friends, b. d. 
 
 Walt. I'll follow him ! 
 
 Why do you hold me 1 'Tis not courteous of you ! 
 '• Think' st thou I fear them 1 Fear ! I rate them but 
 " As dust ! dross ! offals ! Let me at them — Nay, 
 "Call you this kind ? then kindness know I not ;" 
 Nor do I thank you for't! Let go, I say ! 
 
 Clif. Nay, Master Walter, they're not worth your wrath ! 
 
 Walt. How know you me for Master Walter ? By 
 
 My hunchback, eh 1 — " my stilts of legs and arms, 
 " The fashion more of ape's, than man's 1 Aha ! 
 " So you have heard them, too — their savage gibes 
 " As I pass on — ' There goes my lord !' aha !" 
 God made me, sir, as well as them and you. 
 'Sdeath ! I demand of you, unhand me, sir ! {atsengaging him- 
 self.) 
 
 Clip. ( puts up his sword). There, sir, you're free to follow them ! Go 
 forth, 
 And I'll go, too ; so on your wilfulness 
 Shall fall whate'er of evil may ensue. 
 Is't fit to waste your choler on a burr 1 
 •' The nothings of the town "? whose sport it is 
 " To break their villain jests on worthy men, 
 " The graver, still the fitter ! Fie, for shame !" 
 Regard what such would say 1 So would not I, 
 No more than heed a cur ! 
 
 Walt. You're right, sir ; right ; 
 
 For twenty crowns ! ( puts up his sword) So there's my rapier up. 
 You've done me a good turn against my will, 
 Which, like a wayward child, whose pet is off, 
 That made him restive under wholesome check, 
 I now rightly humbly own, and thank you for. 
 
 Clif. No thanks, good Master Walter, owe you me ! 
 I'm glad to know you, sir. 
 
18 THE HUNCflBACIC. [a.CT I. 
 
 Walt. I pray you, tell me 
 
 How did you learn my name 1 Guessed I not right ? 
 
 Was't not my comely hunch that taught it you 1 
 Clif. I own it. 
 Walt. Right, I know it ; you tell truth. 
 
 I like you for't. 
 Clif. But when I heard it said 
 
 That Master Walter was a worthy man, 
 
 Whose word would pass on 'change soon as his bond j 
 
 A liberal man— for schemes of public good 
 
 That sets down tens where others units write ; 
 
 A charitable man — the good he does, 
 
 1 s told of, not the half — I never more 
 
 Could feel the hunch on Master "Walter's back. 
 Walt. You would not flatter a poor citizen 1 
 Clip. Indeed, I flatter not. 
 Walt. I like your face ; 
 
 A frank and honest one ! Your frame's well knit, 
 
 Proportioned, shaped ! 
 Clif. Good, sir ! 
 
 Walt. Your name is Clifibrd — (^Clif- 
 
 ford bows) 
 
 Sir Thomas Clifford. Humph ! You're not the heir 
 
 Direct to the fair baronetcy 1 He 
 
 That was drowned abroad. Am I not right 1 
 
 Your cousin, was't not ? So succeeded you 
 
 To rank and wealth your birth ne'er promised you. 
 Clip. I see you know my history. 
 Walt. I do. 
 
 You're lucky who conjoin the benefits 
 
 Of penury and abundance ; for I know 
 
 Your father was a man of slender means. 
 
 You do not blush, 1 see. That's right ! Why should you ? 
 
 What merit to be dropped on fortune's hill ? 
 
 The honor is to mount it. You'd have done it ; 
 
 For you were trained to knowledge, industry, 
 
 Frugality, and honesty, — the sinews 
 
 That surest help the climber to the top. 
 
 And keep him there. I have a clerk, Sir Thomas, 
 
 Once served your father ; there's the riddle for you. 
 
 Humph ! I may thank you for my life to-day. 
 Clip. I pray you, say not so ! 
 Walt. But I will say so ! 
 
 Because I think so, know so, feel so, sir ! 
 
 Your fortune, I have heard, I think, is ample ; 
 
 And doubtless you live up to't ? 
 Clip. 'Twas my plan, 
 
 And is so still, to keep my outlay, sir, 
 
 A span within my means. 
 " Walt. A prudent rule. 
 
 '* The turf is a seductive pastime ! 
 " Clip. Yes. 
 
 ♦' Walt. You keep a racing stud 7 You bet ? 
 "Clif. No, neither. 
 
 " 'Twas still my father's precept — ' Better owe 
 " A yard of land to labor, than to chance 
 •' Be debtor for a rood !' " 
 
ACT I.] THE HUNCHBACK. 19 
 
 Walt, " 'Twas a wise precept." 
 
 You've a fair house — you'll get a mistress for it ? 
 Clif. In time. 
 Walt. In time ! 'Tis time thy choice were made. 
 
 Is't not so yet 1 Or is thy lady-love 
 
 The newest still thou see'st ? 
 Clif. Nay, not so. 
 
 I'd marry, Master Walter, but old use — 
 
 For, since the age of thirteen, 1 have Hved 
 
 In the world — has made me jealous of the thing 
 
 That flattered me with hope of profit. Bargains 
 
 Another would snap up might lie for me 
 
 Till I had turned and turned them ! Speculations 
 
 That promised twenty, thirty, forty, fifty. 
 
 Ay, cent, per cent, returns, I would not launch in 
 
 When others were afloat, and out at sea ! 
 
 Whereby I made small gains, but missed great losses ! 
 
 As ever then I looked before I leaped, 
 
 So do I now. 
 Walt. Thou'rt all the better for't ! 
 
 (aside) Let's see ! Hand free — heart whole — well favored — so ! 
 
 Rich — titled ! Let that pass — kind, valiant, prudent— 
 
 {aloud) Sir Thomas, I can help thee to a wife, 
 
 Hast thou the luck to win her. 
 Clif. (astonished). Master Walter ! 
 
 You jest ! 
 Walt. I do not jest — I like you ! mark — 
 
 I like you, and I like not every one ! 
 
 I say a wife, sir, can I help you to ; 
 
 The pearly texture of whose dainty skin 
 
 Alone were worth thy baronetcy ! Form 
 
 And feature has she, wherein move and glow 
 
 The charms, that in the marble cold and still 
 
 Culled by the sculptor's jealous skill, and joined there, 
 
 Inspire us ! Sir, a maid, before whose feet 
 
 A duke — a duke might lay his coronet, 
 
 To lift her to his state and partner her ! 
 
 A fresh heart, too ! A young, fresh heart, sir, one 
 
 That Cupid has not toyed with, and a warm one. 
 
 Fresh, young, and warm ! mark that ! a mind to boot. 
 
 Wit, sir ; sense, taste ; a garden strictly tended — 
 
 Where naught but what is costly flourishes. 
 
 A consort for a king, sir ! Thou shalt see her. 
 Clif. I thank you, Master Walter ! (with spirit) E'en while you speak, 
 
 Methinks I see me at the altar foot, 
 
 Her hand fast locked in mine — the ring put on, 
 
 My wedding bell ring merry in my ear, 
 
 And round me throng glad tongues that give me joy 
 
 To be the bridegroom of so fair a bride ! (crosses.) 
 Walt, (aside). What ! sparks so thick ! We'll have a blaze anon I 
 
 Unter Servant, l. d. 
 
 Serv. The chariot's at the door. 
 Walt. It waits in time. 
 
 Sir Thomas, it shall bear thee to the bower 
 
20 THE HXnrCHBACK. [aCT I. 
 
 Where dwells this fair, for she's no city belle, 
 
 But e'en a Sylvan goddess. 
 Clip. Have with you ! 
 
 Walt. You'll bless the day you served the hunchback, sir !* 
 
 [Sxewit, L. D. 
 
 SCENE II. — A garden before a country house.-\ 
 Enter Julia and Helen, b. 
 
 Helen (l.). I like not, Julia, this, your country life. 
 
 I'm weary on't. 
 Julia (r.). Indeed ! So am not I ! 
 
 I know no other ; would no other know. 
 Helen. You would no other know ! Would you not know 
 
 Another relative ? — another friend — 
 
 Another house — another anything. 
 
 Because the ones you have already please you 1 
 
 That's poor content ! " Would you not be more rich ? 
 
 " More wise, more fair 7" The song that last you learned 
 
 You fancy well, and therefore, shall you learn 
 
 No other song ? Your virginal., 'tis true, 
 
 Hath a sweet tone; but does it follow thence, 
 
 You shall not have another virginal 1 
 
 You may love, and a sweeter one, and so 
 
 A sweeter life may find, than this you lead ! 
 Julia. I seek it not. Helen, I'm constancy ! 
 Helen. So is a cat, a dog, a silly hen, 
 
 An owl, a bat — where they are wont to lodge \ 
 
 That still sojourn, nor care to shift their quarters. 
 
 Thou'rt constancy ? I'm glad I know thy name ! 
 
 The spider comes of the same family, 
 
 That in his meshy fortress spends his life, 
 
 Unless you pull it down, and scare him from it. 
 
 *' And so thou'rt constancy 1 Art proud of that? 
 
 "I'll warrant thee I'll match thee with a snail, 
 
 " From year to year that never leaves his house ! 
 
 " Such constancy, forsooth ! A constant grub 
 
 " That houses ever in the self-same nut 
 
 " Where he was born, 'till hunger drives him out, 
 
 *' Or plunder breaketh thro' his castle wall !" 
 
 And so, in very deed, thou'rt constancy 1 
 Julia. Helen, you know the adage of the tree — 
 
 I've ta'en the bend. This rural life of mine. 
 
 Enjoined me by an unknown father's will, 
 
 I've led from infancy. Debarred from hope 
 
 Of change, I ne'er have sigh'd for change. The town 
 
 To me was like the moon, for any thought 
 
 I e'er should visit it— nor was I schooled 
 
 To think it half so fair ! 
 Helen. Not half so fair ! 
 
 The town's the sun, and thou hast dwelt in night 
 
 E'er since thy birth, not to have seen the town ! 
 
 * In the version played at the Union Square Theatre, New York, Act I. ends 
 here, and Act II. commences with the following scene. 
 t Act II., Scene 1, in new version. 
 
ACT I.] THE HUNCHBACK. 21 
 
 Their women there are queens, and kings their men; 
 Their houses palaces ! {crosses, r.) 
 Julia {crosses, l.). And what of that ? 
 
 Have your town palaces a hall like this 1 
 Couches so fragrant ? Walls so high adorned 1 
 Casements with such festoons, such prospects, Helen, 
 As these fair vistas have ? Your kings and queens ' 
 See me a May-day queen, and talk of them. 
 
 Helen. Extremes are ever neighbors. 'Tis a step 
 From one to the other ! Were thy constancy 
 A reasonable thing — a little less 
 Of constancy—a woman's constancy — 
 I should not wonder wert thou ten years hence 
 The maid I know thee now ; but as it is, 
 The odds are ten to one, that this day year 
 Will see our May-day queen a city one. 
 
 Julia. Never ! I'm wedded to a country life. 
 
 0, did you hear what Master Walter says 7 
 
 Nine times in ten the town's a hollow thing, 
 
 Where what things are, is naught to what they show ; 
 
 Where merit's name laughs merit's self to scorn ! 
 
 Where friendship and esteem, that ought to be 
 
 The tenants of men's hearts, lodge in their looks 
 
 And tongues alone. Where little virtue, with 
 
 A costly keeper, passes for a heap ; 
 
 A heap for none, that have a homely one ! 
 
 Where fashion makes the law — your umpire which 
 
 You bow to, whether it have brains or not. 
 
 Where Folly taketh off his cap and bells, 
 
 To clap on Wisdom, which must bear the jest ! 
 
 Where, to pass current, you must seem the thing, 
 
 The passive thing that others think you, and not 
 
 Your simple, honest, independent self! (crosses, b.) 
 
 Helen. Ay, so says Master Walter. See I not 
 
 What you can find in Master Walter, Julia, 
 To be so fond of him ! 
 
 Julia. He's fond of me ! 
 
 I've known him since I was a child. E'en then 
 
 The week I thought a weary, heavy one. 
 
 That brought not Master Walter. I had those 
 
 About me then that made a fool of me, 
 
 As children oft are fooled ; but more I loved 
 
 Good Master Walter's lesson, than the play 
 
 With which they'd surfeit me. As I grew up, 
 
 More frequent Master Walter came, and more 
 
 I loved to see him. I had tutors then, 
 
 Men of great skill and learning— but not one 
 
 That taught like Master Walter. What they'd show me, 
 
 And I, dull as I was, but doubtful saw — 
 
 A word from Master Walter made as clear 
 
 As daylight. When my schooling days were o'er — 
 
 That's now good three years past — three years — I vow 
 
 I'm twenty, Helen — well, as I was saying, 
 
 When I had done with school, and all were gone, 
 
 StiU Master Walter came, and still he comes, 
 
 Summer or winter — frost or rain. I've seen 
 
22 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT 1. 
 
 The snow upon a level with the hedge, 
 
 Yet there was Master Walter ! 
 Helen {crosses, l.). Who comes here "i 
 
 A carriage, and a gay one — who alights 1 
 
 Pshaw ! Only Master Walter ! What see you, 
 
 Which thus repairs the arch of the fair brow 
 
 A frown was like to spoil 1 A gentleman ! 
 
 One of our town kings ! Mark — how say you now 1 
 
 Would'st be a town queen, Julia ? (archly) Which of us, 
 
 I wonder, comes he for 1 
 Julia. For neither of us ; 
 
 He's Master Walter's clerk, most like. 
 Helen. Most like ! 
 
 Mark him as he comes up the avenue ; 
 
 So looks a clerk ! A clerk has such a gait ! 
 
 So does a clerk dress, Juiia — mind his hose — 
 
 They're very like a clerk's ! a diamond loop 
 
 And button, note you, for his clerkship's hat — 
 
 0, certainly a clerk ! "A velvet cloak, 
 
 " Jerkin of silk, and doublet of the same — " 
 
 For all the world a clerk ! See, Julia, see 
 
 How Master Walter bows, and yields him place, 
 
 That he may first go in — a very clerk ! 
 Julia. I wonder who he is 1 
 Helen. Would'st like to know 1 
 
 Would'st for a fancy, ride to town with him 1 
 
 I prophesy he comes to take thee thither. 
 Julia. He ne'er takes me to town. No, Helen, no. 
 
 To town who will— a country life for me I 
 Helen. We'll see 1 {crosses to e.) 
 
 3tier Fathom, l. c, and advances. 
 
 Fathom (c). You're wanted, madam. 
 
 Julia {embarrassed ). Which of us 1 
 
 Fath. You, madam. 
 
 Helen. Julia, what's the matter 1 Nay, 
 
 Mount not the rose so soon. He must not see it 
 
 A month hence. 'Tis love's flower, which once she wears, 
 
 The maid is all his own. 
 Julia. Go to ! 
 
 Helen. Be sure ! (crosses, l.) 
 
 He comes to woo thee ! He will bear thee hence ; 
 
 He'll make thee change the country for the town. 
 Julia. I'm constancy. Name he the town to me, 
 
 I'll tell him what I think on't ! {crosses, r.) 
 Helen. Then you guess 
 
 He comes a-wooing 1 
 Julia. I guess naught. 
 
 Helen. You do ! 
 
 At your grave words, your lips, more honest, smile. 
 
 And show them to be traitors. Hie to him. 
 Julia. Hie thee to soberness ! 
 
 [Etit by steps, l., followed part of the way by Helen. 
 Helen. Ay, will I, when 
 
 Thy bridemaid, I shall hie to church with thee. 
 
 Well, Fathom, who is come % {comes down, l.) 
 
ACT 1.] THE HUNCHBA.CK. 23 
 
 Fath. I know Dot. 
 
 Helen. Whaki 
 
 Did'st thou not hear his name 1 
 Fath. I did. 
 
 Helen. Whatis'tf 
 
 Fath. I noted not. 
 
 Helen. What hast thou ears for, then 1 
 
 Fath. What good were it for me to mind his name 1 
 
 1 do but what I must. To do that 
 
 Is labor quite enough. 
 Walt, {without, l.). Fathom ! 
 
 Fath. Here ! 
 
 Walt, {entering, c). Here, sirrah ! Wherefore did'st not come to me % 
 Fath. You did not bid me come. 
 Walt. I called thee ! 
 
 Fath. Yes, 
 
 And I said, '* Here !" and waited then to know 
 
 Your worship's will with me. 
 Walt. We go to town — 
 
 Thy mistress, thou, and all the house, 
 Fath. Well, sir 1 
 
 Walt. (c). Mak'st thou not ready, then, to go to town"? 
 Fath. You didn't bid me to make ready, sir ! 
 Walt. Hence, knave, dispatch ! [Exit Fathom, U, 
 
 Helen. Go we to town 7 
 Walt. We do; 
 
 'Tis now her father's will she sees the town. 
 Helen. I'm glad on't. Goes she to her father '? 
 Walt. No ; 
 
 With the consent of thine, she for a term 
 
 Shares roof with thee. 
 Helen. I'm very glad on't. 
 
 Walt. What ! 
 
 You like her, then 1 I thought you would. 'Tis time 
 
 She sees the town. 
 Helen. It has been time for that, 
 
 These six years. 
 Walt. By thy wisdom's count. No doubt 
 
 You've told her what a precious place it is. 
 Helen. I have. 
 
 Walt. I even guessed as much. For that 
 
 I told thee of her ; brought thee here to see her ; 
 
 And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her ; 
 
 That its fair face, from thy too fair report. 
 
 Might strike a novice less — so less deceive her. 
 
 I did not put thee under check. 
 Helen. 'Twas right- 
 
 Else I had broken loose and run the wilder ! 
 
 So knows she not her father yet 1 That's strange ; 
 
 I prithee how does mine ^ ' 
 Walt. Well— very well. 
 
 News for thee. 
 Helen. What ] 
 
 Walt. Thy cousin is in town. 
 
 Helen. My cousin, Modns ] 
 Walt. Much do I suspect 
 
 That cousin's nearer to thy heart than blood. 
 
24 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT I. 
 
 Helen, Pshaw ! Wed me to a musty library 1 
 
 Love him who nothing loves but Greek and Latin ? 
 But, Master Walter, you forget the main, 
 Surpassing point of all. Who's come with you % 
 
 Walt. Ay, that's the question ! 
 
 Helen. Is he soldier or 
 
 Civilian 1 lord or gentleman 1 He's rich, 
 If that's his chariot. Where is his estate 1 
 What brings it in 1 Six thousand pounds a yearl 
 Twelve thousand, may be 1 Is he bachelor, 
 Or husband 1 Bachelor, I'm sure he is ! 
 Comes he not hither wooing, Master Walter 'i 
 Nay, prithee, answer me ! 
 
 Walt. Who says thy sex 
 
 Are curious ? That they're patient, I'll be sworn, 
 
 And reasonable — very reasonable — 
 
 To look for twenty answers in a breath ! 
 
 Come, thou shalt be enlightened — but propound 
 
 Thy questions one by one. Thou'rt far too apt 
 
 A scholar ! My ability to teach 
 
 Will ne'er keep pace, I fear, with thine to learn. 
 
 [Ilxit, L. 1 E. 
 
 SCENE III. — An apartment in the Jiouse* 
 
 Enter J vhi A, followed by Clifford, l. c. 
 
 Julia. No more ! I pray you, sir, no more ! 
 
 Clif. I love you ! 
 
 Julia. You mock me, sir ! 
 
 Clif. Then is there no such thing 
 
 On earth as reverence '? Honor filial, the fear 
 
 Of kings, the awe of Supreme Heaven itself, 
 
 Are only shows and sounds that stand for nothing. 
 
 I love you. 
 Julia. You have known me scarce a minute. 
 
 Clif. Say but a moment, still I say I love you. 
 
 Love's not a flower that grows on the dull earth; 
 
 Springs by the calendar ; must wait for sun — 
 
 For rain ; matures by parts — must take its time 
 
 To stem, to leaf, to bud, to blow. It owns 
 
 A richer soil, and boasts a quicker seed ! 
 
 You look for it, and see it not, and lo ! 
 
 E'en while you look, the peerless flower is up. 
 
 Consummate in the birth ! 
 Julia. " Is't fear I feel 1 
 
 " Why else should beat my heart 1 It can't be fear ! 
 
 " Something I needs must say." You're from the town I 
 
 How comes it, sir, you seek a country wife 1 
 
 " {aside) Methinks 'twill tax his wit to answer that." 
 Clif. In joining Contrasts lieth love's delight. 
 
 Complexion, stature, nature mateth it, 
 
 Not with their kinds, but with their opposites. 
 
 Hence, hands of snow in palms of russet lie ; 
 
 The form of Hercules effects the sylph's, 
 
 * In the Union Square version there is no change of Scene. 
 
ACT I.] THE HUNCHBACK. 26 
 
 And breasts that case the lion's fear-proof heart, 
 
 Find their loved lodge in arms where tremors dwell ! 
 
 "Haply for this, on Afric's swarthy neck, 
 
 " Hath Europe's priceless pearl been seen to hang, 
 
 " That makes the Orient poor ! So with degrees — 
 
 " Rank passes by the circlet- graced brow, 
 
 " Upon the forehead bare of notelessness, 
 
 " To print the nuptial kiss. As with degrees, 
 
 " So is't with habits ; " therefore, I, indeed, 
 
 A gallant of the town, the town forsake, 
 
 To win a country bride. 
 .' JcLU " (asids) His prompt reply, 
 
 •' My backward challenge shames ! Must I give o'er f 
 
 " I'll try his wit again." {aloud) Who marries me, 
 
 Must lead a country life. 
 Clip. The life I love ! 
 
 But fools would fly from it ; for, oh, 'tis sweet ! 
 
 it finds the heart out, be there one to find, 
 
 And corners in't where stores of pleasures lodge, 
 
 We never dreamed were there ! It is to dwell 
 
 'Mid smiles that are not neighbors to deceit ; 
 
 Music, whose melody is of the heart, 
 
 " And gifts that are not made for interest — 
 
 " Abundantly bestowed, by nature's cheek, 
 
 " And voice, and hand ! It is to live on life, 
 
 " And husband it !" It is to constant scan 
 
 The handiwork of Heaven ! It is to con 
 
 Its mercy, bounty, wisdom, power ! It is 
 
 To nearer see our God ! 
 JiruA {aside) . How like he talks 
 
 To Master Walter ! " Shall I give it o'er 1 
 
 " Not yet." {aioud) Thou would'st not live one half a year! 
 
 A quarter might'st thou for the novelty 
 
 Of fields and trees ; but then it needs must be 
 
 In summer time, when they go dressed. 
 Clip. '• Not it !" 
 
 In any time — say winter ! Fields and trees 
 
 Have charms for me in very winter time. 
 Julia. But snow may clothe them then. 
 Clip. I like them full 
 
 As well in snow. 
 Julia. You do ? 
 
 Clip. I do !. 
 
 Julia. But night 
 
 Will hide both snow and them ; and that sets in 
 
 Ere afternoon is out. A heavy thing, 
 
 A country fireside in a winter's night, 
 
 To one bred in the town — " where winter's said, 
 
 " For sun of gayety and sportiveness, 
 
 " To beggar shining summer." 
 Clip. I should like 
 
 A country winter's night especially ! 
 Julia. You'd sleep by the fir*. 
 
 Clip. Not I ; I'd talk to thee. 
 Julia. You'd tire of that ! 
 
 Walter aud Helen enter, l. u e., and pause. 
 
26 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT I. 
 
 Clif. I'd read to thee. 
 
 Julia. And that ! 
 
 Clif. I'd talk to thee again. 
 
 Julia. And sooner th'e 
 
 Than first you did,, and fall asleep at last. 
 
 " You'd never do to lead a country life." 
 Clif. " You deal too hardly with me !" Matchless maid, 
 
 '• As loved instructor brightens dullest wit," 
 
 Fear not to undertake the charge of me ! {kneels) 
 
 A willing pupil kneels to thee, and lays 
 
 His title and his fortune at your feet. 
 " Julia {aside). His title and his fortune !" (Walter <?««? Helen advance. 
 Julia, disconcerted, retires with the latter, r. Clifford rises.) 
 Walt. So, Sir Thomas ! 
 
 Aha ! you husband time ! well, was I right ? 
 
 Is't not the jewel that I told you 'twas ? 
 
 Would' St thou not give thine eyes to wear it, eh 1 
 
 It has an owner, tho' — nay, start not — one 
 
 That may be brought to part with't, and with whom 
 
 I'll stand thy friend — I will — I say, I will ! 
 
 A strange man, sir, and unaccountable ; 
 
 But I can humor him — will humor him 
 
 For thy sake, good Sir Thomas, for I like thee. 
 
 Well, is't a bargain 1 Come, thy hand upon it. 
 
 A word or two with thee, {thet/ retire, l. Julia and Hblen 
 cmne forward, r.) 
 Julia (l.). Go up to town ! 
 
 Helev (r ). Have I not said it ten times o'er to thee 1 
 
 But if thou lik'st it not, protest against it. 
 Julia. Not if 'tis Master Walter's will. 
 Helen. What then 7 
 
 Thou would'st not break thy heart for Master Walter? 
 Julia. That follows not ! 
 Helen. What follows not 1 
 
 Julia. That I 
 
 Should break my heart that I go up to town. 
 Helen. Indeed ! Oh, that's another matter. Well, 
 
 I'd e'en advise thee, then, to do his will ; 
 
 And ever after, when I prophesy, 
 
 Believe me, Julia, {ihep retire. Master Walter coines for- 
 ward.) 
 
 Enter Fathom, L. 1 e., crosses to Walter, 
 
 Fath. So please you, sir, a letter— a post-haste letter f The bearer 
 on horseback, the horse in a foam — smoking like a boiler at the heat 
 — be sure a post-haste letter. 
 Walt. Look to the horse and rider. {Exit Fathom, l. 
 
 (opens the letter and reads) " What's this 1 A testament ad- 
 dressed to me, 
 " Found in his Lordship's escritoire, and thence 
 *< Directed to be taken by no hand 
 *' But mine. My presence instantly required." (Sir Thomas, 
 
 Julia, and Uelejh coine forward) 
 Come, my mistresses, ^ 
 
 You dine in town to-day. Your father's will 
 It is, my Julia, that you see the world, 
 
ACT II.] THE HUN CU BACK. 27 
 
 And thou sbalt see it in its best attire — 
 Its gayest looks — its richest finery 
 It shall put on for thee that thou may'st judge 
 Betwixt it and the rural life you've hved. 
 Business of moment I'm but just advised of, 
 Touching the will of my late noble master, 
 The Earl of Rochdale, recently deceased, 
 Commands me for a time to leave thee there. 
 Sir Thomas, hand her to the chariot. 
 
 Sir Thomas crosses to Julia, and taking her hand leads her towards the steps, 
 c, there they pause, and turn to look back. Walter takes Helen's 
 hand, and when he finishes speaking^ hands her towards the steps as the 
 curtain descends. 
 
 Nay, I tell thee true. We go indeed to town ! [Exeunt. 
 
 CURTAIN.* 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. — An apartment in Master Heartwell's house. 
 
 Enter Thomas and Fathom, l. 2 e. 
 
 Thomas. Well, Fathom, is thy mistress up 1 
 
 Fath. She is. Master Thomas, and breakfasted. 
 
 Thom. She stands it well ! 'Twas five, you say, when she came home, 
 and wants it now three-quarters of an hour of ten ! Wait till her stock 
 of country health is out. 
 
 Fath. 'Twill come to that. Master Thomas, before she lives another 
 month in town. Three, four, five, six o'clock, are now the hours she 
 keeps. 'Twas otherwise with her in the country. There my mistress 
 used to rise what time she now lies down, 
 
 Thom. Why, yes ; she's changed since she came hither. 
 
 Fath. Changed, do you say. Master Thomas ? Changed forsooth ! I 
 know not the thing in which she is not changed, saving that she is still 
 a woman. I tell thee, there is no keeping pace with her moods. In 
 the country, she had none of them. When I brought what she asked 
 for, it was " Thank you. Fathom," and no more to do ; but now noth- 
 ing contents her. Hark ye ! were you a gentleman, Master Thomas — 
 for then, you know, you would be a diflerent kind of a man — how many 
 times would you have your coat altered 1 
 
 Thom. Why, Master Fathom, as many times as it would take to make 
 it fit me. 
 
 Fath. Good ! But supposing it fitted thee at first 1 
 
 Thom. Then would I have it altered not at all. 
 
 Fath. Good ! Thou would'st be a reasonable gentleman. Thou 
 would'st have a conscience. Now hark to a tale about my lady's last 
 gown. How many times think you, took I it back to the seamstress "? 
 
 Thom. Thrice, may be. 
 
 Fath. Thrice, may be ! Twenty times, may be, and not a turn too 
 
 * In the Union Square version, Act II ends here, and Act III. commenoei with 
 the next iSoene, but dijfferently arranged. 
 
28 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT II. 
 
 many for the truth on't. Twenty times, on the oath of the seamstress. 
 Now mark me — can you count 1 
 
 Thom. After a fashion. 
 
 Fath. You have much to be thankful for, Master Thomas ; you Lon- 
 don serving-men know a world of things which we in the country never 
 dream of. Now mark — four times took I it back for the -flounce; twice 
 for the sleeves ; thrice for the tucker. How many times in all is that 1 
 
 Thom. Eight times to a fraction, Master Fathom. 
 
 Fa I H. What a master of figures you are ! Eight times — now recol- 
 lect that ! And then found she fault with the trimmings. Now, tell me, 
 how many times took I back the gown for the trimmings 1 
 
 Thom. Eight times more, perhaps. 
 
 Fath. Ten times to a certainty. How many times makes that ? 
 
 Thom. Eighteen, Master Fathom, by the rule of addition. 
 
 Fath. And how many times more will make twenty 1 
 
 Thom. Twice, by the same rule. 
 
 Fath. Thou hast worked with thy pencil and slate, Master Thomas. 
 Well, ten times, as I said, took I back the gown for the trimmings ! and 
 was she content after all 1 1 warrant you, no, or my ears did not pay 
 for it. She wished, she said, that the slattern seamstress had not 
 touched the gown ; for naught had she done but botched it. Now, 
 what think you, had the seamstress done to the gown 7 
 
 Thom. To surmise that, I must be learned in the seamstress's art. 
 
 Fath. The seamstress's art ! Thou hast hit it ! Oh, the sweet seam- 
 stress ! The excellent seamstress ! Mistress of her scissors and needles, 
 which are pointless and edgeless to her art ! The seamstress had done 
 nothing to the gown, yet raves and storms my mistress at her for having 
 botched it in the making and mending ; and orders her straight to make 
 another one, which home the seamstress brings on Tuesday last. 
 
 Thom. And found thy fair mistress as many faults with that 1 
 
 Fath Not one ! She finds it a very pattern of a gown ! A well- 
 sitting flounce ! The sleeves a fit — the tucker a fit — the trimmings her 
 fancy to a T — ha, ha, ha ! and she praised the seamstress — ha, ha, ha ! 
 and she smiles at me, and I smile — ha, ha, ha ! and the seamstress 
 smiles — ha, ha, ha ! Now, why did the seamstress smile 1 
 
 Thom. That she had succeeded so well in her art. 
 
 Fath. Thou hast hit it again. The jade must have been born a 
 seamstress. If ever I marry, she shall work for my wife. The gown 
 was the same gown, and there was my mistress's twentieth mood. 
 
 Thom. What think you will Master Walter say when he comes back '? 
 I fear he'll hardly know his country maid again. Has she yet fixed her 
 wedding-day 1 
 
 Fath. She has. Master Thomas. I coaxed it from her maid. She 
 marries Monday week 
 
 Thom. Comes not Master Walter back to-day 1 
 
 Fath. Your Master expects him. {bell ringing^ l.) Perhaps that's he. 
 I prithee, go and open the door ; do, Master Thomas, do ; for, proves it 
 my master, he'll surely question me. 
 
 Thom. And what should I do ? 
 
 Fath. Answer him, Master Thomas and make him none the wiser. 
 He'll go mad when he learns how my lady flaunts it. Go, open the 
 door, I prithee. Fifty things, Master Thomas, know you, for one thing 
 that I know ; you can turn and twist a matter into any other kind of 
 matter, and then twist and turn it back again, if needs be ; so much 
 you servants of the town beat us of the country. Master Thomas. Open 
 the door, now ; do, Master Thomas, do I [£xeunt, l. 1 b. 
 
ACT II.] THE HUNCHBACK. *29 
 
 SCENE II. — A garden with two arbors, r. and l.* 
 
 .EwtVr Master Heartwell, r. 1 e., and Master Walter, l. 1 e. 
 
 Heart. Good Master Walter, welcome back again ! 
 Walt. I'm glad to see you, Master Heartwell. 
 Heart. How, 
 
 I pray you, sped the weighty bus'ness which 
 
 So sudden called you hence 1 
 Walt. Weighty, indeed ! 
 
 What thou would'st ne'er expect — wilt scarce believe ! 
 
 Long hidden wrong, wondrously come to light, 
 
 And great right done. But more of this anon. 
 
 Now of my ward discourse .' Likes she the town 1 
 
 How does she 1 Is she well 1 Can'st match me her 
 
 Amongst your city maids ? 
 Heart. Nor court ones neither ! 
 
 She far outstrips them all ! 
 Walt. I knew she would. 
 
 What else could follow in a maid so bred 1 
 
 A pure mind. Master Heartwell — not a taint 
 
 From intercourse with the distempered town, 
 
 With which all contact was walled out ; until, 
 
 Matured in soundness, I could trust her to it, 
 
 And sleep amidst infection, {they cross.) 
 Heart. Master Walter ! 
 
 Walt. Well ? 
 Heart. Tell me, prithee, which is likelier 
 
 To plough a sea in safety ? — he that's wont 
 
 To sail in it — or he that by the chart 
 
 Is master of its soundings, bearings — knows 
 
 Its headlands, havens, currents — where 'tis bold, 
 
 And where behooves to keep a good look out — 
 
 The one will swim where sinks the other one ? 
 Walt. The drift of this 1 
 Heart. Do you not guess it ? 
 
 Walt. Humph ! 
 
 Heart. If you would train a maid to live in town 
 
 Breed her not in the country. 
 Walt. Say you so 1 
 
 Aud stands she not the test 1 
 Heart. As snow stands fire ! 
 
 Your country maid has melted all away. 
 
 And plays the city lady to the height — 
 
 Her mornings gives to mercers, milliners, 
 
 Shoemakers, jewellers, and haberdashers ; 
 
 Her noons to calls ; her afternoons to dressing ; 
 
 Evenings to plays or cards, and nights to routs, 
 
 Balls, masquerades ! Sleep only ends the riot, 
 
 Which waking still begins ! 
 Walt. I'm all amaze ! 
 
 How bears Sir Thomas this 1 
 Heart, {shrug gingly). Why, patiently; 
 
 Though one can see, with pain. 
 Walt. She loves him ? Ha I 
 
 * There is no change of Scene in the Union Square version. 
 
3Q THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT II. 
 
 That shrug is doubt ! She'd ne'er consent to wed hhn, 
 
 Unless she loved him — never ! Her young fancy, 
 
 The pleasures of the town — new things — have caught. 
 
 Anon their hold will slacken ; she'll become 
 
 Her former self again ; to its old train 
 
 Of sober feeHngs will her heart return, 
 
 And then she'll give it wholly to the man 
 
 Her virgin wishes chose ! {crosses, r.) 
 Heart. Here comes Sir Thomas, 
 
 " And with him Master Modus." 
 Walt. Let (them) him pass ; 
 
 I would not see him till I speak with her. {they retire into the 
 arbor, l. u. e.) 
 
 £nter Clifford and Modus, l. 1 b. 
 
 Clif. a dreadful question is it, when we love, 
 
 To ask if love's returned ! I did believe 
 
 Fair Julia's heart was mine — I doubt it now. 
 
 But once last night she danced with me, her hand 
 
 To this gallant and that engaged, as soon 
 
 As asked for I " Maid that loved would scarce do this ! 
 
 " Nor visit we together as we used, 
 
 " When first she came to town." She loves me less 
 
 Than once she did — or loves me not at all. {crosses, l.) 
 '* Mod. I'm httle skilled, Sir Thomas, in the world ; 
 
 " What mean you now to do 1 
 *' Clif. Remonstrate with her ! 
 
 " Come to an understanding, and at once — " 
 
 If she repents her promise to be mine, 
 
 ( pauses to think) Absolve her from it — and say farewell to her. 
 {crosses, towards r.) 
 '* Mod. Lo, then, your opportunity " — she comes — {he retires up the 
 stage, b.) 
 
 " My cousin with her — her will I engage, 
 
 " Whilst you converse together. 
 "Clif. Nay, not yet! 
 
 *' My heart turns coward at the sight of her. 
 
 " Stay till it finds new courage ! Let them pass I" 
 
 Enter Julia and Helen, r. 1 e. 
 
 Helen. So, Monday week will say good morn to thee 
 
 A maid, and bid good night a sober wife ! 
 Julia. That Monday week, I trust, will never come 
 
 That brags to make a sober wife of me ! 
 Helen. How changed you are, my Julia ! 
 
 Julia. Change makes change. 
 
 Helen. Why wedd'st thou, then 1 
 
 Julia. Because I promised him. 
 
 Helen. Thou lov'st him ? 
 Julia. Do I ? 
 
 Helen. He's a man to love ; 
 
 A right well-favored man ! 
 Julia. Your point's well-favored. 
 
 Where did you purchase it ? " In Gracechurch street 1" 
 Helen. Pshaw ! never mind my point, but talk of him. 
 
ACT II.] THE HUNCHBACK. 3t 
 
 Julia. I'd rather talk with thee abont the lace. 
 
 Where bought you it 1 In Gracechurch street, Cheapside, 
 
 Whitechapel, Little Britain 1 Can't you say 
 
 Where 'twas you bought the lace ? 
 Helen. In Cheapside, then. 
 
 And now, then, to Sir Thomas ! He is just 
 
 The height I like a man, 
 Julia. Thy feather's just 
 
 The height I like a feather ! Mine's too long ! 
 
 What shall I give thee in exchange for it ? 
 Helen. What shall I give thee for a minute's talk 
 
 About Sir Thomas 1 
 Julia. Why, thy feather. 
 
 Helex. Take it ! 
 
 " Clif. {aside to Modus). What ! likes she not to speak of me ?" 
 Helen. And now 
 
 Let's talk about Sir Thomas — " Much, I'm sure, 
 
 " He loves you. 
 " Julia. Much, I'm sure, he has a right ! 
 
 " Those know I who would give their eyes to be 
 
 " Sir Thomas, for my sake ! 
 " Helen. Such, too, know I. 
 
 " But 'mong them none can compare with him, 
 
 " Not one so graceful. 
 " Julia. What a graceful set 
 
 " Your feather has ! 
 " Helen. Nay, give it back to me 
 
 " Unless you pay me for't. 
 " Julia. . What was't to get t 
 
 " Helen. A minute's talk with thee about Sir Thomas." 
 Julia. Talk of his title and his fortune then. 
 " Clif. (aside). Indeed ! I would not listen, yet I must ! 
 " Julia." An ample fortune, Helen ! I shall be 
 
 A happy wife ! What routs, what balls, what masques, 
 
 What gala days ! 
 " Clif. (aside). For these she marries me ! 
 
 " She'll talk of these ! 
 " Julia." Think not, when I am wed, 
 
 I'll keep the house as owlet does her tower. 
 
 Alone — when every other bird's on wing. 
 
 I'll use my palfrey, Helen, and my coach ; 
 
 My barge, too, for excursions on the Thames ; 
 
 " What drives to Barnet, Hackney, Islington !" 
 
 What rides to Epping, Hounslow, and Blackheath ! 
 
 What sails to Greenwich, Woolwich, Fulham, Kew ! 
 
 I'll set a pattern to your lady wives ! 
 Clif. {aside, k. c). Ay, lady ? Trust me, not at my expense. 
 Julia. And what a wardrobe ! I'll have change of suits 
 
 For every day in the year ! and sets for days ! 
 
 My morning dress, my noon dress, dinner dress, 
 
 And evening dress ! Then will I show you lace 
 
 A foot deep, can I purchase it ; if not, 
 
 I'll specially bespeak it. Diamonds, too ! 
 
 Not buckles, rings, and earrings only — but 
 
 Whole necklaces and stomachers of gems ! 
 
 I'll shine ! be sure I will. 
 "Clif. {aside). Then shine away j 
 
32 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT II. 
 
 " Who covets thee may wear thee ; I'm not he ! 
 
 " Julia. And then my title ! Soon as I put on 
 " The ring I'm Xady Clifford. So I take 
 " Precedence of plain mistress, were she e'en 
 " The richest heiress in the land ! At town 
 " Or country ball you'll see me take the lead, 
 " While wives that carry on their backs the wealth 
 " To dower a princess shall give place to me ; — 
 •' Will I not profit, think you, by my right 1 
 " Be sure I will ! Marriage shall prove to me 
 " A never-ending pageant. Every day 
 ♦' Shall show how i am spoused !" I will be known 
 For Lady Cliflford all the city through, 
 And fiftv miles the countrv round about. 
 Wife of Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet- 
 Not perishable knight ; who, when he makes 
 A lady of me, doubtless must expect 
 To see me play the part of one. {crosses, l.) 
 
 Clip, {comes forward, r. c.) Most true. 
 
 But not the part which you design to play. 
 
 Julia. A lisi'ner, sir ! 
 
 Clip. By chance and not intent. 
 
 He pauses ; Helen exchanges glances with him; he hows ; she returns thi 
 compliment, and exits, b. u. e., leaving Clifpord r. c, Julia l. c. 
 
 Your speech was forced upon mine ear, that ne'er 
 
 More thankless duty to my heart discharged ! 
 
 Would for that heart it ne'er had known the sense 
 
 Which tells it 'tis a bankrupt there, where most 
 
 It coveted to be rich, and thought it was so ! 
 
 Oh, Julia ! is it you 1 Could I have set 
 
 A coronet upon that stately brow, 
 
 Where partial nature hath already bound 
 
 A brighter circlet — radiant beauty's own — 
 
 I had been proud to see thee proud of it — 
 
 So for the donor thou had'st ta'en the gift, 
 
 Not for the gift ta'en him. Could I have poured 
 
 The wealth of richest Croesus in thy lap, 
 
 I had been blest to see thee scatter it, 
 
 So I were still thy riches paramount. 
 Julia. Know you me, sir ? 
 Clip. I do ! On Monday week 
 
 We were to wed, and are, so you're content 
 
 The day that weds, wives you to be widowed. Take 
 
 The privilege of my wife ; be Lady CUfford ! 
 
 Outshine thy title in the wearing ou't ! 
 
 My coffers, lands, are all at thy command ; 
 
 Wear all ! but, for myself, she wears not me, 
 
 " Although the coveted of every eye," 
 
 Who would not wear me for myself alone, {crosses, l.) 
 Julia. And do you carry it so proudly, sir ? 
 Clip. Proudly, but still more sorrowfully, lady ! 
 
 I'll lead thee to the church on Monday week. 
 
 Till then, farewell ! and then— farewell forever ! {takes off his 
 hat) 
 
 Oh, Julia, I have ventured for thy love, 
 
ACT II.T THE HUNCHBACK. 33 
 
 As the bold merchant, who, for only hope 
 
 Of some rich gain, all former gains will risk ! 
 
 Before I asked a portion of thy heart, 
 
 I periled all my own, and now, all's lost ! 
 
 [£xU. L. 1 E. ^' MoBV 8 follows him.'^ 
 Julia. Helen ! (Helen re-enters.) 
 Helen. What ails you, sweet 1 , 
 
 Julia. I cannot biea the — quick, loose my giidle, oh! {faints. Wal- 
 ter «??<;? He ARTWELL, come forward ) 
 Walt. Good M.isl;^r Heartwell, lielp to tnke her in. 
 
 Whilst I make after him — and look to her ! 
 
 Unlucky chance that took me out of town ! 
 
 [Hxit Walter, l. 1 e. Heartwell bears off Julia, r. 2 e., Helen fol- 
 
 loiving. 
 
 SCENE lll^—The street. 
 Enter Clifford, l., and Stephen, r., meeting. 
 
 Stephen. Letters, Sir Thomas. 
 
 Clif. Take them home again ; 
 
 I shall not read them now. 
 
 Steph. Your pardon, sir, 
 
 But there is one directed strangely, {examining it.) • 
 
 Clif. How 1 
 
 Steph. " To Master Clifford, gentleman; now styled 
 Sir Thomas Chfford, baronet." 
 
 Clif. Indeed ! 
 
 Whence comes that letter 1 
 
 Steph. From abroad ! 
 
 Clif. Which is it 1 
 
 .Steph. So please you, this. Sir Thomas. 
 
 .'CiLiF, Give it to me. {fokes it and crosses, l,, reading.) 
 
 Steph. {aside). That letter brings not news to wish him joy upon. If 
 he was disturbed before, which I guessed by his looks he was, he is not 
 more at ease now. His hand to his head ! A most unwelcome letter ! 
 If it brings him news of disaster, fortune does not give him his deserts ; 
 for never waited servant upon a kinder master. • 
 
 Clif. Stephen ! 
 
 Steph. Sir Thomas ! 
 
 Clif. From my door remove 
 
 The plate that bears my name. 
 
 Steph. The plate, Sir Thomas 1 
 
 Clif. The plate. Collect my servants and instruct them 
 All to make out their claims unto the end 
 Of their respective terms, and give them in 
 To my steward. Him and them apprise, good fellow. 
 That I keep house no more. " As you go home, 
 " Call at my coachmaker's, and bid him stop 
 " The carriage I bespoke. The one I have 
 " Send with my horses to the mart whereat 
 "Such things are sold by auction — they're for Sale. 
 " Pack up my wardrobe — have my trunks conveyed 
 " To the inn in the next street ' — and when that's done, 
 
 * Scene 2 in the Union Square version. 
 
34 THE HUNCHBACK. "{aCT II. 
 
 Go to my tradesmen, and collect their bills, 
 
 And bring them to me at the inn. 
 Steph. The inn ? 
 
 Clip. Yes ; T go home no more. Why, what's the matter ? 
 
 What has fallen out to make your eyes fill up 1 ' 
 
 You'll get another place. I'll certify 
 
 You're honest and industrious, and all 
 
 That a servant ought to be. 
 Steph. I see, Sir Thomas, 
 
 Some great misfortune has befallen you. 
 Clip. - No ! 
 
 I've health ; I've strength ; my reason, Stephen, and 
 
 A heart that's clear in truth, with trust in God. 
 
 No great disaster can befall the man 
 
 Who's still possessed of these ! " Good fellow, leave me I 
 
 " What you would learn, and have a right to know, 
 
 " I would not tell you now. Good Stephen, hence !" 
 
 Mischance has fallen on me — but what of that 1 
 
 Mischance has fallen on many a better man. 
 
 •' I prithee, leave me. I grow sadder while 
 
 " I see the eye with which you view my grief. 
 
 " 'Sdeath, they will out ! I would have been a man, 
 
 " Had you been less a kind and gentle one." 
 
 Now, as you love me, leave me. 
 Steph. Never master 
 
 So well deserved the love of him that served him. 
 
 {Exit Stephen, b. 
 Clip. -Misfortune liketh c'ompany ; it seldom 
 
 Visits its friends alone. Ha, Master Walter, 
 
 And ruffled, too ! I'm in no mood for him. 
 
 Enter Master Walter, l. 
 
 Walt. So, sir — Sir Thomas Clifford — what with speed 
 
 And choler — [ do gasp for want of breath ! 
 Clip. Well, Master Walter 1 
 Walt. You're a rash young man, sir ! 
 
 Strong-headed and wrong-headed — and I fear, sir. 
 
 Not over delicate in that fine sense 
 
 Which men of honor pride themselves upon, sir ! 
 Clip. Well, Master Walter 1 
 Walt. A young woman's heart, sir. 
 
 Is not a stone to carve a posy on ! 
 
 Which knows not what is writ on't — which you may buy, 
 
 Exchange, or sell, sir — keep or give away, sir ; 
 
 It is a richei-. yet a poorer thing ! 
 
 Priceless to him that owns and prizes it ; 
 
 Worthless when owned, not prized ; which makes the man 
 
 That covets it, obtains it, and discards it — 
 
 A fool, if not a villain, sir ! 
 Clip. Well, sir 7 
 
 Walt. You never loved my ward, sir ! 
 Clip. The bright heavens, sir, 
 
 Bear witness that I did ! 
 Walt. The bright heavens, sir, 
 
 Bear not false witness. That you loved her not 
 
 Is clear — for had you loved her, you'd have plucked 
 
ACT II.] THE HUNCHBACK. 35 
 
 Your heart from out your breast, 'ere cast her from your heart ! 
 
 Old as I am, f know what passion is. 
 
 " It is the bUiijiuei 'b heat, sir, which in vain 
 
 '• We look for frost in ! Ice, like you, sir, knows 
 
 But little of such heat !" We're wronged, sir, wronged 1 
 
 " You wear a sword, and so do I ! 
 
 *'Clif. Well, sir! 
 
 ** Walt. You know the use, sir, of a sword ?" 
 
 Clip. " I do. 
 
 ♦' To whip a knave, sir, or an honest man — 
 " A wise man or a fool — atone for wrong, 
 " Or double the amount on't." Master Walter,* 
 Touching your ward, if wrong is done, I think 
 On my side lies the grievance. " I would not say so 
 *' Did I not think so." As for love — look, sir, 
 That hand's a widower's, to its first mate sworn 
 To clasp no second one. As for amends, sir. 
 You're free to get them from a man in whom 
 You've been forestalled by fortune, " in the spite 
 "Which she has vented on him, if you still 
 " Esteem him worth your anger." Please you read 
 That letter, {hands letter) Now, sir, judge if life is dear, 
 To one so much a loser. 
 
 Walt. What, all gone ! 
 
 Thy cousin living they reported dead ! 
 
 Clip. Title and land, sir, unto which, add love ; 
 
 All gone, save life — and honor — which, ere I'll lose, 
 I'll let the other go ! 
 
 Walt. We're public here. 
 
 And may be interrupted. Let us seek 
 Some spot of privacy. Your letter, sir ! (pives it back) 
 Tho' fortune slights you, I'll not slight you ! Not 
 Your title or the lack of it I heed. 
 Whether upon the score of love or hate. 
 With you, and you alone, I settle, sir ! 
 We've gone too far. 'Twere folly now to part 
 Without a reckoning. 
 
 Clip. Just as you please. 
 
 Walt. Yoa've done a noble lady wrong. 
 
 Clip. That lady 
 
 Has done me wrong. 
 
 Walt. Go to ! Thou art a boy 
 
 Fit to be trusted with a plaything, not 
 A woman's heart ! Thou know'st not what it is ! 
 Which I will soon prove to thee, soon as we find 
 Convenient place. Come on, sir ! you shall get 
 A lesson that shall serve you for the rest 
 0' your life. I'll make you own, her, sir, a piece 
 Of Nature's handiwork, as costly, free 
 From bias, flaw, and fair as ever j^et 
 Her cunning hand turned out. Come on, sir — come ! 
 
 [Exeunt, l. 
 
 CURTAIN.f 
 
 ♦ Clifford's reply commences here in the representation— his cue being, Wronged, sir^ 
 wrong ■<! ! 
 
 t r.iis Scene ends Act III. in the U nion Square version, and the Fourth Act 
 commences with Scene 2 of the next Act. The first Scene is entirely omitted in that 
 version, and I have seen it done also where the original version was played. 
 
30 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT II 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. — A drawing-room. 
 
 Enter Lord Tinsel and the Earl of Rochdale, l. 
 
 Tinsel. Refuse a lord ! A saucy lady, this . 
 I scarce can credit it. 
 
 RocH. She'll change her mind. 
 
 My agent, Master Walter, is her guardian. 
 
 Tin. How can you keep that Hunchback in his office 7 
 He mocks you. 
 
 RocH. He is useful. Never heed him. 
 
 My offer now do I present through him. 
 He has the title-deeds of my estates. 
 She'll listen to their wooing. I must have her, 
 Not that I love her, but that all allow 
 She's fairest of the fair. 
 
 Tin. Distinguish well ; 
 
 'Twere most unseemly for a lord to love ! 
 Leave that to commoners. 'Tis vulgar. She's 
 Betrothed, you tell me, to Sir Thomas Clifford 1 
 
 RocH. Yes ! 
 
 Tin. That a commoner should thwart a lord! 
 
 Yet not a commoner. A baronet 
 Is fish and flesh. Nine parts plebeian, and 
 Patrician in the tenth. Sir Thomas Clifford ! 
 A man, they say, of brains. I abhor brains 
 As I do tools ! They're things mechanical. 
 So far as we above our forefathers — 
 They to their brains did owe their titles as 
 Do lawyers, doctors. We to nothing owe them, 
 Which makes us far the nobler. 
 
 RocH. Is it so ? 
 
 Tin. Believe me. You shall profit by my training ; 
 You grow a lord apace. I saw you meet 
 A bevy of your former friends, who fain 
 Had shaken hands with you. You gave them fingers I 
 You're now another man. Yonr house is changed — 
 Your table changed — your retinue — your horse — 
 Where once you rode a hack, you now back blood — 
 Befits it then you also change your friends ! 
 
 Enter Williams, l. 
 
 Williams. A gentleman would see your Lordship. 
 
 Tin. Sir ? 
 
 What's that 1 {crosses to Williams.) 
 
 WiL. A gentleman would see his Lordship ! 
 
 Tin. How know you, sir, his Lordship is at home 1 
 Is he at home because he goes not out 1 
 He's not at home, though there you see him, sir, 
 Unless he certify that he's at home ! 
 Bring up the name of the gentleman, and then 
 Your lord will know if he's at home or not. 
 
 [Exit WilliAmSj l. 
 
ACT m.] THE HUNCHBA.CK. 37 
 
 Your man was porter to some merchant's door, 
 Who never taught him better breeding than 
 To speak the vulgar truth. Well, sir ? 
 
 Williams re-enters. 
 
 ^"'. His name, 
 
 So please your Lordship, Markham. 
 
 Tix. Do you know 
 
 The thing? 
 
 RocH. Right well. I' faith, a hearty fellow. 
 
 Son to a worthy tradesman, "who would do 
 " Great things with little means ; so entered him 
 " In the Temple. A good fellow, on ray life, 
 " Naught smacking of his stock !" 
 
 Tin. You've said enough ! 
 
 His Lordship's not at home. [Exit Williams, l- 
 
 " We do not go 
 " By hearts, but orders !" Had he family- 
 Blood — tho' it only were a drop — his heart 
 Would pass for something ; lacking such desert, 
 Were it ten times the heart it is, 'tis naught ! 
 
 Williams re-enters. 
 
 WiL. One Master Jones hath asked to see your Lordship, 
 
 Tin. And what was your reply to Master Jones 1 
 
 WiL. I knew not if his Lordship was at home. 
 
 Tin. You'll do. Who's Master Jones ? 
 
 1^0 OH. A curate's son. 
 
 Tin. a curate's 1 Better be a yeoman's son ! 
 
 " Were it the rector's son, he might be known, 
 
 " Because the rector is a rising man, 
 
 " And may become a bishop. He goes light. 
 
 " The curate ever hath a loaded back. 
 
 "He may be called the yeoman of the church 
 
 " That sweating does his work, and drudges on 
 
 " While lives the hopeful rector at his ease." 
 
 How made you his acquaintance, pray 1 
 RocH. We read 
 
 Latin and Greek together. 
 Tin. Dropping them — 
 
 As, now that you're a lord, of course you've done- 
 Drop him. You'll say his Lordship's not at home. 
 WiL. So please your Lordship, I forgot to say, 
 
 One Richard Cricket likewise is below. 
 Tin. Who ? Richard Cricket % You must see him, Rochdale I 
 
 A noble little fellow. A great man, sir ! 
 
 Not knowing whom, you would be nobody ! 
 
 I won five thousand pounds by him ! 
 RocH. Who is he 1 
 
 I never heard of him ! 
 Tin. What, never heard 
 
 Of Richard Cricket ! never heard of him 1 
 
 Why, he's the jockey of Newmarket ; you 
 
 May win a cup by him, or else a sweepstakes. 
 
 I bade him call upon you. You must see him. 
 
38 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT III. 
 
 His Lordship is at home to Richard Cricket. 
 RocH. Bid him wait in the ante-room. (Williams ^o^« L.) 
 Tin. The ante-room 1 
 
 The best room in your house ! You do not kno\y 
 The use of Richard Cricket ! Show him, sir, 
 Into the drawing-room. [Hxit Williams, l. 
 
 Your Lordship needs 
 Must keep a racing stud, and you'll do well 
 To make a friend of Richard Cricket. '* Well, sir, 
 " What's that -? 
 
 " Williams re-enters. 
 
 " WiL. So please your Lordship, a petition. 
 
 Tin. Had'st not a service 'mongst the Hottentots 
 
 "Ere thou cam'st hither, friend T Present thy lord 
 
 " With a petition ! At mechanics' doors, 
 
 " At tradesmens', shopkeepers', and merchants' only, 
 
 " Have such things leave to knock. Make thy lord's gate 
 
 " A wicket to a vporkhouse ! Let us see it — 
 
 " Subscriptions to a book of poetry ! 
 
 " Who heads the list 1 Cornelius Tense, A.M. 
 
 " Which means he construes Greek and Latin, works 
 
 " Problems in mathematics, can chop logic, 
 
 " And is a conjurer in philosophy, 
 
 " Both natural and moral. Pshaw ! a man 
 
 " Whom nobody, that is, anybody, knows. 
 
 *' Who, think you, follows him 1 Why, ah M.D., 
 
 " An F.R S., and F.A.S., and then 
 
 " A D.D., Doctor of Divinity, 
 
 ** Ushering in an LL.D , which means 
 
 *' Doctor of Laws — their harmony, no doubt, 
 
 ** The difference of their trades ! There's nothing hero 
 
 " But languages, and sciences, and arts, 
 
 " Not an iota of nobility ! 
 
 " We cannot give our names. Take back the paper, 
 
 " And tell the bearer there's no answer for him— 
 
 " That is the lordly way of saying ' No.' 
 
 " But talking of subscriptions, here is one 
 
 " To which your Lordship may aflSx your name. 
 "RocH. Pra^, who's the object ? 
 " Tin. A most worthy raan ! 
 
 " A man of singular deserts ; a man, 
 
 " In serving whom, your Lordship will serve me— 
 
 " Signor Cantata. 
 " RocH. He's a friend of yours 1 
 
 '* Tin. Oh, no ; I know him hot ! I've not the pleasure ! 
 
 " But Lady Dangle knows him ; she's his friend. 
 
 *' He will oblige us with a set of concerts, 
 
 " Six concerts to the set. — The set thtee guineas. 
 
 " Your Lordship will subscribe 1 
 " RocH. Oh, by all means ! 
 
 " Tin. How many sets of tickets 1 Two at least. ,jt 
 
 " You'll like to take a friend ? I'll set you down 
 " Six guineas to Signor Cantata's concerts.' ' 
 
 And now, my Lord, we'll to him— then we'll ;^alk. 
 RocH. Nay, I would wait the lady's answer. 
 Tin. . Wait! 
 
ACT III.] THE HUXCHBA.CK. 39 
 
 Take an excursion to the country ; let 
 
 Her answer wait for you. 
 RocH. Indeed ! 
 
 Tin. Indeed ! 
 
 Befits a lord naught like indifference. 
 
 Say an estate should fall to you, you'd take it, 
 
 As it concerned more a stander-by 
 
 Than you. As you're a lord, be sure you ever 
 
 Of that make little other men make much of; 
 
 Nor do the thing they do, but right contrary. 
 
 Where the distinction else 'twixt them and you 1 [Exeunt, l. 
 
 SCENE II.* — An apartment in Master Heartwell's home. 
 
 Master Walter discovered, seated l. of table, looking through title-deeds 
 and papers. 
 
 yj k'Li. So falls out every thing as I would have it, 
 
 Exact in place and time. This lord's advances 
 Receives she — as, I augur, in the spleen 
 Of wounded pride she will— my course is clear. 
 She comes — all's well — the tempest rages still. 
 
 Julia enters, l., and paces the room in a state of high eatcitement, 
 
 Julia. What have my eyes to do with water 1 Fire 
 Becomes them better ! (crosses, r.) 
 
 Walt. True ! 
 
 Julia. Yet, must I weep 
 
 To be so monitor'd, and by a man ! 
 A man that was my slave ! whom I have seen 
 Kneel at my feet from morn till noon, content 
 With leave to only gaze upon my face, {crosses, l., 
 " And tell me what he read there — till the page 
 *' I knew by heart, I 'gan to doubt I knew 
 " Emblazoned by the comment of his tongue !" 
 And he to lesson me ! Let him come here 
 On Monday week ! He ne'er leads me to church ! 
 " I would not profit by his rank or wealth, 
 " Tho' kings might call him cousin, for their sake!" 
 I'll show him I have pride! (crosses, r.) 
 
 Walt. You're very right ! 
 
 Julia. He would have had to-day our wedding day ! 
 
 I fixed a month from this. He prayed and prayed — 
 I dropped a week. He prayed and prayed the more — 
 I dropped a second one. Still more he prayed ! 
 And I took off another week — and now 
 I have his leave to wed or not to wed ! 
 He'll see that I have pride ! 
 
 Walt. And so he ought 
 
 Julia. Oh ! for some way to bring hini to my feet ! 
 
 But he should lie there ! Why, 'twill go abroad 
 That he cast me off ! That there should live 
 
 * In tlie Uixlon Square version the Fourth Act commences with this Scene, \rbkh 
 M laid in He^well's Ubrary. 
 
40 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT III. 
 
 The ifian could say so ! Or that I should live 
 
 To be the leavings of a man ! (crosses, l.) 
 Walt. Thy case 
 
 I own a hard one. 
 Julia. Hard ! 'Twill drive me mad ! 
 
 His wealth and title ! I refused a lord — 
 
 I did ! that privily implored my hand — 
 
 And never cared to tell him on't ! So much 
 
 I hate him now, that lord should not in vain I 
 
 Implore my hand again ! ' 
 
 Walt.. You'd give it him 1 {rising.) 
 
 Julia. I would ! 
 
 Walt. You'd wed that lord ? (advances, l.) \ 
 
 Julia (r.). That lord I'd wed — or any other lord — 
 
 Only to show him I could wed above him ! 
 Walt. Give me your hand and word to that. 
 Julia. There ! Take 
 
 My hand and word ! 
 Walt. That lord hath offered you 
 
 His hand again, 
 Julia. He has 1 
 
 Walt. Your father knows it ; he approves of him. 
 
 There are the title-deeds of the estates, (^points to table) 
 
 Sent for my jealous scrutiny. All sound — 
 
 No flaw or speck, that e'en the lynx-eyed law 
 
 Itself could find. A lord of many lands ! 
 
 In Berkshire half a county ; and the same 
 
 In Wiltshire, and in Lancashire ! Across 
 
 The Irish Sea, a principality ! 
 
 And not a rood with bond or lien on it ! 
 
 Wilt give that lord a wife 1 Wilt make thyself 
 
 A countess 1 Here's the proffer of his hand, (shows letter) 
 
 Write thou content, and wear a coronet f 
 Julia {eagerly). Give me the paper ! 
 
 Walt. There ! Here's pen and ink. ( goes up l. of 
 
 table and lays the letter down for her to sign) 
 
 Sit down, [points to chair, r. of table- -Tulia takes the seat) Why 
 do you pause 1 A flourish of 
 
 The pen, and you're a countess. 
 Julia. '' My poor brain 
 
 " Whirls round and round !" I would not wed him'now 
 
 Were he more lowlv at my feet to sue 
 
 Than e'er he did. 
 Walt. Wed whom? 
 
 Julia. Sir Thomas Clifford ! 
 
 Walt. You're right. 
 Julia, " His rank and wealth are roots to doubt, 
 
 '* And while they lasted, still the weed would grow, 
 
 " Howe'er you plucked it. No! That's o'er — that's done !'*' 
 
 Was never lady wronged so foul as I ! (weeps.) 
 Walt. Thou'rt to be pitied, 
 3vh\A. (with offended pride). Pitied! Not so bad 
 
 As that. 
 Walt. Indeed thou art, to love the man 
 
 That spurns thee ! 
 Julia. Love him ! Love ! If hate could find 
 
 A word more harsh than its own name, I'd take it, 
 
ACT III.] THE HU^JCHBACK. 41 
 
 To speak the love I bear him ! {weeps.) 
 
 Walt, Write thy own name, 
 
 And show how near akin thy hate's to hate ! 
 
 Julia {writes). 'Tis done ! 
 
 Walt. 'Tis well ! I'll come to you anon. 
 
 [Takes the paper hastily, and exits, L. 2 B. 
 
 Julia (alone). I'm glad 'tis done ! I'm very glad 'tis done! 
 I've done the thing I should. From my disgrace 
 This lord shall lift me 'bove the reach of scorn — 
 " That idly wags its tongue, where wealth and state 
 " Need only beckon to have crowds to laud!" 
 Then how the tables change ! The hand he spurned 
 His betters take ! Let me remember that ! 
 I'll grace my rank ! I will ! I'll carry it 
 As I were born to it ! I warrant none 
 Shall say it fits me not — but one and all 
 Confess I wear it bravely, as I ought. 
 And he shall hear it ! ay, and he shall see it I 
 I will roll by him in an equipage 
 Would mortgage his estate — but he shall own 
 His slight of me was my advancement ! Love me ? 
 He never loved me ! if he had he ne'er 
 Had given me up ! Love's not a spider's web, 
 But fit to mesh a fly — that you can break 
 By only blowing on't ! He never loved me ! 
 He knows not what love is — or, if he does, 
 He has not been o'er chary of his peace ! 
 And that he'll find when I'm another's wife, {a pause) 
 Lost ! — lost to him forever ! (rises, and advances) Tears again ! 
 Why should I weep for him ? Who make their woes 
 Deserve them ! What have I to do with tears ? 
 
 JEnter Helen, l. 
 
 Helen. News, Juha, news ! 
 
 Julia. What ! Is't about Sir Thomas 1 
 
 Helen. Sir Thomas, say you 1 He's no more Sir Thomas ! 
 
 That cousin lives, as heir to whom, his wealth 
 
 And title came to him. 
 Julia. Was he not dead 1 
 
 Helen. No more than I am dead. 
 
 Julia. I would 'twere not so I (thet/ cross.) 
 
 Helen. What say you, Julia ? 
 Julia. Nothing ! 
 
 " Helen. I could kiss 
 
 " That cousin ! couldn't you. Julia 1 
 " JuLLA.. Wherefore ? 
 
 "Helen. Why, 
 
 " For coming back to life again, as 'twere 
 
 " Upon his cousin, to revenge you. 
 "Julia. Helen!" 
 
 Helen (with merry irony throughout). Indeed, 'tis true. With what a 
 sorry grace 
 
 The gentleman will bear himself without 
 
 His title ! Master Clifford ! Have you not 
 
 Some token to return him 1 Some love-letter 1 
 
 Some brooch ] Some pin 1 Some anything 1 I'll be 
 
42 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT III, 
 
 Your messenger, for nothing but the pleasure 
 
 Of calling him plain " Master Cliflfbrd." 
 Julia {angrily, and offended). Helen! 
 
 Helen. Or has he aught of thine % Write to him, Julia, 
 
 Demanding it. Do, Julia, if you love me ; 
 
 And I'll direct it in a schoolboy's hand. 
 
 As round as I can write " To Master Cliflford." 
 Julia. Helen! 
 
 Helen. I'll think of fifty thousand ways 
 
 To mortify him ! I've a twentieth cousin, 
 
 A care-for-naught at mischief. Him I'll set, 
 
 With twenty other madcaps like himself. 
 
 To walk the streets the traitor most frequents, 
 
 And give him salutation as he passes — 
 
 " How do you, Master Clifford '?" 
 Julia {highly incensed). Helen ! 
 
 Helen. Bless me ! 
 
 Julia. I hate you, Helen ! {she crosses to k., and sinks on chair.) 
 
 Enter Modus, l. 1 e. 
 
 Mod. Joy for you, fair lady! 
 
 Our baronet is now plain gentleman, 
 And hardly that— not master of the means 
 To bear himself as such ! The kinsman lives 
 Whose only rumored death gave wealth to him, 
 And title. A hard creditor he proves. 
 Who keeps strict reckoning — will have interest, 
 As well as principal. A ruined man 
 Is now Sir Thomas Clifford. 
 
 Helen. I'm glad on't. 
 
 Mod. And so am I. A scurvy trick it was 
 
 He served you, madam. Use a lady so ! 
 I merely bore with him. I never liked him. 
 
 Helen. No more did I. No, never could I think 
 lie looked his title. 
 
 Mod. No, nor acted it. 
 
 If rightly they report. " He ne'er disbursed 
 
 " To entertain his friends, 'tis broadly said, 
 
 " A hundred pounds in the year." He was most poor 
 
 In the appointments of a man of rank, 
 
 Possessing wealth like his. " His horses, hacks ! 
 
 ♦'His gentleman, a footman ! and his footman, 
 
 " A groom ! The sports that men of quality 
 
 " And spirit countenance, he kept aloof from ; 
 
 " From scruple of economy, not taste — 
 
 " As facing and the like." In brief, he lacked 
 
 Those shining points, that more than name, denote 
 
 High breeding ; and, moreover, was a man 
 
 Of very shallow learning. 
 
 Julia {rising^ angrily). Silence, sir ! 
 
 For shame ! 
 
 Helen. Why, Julia ? 
 
 Julia {advancing). Speak not to me ! Poor, 
 
 Most poor I I tell you, sir, he was the making 
 Of fifty gentlemen — each one of whom 
 Were more than peer for thee I His title, sir, 
 
A.CT III.] THE HUNCHBACK. 4B 
 
 Lent him no grace he did not pay it back ! 
 
 Tho' it had been the highest of the high, 
 
 He would have looked it, felt it, acted it. 
 
 As thou couldst ne'er have done ! When found you out 
 
 You liked him not 1 It was not e'er to-day ! 
 
 " Or that base spirit I must reckon yours, 
 
 " Which smiles where it would scowl — can stoop to hate, 
 
 " And fear to show it !' He was your better, sir, 
 
 And is ! Ay, is ! though stripped of rank and wealth, 
 
 His nature's 'bove our fortune's love or spite, 
 
 To blazon or to blur it 1 (retiring up c.) 
 
 Mod. {crosses to Helen). I was told 
 
 Much to disparage him — I know not wherefore. 
 
 Helen. And so was I, and know as much the cause. (Modus atui 
 Helen ffo up, c. Julia comes down, r.) 
 
 Ee-enter Master Walter, with parchments, 
 
 Walt. Joy, my Julia! {crosses to her.) 
 
 Impatient love has foresight ! Lo you here. 
 
 The marriage deed's filled up, except a blank 
 
 To write your jointure. What you will, my girl! 
 
 Is this a lover ? Look ! Three thousand pounds 
 
 Per annum for your private charges ! Ha ! 
 
 There's pin money ! Is this a lover 1 Mark 
 
 What acres, forests, tenements, are taxed 
 
 For your revenue, and so set apait 
 
 That finger cannot touch them, save thine own. (Julia striving 
 to conceal her emotion, sinks on chair, r.) 
 
 Is this a lover ? What good fortune's thine! 
 
 Thou dost not speak ; but 'tis the w;ay with joy ! 
 
 With richest heart, it has the poorest tongue ! (Modus cornea 
 down R. of Julia.) 
 Mod. What great good fortune's this you speak of, sir 1 
 Walt. A coronet, Master Modus ! You behold 
 
 The wife elect, sir, of no less a man, 
 
 Than the new Earl of Rochdale— heir of him. 
 
 That's recently deceased. (Modus retires, and rejoins Helen.) 
 " Helen. My dearest Julia, 
 
 " Much joy to you ! 
 " Mod. All good attend you, ]\iadam 1 
 
 " Walt." This letter brings excuses from his Lordship, 
 
 Whose absence it accounts for. . He repairs 
 
 To his estate in Lancashire, and thither 
 
 We follow. , . J • . , vA- 
 
 JuLiA. When, sir 1 (rises. Helen iand Modus ai back, r., 
 
 converse.) 
 Walt. Now. This very hour ! 
 
 Julia. This very hour ! Oh, cruel, fatal haste! 
 Walt. i.l. o). Oh, cruel, fatal haste ! What meanest thoul 
 
 Have I done wrong to do thy bidding, then 1 
 
 I've done no more. Thou wast an off-cast bride, 
 
 And would' St be an aflSanced one— thou art so ! 
 
 Thou'dst have the slight that marked thee out for scorn 
 
 Converted to a means of gracing thee — 
 
 It is so ! " If our wishes come too soon, 
 
 ' What can make sure of welcome 1 In my zeal 
 
44 THE HUNCHBACK. [ACT III, 
 
 " To win thee thine, thou know'st, at any time 
 " I'd play the steed, whose will to serve his lord 
 "With his last breath gives his last bound for him ! 
 " Since only noon have dispatched what well 
 " Had kept a brace of clerks, and more, on foot — 
 " And then, perhaps, had been to do again — 
 " Not finished sure, complete — the compact firm, 
 "As fate itself had sealed it! 
 
 " Julia. Give you thanks ! 
 
 " Tho' 'twere my death ! my death ! 
 
 "Walt. Thy death! Indeed, 
 
 " For happiness like this, one well might die !" 
 Take thy lord's letter. 
 
 Enter Thomas with letter, l. 1 e. 
 
 Wein 
 Thom. This letter, sir, 
 
 The gentleman that served Sir Thomas Clifford — 
 
 Or him that was Sir Thomas — gave to me, 
 
 For Mistress Julia. 
 Julia. Give it me ! {throwing away the one she holds.) 
 
 Walt, {snatching it). For what ! [Exit Thomas, l. 1 e. 
 
 Would'st read it 1 He's a bankrupt ! stripped of title, 
 
 House, chattels, lands and all ! A naked bankrupt, 
 
 With neither purse nor trust ! Would'st read his letter 1 
 
 A beggar ! Yea, a beggar ! fasts, unless 
 
 He dines on alms ! " How durst he send thee a letter 1 
 
 " A fellow cut on this hand, and on that, 
 
 " Bows, and is cut again, and bows again ! 
 
 " Who pays you fifty smiles for half a one — 
 
 " And that given grudgingly." To send you a letter ! 
 
 I burst with choler. Thus I treat his letter ! {tears and throws 
 it on the ground, and crosses to and fro) 
 
 So ! I was wrong to let him ruffle me ; 
 
 He is not worth the spending anger on ! 
 
 I prithee. Master Modus, use dispatch, (Modus and Helen 
 advance) 
 
 And presently make ready for our ride. 
 
 You, Helen, to my Julia look — a change 
 
 Of dresses will suffice. She must have new ones, 
 
 Matches for her new state ! Haste, friends ! 
 
 [Exit Modus, k. 1 e. Helen pauses at entrance. 
 
 My Julia ! 
 
 Why stand you poring there upon the ground ? 
 
 Time flies. Your rise astounds you % Never heed — 
 
 You'll play my lady countess like a queen ! 
 
 CURTAIN.* 
 
 * This Scene ends the Fourth Act in the Union Square venioQ. 
 
ACT IT.] THE HUNCHBACK. 46 
 
 ACT IV * 
 
 SCENE I. — A room in the Earl of Rochdalb'S. 
 
 Enter Helen, l. c. 
 
 Helen. I'm weary wandering from room to room ; 
 A castle after all is but a house — 
 The dullest one when lacking company ! 
 Were I at home I could be company 
 Unto myself. " I see not Master Walter. 
 " He's ever with his ward. I see not her. 
 " By Master Walter will she bide, alone. 
 " My father stops in town. I can't see him. 
 *• My cousin makes his books his company." 
 I'll go to bed and sleep. No — I'll stay up 
 And plague my cousin into making love! 
 For that he loves me shrewdly I suspect. 
 How dull he is that hath not sense to see 
 What lies before him, and he'd like to find ! 
 I'll change my treatment of him — cross him, where 
 Before I used to humor him. He comes, 
 Poring upon a book. 
 
 Enter Modus, l. c, reading booh 
 
 What's that you read 1 
 Mod. Latin, sweet cousin. 
 Helen. 'Tis a naughty tongue 
 
 I fear, and teaches men to lie. 
 Mod. To lie! 
 
 Helen. You study it. You call your cousin sweet, 
 
 And treat her as you would a crab. " As sour 
 
 " 'Twould seem you think her, so you covet her ! 
 
 " Why, how the monster stares, and looks about!" 
 
 You construe Latin, and can't construe that ? 
 Mod. I never studied women. 
 Helen. No ; nor men. 
 
 Else would you better know their ways ; nor read 
 
 In presence of a lady, {strikes the book from his hand.) 
 Mod. Right, you say, 
 
 And well you served me, cousin, so to strike 
 
 The volume from my hand. I own my fault. 
 
 So please you — may I pick it up again ? 
 
 I'll put it in my pocket I 
 Helen. Pick it up. 
 
 {aside) He fears me as I were his grandmother ! 
 
 {aloud) What is the book 1 
 Mod. 'Tis Ovid's Art of Love. 
 
 Helen. That Ovid was a fool ! 
 Mod. In what 1 
 
 Helen. In that; 
 
 ♦ The Fifth Act in the Union Square version commences with this Scene, which is 
 transferred to a grand saloon in the Earl of ^Boohdale's house— and forms also the 
 Scene for the Sixth and last Act. 
 
46 THE HUNCHBACK. [a.CT IV. 
 
 To call that thing an art, which art is none. 
 Mod. And is not love an art 1 
 Helen. Are yon a fool, 
 
 As well as Ovid ? Love an art 7 No art 
 
 But taketh time and pains to learn. Love coijaw 
 
 With neither. Is't to hoard such grain as that, t 
 
 You went to college 1 Better stay at home, 
 
 And study homely English. 
 Mod. Nay, you know not 
 
 The argument. 
 Helen. I don't ? I know it better 
 
 Than ever Ovid did ! " The face — the form — 
 
 •' The heart — the mind we fancy, cousin ; that's 
 
 •' The argument ! Why, cousin, you know nothing.** 
 
 Suppose a lady were in love with thee, 
 
 Could'st thou, by Ovid, cousin, find it out? 
 
 Could'st find it out, was't thou in love thyself 7 
 
 Could Ovid, cousin, teach thee to make love 1 
 
 I could, that never read him. You begin 
 
 With melancholy, then to sadness, then 
 
 To sickness ; then to dying — but not die ! 
 
 She would not let thee, were she of my mind ; 
 
 She'd take compassion on thee. Then for hope ; 
 
 From hope to confidence ; from confidence 
 
 To boldness — then you'd speak ; at first entreat ; 
 
 Then urge ; then flout ; then argue ; then enforce ; 
 
 Make prisoner of her hand : besiege her waist ; 
 
 Threaten her lips with storming ; keep thy word 
 
 And carry her ! My sampler 'gainst thy Ovid ! {crosses, l.) 
 
 Why, cousin, are you frightened, that you stand 
 
 As you were stricken dumb 1 The case is clear, 
 
 You are no soldier. You'll ne'er win a battle. 
 
 You care too much for blows ! 
 Mod. You wrong me there. 
 
 At school I was the champion of my form, 
 
 And since I went to college 
 
 Helen. That for college — {snapping h»r fin- 
 
 gers and crossing laughing.') 
 Mod. Nay, hear me ! 
 Helen. Well ? What, since you went to college 1 
 
 " You know what men are set down for who boast 
 
 " Of their own bravery. Go on, brave cousin ! 
 
 " What since you went to college 7 " Was there not 
 
 One Quentin Halworth there ? You know there was, 
 
 And that he was your master ! 
 Mod. He my master ! 
 
 Thrice was he worsted by me. 
 Helen. Still was he 
 
 Your master. 
 Mod. He allowed I had the best ! 
 
 Allowed it, mark me ! Nor to me alone, 
 
 But to twenty I could name. 
 Helen. And mastered you 
 
 At last ! Confess it, cousin, 'tis the truth. 
 
 A proctor's daughter you did both afiect — 
 
 Look at me and deny it ! Of the twain 
 
 She more affected you j — I've caught :you now, 
 
ACT IT.] THE HimCHBACK. 47 
 
 '•' Bold cousin ! Mark you ! Opportunity " — 
 
 An opportunity she gave you, sir — 
 
 Deny it if you can ! — but though to others, 
 
 When you discoursed of her, you were a flame, 
 
 To her you were a wick that would not light, 
 
 Though held in the very fire ! And so he won her— 
 
 Won her because he wooed her like a man, 
 
 For all your cuffings, cuffing you again 
 
 With most usurious interest. Now, sir, 
 
 Protest that you are valiant ! 
 Mod. Cousin Helen ! 
 
 HelexV . Well, sir 1 
 
 Mod. The tale is all a forgery ! 
 
 Helen. A forgery ! 
 Mod. From first to last ; ne'er spoke I • 
 
 To a proctor's daughter while I was at college. 
 Helf.n. It was a scrivener's then — or somebody's. 
 
 But what concerns it whose ? Enough, you loved her, 
 
 And, shame upon you, let another take her ! 
 Mod. Cousin, I tell you, if you'll only hear me, 
 
 I loved no woman while I was at college — 
 
 Save one, and her I fancied ere I went there. 
 Helen. Indeed ! {aside) Now I'll retreat, if he's advancing. 
 
 Comes he not on 1 Oh, what a stock's the man ! 
 
 {aloud) Well, cousin? 
 Mod. Well ? What more would'st have me say 1 
 
 I think I've said enough. 
 Helen. And so think I. 
 
 I did but jest with you. You are not angry 1 
 
 Shake hands ! {shaking timidly) Why, cousin, do you squeeze me 
 sol 
 Mod. {letting Jier go). I swear I squeezed you not ! 
 Helen. You did not 1 
 
 Mod. No, 
 
 I'll die if I did ! 
 Helen. Why, then you did not, cousin ; 
 
 So let's shake hands again, {as before) Oh, go, and now 
 
 Read Ovid ! Cousin, will you tell me one thing : 
 
 Wore lovers ruffs in Master Ovid's time 1 
 
 Behoved him teach them, then, to put them on ; — 
 
 And that you have to learn. Hold up your head ! 
 
 Why, cousin, how you blush. Plague on the ruff"! 
 
 \ cannot give't a set. You're blushing still ! 
 
 *' Why do you blush, dear cousin ? So, 'twill beat me' 
 
 " I'll give it up. 
 •' Mod. Nay, prithee, don't — try on ! 
 
 " Helen. And if I do, I fear you'll think me bold. 
 *'MoD For what? 
 
 " H^len. To trust my face so near to thine. 
 
 " Mod. I know not what you mean. 
 " Helen. I'm glad you don't I" 
 
 Cousin, I own right well behaved you are. 
 
 Most marvellously well behaved ! They've bred 
 
 You well at college. With another man 
 
 My lips would be in danger ! Hang the ruff ! 
 Mod. Nay, give it up, nor plague thyself, dear cousin. 
 
48 THK HUNCHBACK. [aCT IV, 
 
 Helen. Dear fool ! {throwing down the ruff pettishly') I swear the ruff 
 is good for just 
 As little as its master ! There ! — 'tis spoiled — 
 You'll have to get another. Hie for it, 
 And wear it in the fashion of a wisp, 
 Ere I adjust it for thee ! Farewell, cousin ! 
 You've need to study Ovid's Art of Love. [Exit, r. 1 e. 
 
 Mod. Went she in anger? I will follow her. {advances, then pauses} 
 No, I will not ! Heigho ! I love my cousin ! 
 Oh, would that she loved me ! Why did she taunt me 
 With backwardness in love ? What could she mean 1 
 Sees she I love her, and so laughs at me, 
 Because I lack the front to woo her 7 {she comes back and pauses) 
 Nay, 
 • I'll woo her then ! Her lips shall be in danger 
 
 When next she trusts them near me ! Looked she at me 
 
 To-day as never did she look before ! 
 
 *' A bold heart, Master Modus ! 'Tis a saying, 
 
 " A faint one never won fair lady yet. 
 
 " I'll woo my cousin, come what will on't. Yes !" {begins to 
 
 read, pauses, and thrusts book into his bosom) 
 Hang Ovid's Art of Love ! I'll woo my cousin ! 
 
 [Uxit, L. 1 E. Helen, laughing merrily, exits, r. 1 e. 
 
 SCENE II. — The Banqueting Room in the Eael of Rochdale's mansion.* 
 
 Enter Master Walter and Julia, l. u. e. He walks across to a chair^ 
 brings it forward, and sits, e. c. ; she stands, l. 
 
 Walt. This is the banqueting room. Thou see'st as far 
 
 It leaves the last behind as that excels 
 
 The former ones. All is proportion here 
 
 And harmony ! Observe ! The massy pillars 
 
 May well look proud to bear the lofty dome. 
 
 " You mark those full-length portraits 1 They're the heads, 
 
 " The stately heads of his ancestral line. 
 
 " Here o'er the feast they aptly still preside ! 
 
 " Mark those medallions ! Stand they forth or not 
 
 " In bold and fair relief ?" Is not this brave ? 
 Julia {abstractedly). It is. 
 Walt. It should be so. To cheer the blood 
 
 That flows in noble veins is made the feast 
 
 That gladdens here ! " You see this drapery 1 
 
 " 'Tis richest velvet! Fringe and tassels gold ! 
 
 " Is not this costly? 
 " Julia. Yes. 
 
 " Walt. And chaste, the while 1 
 
 " Both chaste and costly 1 
 ''Julia. Yes." 
 
 Walt, {gets up and crosses to l., points off l. for mirror). Come hither ! 
 There's a mirror for you. See! 
 
 One sheet from floor to ceiling ! Look into it. 
 
 Salute its mistress ! Dost not know her 1 
 Julia {sighing deeply). Yes. 
 
 '' Walt. And sighest thou to know her 1 Wait until 
 
 * There is no change in the Union Square version. 
 
ACT IV.] TIIK HUNCUBVCK. 49 
 
 " To-moriow, wlien the banquet sliall be spread 
 
 '• In the fair hall ; the guests ah-eady bid, 
 
 " Around it ; here her lord, and there herself, 
 
 *' Presiding o'er the cheer that hails him bridegroom 
 
 " And her the happy bride '. Dost .hear me ] 
 
 *' Julia. (sigJiing still more deeply). Yes." 
 
 Walt. *' These are the day-rooms only we have seen, 
 " For public and domestic uses kept." 
 
 I'll show you now the lodging rooms, {goes, then turns mid ob- 
 serves .Julia stan ling perfectly abstracted) You're tired. 
 Let it be till after dim n- tlien. Yet one 
 I'd like thee much to see — the bridal chamber. (Julia starts, 
 
 crosses her hands upon her breast, and looks ttptvards) 
 I see you're tired ; yet is it worth the viewing, 
 If only for the tapestry, which shows 
 The needle like the pencil glow with life, {she sits on the chair 
 
 Master Walter has risen from, r. c. He l.) 
 The story's of a page Avho loved the dame 
 He served — a princess ! Love's a heedless thing ! 
 That never takes account of obstacles ; 
 Makes plains of mountains, rivulets of seas, 
 That part it from its wish. So proved the page, 
 Who from a state so lowly looked so high — 
 But love's a greater lackwit still than this. 
 Say it aspires — that's gain ! Love stoops — that's loss ! 
 You know what comes. The ])rincess loved the page. 
 Shall I go on, or here leave off 1 
 
 Julia. Go on. 
 
 Walt. Each side of the chamber shows a diflferent stage 
 Of this fond youth and fonder lady's love.* 
 " Fir.st — no, it is not that. 
 
 " Julia. Oh, recollect ! 
 
 *' Walt. And yet it is ! 
 . " Julia. No doubt it is. What is't '? 
 
 " Walt. He holds to her a salver, with a cup ; 
 
 *' His cheek more mantling with his passion, than 
 •■' The cup with the ruby wine. She heeds him not, 
 "For too great heed of him — but seems to.hold 
 " Debate betwixt her passion and her pride, 
 " That's like to lose the day. You read it in 
 " Her vacant eye, knit brow, and parted lips, 
 " Which speak a heart too busy all within 
 " To note what's done without. Like you the tale "? 
 
 " Julia. I list to every word. 
 
 " Walt. The next side paints 
 
 " The page upon his knee. He has told his tale ; 
 
 * In some representations the passages following this are frequently omitted ; 
 where such is the case, the abbreviated dialogue runs thus:— 
 
 Walt. The first side paints their passion in the dawn- 
 In the next side 'tis shining open day — 
 In the third tliere's clouding— I but touch on these 
 To make a long tale brief, and bring thee to 
 The last side. 
 
 Juua. What shows that ? 
 
 Walt. The fate of love 
 
 That will not be advised. The scene's a dungeon ; 
 Its tenant is the page— he lies in fetters. 
 
 Julia. Hard I 
 
 liaiu lb the steel the bauds that put them on I 
 
50 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT IV. 
 
 " And found that, when he lost his heart, he played 
 
 " No losing game ; but won a richer one ! 
 
 " There may you read in him, how love would seem 
 
 " Most humble when most bold — you question which 
 
 " Appears to kiss her hand — his breath or lips ! 
 
 " In her you read ht)w wholly lost is she 
 
 " Who trusts her heart to love. Shall I give o'er 1 
 " Julia. Nay, tell it to the end. Is't melancholy 1 
 *' Walt. To answer that would mar the story. 
 " Julia. Right ! 
 
 '• Walt. The third side now we come to. 
 '* Julia. What shows that 1 
 
 " Walt. The page and princess still. But stands her sire 
 
 " Between them. Stern he grasps his daughter's arm, 
 
 " Whose eyes like fountains play ; while through her tears 
 
 ** Her passion shines, as, through the fountain drops, 
 
 " The sun ! His minions crowd around the page ! 
 
 "They drag him to a dungeon. 
 " Julia. Hapless youth ! 
 
 " Walt. Hapless, indeed, that's twice a captive ! heart 
 
 " And body both in bonds. But that's the chain, 
 
 " Which balance cannot weigh, rule measure, touch 
 
 " Define the texture of, or eye detect, 
 
 ** That's forged by the subtle craft of love ! 
 
 " No need to tell you that he wears it. Such 
 
 " The cunning of the hand that plied the loom, 
 
 " You've but to mark the straining of his eye 
 
 " To feel the coil yourself! 
 " Julia. I feel't without ! 
 
 " You've finished with the third side ; now the fourth I 
 
 " Walt. It brings us to a dungeon, then 
 
 " Julia. The page, 
 
 " The thrall of love, more than the dungeon's thrall, 
 
 "Is there 7 
 "Walt. He is. He lies in fetters ! 
 
 " Julia. Hard — 
 
 " Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on !" 
 Walt. Some one unrivets them. 
 Julia. The princess 1 'Tis ! 
 
 Walt. It is another page. 
 Julia. It is herself ! 
 
 Walt. Her skin is fair, and his is berry brown. 
 
 His locks are raven black, and hers are gold. 
 Julia. Love's cunning at disguises ! spite of locks. 
 
 Skin, vesture — it is she, and only she ! 
 
 What will not constant woman do for love, 
 
 That's loved with constancy ! Set her the task. 
 
 Virtue approvinir, that will baffle her ! 
 
 O'ertax her stooping, patience, courage, wit ! 
 
 My life upon it, 'tis the princess's self, 
 
 Transformed into a page ! 
 Walt. The dungeon door 
 
 Stands open, and you see beyond 
 
 Julia. Her father! 
 
 Walt. No ; a steed ! 
 
 Julia [starting up). Oh, welcome steed, 
 
 My heart bounds at the thought of Miet ! IEImu oem'st 
 
ACT IV.] THE HUNCflBACK. 61 
 
 To bear the page from bonds to liberty. 
 
 What else 1 
 Walt, {rising). The story's told. 
 Julia. Too briefly told ! 
 
 Oh, happy princess, that had wealth and state 
 
 To lay them down for love ! " Whose constant love 
 
 " Appearances approved, not falsified ! 
 
 " A winner in thy loss as well as gain." 
 "Walt. Weighs love so much 1 
 Julia. What would you weigh 'gainst love 
 
 That's true ? Tell me with what you'd turn the scale 1 
 
 Yea, make the index waver 1 Wealth 1 A feather ! 
 
 Rank 1 Tinsel against bullion in the balance ! 
 
 The love of kindred 1 That to set 'gainst love ! 
 
 Friendship comes nearest to't ; but put it in, 
 
 And friendship kicks the beam — weigh nothing 'gainst it ! 
 
 Weigh love against the world ! 
 
 " Yet are they happy that have naught to say to it. 
 " Walt. And such a one art thou. Who wisely wed, 
 
 " Wed happily. The love thou speak'st of, 
 
 '• A flower is only, that its season has, 
 
 " Which they must look to see the withering of, 
 
 " Who pleasure in its budding and its bloom ! 
 
 *' But wisdom is the constant evergreen 
 
 " Which lives the whole year through. Be that your flower !" 
 
 Enter Servant, l. 1 e. 
 Wein 
 
 Serv. My lord's secretary is without. 
 
 He brings a letter for her ladyship, 
 And craves admittance to her. 
 
 Walt. Show him in. 
 
 Julia. No ! 
 
 Walt. Thou must see him. To show slight to him 
 
 Were slighting him that sent him. Show him in ! 
 
 [Exit Servant, l. 1 e. 
 Some errand proper for thy private ear. 
 Besides the letter. What's the matter ? Why 
 This paleness and this trembling ? (c.) Mark me, Julia! 
 If, from these nuptials which thyself invited — 
 Which, at thy seeking came — thou would'st be freed, 
 Thou hast gone too far ! Receding were disgrace, 
 Sooner than see thee suffer which, the hearts 
 That love thee most would wish thee dead ! Reflect I 
 Take thought! Collect thyself ! With dignity 
 
 J Receive thy bridegroom's messenger ! for sure 
 
 As dawns to-morrow's sun, to-morrow night 
 Sees thee a wedded bride ! [Exii^ c. D. 
 
 Julia {alone). A wedded bride ! 
 
 Is it a dream ] " Is it a phantasm 1 'Tis 
 " Too horrible for reality! for aught else 
 *' Too palpable !" Oh, would it were a dream ! 
 How would I bless the sun that waked me from it I 
 " I perish ! Like some desperate mariner 
 " Impatient of a strange and hostile land, 
 •' Who rashly hoists his sail, and puts to sea, 
 " And being fast on reefs and quicksands borne. 
 
52 THE nuiWRBACK. [act IV. 
 
 ''Essays in vain once more to make the land, 
 
 " Whence wind and current drive him." — I am wrecked ! 
 
 By mine own act ! What ! no escape 1 no hope 1 
 
 None I I must e'en abide these hated nuptials ! 
 
 Hated ! Ay ! own it, and then curse thyself! 
 
 " That mad'st the bane thou loathest " — for the love 
 
 Thou bear'st to one who never can be thine ! 
 
 Yes — love ! Deceive thyself no longer. False 
 
 To say 'tis pity for his fall ! — " respect, 
 
 " Engendered by a hollow world's disdain, 
 
 " Which hoots whom fickle fortune cheers no more ! 
 
 '* 'Tis none of these ; " 'tis love — and if not lore, 
 
 Why, then, idolatry ! Ay, that's the name 
 
 To speak the broadest, deepest, strongest passion, 
 
 That ever woman's heart was borne away by ! 
 
 He comes ! Thou'dst play the lady — play it now ! 
 
 Unter Servant, l. 1 e., condmting Clifford, plainly attired, as the Earl 
 OF Rochdale's secretary, 
 
 Serv.. His lordship's secretary. [Exit, c. d. 
 
 Julia {aside). Speaks he not 1 
 
 Or does he wait for orders to unfold 
 
 His business ? Stopped his business till I spoke, 
 
 I'd hold my peace forever ! (Clifford kneels, presenting a letter) 
 Does he kneel ? 
 
 A lady am I to my heart's content ! 
 
 Could he unmake me that which claims his knee, 
 
 I'd kneel to him — I would ! I would ! {aloud) Your will 1 
 Clif. {lowly and humbly). This letter from my lord. 
 Julia (aside). Oh, fate ! {aloud) Who speaks 1 
 
 Clif. The secretary of my lord, {rises.) 
 Julia (aside). I breathe ! 
 
 I could have sworn 'twas he ! [makes an effort to look at him, 
 but is unable) 
 
 So like the voice — 
 
 I dare not look, lest there the form should stand ! 
 
 How came he by that voice ? 'Tis Clifford's voice, 
 
 If ever Clifford spoke ! " My fears come back I" — 
 
 Clifford the secretary of my lord ? 
 
 Fortune hath freaks ; but none so mad as that ! 
 
 It cannot be — it should not be — a look. 
 
 And all were set at rest, {tries again, but cannot) So strong my 
 fears. 
 
 Dread to confirm them takes away the power 
 
 To try and end them ! Come the worst, I'll look ! {she tries 
 again, and is again unequal to the task) 
 
 I'd sink before him, if I met his eye ! 
 Clif. {meekly) Wilt please your ladyship to take the letter ? 
 Julia {aside). There Clifford speaks again ! Not Clifford's breath 
 
 Could more make Clifford's voice ! Not Clifford's tongue 
 
 And lips more frame it into Clifford's speech ! 
 
 A question, and 'tis over, {aloud) Know I you 7 
 Clip. Reverse of fortune, lady, changes friends ; 
 
 It turns them into strangers What I am, 
 
 I have not always been 1 
 Julia. Could I not name you ? 
 
ACT IV.] THE HUNCHBA-CK. 53 
 
 Clif. If your disdain for one, perhaps too bold, 
 
 When hollow fortune called him favorite — 
 
 " Now by her fickleness perforce reduced 
 
 " To take an humble tone," would suffer you 
 Julia. I might 1 
 Clif. You might ! 
 
 Julia (turns, staHs — with grief). Oh, Cliflford ! Is it you'? 
 Clif. {coldly). Your answer to my lord ! {offering the letter.) 
 Julia {with emphasis). Your lord ! 
 
 Clif. [rising). Wilt write it 
 
 Or will it please you send a verbal one ? 
 
 I'll bear it faithfully. 
 Julia {asto7iished). Fo^V/ bear it ? 
 
 Clif. Madam, 
 
 Your pardon, but my haste is somewhat urgent. 
 
 My Lord's impatient, and to use dispatch 
 
 Were his repeated orders. 
 Julia. Orders 1 Well, (c, taking letter) 
 
 I'll read the letter, sir. 'Tis right you mind 
 
 His Lordship's orders. They are paramount ! 
 
 Nothing should supersede them — stand beside them ! 
 
 They merit all your care, and have it ! Fit, 
 
 Most fit they should ! Give me the letter, sir. 
 Clip. You have it, madam. 
 Julia. So ! {aside) How poor a thing 
 
 I look ! so lost, while he is all himself! 
 
 Have I no pride 1 {she rings, the Servant enters, r. 1 e.) 
 
 {to Servant) Paper, and pen and ink! [£xit Servant, r. 1 e. 
 
 (aside) If he can freeze, 'tis time that I grow cold ! 
 
 I'll read the letter ! {opens it, and holds it as about to read it) 
 Mind his orders ! So ! 
 
 Quickly he fits his habits to his fortunes ! 
 
 He serves ray Lord with all his will ! His heart's 
 
 In his vocation. So ! Is this the letter 1 
 
 'Tis upside down— and here I'm poring on't! 
 
 Most fit I let him see me play the fool ! 
 
 Shame ! Let me be myself ! 
 
 Servant re-enters with material* for writing, and exits. 
 
 "A table, sir, 
 
 " And chair " {she sits awhile, gazing vacantly on tJie letter — then 
 
 looks at Clifford) How plainly shows his humble suit ! 
 It fits not him that wears it. I have wronged him ! 
 He can't be happy — does not look it — is not ! 
 That eye which reads the ground is argument 
 Enough ! He loves me ! There I let him stand, 
 And I am sitting ! {rises, and points to a chair) 
 {aloud) Pray you, take a chair, {he bows, declining the honor. 
 
 She looks at him awhile, then speaks with a sudden burst of 
 
 kindness she cannot restrain) 
 Clifford, why don't you speak to me ? {weeps.) 
 CtinP. I trust 
 
 You're happy. 
 Julia. Happy ! Very, very happy I 
 
 You see I weep I am so happy ! Tears 
 Are signs, you know, of naught buL happiness. 
 
54 THE HltNCHBACK. [aCT IV. 
 
 When first I saw you little did I look 
 
 To be so happy ! Cliflford ! 
 Clip. Madam'? 
 
 Julia. Madam . 
 
 I call thee Cliflford, and thou call'st me madam ! 
 Clip. Such the address my duty stints me to. 
 
 Thou art the wife elect of a proud earl — 
 
 Whose humble secretary sole am I. 
 Julia. Most right ! I had forgot .' I thank you, sir, 
 
 For so reminding me ; and give you joy 
 
 That what I see had been a burthen to you 
 
 Is fairly oflf your hands. 
 Clip. A burthen to me 1 
 
 Mean you yourself 1 Are you that burthen, Julia 1 
 
 Say that the sun's a burthen to the earth ! 
 
 Say that the blood's a burthen to the heart ! 
 
 Say health's a burthen, peace, contentment, joy, 
 
 Fame, riches, honors ; every thing that man 
 
 Desires, and gives the name of blessing to — 
 
 E'en such a burthen Julia were to me 
 
 Had fortune let me wear her. 
 Julia {aside). On the brink 
 
 Of what a precipice I'm standing ! Back ! 
 
 Back ! while the faculty remains to do't ! 
 
 A minute longer, not the whirlpool's self 
 
 More sure to suck thee down ! One effort ! (sits l. of table) 
 There ! {recovers her self-possession, takes up the letter ana 
 reads) 
 
 {aside) To wed to-morrow night ! Wed whom 1 A man 
 
 Whom I can never love ! I should before 
 
 Have thought of that. To-morrow night ! This hour 
 
 To-morrow ! How I tremble ! " Happy bands 
 
 " To which my heart such freezing welcome gives, 
 
 "As sends an ague through me !" At what means 
 
 Will not the desperate snatch ! What's honor's price ? 
 
 Nor friends, nor lovers — no, nor life itself! 
 
 {aloud) Clifford! This moment leave me! (Clifford retires 
 up the stage — aside) Is he gone 1 
 
 Oh, docile lover ! Do his mistress' wish 
 
 That went against his own ! Do it so soon ! 
 
 Ere well 'twas uttered ! No good-bye to her ! 
 
 No word ! no look ! 'Twas best that so he went . 
 
 Alas ! the strait of her who owns that best, 
 
 Which last she'd wish were done ! What's left me now ? 
 
 To weep ! To weep ! 
 
 ttcans her head upon her arm, which rests upon the table— her other , arm 
 hanging listless at her side. Clifford comes down the stage, looks a 
 moment at her, approaches her, and kneeling, takes her hand. 
 
 Clif. {with sliced emotion). My Julia ! 
 
 Julia. Here again ? 
 
 Up 1 up ! By all thy hopes of heaven, go hence I 
 
 To stay's perdition to me ! Look you, Clifford ! 
 
 Were there a grave where thou art kneeling now 
 
 I'd walk into't, and be inearthed alive, 
 
 Ere taint should touch my name. Should some one come 
 
ACT IV.] THE HUNCHBACK. 55 
 
 And see thee kneeling thus ! Let go my hand ! 
 
 Remember, Clifford, I'm a promised bride — 
 
 And take thy arm away ! Tt has no right 
 
 To clasp my waist ! Judge you so poorly of me, 
 
 As think I'll suffer this ? My honor, sir 1 {^he breaks from him, 
 
 quitting h&r seat — he rises) 
 I'm glad you've forced me to respect myself — 
 You'll find that I can do so ! 
 
 Clip. (c). 1 was bold — 
 
 Forgetful of your station and my own. 
 There was a time I held your hand unchid ! 
 There was a time I might have clasped your waist — 
 I had forgot that time was past and gone ! 
 I pray you, pardon me ! 
 
 Julia {softened). I do so, CUflford ! 
 
 Clif, 1 shall no more offend. 
 
 Julia. Make sure of that. 
 
 No longer is it fit thou keep'st thy post 
 In's Lordship's household. Give it up. A day — 
 An hour remain not in it. 
 
 Clip. Wherefore 1 
 
 Julia. Live 
 
 In the same house with me, and I another's 7 
 
 Put miles, put leagues between us ! The same laud 
 
 Should not contain us. " Oceans should divide us — 
 
 " With barriers of constant tempests — such 
 
 " As mariners durst not tempt !" Oh, Clifford ! Cliflford ! 
 
 Rash was the act so light that gave me up, 
 
 That stung a woman's pride, and drove her mad — 
 
 Till, in her frenzy, she destroyed her peace ! 
 
 Oh, it was rashly done ! Had you reproved — 
 
 Expostulated — had you reasoned with me — 
 
 Tried to find out what was indeed my heart — 
 
 I would have shown it — you'd have seen it. All 
 
 Had been as naught can ever be again ! 
 
 Clip. Lov'st thou me, Julia 7 
 
 Julia. Dost thou ask me, Clifford 7 
 
 Clip. These nuptials may be shunned 
 
 Julia. With honor 1 
 
 Clip. Yes ! 
 
 Julia. Then take me ! Hold ! — hear me, and take me then ! 
 Let not thy passion be my counsellor ! 
 Deal with me, Clifford, as my brother. Be 
 The jealous guardian of my spotless name ! 
 Scan thou my cause as 'twere thy sister's ! Let 
 Thy scrutiny o'erlook no point of it — 
 And turn it o'er, not once, but many a time ; — 
 That flaw, speck, yea, the shade of one — a soil 
 So slight not one out of a thousand eyes 
 Could find it out — may not escape thee ; then 
 Say if these nuptials can be shunned with honor ! 
 
 Clip. Thev can. 
 
 Julia. Then take me, Clifford ! {they embrace.) 
 
 Enter Master Walter, c. d. ; pattses, then comes down. 
 Walt. Ila ! What's this ? 
 
66 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT IV. 
 
 Ha ! treason ! What ! ray baronet that was, 
 
 My secretary now ! Your servant, sir ! 
 
 Is't thus you do the pleasure of your lord, — 
 
 " That for your service feeds you, clothes you, pays you ! 
 
 " Or tak'st thou but the name of his dependent 1" 
 
 What's here 1 — a letter ! {snatches letter from table) 'Fifty crowns 
 
 to one 
 A forgery ! I'm wrong. It is his hand. 
 This proves thee double traitor ! 
 Clif. {warmly, then cotitr oiling himself ). Traitor! 
 Julia. Nay, 
 
 Control thy wrath, good Master Walter. Do — 
 And I'll persuade him to go hence. ( Master Walter retires 
 up the stage, r., with lettir, and remains there until Clifford 
 is off. Aside to Clifford) I see 
 For me thou bearest this, and thank thee, Cliflford ! 
 As thou hast truly shown thy heart to me, 
 So truly I to thee have opened mine ! 
 Time flies ! To-morrow, if thy love can find 
 A way, such as thou said'st, for my enlargement — 
 By any means thou can'st apprize me of it — 
 And soon as shown I'll take it. 
 Walt, (r.) Is he gone ? 
 
 Julia {aloud). He is — this moment! {aside to Clifford) If thou cov- 
 et'st me. 
 Win me and wear me ! May I trust thee ! {sinks on Clifford's 
 
 breast) Oh 1 
 If that's thy soul that's looking through thine eyes, 
 Thou lov'st me, and I may — I sicken lest 
 I never see thee more ! 
 Clif. As life is mine, 
 
 The ring that goes thy wedding finger on, 
 No hand save mine shall place there ! 
 Walt. Lingers he 1 
 
 Julia. For my sake, now away ! " And yet a word. 
 " By all thy hopes most dear, be true to me ! 
 " Go, now ! Yet stay !" Oh, CHffbrd, while you're herja 
 I'm like a bark distressed and compassless. 
 That by a beacon steers — when you're away, 
 That bark alone, and tossing miles at sea 1 
 Now go ! Farewell ! My compass — beacon — land ! 
 When shall mine eyes be blessed with thee again ! 
 Clif. Farewell ! 
 
 [ With a struggle he tears himself away, and exits, l. 1 e. 
 Julia. Art gone 1 All's care ! All's chauce — all's darkness 1 {is be- 
 ing led off by Master Walter, c, as the curtain falls.) 
 
 CURTAIN.''' 
 
 * This ends the Fifth Act in the Union Square version— there is no change of 
 Scene for the whole of the next Act. 
 
ACT v.] THE HUNCnBACK. 57 
 
 ACT v.* 
 SCENE I. — An apartment in the Earl of Rochdale's. 
 Unter Helen and Fathom, c. d., and advancing. 
 
 Fath. The long and short of it is this — if she marries this lord she'll 
 break her heart ! I wish you could see her, madam — poor lady ! 
 
 Helen. How looks she, prithee 1 
 
 Fath. Marry, for all the world like a dripping wet cambric handker- 
 chief ! She has no color nor strength in her, and does nothing but 
 weep — poor lady ! 
 
 Helen. Tell me again, what said she to thee 1 
 
 Fath. She offered me all she was mistress of to take the letter to 
 Master Clifford. She drew her purse from her pocket— her ring 
 from her finger — her ear-rings from her ears ; but I was forbidden, and 
 refused. And now I'm sorry for it — poor lady ! 
 
 Helen. Thou should'st be sorry. Thou hast a hard heart, Fathom. 
 
 Fath. I, madam ! My heart is as soft as a woman's. You should 
 have seen me when I came out of her chamber — poor lady ! 
 
 Helen. Did you cry 1 
 
 Fath. No ; but I was near it as possible. I a hard heart! I would 
 do anything to serve her — poor sweet lady ! 
 
 Helen. Will you take her letter, asks she you again % 
 
 Fath. No — I am forbid. 
 
 Helen. Will you help Master Clifford to an interview with herl 
 
 Fath. No — Master Walter would find it out. 
 
 Helen. Will you contrive to get me into her chamber 1 
 
 Fath. No — you would get me into mischief. 
 
 Helen. Go to ! You would do nothing to serve her. You a soft 
 heart ! You have no heart at all ! You feel not for her. 
 
 Fath. But I tell you I do — and good right I have to feel for her. I 
 have been in love myself. 
 
 Helen. With your dinner 1 
 
 Fath. I would it had been ! My pain would have soon been over, 
 and at little cost. A fortune I squandered upon her ! — trinkets — trim- 
 mings — treatings — what swallowed up the revenue of a whole year ! 
 Wasn't I in love? Six months I courted her, and a dozen crowns, all 
 but one, did I disburse for her in that time. Wasn't I in love 1 An 
 hostler, a tapster, and a constable courted her at the same time, and I 
 offered to cudgel the whole three of them for her ! Wasn't I in love ] 
 
 Helen. You are a valiant man. Fathom. 
 
 Fath. Am not 1 1 Walks not the earth the man I am afraid of ! 
 
 Helen. Fear you not Master Walter 1 
 
 Fath. No. 
 
 Helen. You do. 
 
 Fath. I don't. 
 
 Helen. I'll prove it to you. You see him breaking your young mis- 
 tress' heart, and have not the manhood to stand by her. 
 
 Fath. What could I do for her 1 
 
 Helen. Let her out of prison. It were the act of a man. 
 
 Fath. That man am I ! 
 
 Helen, Well said, brave Fathom. 
 
 Fath. But my place ! 
 
 * Act VI. in the Union Square version, with no change from preceding Scene. 
 
58 THE HrNCHBACK. [ACT T. 
 
 Helen. I'll provide thee with a better one. 
 
 Fath. 'Tis a capital place ! So little to do, and so much to get for't. 
 Six pounds in the year ; two suits of livery ; shoes and stockings, and 
 a famous larder. He'd be a bold man that would put such a place in 
 jeopardy. My place, madam, my place ! 
 
 Helen. I tell thee I'll provide thee with a better place. Thou shalt 
 have less to do and more to get. Now, Fathom, hast thou courage to 
 stand by thy mistress ] 
 
 Path. I have ! 
 . Helen. That's right. 
 
 Fath. I'll let my lady out. 
 
 Enter Master Walter, unpercmed, c, 
 
 Helen. That's right. When, Fathom 1 
 Fath. To-night. 
 
 Helen. She is to be married to-night. 
 
 Fath. This evening then. Master Walter is now in the library ; the 
 key is on the outside, and I'll lock him in. 
 Helen. Excellent ! You'll do if? 
 
 Fath. Rely upon it. How he'll stare when he finds himself a pris- 
 oner, and my young lady at liberty ! 
 
 Helen. Most excellent ! You'll be sure to do it ? 
 Fath. Depend upon me. When Fathom undertakes a thing he de- 
 fies fire and water 
 
 Walt, (coming forward between them, c). Fathom! 
 Fath. {trewhlingly). Sir 1 
 
 Walt. Assemble straight the servants. 
 Fath. Yes, sir ! 
 
 Walt. Mind, 
 
 And have them in the hall when I come down. 
 Fath. Yes, sir ! 
 Walt. And see you do not stir a step. 
 
 But where I order you. 
 Fath. Not an inch, sir. 
 
 Walt. See that you don't — away ! [Exit Fathom, c. d. 
 
 So, my fair mistress, 
 
 What's this you have been plotting 1 An escape 
 
 For Mistress Julia 1 
 Helen. I avow it. 
 
 Walt. Do you 1 
 
 Helen. Yes ; and moreover, to your face I tell you, 
 
 Most hardly do you use her. 
 Walt. Verily I 
 
 Helen. I wonder where's her spirit ? Had she mine 
 
 She would not take't so easily. Do you mean 
 
 To force this marriage on her 7 
 Walt. With your leave. 
 
 Helen. You laugh ! 
 
 Walt. Without it, then. I don't laugh now. 
 
 Helen. If I were she, I'd find a way to escape. 
 Walt. What would you do 1 
 
 Helen. I'd leap out of the window ! 
 
 Walt. Your window should be barred. 
 Helen I'd cheat you still I 
 
 I'd hang myself ere I'd be forced to marry ! 
 Walt. Well said ! You shall be married, then, to-night ! 
 
ACTA'.] THE HUNCHBACK. 59 
 
 Helen. Married to-night 1 
 
 Walt. As sure as I have said it. 
 
 Helen. Two words to that. Pray, who's to be my bridegroom 1 
 
 Walt. A daughter's bridegroom is her father's choice. 
 
 Helen, My father's daughter ne'er shall wed such bridegroom ! 
 
 Walt. Indeed! 
 
 Helen. I'll pick a husband for myself. 
 
 Walt. Indeed ! 
 
 Helen. Indeed, sir ; and indeed again ! 
 
 Walt. Go dress you for the marriage ceremony. 
 
 Helen. But, Master Walter, what is it you mean 1 
 
 Enter Modus, r. d. ; he stops short. 
 
 Walt. Here comes your cousin — he shall be your bridesman ! 
 The thought's a sudden one — that will excuse 
 Defect in your appointments. A plain dress — 
 So 'tis of white — will do. 
 
 Helen. Fll dress in black. 
 
 I'll quit the castle. 
 
 Walt. ' That you shall not do. 
 
 Its doors are guarded by my lord's domestics ; 
 
 Its avenues — its grounds ; what you must do, 
 
 Do with a good grace. In an hour, or less, 
 
 Your father will be here. Make up your mind 
 
 To take with thankfulness the man he gives you. 
 
 (aside) Now, if they find not out how beat their hearts, 
 
 i have no skill, not I, in feeling pulses. [Exit, l. d. 
 
 'S.^jj^^ follows, but stops shorty and looks across at Modus, at opposite wing; 
 they patise, and bashfully look at each other. 
 
 Helen. Why, cousin Modus ! What ! Will you stand by 
 And see me forced to marry i Cousin Modus, 
 Have you not got a tongue 1 Have you not eyes 1 
 Do you not see I'm very — very ill, {moves towards him) 
 '* And not a chair in all the corridor 1 
 " Mod. I'll find one in the study, {going towards c. d.) 
 " Helen. Hang the study ! 
 
 " Mod. My room's at hand. I'll fetch one thence, {going, r.) 
 " Helen. You shan't ! 
 
 " I'll faint ere you come back !" 
 Mod. {embarrassed — yet moving towards her). What shall I do ? 
 Helen. Why don't you offer to support mel Well 1 
 
 Give me your arm — be quick ! (Modus offers his arm) Is that 
 
 the way 
 To help a lady when she's like to faint 1 
 I'll drop unless you catch me ! {falls against him; he supports 
 
 her) That will do ; 
 I'm better now. {he offers to leave her) Don't leave me ! Is one 
 
 well 
 Because one's better 1 Hold my hand, {gently pulls his arm 
 round her waist so as to bring his hand in front, clasping }ier*s, 
 and she resting on his bo&om) Keep so. 
 •' I'll soon recover, so you move not. {aside) Loves he — 
 " Which I'll be sworn he does he'll own it now." 
 ijaloud) Well, cousin Modus 1 
 
60 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT V. 
 
 Mod. Well, sweet cousin 1 
 
 Helen. WelH 
 
 You heard what Master Walter said 1 
 Mod. I did. 
 
 Helen. And would you have me marry 1 Can't you speak 
 
 Say yes or no. 
 Mod. No, cousin. 
 
 Helen. Bravely said ! 
 
 And why, my gallant cousin ? 
 Mod. Why ? 
 
 Helen. Ah, why ! — . 
 
 Women, you know, are fond of reasons — why 
 
 Would you not have me marry 1 How you look ! 
 
 " Is it because you do not know the reason 1" 
 
 You mind me of a story of a cousin 
 
 Who once her cousin such a question asked. 
 
 He had not been to college, though — for books 
 
 Had passed his time in reading ladies' eyes, 
 
 Which he could construe marvellously well, 
 
 " Though writ in language all symbolical." 
 
 Thus stood they once together, on a day — 
 
 As we stand now — discoursed as we discourse, — 
 
 " But with this difference — fifty gentle words 
 
 " He spoke to her for one she spoke to him ! — 
 
 *' What a dear cousin ! well, as I did say," 
 
 As now I questioned thee she questioned him, 
 
 And what was his reply 1 To think of it 
 
 Sets my heart beating — 'twas so kind a one I 
 
 So like a cousin's answer — a dear cousin ! 
 
 A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin ! 
 
 What did he say ] 
 Mod. On my soul I can't tell. 
 
 Helen. A man might find it out. 
 
 Though never read he Ovid's Art of Love. 
 
 What did he say ? He'd marry her himself ! 
 
 How stupid you are, cousin ! Let me go ! 
 Mod. You are not well yet. 
 Helen. Yes. 
 
 Mod. I'm sure you're not. 
 
 Helen. I'm sure I am. 
 Mod. Nay, let me hold you, cousin ! 
 
 I like it. 
 Helen {archly). Do you ? "I would wager you 
 
 " You could not tell me why you like it. Well ! 
 
 " You see how true I know you." How you stare ! 
 
 What see you in my face to wonder at ? 
 Mod. [with simplicity). A pair of eyes ! 
 Helen (aei^e). At last he'll find his tongu ! 
 
 (aloud) And saw you ne'er a pair of eyes before ? 
 Mod. Not smh a pair. 
 " Helen. And why ? 
 
 " Mod. They are so bright ! 
 
 " You have a Grecian nose." 
 Helen. Indeed 1 
 
 Mod. Indeed ! 
 
 Helen. What kind of raouth have I ? 
 Moo. A handsome one* 
 
A.CT Y.] THE HtJNCnBACK. 61 
 
 I never saw so sweet a pair of lips ! 
 
 I ne'er saw lips at all till now, dear cousin 
 Helen. Cousin, I'm well— you need not hold me now. 
 
 Do you not hear ? I tell you 1 am well ! 
 
 1 need your arm no longer — take't away ! 
 
 So tight it locks me 'tis with pain 1 breathe ! 
 
 Let me go, cousin I Wherefore do you hold 
 
 Your face so close to mine 1 What do you mean 1 
 Mod. You've questioned me, and now I'll question you. 
 Helen. What would you learn 1 
 Mod. The use of lips • 
 
 Helen. To speak 1 
 
 Mod. Naught else 1 
 Helen. " How bold my modest cousin grows !" 
 
 Why, other use know you 7 
 Mod. I do ? 
 
 Helen. Indeed ! 
 
 You're wondrous wise ! And pray, what is it 1 
 Mod. This ! (attempts to kiss her.) 
 
 Helen. Soft ! My hand thanks you, cousin — for my lips 
 
 I keep them for a husband ; (crosses, l.) Nay, stand off! 
 
 I'll not be held in manacles again ! 
 
 Why do you follow me 1 
 Mod. I love you, cousin ! (drops on his knees.) 
 
 Helen. Oh, cousin, say you so ! That's passing strange! 
 
 " Falls out most crossly — is a dire mishap — " 
 
 A thing to sigh for, weep for, languish for, 
 
 And die for ! 
 Mod. Die for ? (rises.) 
 
 Helen. Yes, with laughter, cousin ! 
 
 For, cousiU) I love you ! 
 Mod. And you'll be mine 1 
 
 Helen. I will ! 
 
 Mod. Your hand upon it. 
 
 Helen (warmly). Hand and heart ! {shaking with both hands 
 
 warmly') 
 
 Hie to thy dressing room, and I'll to mine — 
 
 Attire thee for the altar — so will I. 
 
 Whoe'er may claim me, thou'rt the man shall have me. 
 
 Away ! Dispatch ! But hark you, ere you go, 
 
 " Ne'er brag of reading Ovid's Art of Love ! 
 " Mod. And cousin ! stop — one little word with you !" 
 
 Th£y part and go nearly off when they pause ^ look back and return ; shake 
 hands, part again, pause and return ; again shake hands and are about 
 to part, when they kiss heartily, and with a merry laugh Helen runs off 
 L. D. Modus, aa though dumbfounded, stands looking about f&r a mo- 
 ment, then takes book from his bosom, looks at it— suddenly throws it 
 away, and exits quickly, E. D. 
 
 SCENE III.— Julia's chamber.* 
 Unter Julia, c. d. 
 Julia. No word from him, and evening now set in I 
 
 * No chaDge of Scenery in Union Square version. 
 
Q% THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT V. 
 
 He cannot play me false ! His messenger 
 
 Is dogged — or letter intercepted ! I'm 
 
 Beset with spies 7 — No rescue ! — No escape ! 
 
 The hour at hand that brings my bridegroom home ! 
 
 No relative to aid me — friend to counsel me ! (a knock at the 
 
 door.') 
 " Come in. 
 
 " Enter Two Female Attendants. 
 
 " Your will 1 
 " First Attendant. Your toilet waits, my lady, 
 
 " 'Tis time you dress. 
 " Julia. 'Tis time I die ! {a peal of hells) What's that 1 
 
 " Second Attend. Your wedding bells, my lady. 
 " Julia. Merrily 
 
 "They ring my knell! (Second Attendant presents an open 
 case) And pray you, what are these ? 
 Second Attend. Your wedding jewels. 
 " Julia. Set them by. 
 
 " Second Attend. Indeed! 
 
 " Was ne'er a braver set ! A necklace, brooch, 
 
 " And ear-rings all of brilliants — with a hoop 
 
 " To guard your wedding ring. 
 " Julia. 'Twould need a guard 
 
 " That lacks a heart to keep it ! 
 " Second Attend. Here's a heart 
 
 " Suspended from the necklace — one huge diamond 
 
 " Imbedded in a host of smaller ones ! 
 
 " Oh, how it sparkles ! 
 " Julia. Show it me ! Bright heart, 
 
 " Thy lustre, should I wear thee, will be false — 
 
 " For thou the emblem art of love and truth — 
 
 " From her that wears thee, unto him that gives thee. 
 
 " Back to thy case I Better thou ne'er should'st leave it — 
 
 *' Better thy gems a thousand fathoms deep 
 
 " In their native mine again, than grace my neck, 
 
 " And lend thy fair face to palm off a lie ! 
 " FiKST Attend. Wilt please dress 1 
 "Julia. Ay ! in infected clothes, 
 
 " New from a pest-house ! Leave me ! If I dress, 
 
 " I'll dress alone. Oh, for a friend ! Time gallops ! 
 
 [" Exeunt Attendants." 
 
 He that should guard me is mine enemy ! 
 
 Constrains me to abide the fatal die 
 
 My rashness, not my reason, cast. He comes, 
 
 That will exact the forefeit ! Must I pay it 7 
 
 E'en at the cost of utter bankruptcy ! 
 
 What's to be done 7 Pronounce the vow that parts 
 
 My body from my soul ! To what it loathes 
 
 Links that, while this is linked to what it loves ! 
 
 Condemned to such perdition ! What's to be done 1 
 
 Stand at the altar in an hour from this ! 
 
 An hour thence seated at his board — a wife ! 
 
 Thence !— frenzy's in the thought ! What's t6 be done"? 
 
 Enter Master Walteb, c. d. 
 
ACT v.] THE HUNCHBACK. 63 
 
 Walt, (l ). What ! run the waves so high 1 Art ready, Julia ? 
 
 Your lord will soon be here ! The guests collect. 
 Julia (r.)- Show me some way to 'scape these nuptials ! Do it ! 
 
 Some opening for avoidance or escape — 
 
 Or to thy charge I'll lay a broken heart ! 
 
 It may be, broken vows and blasted honor ! 
 
 Or else a mind distraught ! 
 Walt. What's this 1 
 
 Julia. The strait 
 
 I'm fallen into my patience cannot bear ! 
 
 It frights my reason — warps my sense of virtue ! 
 
 Religion ! changes me into a thing 
 
 I look at with abhorring ! 
 Walt. (l. c). Listen to me! 
 
 Julia (c). Listen to me and heed me ! If this contract 
 
 Thou hold'st me to, abide thou the result ! 
 
 Answer to Heaven for what I suffer ! — act ! 
 
 Prepare thyself for such a calamity 
 
 To fall on me, and those whose evil stars 
 
 Have linked them with me, as no past mishap, 
 
 However rare and marvellously sad, 
 
 Can parallel ! Lay thy account to live 
 
 A smileless life, die an unpitied death — 
 
 Abhorred, abandoned of their kind — as one 
 
 Who had the guarding of a young maid's peace- 
 Looked on, and saw her rashly peril it ; — 
 
 And, when she owned her danger and confessed 
 
 Her fault, compelled her to complete her ruin ! 
 Walt. Hast done 1 
 Julia. Another moment and I have. 
 
 Be warned ! Beware how you abandon me 
 
 To myself ! I'm young, rash, inexperienced ! tempted 
 
 By most insufferable misery ! 
 
 Bold, desperate, and reckless ! Thou hast age. 
 
 Experience, wisdom, and collectedness — 
 
 Power, freedom — everything that I have not, 
 
 Yet want as none e'er wanted ! Thou can'st save me ! 
 
 Thou ought'st ! thou must I I tell thee, at his feet 
 
 I'll fall a corse, ere mount his bridal bed ! 
 
 So choose betwixt my rescue and my grave ; 
 
 And quickly too ! The hour of sacrifice 
 
 Is near ! Anon the immolating priest 
 
 Will summon me ! Devise some speedy means 
 
 To cheat the altar of its victim ! Do it ! 
 
 Nor leave the act to me ! 
 Walt. Hast done ! 
 
 Julia. I have. 
 
 Walt. Then list to me — and silently, if not 
 
 With patience, {brings chairs for himself and her ; she c, heB.. o.) 
 Sit down. 
 
 How I watched thee from thy childhood 
 
 I'll not recall to thee. Thy father's wisdom — 
 
 Whose humble instrument I was — directed 
 
 Your nonage should be passed in privacy, 
 
 From your apt mind, that far outstripped your years, 
 
 Fearing the taint of an infected world; — 
 
 "For, in the rich ground, weeds, once taking root, 
 
64 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCT V. 
 
 " Grow strong as flowers." He might be right or wrong ! 
 I thought him right, and therefore did his bidding. 
 Most certainly he loved you — so do I ; 
 Ay ! well as I had been myself your father ! 
 
 His hand is resting/ upon his knee, Julia attempts to take it — he withdraws 
 it — looks at her — she hangs her head. 
 
 Well, you may take my hand ! I need not say 
 How fast you grew in knowledge and in goodness — 
 That hope could scarce enjoy its golden dreams, 
 So soon fulfillment realized them all ! 
 Enough. You came to womanhood. Your heart, 
 Pure as the leaf of the consummate bud 
 That's new unfolded by the smiUng sun, 
 And nei'er knew blight or canker ! 
 
 " She attempts to place her other hand on his shoulder — he leani from her — 
 looks at her — she hangs her head again. 
 
 ' Put it there ! 
 
 '■' Where left I off ? I know !" When a good woman 
 
 Is fitly mated, she grows doubly good, 
 
 How good so e'er before ! I found the man 
 
 I thought a match for thee ; and soon as found, 
 
 Proposed him to thee. 'Twas your father's will, 
 
 Occasion offering, you should be married 
 
 Soon as you reached to womanhood ; you liked 
 
 My choice — accepted him. We came to town ; 
 
 Where, by important matter, summoned thence, 
 
 1 left you an affianced bride ! 
 . Julia. You did ! 
 
 You did ! (leans her head upon her Jmtids and weeps.) 
 Walt. Nay, check thy tears ! Let judgment now, 
 
 Not passion, be awake. On my return, 
 
 I found thee — what 1 I'll not describe the thing 
 
 I found thee then. I'll not describe my pangs 
 
 To see thee such a thing ! The engineer 
 
 Who lays the last stone of his sea-built tower. 
 
 It cost him years and years of toil to raise — 
 
 And, smiling at it, tells the winds and waves 
 
 To roar and whistle now — and, in a night, 
 
 Beholds the tempest sporting in its place — 
 
 Might look aghast, as I did ! 
 Julia [falling on her knees'). Pardon me ! 
 
 Forgive me ! pity me ! 
 Walt. Resume thy seat, {raises her) 
 
 I pity thee ; perhaps not thee alone 
 
 It fits to sue for pardon. 
 Julia. Me alone I 
 
 None other ! 
 " Walt. But to vindicate myself, 
 
 " I name thy lover's stern desertion of thee. 
 
 "What wast thou then with wounded pride? A thing 
 
 " To leap into a torrent ! throw itself 
 
 " From a precipice! rush into fire ! I saw 
 
 '* Thy madness— knew to thwart it were to chafe it— 
 
ACT v.] THE HUNCHBACK. 65 
 
 ** And humored it to take that course, I thought, 
 
 " Adopted, lest 'twould rue ! 
 "Julia. 'Tvvas wisely done. 
 
 "Walt. At least, 'twas for the best. 
 "Julia 'Kp blame thee for it, 
 
 " Was adding shame to shame !'^ But, Master Walter ! 
 
 These nuptials — must they needs go on \ 
 
 " Utiter Servant, l. u. e. 
 " Serv. More guests 
 
 " Arrive. 
 "Walt. Attend to them. [Hxit Servant, l. 
 
 '• Julia. Dear Master Walter, 
 
 " Is there no way to escape these nuptials ?" 
 Walt. Know'st not 
 
 What with these nuptials comes 1 Hast thou forgot 1 
 Julia. What? 
 
 Walt. Nothing — I did tell thee of a thing. 
 
 Julia. What was it '? 
 Walt. To forget it was a fault ! 
 
 Look back and think. 
 Julia. I can't remember it. 
 
 Walt, (up from chair, mide). Fathers, make straws yonr children ! 
 Nature's nothing ! 
 
 Blood nothing ! Once in other veins it runs. 
 
 It no more yearneth for the parent flood, 
 
 Than doth the stream that from the source disparts. 
 
 " Talk not of love instinctive — what you call so 
 
 " Is but the brat of custom ! Your own flesh 
 
 " By habit only cleaves to you — without, 
 
 " Hath no adhesion !" [aloud) So, you have forgot 
 
 You have a father, and are here to meet him 1 
 Julia. I'll not deny it. 
 
 Walt. You should blush for't. 
 
 Julia. No ! 
 
 No ! no ! dear Master Walter ! what's a father 
 
 That you've not been to me ^ {he turns his hack to her) Nay, 
 turn not from me ! 
 
 For at the name a holy awe I own, 
 
 That now almost inclines my knee to earth ! 
 
 But thou to me, except a father's name. 
 
 Hast all the father been ; the care — the love — 
 
 The guidance— the protection of a father ! 
 
 Can' St wonder, then, if like thy child I feel, 
 
 And feeling so, that father's claim forget, 
 
 Whom ne'er I knew, save by the name of one 1 
 
 Oh, turn to me and do not chide me ! or 
 
 If thou wilt chide, chide on ! but turn to me ! 
 Walt, {struggling with emotion). My Julia ! {weeping — he holds out his 
 
 hand to her ; site eagerly takes it.) 
 Julia. Now, dear ^Master Walter, hear me ! 
 
 Is there no way to 'scape these nuptials 7 
 Walt. Julia, 
 
 A promise made admits not of release, 
 
 ■' Save by consent or forfeiture of those 
 
 "Who hold it " — so it should be pondered well 
 
 " Before we let it go." Ere man should say 
 
b6 THE HUNCHBACK. [aCI V. 
 
 I broke the word I had the power to keep, 
 I'd lose the life I had the power to part with ! 
 Remember, Julia, thou and I to-day, 
 Must to thy father of thy training render 
 A strict account. While honor's left to us, 
 We've something — ^nothing, having all but that 
 Now for thy last act of obedience, Julia ! 
 Present thyself before thy bridegroom ! {she assents) Good ! 
 My Julia's now herself ! Show him thy heart, 
 And to his honor leave 't to set thee free. 
 Or hold thee bound. They come, they come !* Thy father 
 will be by ! {Music.) [Exeunt severally. 
 
 " SCENE III.— The banqueting room.1- 
 " Enter Master Walter and Master Hbartwell. 
 
 " Heart. Thanks, Master Walter ! Ne'er was child more bent 
 " To do her father's will, you'll own, than mine • 
 " Yet never one more froward. 
 
 " Walt. All runs fair — 
 
 " Fair may all end. To-day you'll learn the cause 
 " That took me out of town. But soft awhile, 
 " Here comes the bridegroom with his friends, and here 
 " The all-obedient bride." 
 
 Enter " on one hand Julia, and on the other, ^^ Lord Rochdale, with Lord 
 Tinsel and friends ; afterwards Clifford, c. d. 
 
 RocH. (c). Is she not fair ! 
 
 Tin. (l). She'll do. Your servant, lady ! Master Walter, 
 
 We're glad to see you. Sirs, you're welcome all ! 
 
 What wait they for ? Are we to wed or not 1 
 
 We're ready — why don't they present the bride? 
 
 I hope they know she is to wed an earl. 
 RocH. Should I speak first 1 
 Tin. Not for your coronet ! 
 
 I, as your friend, may make the first advance. 
 
 We're come here to be married. Where's the bride 1 
 Walt. There stands she. Lord. If 'tis her will to wed, 
 
 His Lordship's free to take her. 
 Tin. Not a step ! 
 
 I, as your friend, may lead her to your Lordship. 
 
 Fair lady, by your leave ! {crosses to her.) 
 Julia. No, not to you ! 
 
 Tin. I ask your hand to give it to his Lordship. 
 Julia. Nor to his Lordship— save he will accept 
 
 My hand without my heart ! '• but I'll present 
 
 " My knee to him, and by his lofty rank — 
 
 " Implore him now to do a lofty deed 
 
 " Will lift its stately h-ad above his rank — 
 
 •' Assert him nobler yet in worth than name — 
 
 * lu repre.seutation, " they cjiuu, they coraol" is inserted as above, and there is 
 no succeeding change of Scene— all the verses and directions marked with inverted 
 commas being omitted. Hearlweli should enter with the friends of the bride. 
 
 t No change of Scene in the Union Square version. 
 
ACT v.] THE niXNCHBACK. 67 
 
 " And in the place of an unwilling bride, 
 
 " Unto a willing debtor make liim lord — 
 
 " Whose thanks shall be his vassals, night and day, 
 
 " That still shall wait upon him !" 
 Ti.v. What means this 1 {crosses, l.) 
 
 Julia. What is't behoves a wife to bring her lord ? 
 Walt. A whole heart, and a true one. 
 Julia. I have none ! 
 
 Not half a heart — the fraction of a heart ! 
 
 Am I a woman it befits to wed 1 
 Walt. Why, where's thy heart ? 
 Julia. Gone — out of my keeping ! 
 
 Lost — past recovery ! " right and title to it — 
 
 " And all given up !" and he that's owner on't, 
 
 So fit to wear it, were it fifty hearts 
 
 I'd give it to him all ! 
 Walt. Thou dost not mean 
 
 His Lordship's secretary 1 
 Julia. Yes. Away 
 
 Disguises ! In that secretary know 
 
 The master of the heart, of which the poor, 
 
 Unvalued, empty casket at your feet — 
 
 Its jewel gone — I now despairing throw ! (kneels) 
 
 " Of his lord's bride he's lord ! lord paramount ! 
 
 " To whom her virgin homage first she paid — 
 
 " 'Gainst whom rebelled in frowardness alone — 
 
 " Nor knew herself how loyal to him till 
 
 " Another claim'd her duty — then awoke 
 
 '* To sense of all she owed him — all his worth — 
 
 " And all her undeservings !" 
 Walt. Rise, my Julia ! (raises her.) 
 
 Tin. Lady, we come not here to treat of hearts — 
 
 But marriage ; which, so please you, is with us 
 
 A simple joining by the priest of hands ; 
 
 A ring's put on ; a prayer or two is said ; 
 
 You're man and wife— and nothing more ! For hearts 
 
 We oft'ner do without than with them, lady ! 
 Clif. So does not wed this lady, (advances, c. Julia ffoes to him as 
 
 for protection. ) 
 Tin. Who are you 1 
 
 Clif. I'm secretary to the Earl of Rochdale. 
 Tin. My Lord '? 
 RocH. I know him not. 
 
 Tin. I know him now — 
 
 Your Lordship's rival ! Once Sir Thomas Clifford. 
 Clip. Ay, sir ; and once this lady's bridegroom — who 
 
 Then loved her — loves her still ! 
 Julia. Was loved by her — 
 
 Though then she knew it not ! — is loved by her, 
 
 As now she knows, and all the world may know ! 
 Tin. We can't be laughed at. We are here to wed, 
 
 And shall fulfill our contract. 
 Julia. Clifford ! 
 
 Clif. Julia ! 
 
 You will not give your hand ? (a pause — Julia seems utterly lost.) 
 Walt. You have forgot 
 
 Again. You have a father ! 
 
68 THE HUNCHBACK. [a.CT Y. 
 
 Julia. Bring him now— 
 
 To see thy Julia justify thy training, 
 
 And lay her life down to redeem ker word ! 
 Walt. And so redeems her all ! {crosses, c.) Is it your will, 
 
 My Lord, these nuptials should go on ? 
 RocH. (l. c). It is. 
 
 Walt. Then is it mine they stop ! 
 Tin. I told your Lordship 
 
 You should not keep a hunchback for your agent. 
 Walt. (c. ). Thought like ray father, my good Lord, who said 
 
 He would not have a hunchback for his son — 
 
 So do I pardon you the savage slight ! 
 
 My Lord, that I am not as straight as you 
 
 Was blemish neither of my thought nor will, 
 
 " My head nor heart. It was no act of mine "— 
 
 Yet did it curdle nature's kindly milk 
 
 E'en where 'tis richest — in a parent's breast — 
 
 To cast me out to heartless fosterage — 
 
 Not heartless always, as it proved — and give 
 
 My portion to another ! " the same blood— 
 
 " But I'll be sworn, in vein, my Lord, and soul — 
 
 " Although his trunk did swerve no more than yours— 
 
 " Not half so straight as I. 
 " Tin. Upon my life, 
 
 " You've got a modest agent, Rochdale ! Now 
 
 " He'll prove himself descended — mark my words — 
 
 " From some small gentleman ! 
 " Walt. And so you thought, 
 
 " Where nature played the churl, it would be fit 
 
 " That fortune played it too. You would have had 
 
 *' My Lord absolve me from my agency ! 
 
 " Fair Lord, the flaw did cost me fifty times — 
 
 " A hundred times my agency ;" — but all's 
 
 Recovered. Look, my Lord, a testament {shows will) 
 
 To make a pension of his Lordship's rent roll ! 
 
 It is my father's, and was left by him, 
 
 In case his heir should die without a son, 
 
 Then to be opened. Heaven did send a son 
 
 To bless the heir. Heaven took its gift away. 
 
 He died — his father died. And Master Walter — 
 
 The unsiohtly agent of his Lordship there — 
 
 The hunchback whom your Lordship would have stripped 
 
 Of his agency — is now the Earl of Rochdale ! {^general movement 
 of mirprise.) 
 Julia. The Earl of Rochdale ! 
 Walt And what of that T Thou know'st not half my greatness ! 
 
 A prouder title, Julia, have I yet. 
 
 Sooner than part with which, I'd give that up 
 
 And be again plain Master Walter, What ! 
 
 Dost thou not apprehend me T Yes, thou dost ! 
 
 Command thyself— don't gasp ! My pupil — daughter! 
 
 Come to thy father's heart ! (Julia rushes into his arms,) 
 Tin. We've made a small mistake here. Never mind, 
 
 'Tis nothing for a lord. 
 
 Enter Fathom, hurriedly, c, p. 
 
KCT v.] THE HUNCHBACK. 69 
 
 Fatu Thieveiy ! Elopement — escape — arrest! 
 
 Walt. What's the matter ? 
 
 Path Mistress Helen is running away with Master Modus — Master 
 Modus is running away with Mistress Helen — but we have caught them, 
 secured them, and here they come, to receive the reward of their 
 merits. 
 
 Enter Helen and Modus, c. d.,. foUmoed by Servants. 
 
 Helen. I'll ne'er wed man, if not my cousin Modus. 
 
 Mod. Nor woman I, save cousin Helen's she. 
 
 Walt, (to Heartwell). A daughter and a nephew has my friend, 
 Without their match in duty ! You shall marry. 
 {to Rochdale) For you, sir, who to-day have lost an earldom, 
 Yet would have shared that earldom with my child — 
 My only one — content yourself with prospect 
 Of the succession — it must fall to you — ; 
 
 And fit yourself to grace it. Ape not those .* 
 
 Who rank by pride. The man of simplest bearing 
 Is yet a lord when he's a lord indeed ! 
 
 '' Tin. The paradox is obsolete. Ne'er heed ! 
 
 "Learn from his book, and practise out of mine. 
 
 " Walt." Sir Thomas Clifford, take my daughter's hand 
 If now you know the master of her heart ; 
 Give it, my Julia ! You suspect, I see — 
 And rightly — there has been some masking here. 
 Well, you shall know anon how keeps Sir Thomas 
 His baronetcy still — and, for myself, 
 How jealousy of my mis-shapen back 
 Made me mistrustful of a child's affections, 
 Although I won a wife's — so that I dropped 
 The title of thy father, lest thy duty ^ 
 
 Should pay the debt thy love alone could solve. 
 All this and more, that to thy friends and thee 
 Pertains, at fitting time thou shalt be told. 
 But now thy nuptials wait— the happy close 
 Of thy hard trial — wholesome, though severe 1 
 The world won't cheat thee now— thy heart is proved 
 Thou know'st thy peace by finding out its bane, 
 And ne'er wilt act from reckless impulse more ! 
 
 Disposition of Characters at the fall of the Curtain. 
 
 Clifford. Julla. 
 
 Helen. Walter. 
 
 Modus. Eochdale. 
 
 Heartweli.. Tinsel 
 
 B. L. 
 
 CUBTAIN. 
 
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 \ I CONTENTS. 
 
 .Chapter I. General Remarks. 
 
 Chapter II. Qrease-Palnts. their orlsrin, components and use. 
 
 T, 'Chapter III. The Make-up Box. Grease-Paints, Mirrors, Face Powder and 
 wSff Exora Cream, Rouge, Liquid Color, Grenadine, Blue for the Eyelids, 
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 -iphapter IV. Preliminaries before Making up; tlie Straiglit Make-ap 
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 VoDhapter VL Juveniles. Straight Juvenile Make-up, Society Men, 
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 rvi'hapter VIII. Comedy and Character Make-ups. Comedy Effects, 
 
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 Vv^apter IX. The Human Features. The Mouth and Lips, the Eyes and 
 
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 f Chapter X. Other Exposed Parts of the Human Anatomy. 
 
 !hapter XI. Wigs, Beards, Moustaches, and Eyebrows Choosing 
 
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 Amps, Moustaches, Eyebrows. _, . . .., _.,. 
 
 Ar?hapter XIL Distinctive and Traditional Characteristics. >orth 
 
 ( rjr.erican Indians, Kew England Farmers, Hoosiers, Southerners, Politicians. 
 
 I rnrV'boys, Miuers. Quakers, Tramps, Creoles, Mulatoes, Quadroons. Octo- 
 
 fin.ns, Kegroes, Soldiers duringWar, Soldiers during Peace, Scouts, Path- 
 
 ^" iers, Puritans, Early Dutch Settlers, Englishmen, Scotchmen, Irishmen, 
 
 S eininchmen, Italians, Spaniards, Portuguese. South Americans, Scandina- 
 
 'MnAs, Germans, Hollanders, Hungarians, Gipsies, Russians, Turks, Arabs. 
 
 1 ^At)rs, Caffirs, Abysslnlans, Hindoos, Malays, Chinese, Japanese, Clowns and 
 
 J .uary, Hebrews, Drunkards, Lunatics, Idiots, Misers, Rogues, 
 
 (Address Orders to 
 THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHINQ COMPANV, 
 CHICAGO. ILLINOIS. 
 
PLAYS. 
 
 BEING the largest theatrical booksellers 
 the United States, we keep in stock the mc 
 complete and best assorted lines of plays 
 entertainment books to be found in this countr 
 
 We can supply any play or book pu| 
 lished. We have issued a 144-page catalog 
 of the best 1500 plays and entertainment boo 
 published in the U. S. and England. It cc 
 tains a full description of each play, givi 
 number of characters, time of playing, scenei 
 costumes, etc. This catalogue will be sent ^1 
 on application. 
 
 The plays described are suitable for a; 
 ateurs and professionals, and nearly all of the 
 may be performed free of royalty. Persons 
 terested in dramatic books should examine 
 catalogue before ordering elsewhere. 
 
 The Dramatic Publishing Compaky* 
 
 CHICAGO. 
 
Gaylamount 
 
 Pamphlet 
 
 Binder 
 
 Gaylord Bros.. Inc. 
 
 Stockton, Calif. 
 T. M.Reg. U.S. Pat. Otf. 
 
 U.C. BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 CD20flS7MMa 
 
 iviJi900f>9 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CAUFORNIA UBRARY