No. CCOCXXIL FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA CJe Acting ISUition, A CELEBRATED CASE A DRAMA ht pbologus am> wour Aooi D'ENNERY & OORMOlll The Union Sqnare Theatre Version ADAPTED BT A. Tl CAZABAUN PRICE, 35 CENTS New York SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 2S WEST 45TH STREET London SAMUEL FRENCH. Lm 26 Southampton Strebt STRAND /[ / ■..j-iu, CELEBRATED CASE. ^ Drama rN PROLOGUE AND FOUR AClS. BT MM. D^EE"]^EEY A'NT> OORMOIT, New York SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 25 WEST 45TH STREET London SAMUEL FRENCH, Lm 26 Southampton Street STRAND A CELEBRATED CASE. CHARACTERS IN THE PROLOGUE, Uniou Square Theatre. Jean Renatjd, a Soldier' in the French Army, Mr. CHARLES COGHLAN Count d'Aubeterre, commanding King's Uirn Regiment, ■• Mr. JOHiN PAKSELLE Lazare, a Camp Follower Mr. FRANK HARDENBURG Denis O'Rourke, an Irish Sergeant in the King's .-ervice, Mr. J. H. STODDART The Corporal Mr. W. H. WILDER The Seneschal op the Village op Montagne. Mr. H. F. DALY Capi ain in the King's Own Mr. GOLDTHWAIT Madeline Renaud, Jean's Wife Miss AGNES BOOTH Adrienne Renaud (aged five), Jean's Daughter, Miss EVA FRENCH Martha Miss LULU JORDAN Julie Miss MARGARET CONE Annette Miss HATTIE THORPE Soldiers, Villagers, etc. Twelve years are supposed to elapse between the incidents of the Prologue arid those of the First Act. CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY. Jean Renaud, condemned to the Galleys for life, Mr. CHARLES COGHLAN Count de Mornay, returned from Exile, Mr. FRANK HARDENBURG Duke d'Aubeterre, Governor of Provence, Mii. JOHN PARSELLE Viscount Raoul de Langey, betrothed to Adrienne, Mr. kelson DECKEli Denis O'Rourke, in the Service of Duke d' Amieterre, Mr. J. 11. STODDART The Sergeant op the Guard Mr. II. W. MON I GOMERY Jdski'h, // Servant Mr. H. F. DALY Adriknne, Duke d'Aubeterre's adopted Daut/hter, MiSb SARAH JEWETT Valkntink de Mornay Miss lilNDA DIETZ Ddcmksse d'Aubkterue Mrs. C. W. POOLE ClIANOINESSK OK TUK COLLEGE D'HyEREO. . MitSS ID.\ VER.NON Julie, Adrieune's Maid Soldiers. Con'vict6, i:tc. 79 COSTUMES OF CELEBRATED CASE. Count d'Aubeterre — Full regimentals of the "King's Own.'' Jiick-boots and spurs ; white breeches ; white military vest, gold facings ; blue cloth coat, gold facings ; deep cuiTs, trimmed with gold military braid ; lace bow and fall ; lace cuffs ; white gloves ; powdered bai;-wig, ribbon from bag to fall over bosom ; three- cornered black hat, trimmed with gold lace ; sword and white belt. 8ec»nd Dress — Rich square-cut dark velvet suit ; low square- toed shoes, red heels, buckles, and court sword, Jean Renaud — Soldier's uniform (jf the " King's Own." Blue coat, yellow facings on front, and deep cuffs ; white breeches, and white long gaiters buttoned upon sides full length ; cross and wnist belts ; stock and bag- wig ; three-cornerod hal ; musket. Second Dress — Convict's dress of chocolate-colored merino, viz.: Loose knee-breeches ; loose jacket, short full sleeves, witli grey- colored undershirt, open bosom ; common low shoes ; canvas- sandalled legs; loose common cap same as dress; ball and chain fistened to ankles on le^s; matted hair and unshaven beard. L.\zare — Slouched grey hat ; long-haired rough wig ; striped colored shirt, with broad turned-down collar ; loose brown coat ; stockings pulled up above knee and turned down at top ; loose breeches tucked inside of stockings ; low shoes, buff. Second Dress — Richly-trimmed dark velvet suit ; powdered wig, sword, etc. 7571 Denis O'Rout.ke — Regimental dress of the "King's Own," sergeant's stripes on left arm. Second Dress — Dark square-cut liverj. Long vest ; low shoes and buckles ; powdered bag-wig ; white stockings ; white bow and fall ; puffed cuffs ; long cane as staff of cfEce. Corporal — Regimental dress, two stripes on left arm. Seneschal — Dark green shad-bellied suit ; brown wig. Capt.\in — Regimentals of " King's Own." M.VDELINE — Short striped skirt ; striped hose ; slippers ; black velvet low bodice with shoulder-straps, over white high-necked muslin waist ; long full sleeves, tight at wrist ; fancy apron ; hair in two long plaits at back, with bows on end, and white Nor. mandy cap with ribbon bow. Child ^ Martha I Similar in style to Madeline Julie 1 Annette / Villagers — Loose colored trunks ; vests ; plain trimmed me- rino jackets ; colored hose ; low shoes ; longish hair, tied behind ; three-cornered or briad-brimmed hate. A CELEBRATED CASE. PROLOGUE. Part 1. Cottage of John Renaud in the village of Montague. Door, R, c. On the L. is a smaller door which leads to the bed- room o/" John and his wife. On the o. is a. tvindow. On R. below door, a vast chimney like that in '■'■Pierre Michel.^'' On L. above the door is a dresser with shelves in its upptr half and drawers in its lower half Table, r. c. Time : Night. Small corner cupboard in angle, l. 2 e. At rise of curtain, Madeline, Martha, Annette, and Louise, together with a female neighbor, are seated sewing round the table, on which a lamp is burning. The Women are making lace — Brussels lace. Madeline is seated to the left with frame near dresser, on which is another lamp. Martha {Indicating Madeline loith a gesture of the head and speaking in half-voice) Poor woman ! It is not on the lace her mind is. Louise Of course it isn't ; and her good man may be fac- ing the bnllets this night. Martha Oh, the cruel, cruel wars ! When — Madeline ( Quickly raising her head as if to listen) Hush ! Hark! All (Startled) What is it? Madeline [Goes to ivindow c, pushes it partly open ; all listen) It's cavalry — I hear the ring of the hoofs. Martha Some other detacliment — on to Fontenoy. Louise (Fervently) Have mercy on us, O Heaven ! for there the great fight is to be. Madeline (Coming forward, l. c.) Alas! — (Looking round her) — But where is my child ? (Sits h. h. 1 A. CELEBRATED CASK. Louise With the little ones next door. Poor little things ! The war, thank Heaven ! does not trouble them. Madeline [JVow at work) Their young hearts could not bear the suspense, the agony. It is now five weeks since we heard from the army, isn't it ? I think the suspense vvill kill me. Martha [Rising, going to her) Come, come, courage ! You knew John was likely to be recalled to the army — an old soldier like him. Madeline Not so very old either. But John was not the man to wait for a second call when the enemy menaced our homes. Martha He is a good, brave, noble man — in spite of his hot temper and his jealousy. And after all, his fits of anger only sprang from his love for his young wife. Madeline Every house has its troubles. How quickly I forgot his jealous fits when I saw him march away, knap- sack on back and musket on shoulder, and heard my little girl ask, " Won't papa come back soon ?" Martha The Seneschal thinks the fighting will be over by harvest-tinu-. Louise And John will be mustered out with the rest. Madeline My foster-sister, the Countess D'Aubeterre, is the wife of his Colonel, and I know she will obtain his re- lease for me after the campaign is over. You know it was she gave me to John, gave me my little dowry ; and as we left the church, took ufi' lier own necklace and placed it on my neck with her own hands. Martha ( With awe) The Queen of France has not a more splendid necklace than that. (Crossing to r. c. Louise [Eagerly) Oh, let me see it — I never saw it — oh do! All [Coming forward to c.) Oh yes, yes. Let us see it. (Madeline rises, goes to dresser, opens top draioer, takes out a good -sized casket, opens it and takes a necklace out of it, which the Women gape at in wonder and admiration.) Martha Isn't it splendid ! Louise It must be worth a fortune. Madeline {Proudly enjoying their admiration)\o\i see the A CELEBRATED CASE. 5 medallion. Well, I press on this diamond in the middle, and it opens, and there, you see, are the arras and initials of the Countess — ray foster-sister. Martha How much could you get for it, do you think ? Madeline I'll never know, for I'll never part with it while I live. [Puts it hack into casket ; puts casket in draioer. The others return to their seats. Adrienne rushes in, r. 3 e. Adrienne Mamma! mammal soldiers! soldiers! More soldiers with big wagons. They're stopping on the Square. Is papa with them ? Madeline {To Martha) I knew I heard troops Adrienne Oh, papa ! papa ! Louise Let's go and see. Madeline Yes, yes. Come, come i [All the Women rise to f/oout, r. 3 e. Enter Sergeant O'RouRKE, door R. 3 E. 0^ Rourke [Coming doiun c.) Don't be afther disthurbing yirsilves, darlints. Madeline [Delirfhtedly) O'Rourke, the Colonel's orderly. Our old neighbor ! 0^ Rourke Sargint O'Rourke now, av it's all the same to you, Mrs. Raiiiaud. Madeline Have you seen John ? Louise Have you seen James ? Martha Have you seen Peter ? Annette Have you seen Paul ? First Woman Have you seen Luke ? O'' Rourke I bring riports ov the bearers of those five apostolic names — good riports — foine news. [Takes his gv.n, places it up stage. Madeline Heaven be praised ! Louise And Cousin James ? — he was in your regiment. 0' Rourke Little Jimmy is in the ambulance with a beau- tiful ball in his shoulder — it's not of the slightest conse- quence. Louise Poor James ! 6 A CELEBRATED OASE. Martha And Peter — handsome Peter ? 0''Rourke Handsome Peter, is it ? Sure he undertook to shtop the sabre of one of Brunswick's blackguards with his nose, and he isn't as handsome now as he was. But don't be afeard, acushla, it's not ov the sHghtest consequence. Annette And Paul —how is Paul, my Paul ? Bless his two eyes ! O^Rourke You can't bless his two eyes any more, me pet. A grape-shot's took the lift one. But he can see very well with the other. So don't cry, alannah, It's not ov the slight- est consequence. Louise This is what you call fine news. Madeline ( Coming down l. c.) But John, my John ! O^Rourke Fresh as a daisy with the June dew upon it, darlint. Upon me sowl, I believe the balls is afeard ov the man ; because he isn't afeard ov them. Madeline [Fervently) Thank Heaven ! But how come you — O^Jioiirke Here in the middle ov the night, is it ? Will, I'm convoying an ammunition train, and we had to pass this way because the dirty Inglish hold iviy other way. Madeline I'm so glad. O^Roiirke Yis, We halted in the Square, so I came to bring you all the news, while the wimin is givin' the boys a dhrop o' something, Loidse Well, Mr. O'Rourke — O'Rourke {Insinuatingly.) Sargint O'Rourke, av you plaze, ma'am. Louise Well, Sergeant O'Rourke, we'll go and do like- wise. O'Rourke Av you plaze. It's like ould Ireland to see the wimin waitin' on the boys afther a shindig. (Opens r. v./or the ivonien.) And never yeez mind a fellow's losing an eye or a nose, the loss ov thim mimbers is ov not the sliglitest consequence — the man is just as good, though not 80 complayte. (Martha takes Child. (The Wojnen all but Madeline having passed out, she goes to corner cupboard, l. n. Madeline You must rest a while. A CELEBRATED CASE. 7 O'Roxirke Indeed an' I will, for it's a good way T«t to the lines. Madeline {^Goincj to a sideboard and taking out bottle and glass.) And you will take a glass of John's wine ? {^Putting ivine and glass on table and getting r. of table. O^Hourke Ay, and dhrink it to his health. [Drinks and sits down, r. c. Madeline A^^ ^f>w tell me about John. O'Rourke You know I left the Irish Brigade becaus* of a row with one of the O'Burkes, and joined John's regi- ment because he was an ould neighbor of mine. But it's the bad luck was in it, foi* they put me in a different com- pany, and we were detailed to convoy this ammunition. I saw him when I started, and he was as bloomin' as a sham- rock in spring. lie towld me to see you and give his daughter a couple of kisses for him ; and to be sure to tell you he was sorry and ashamed of his past jealousy and hot temper; and if he conies back you'll have no more rows. Enter Adrienne, r. d. Runs over to l. h. Come here, little one. Come here and let me give you what papy sent you. {^Takes upChild^ kisses her on each cheek, and pats her head. Adrienne An-d didn't he send any kisses to mamma ? 0''Rourke Shure it's myself wishes he had ; but he'll bring them himself. Madeline But how soon ? 0^ Rourke Every minute is a month to yer heart, dar- jint, I know. But it will be soon. To-morrow's fighten will fix it. Madeline To-morrow ? O'Rourke Ye'U hear the music bright an' early. The King '11 be there, and if the Irish and the Frinch can't bate the English, the divil must be takin' splendid care of his own. {Drum, Enter Corporal, r. 3 e. Corporal Horses fed ; all ready, Sergeant. 8 A CELEBRATED CASE. O^Rourke {Rising, taking up knapsack.) So am I, Cor- poral. \^Exit Corporal, r. :3 e. The victory of to-morrow will end the war {taking the child up), and bring- papa back. Who will be glad ? Adrienne I Avill — and mamma. {Kisses O'Rourke.) That for papa, and that, and that. (O'Rourke, much 7noved, hands the Child to its mother^ s arms, and goes up to get gun. Madeline and Child cross to h. H. Adrienne Sergeant ! {ITe turns back.) And that {throw- ing her ar/ns round his neck) for you. O^Rourke The blessed fairy ! What's the matter wid me ? I think it's my collar is tight — This will niver do. {Takes gun. Goes to door, e. 3 e.) Heaven bless ye both ! [^jExit, R. 3 E., quickly. {They follow to door, wave their hands after him. Adrienne {Looking out.) All the lights are out. Every body has gone to bed. How dark and still it is ! Oh come in, mamma, come in and shut the doors. I am afraid at night. Madeline {Coming in and closing door.) Afraid, with me? Adrienne I know ; but it isn't as if papa was home, Madeline You're not afraid then. Adrienne Only when I'm in the other room and I hear him quarrelling with you sometimes. Madeline Never fear, dear. He won't quarrel with me any more. Knock heard at n. r. Adrienne {Stops, startled.) There's a knock, mamma ! Madeline Probably Martha, who has forgotten her knit- ting. {Goes toward d. r. Adrienne {Holding on to her dress.) Oh, mamma, take care ! Madeline Now don't be frightened. {Knock repeated a little harder.) Who's there? A CELEBRATED CASE. 9 Voice (Outside D. R.) It's me, Madeline, open quick] quick ! Madeline John Renaud ! {^Opcns R. D. quickly. John rushes in, Madeline You ! Adrienne Papa ! John Hush ! [Shuts the door. Madeline ( Throwing herself on his 7ieck?j Is it possible ! John [Pouting gun against fireplace.) Not so loud — not so loud. (John takes up Adrienne and covers her with kisses. Adrienne Oh, if you knew how glad I am ! John It is easy to see. But don't say it so loud, dar- ling ! Adrienne Why, papa ? John (^Putting Child down.) Because nobody must know papa came here to kiss his little girl to-night. [Goes to D. R., opens it a very little and 2ieei's out. Made- line gets to R. H. Madeline But Avon't you tell me — John (Pointing to Child.) Yes — by and by. But first let me look at vou (^Draws them both towards him.) Let ine feel I am awake, that it is indeed you I press to my lieart, after a separation of two such months. "Adrienne You wont go away again, will you, papa ? John Very soon I will be able to remain with you for- ever. But it is getting late. Your little eyes need slee]). (Aside to Madeline:) Get her away. Madeline Yes. Now be a good girl. Say good-night to papa, and don't forget to say your prayers ! (Putting child over to John. Adrienne (Holding her forehead up to her father.) Good- niglit, papa ! John Good-night, darling ! Adrienne I'm not a bit afraid now. Good-night, }japa ! (Goes into room^ l. d., led by her mother, who closes the door after her. Comes back and kneels by John,) Madeline Speak, John, Tell me. I know something very serious could alone bring you here, at such a time. at this hour. ll> A CELEBRATED CASE. John. You're right. Listen, [Takes her hand.) We have had some sharp trials together, wife, but it's all over. We are now rich. Madeline. Rich ! How ? John. We were this raominff sent out to skirmish on the frontier. We had a sharp cncouuter with some Dutch rifle- men ; but we were in sufficient force and repulsed them. Night came on, and we were recalled. As 1 followed our column, not yet in complete marching order, I heard some cries for aid. Thinking they might be from some wounded comrade, I went in the direction of the sound, and soon saw one man with his knee on another's body. I rushed for- ward, and the scoundrel fled into the night ; and 1 found only a poor traveller, who, trying to make his way across the frontier, had been caught in the net of the moving armies, and who had received a fearful grape-shot wound in the head. I raised him up, poured some water from my canteen down his throat, and he revived a little. He pointed on the ground beside him, where I beheld some jewels that had evi- dently fallen from his belt, torn in the struggle with the ruf- fian wnr bad fled. " Take these," he said ; " and all in my belt. They are family jewels and deeds to family property ; I con- fide them to your honor. I am the Count de Mornay, the youngest of that persecuted and proscribed family. I was striving to cross the lines into Flanders, hoping thence to reach England, where my father awaits me." He then im- plored me to convey to his father the news of his death, and the papers and jewels he had confided to me. I swore to him I would do so. He then painfully took from his pocket a purse. "This," he said, "I give you freely. It contains, in gold and bills, three hundred louis. Accept it in memory ofthe man you have striven to succor." At this moment I could hear the tramp of infantry. " It is the English," he said ; " go save yourself cr you'll be taken prisoner — go ! and don't forget your oath and ray trust." He fell back, I think, dead. The tramp came nearer and nearer, I fled towards our retreat- ing column. Suddenly I thought of to-morrow's great battle ; of the weight of this great trust ; of you and the little one. Knowing the country, I knew I was but half an hour's run from here. I determined to come, leave these A CELEBRATED CASE. 11 things witli you, the money he gave me to you, in case aught should happen to me at Fontenoy to-morrow. In a skirmish retreat 1 would not be missed for a couple of hours, and could easil}' be present at roll-call. I did not hesitate a minute, and here I am. (Riaiiir/.^ So, wife, put the jewels and these papers [opening knapsack on table) with the neck- lace given you by the Countess d'Aubeterre ; and keep them safely. If — if — to — to-morrow I fall on the field, forward them to the father of the poor dead Count; and in liis gift of three hundred louis you will have enough to keep yourself and our child from want. Madeline But you will return, John ; you will — you must ! John That must be as Heaven wills. Put these away, and keep them safe. Madeline [Crossing to dresser and arranging them in casket.) What magnificent jewels, necklaces of pearls, bracelets ! (^Looking at the purse.) And these three hundred louis are oivrs ? John Honestly ours, wife. Madeline Our daughter's dowry ! I Locks the casket in the drawer of the dresser whence she took it at commencement of act, and p)uts the key of the dratver in her pocket — apron pocket. John And now, dariing, I haven't a minute to lose. I can't have been missed, or they will suppose I missed my way. I have a good pair of legs; and on the battle morn- ing John Renaud will not be absent from roll-call, never fear. Madeline What a night — and for me what an anxious morrow, John ! John {Taking her in his arms.) Bear it like a soldier's wife. And now one word, darling. My foolish anger and intemperate jealousies, my violent temper in the past — Madeline {Kissing him.) Forgotten, John, my love — my husband ! John You forgive them all ? Madeline Forgive them ? Why, John, I love you more than I love my life ! {Cries and kisses him. J^hn Don't unman me, dear. There ! there ! And now f must go. 12 A CELEBrvATED CASK Madeline "Without kissing your child ? John She sleeps, no doubt. Let me but look at her. [Goes to L. D., opens it, looks in, Madeline folloivincj him. They look in, then at each other. Madeline The poor darling ! She has not even un- dressed, but fell asleep saying her prayers. John Don't forget nie in your own. Madeline Never, John — never ! (John kisses his hand to t-ie sleeping/ child, softly recloscs the door, takes up his musket. Madeline, yoing to r. d., opening it and peering out, nods her head. John ±^ow 1 must be gone. Madeline Nothing — no one ! (John embraces her and exits r. d. She follows him out ■whispering. They disappear a moment. Closing door after them. [Pause. £mpty stage. (Lazare is seen at ivindow, c. Opens, enters, goes straight to dresser; tries drawer in which Madeline p/accrf casket. Lazare Locked ! She did take the key ! If I smash it he may hear the noise. So much the worse for her. [On tiptoe goes to wall beside the door.) She is coming. [Goes quickly behind door, r. (Madeline enters, halts, holding door open, looking out as if unable to give uj) the hope of catching another glimpse of John. Sighs, turns. As she turns, Lazare clajJs the door to and steps in front of it. Madeline [Starting back to l. h.) Ah ! Lazare (r., threateningly.) Silence ! Madeliyie (l.) Who are you ? What do you want? Lazare Never mind who lam. What do I want? I want the money and jewels in that drawer. Madeline There is nothing in it. Lazare I know better. I was on the battle-field. I saw the treasure c- egress from the Park. At the L., resting on natural rocks, a terrace overlooking the public highioay supposed to pass in front of said Park. Drop represents beautiful Provencal landscape, the horizon of which meets the sea. In one of the rocks, r., is a spring of fresh water, for the reception of which ivater a basin has been rudely scooped out of the rock itself. Climbing shrubbery well down the stage ; l., up stage, flight of marble steps leading to Chateau. A.t rise of curtain, Adrienne and the Duchess d'Aube- TERRE are sifting toell doivn L. H. The Duchess is read- ing from a book. Adrienne is embroidering. The Duchess commences the conversation, laying down her book as she does commence. Duchess Don't you think your father stays very long, Aclrienne ? Adrienne It is quite a distance to Toulon. It takes an hour to go, an hoiir to return. He had to see aboxit the new works to Avhich the convicts are to be sent- Papa can't expect to have been created Duke d'Aube. terre, been made a General, and Governor of Provence in order to do nothing, you know. Duchess True, child ; but I am always miserable when either of you is away from me. I was so the whole four years you were at the College of Heyres, though I knew you were under a better guardianship than my own when with the Chanoinesse. You see I have no child but you, and my heart — [Duke speaks out- side.) — Ah, here is your father. Duke {Outside.) Pshaw! a soldier. Come along, man, the Chateau d'Aubeterre is not the Palais de Versailles. [Adrienne, rising, rushes to meet her father, who enters ii. by gate of Park, and who takes Adrienne in his arms and kisses her. A CELEBRATED CASE. 27 Adrienne Who is with you ? Duke A lieutenant. Adrienne What lieutenant ? [ Js they come doivn to the Duchess. Duke Lieutenant Raonl de Langey. [To Duchess:] Arrived yesterday. Adrienne And lie is now a lieutenant ? Duke Yes. In two or three days I shall present him to the Duke de Choiseuil, who will honor us with a visit. Duchess r shall be glad to see the boy, and proud to welcome the Minister of France. But where is Kaoul ? Duke [Lau(/hin(/'\ Oh, he's stopped at every step by some delighted member of the household. Even O'Rourke, out of Avhom I have never been able to obtain the slightest service, is now dusting him from head to foot. Raoul \^Outside, then entering, persistently followed by O'Rourke dusting his back as he yoes.] Thanks, friends, thanks ! Thanks, O'Rourke. 0''Rourke Sure an' it's wilkum ye are, Lieutenant. [Raoul goes quickly over to Duchess and kisses her hand. Duchess Welcome, Chevalier. Raoul \_Crosses to Adrienne] Mademoiselle! Adrienne [ With emphasis^ Lieutenant. \^Ccremonious minuet, courtesy. Duke [Laugki7ig.'\ Phew ! How cei'emonious you are ! O^Rourke \^Aside\ It's kissing aych other they'd like to be instead of bobbin' up and down in that way. Duke O'Rourke! [O'Rourke keeps his eye upon the young people, not heed- ing thecal I of the Duke. O^Roarke \^Aside^ It's a pritty couple they'd make. Duke \Impatiently'\ O'Rourke ! Qi'Rourke \Same business] That couple is made for aycli other as sure as the soord is made for the scabbard. Duke [Angrily'\ O'Rourke ! Qi'Rourke Has yer Grace anything to communicate ? 28 A CELEBRATED CASE Duke I called you three times ! Are you becoming deaf? O'Rourke How can I oblige yere Grace ? Duke Get seats. O'Rourke Sayts, iz it? Av coorse — av coorse — Gen- eral. \_Goes up stagei\ Joseph ! Enter Joseph. Joseph, his Grace wants to sit down. [Joseph brings some chairs forivard. All sit down and talk in low voice. Duke [To O'Rourke] Why did you not bring the seats yourself ? O'Rourke I beg your Grace's pardon ; but what would Joseph have been doing in the niayne thime ? Duke And in the mean time what did you do ? O'Rourke Me, your Grace ? Oh, nawthin, av coorse. Duke Nothing, of course, as usual. O'Rourke [With kind patronizing manner'] As usual, av coorse. Duke [Drijhj] Very well. I'll talk to you by and by O'Rourke Yis, your Grace — by and by. I haven't had my poipe yit. [Starts to go. Duke O'Rourke! O'Rourke [Stopinng] Yie, sir. Duke I've not had my coffee. O'Rourke Begora, I forgot. I haven't had mine ayther ! An' I'd betther go and get it. [Exit up stage. Duke [To Adrienne] You see how impossible it is to do anything Avith the fellow. There must be an end to it. Adrienne Don't be angry, father. I'll order your coffee myself. [Exits over terrace^ l. 3 e. Duke [Looking after her] You must find that Adrienne has much changed during your two years of absence. She's a young woman now — fit to be married, Raoul [ Troubled] Yes — yes — and probably she will be soon ? Duke As soon as we can find a gentleman worthy of her. I must have a lofty name. A CELEDRATED CASE. 29 Raoul. And — doubtless a largo fortune. Duchess. That is indispensable in our time. Duke In all times, ray dear. She must be able to fitly hold her rank at Court. Raoul {^Sighing.) True, sir. Adrienne. i^Eiiitriny^ followed by Joseph loith tray.) What are you talking about? Duke Of the coming time when you will leave us. Adrienne Leave you? What for? Duke To get married. Adrienne [Handing Duke a cup of coffee.) Oh, that day I hope is yet far away ! / am not one of those y)ird!i who like to fly away as soon as they feel their wings, Mr. Lieutenant. Raoul One cannot always help it. A soldier must follow his flag. Duke (^Putting hack cup.) Joseph ! take this awa}'. Tell O'Rourke to bring me those papers I brought from Tuulon, and bid them saddle a horse for M. Raoul de Langey. Adrienne Going again, so soon ? Duke Yes. He must go and meet a convoy of galley slaves that are being transferred to Toulon on the new works. I had him assigned the duty that he might visit us Re-enter Joseph, with papers^ l. doion steps. Well ! Why didn't O'Rourke bring them ? Joseph This is Mr. O'Rourke's time for his evening walk, sir. Duke Indeed ! Tell him to come to me. (Reads pcqiers and signs some. Raoul [As if about to start.) I must al'*o visit my god-mother, the Directress of ,the College of Hyeres. Duchess A noble lady. I'll never forget her kind- ness to Adrienne during the four years she spent there. But you need not go to Hyeres to see her. She will be here in an instant. Adrienne Yes, with my dearest friend, my college companion — my sister, my dear Valentine. Duke l^Risiuff.^ Time is up, Raoul. You will ex JO A CELEBRATED CASE. change these papers with the officer you are to relieve. Now be off. Enter Chanoixesse and Valentine, r. 3 e. Chan [Entering.'] Must he go, just as I come ? Raoul God -mother ! C/ion Don't be surprised. [Boios all round. Val^ ENTiNB rushes to Adrienne. They whisper eagerly.] I knew that line officer had returned, [with finesse,) and felt sure I'd find him here. [Touching Raoul on breast :) The iron lieart turns to the magnet, eh ? Duke You must not detain him. Raoul, run. Jump in your saddle. You can be back in half an hour. Chan Don't spare the spur, for I have to tell you of some matters of the utmost importance. Raoul Ti'ust my impatience. [Kisses Chan's hand ; hows to the rest, and rushes off. Chun [Looking after Mmi\ He is a fine, gallant fel- low. (Siffhs.) The very image of his father ! Isn't he, Governor? I>u/ce [kSmiling.'] Yes, the same frank, noble bearing. Chan The same bright yet soft eyes. (As if chasing away some memory .) But let us talk of something else. Valentine ! [ To Duke and Duchess.] My favorite pupil, almost my daughter, tlie friend of yours during her stay at college. She is the daughter of a proscribed family, left in my care with such extreme caution that Valoitine is the only name I call her by. But I see they wish to talk. Here that's not forbidden. At col- lege it is, and therefore they talk all the more. (Laugh- ing.) Forbidden fruit. [Chanoinesse and Duchess exit to Chateau, l. 3 e., as O'Rourke enters, c, over terrace. Duke [To O'Rourke.] Oh ! there you are, are you ? Adrienne Father ! Duke Well ? Adrienne For my sake do not be angry with O'Rourke. Remember how, when I had recovered from my long illness and could not remember either my mother or you, I recognized his face ; and it seems to me as if I had known and loved him for his love for me in another world. Father, bear with him for my sake. A CELEBRATED CASE. 31 Buke [Much moved.] I will, dear, I will. [Louder] O'Rourke ! CRourke Can I serve your Grace in any way ? Duke Come with me. [To Adrienne :] I leave you with your young friend, Ma'amselle. [Bows to Valentine, who courtesies in return. [Duke exits, folloioed hy O'Rourke, xoho as he goes out turns and blows a kiss to Adrienne, who returns it.] Bsih girls walking to and fro, anns about each other's waists.] Valentine Oh it's so nice to be together again ! And now tell me are you entirely recovered ? Adrienne From the delirious fevers I used to have, I think I am. Valentine And those strange visions that troubled you so much ? Adrienne They disappeared for a time. But lately at night they come again ; only last night — Valentine Were you ill? Adrienne No. I fell asleep calmly enough. But in the middle of the night I felt my heart beat strangely. I woke. I'm sure I woke. The darkness seemed grad- ually illumined by a sinister light; and again I saw the same strange, sad face, whose quiet eyes seemed riv- eted to mine. Again I heard the same voice, laden wilh the same sorrow, whisper in my ears, the same fatal and solemn words, " Yon have destroyed me, my child, but re- member that I love and that I forgive you.'''' Valentine [Aside.] Year after year, always tlie sume ! Adrienne Whether I again slept I cannot tell ; but I know that when the light of day stole into the room, and I heard the song of the birds outside, I asked my- self if indeed I was wholly sane. Valentine What an idea ! Adrienne [Shaking her head.] I don't know. You know when I was ver\'^ young liow, after a long illness, I entirely lost my memory ; and when I recovered \ could not recognize my own father nor my mother — only O'Rourke, whose face I at once remembered as 32 A CELEBRATED CASE. that of an old friend. The return of these visions that will not leave me makes me so sad — so sad. Valentine Have you told your mother ? Adrienne Once I tried. But at my very first sentence she was so agitated, so troubled, so frightened, that I determined never to broach the subject to her again. Oh, Valentine, if you were only with me, if you could but remain ! Valentine I will remain. Adrienne But how ? Valentine I'll arrange it with the Chanoinesse. Here she comes for me, accompanied by that young gentle- man. Chrni [Unterinffy l. 3 E.] Come, Mademoiselle, receive the adieux of M. Raoul. He is going back to the army, satisfied that the wisest thing he can do is to get him- self shot. Oh, he has strong reasons. Valentine What reasons? Chan He loves a young lady. Adrienne Ah ! Chan And she does not love him. Adrienne [^Imjndsively.^ Oh, but she does. [^Catches herself, looks down ashamed.'\ Ah ! Chan. {Laughing.) Well, Raoul, was I right ? It only remains for me to settle the matter. Adrienne. Oh, jMadame ! Madame ! Chan. I understand it, dear. He's so like his father — no one could help loving him. Haoul. But, god-mother, the obstacles between us ! Chan. (^4s Duke a«c? Duchess enier.) The obstacles? Here they are. I'll make short work of them, my dear. Will your Graces vouchsafe me a hearing and advice on a most important matter ? Duke — Duchess. Certainly. {They both sit down. Baoul {Aside.) I feel like running away ! Adrienne. {Aside.) I'd like to run. Valentine {To Adrienne.) Courage ! Chan. Raoul is in love with a young lady of noble family. Raoul has no fortune. I have been through that ordeal myself, and know how trying it is. I loved Raoul's father, a poor cadet. The fortune of our house A CKLEBRAT'-:r> CASE. 33 was settled on its eldest son to preserve its dignity. We loved each other, but they manied him to a rich heiress who sought rank, and so, Raoul, I became your god-mother instead of your mother. llaoul (Tenderlt/.) I love you as much as if you were both the former and tlie latter. Chan. {Smiling.) I know it; but I would hive pre- ferred being the latter. Now my brother is dend, nnd the fortune reverts to me— two hundred thousand livres income. Take it, my son, for it is yours. Duke Raoul, now so rich, with a noble name, what ob- stacle can there be to his love? Call in form and ask for the lady's hand. Chan. {To Duchess.) Is that your advice ? Duchess Why certainly. Go and say, Count or Mar- quis — Chan Duke — it's a Duke. Duke {Hesitating) We — well, i Duke and Duchess, I have the honor to ask in marriage for my god-son Raoul de Langey — Duchess The hand of your daughter. Mademoiselle — Chan Adrienne d'Aubeterre. Duke Eh? wliat? Duchess. Adrienne ! Adrienne {Aside to Valentine) Oh, Valentine, I'm sinking ! Valentine You'll float in a minute. Duke So, Raoul de Langey, you love Mile. Adrienne ? Maoid Yes. Duchess And you, Adrienne ? Adrienne Mamma ! Duchess I'm only sorry you did not give us oppor- tunity to consent before you had enriched your god-son. Chan Noble words, Madame. {To Duke :) Did I con- duct the campaign well. General ? Duke Your victoi-y is your answer. We're beaten, {holding out his hand to ^ao<lc'^<^c, and falls into a reverie. Pause. Adrienne appears suddenly, followed by Valen- tine. Valentine Adrienne — don't, I beg. Adrienne [Much agitated.^ I tell you I cannot help it. An impulse stronger than myself pushes me towards this man. I must see him, hear him, or I'll go mad. [Makes a feio steps towards John. Sergeant [Coming doioi.l Looking for your purse, Miss ? Here it is. That man found it and gave it to me to return it to you, Adrienne [Agitated^ It is he. It is, it is ! Sergeant Do you wish to reward him ? 36 A CELEBRATED CASE. Adrienne [ Catching at excuse] Yes ! yes ! May I talk to him ? Sergeant Oh yes, Miss, as much as you like. He's harmless. [ Goes up stage after ordering Co7ivicts up stage. Adrienne {Having by degrees apjyroached ion^.) Sir — Sir, a while ago you refused to accept the money we offered ; will you not now accept something ? Do, pray. John Of what use is money to me — to buy whiter bread ? White or black, the bread that is soaked in tears is always bitter. Adrienne [ To Vaxentine.] It is the voice — the verj'- voice ! Valenti7ie [ Puzzled.^ Can it be ? John [Jvindlg] From you, however, I will accept a souvenir. Adrienne [ Joyfully hands him purse] Ah ! John Not all that. \^Takes out a louis.'] There. Keep the rest. The money that is given to me brings me no good. Valentine For what crime were you condemned ? John \^Bitterly^ What's the use of asking me that ? [Pointing to the other convicts.~\ Ask those men — they will all tell you I am innocent. Valentine Indeed ! Adrienne [ With conviction'] If you will yourself say so I'll believe it. John [ With energy] Then I swear to you that I am in- nocent. Adrienne [Sa7ne to?ie] And I swear to you that I be- lieve it. John Heaven reward you for that word, young lady ! [^Touches his forehead and starts to go. Adrienne [Quickly] One word more. I want to know of what crime you were ace — falsely accused. John 1 was falsely accused of the murder of my own wife, the mother of my own child. Valentine [Shuddering] Oh, it's horrible ! Adrienne [Draioing closer to John] But why were you not executed ? A CELEBRATED CASE. 37 John, My sentence was commuted to the galleys for life. And for twelve years, chained to the oar, nailed to a seat, or dragging a chain in the docks of lirest, I have had but one thought, felt but one pang, my child! What has become of her — alone, abandoned — dead from want — what ! what ? Or does she share with her mother a grave unsprinkled by any human tears ? Valentine But what proofs were there against you ? John {To Adrienne) Do you wish to hear the story ? Adrienne [Her eyes fixed on him) Yes. Tell it to me. John. I was a soldier. The night before F'ontenoy a dying man entrusted me witli family papers and valu- able jewels. He gave me three hundred louis for my- self. Being near my home, I absented myself for three hours and gave these to my Avife, whom I had not seen for two months, for safe-keeping in case I fell in the next day's battle. I returned in time to the camp. The day after the battle I was arrested for the murder of my wife, who must have been assassinated after I left. My daughter, aged only five years, said I was there that night. Valentine And could nothing justify you? John Nothing. The deposit I had made to my wife was gone ; and they said that in a jealous rage I had gone there and killed my poor Madeline. Adrienne [Stuldenly) Madeline ! Madeline ! Valentiyie Wliat's the matter ? Adrienne I don't know, but the name thrilled my heart. (To John:) Say it — speak it again, will you? John I have no reason to shrink from pronouucing the name of my good, dear Madeline. Adrienne (^Sudden! i/, quickly, and joining/ her hands like a child j^rayiny) Holy Mary Madeline, my mother's patron saint, pray for her and for — What am I saying ? Am I going mad ? Valentiyie ( Frightened) Adrienne ! John [Quickly) Who taught you that prayer? Adrienne I don't know. But go on — go on. John Well, they brouglitmy child, my own child, be- fore the tribunal, and on her testimony they convicted me. 38 A CELEBRATED CASE. Adrienne {Almost breathless) And then what did you eay to her ? When you left lier — yes — yes. John Wait — wait. Ah ! Let my Last words re- main graven in your memory. Adrienne {To herself) In your memory — yes ! John " You have killed me, my poor child." Adrienne {As before) Yes, yes ! That's it — " You have killed me ;" yes. John " But I "~ Adrienne { With positive energy/) " — Love and I forgive you." John You have known my child. She alone ever heard those words. Adrienne [Hesitating] No — no one else ever told me those words. I remember them ; that is all. I remember your voice. I remember your features — now as I remember your last words. John [With force.] You remember ! But how ? It is impossible ! Valentine Why certainly it is, Adrienne ! Adrienne I don't know "how." I know I have a father and a mother, whom I love, adore. Yet I know I remember you. I know that those heartrending words were spoken to me by you. John Spoken by me to you ? [O'RouRKE comes, as if looking for ADniK's^m. John sees him, recognizes hi?n,] O'Rourke ! Tis he— near her ! O'llourke ! [ CRourke goes uj) to John. OfRourke John Renaud ! John \Takes O'Rourke hy xorist wit}), left hand, points upioard with his right.] Before the God that hears and sees us both, tell me what you did with my child ? O^JRozirke Your — your child ? John O'Rourke ! Before God ! 0''Rourke [Looking at Adrienne.] I made her the adopted daughter of the Duke and Duchess d'Aubeterre. John [Staggtring as if about to fall] My child! {Weej^s.] She — she ia ray daughter. A CELEBKATED CASE. 39 Adrienne \^Falling on her knees and kissing John's hands^ tvhile uhe cries over them.'] Father ! My poor innocent father ! And it Avas I — 1 who convicted hitn ! [Cries. John And it is my daughter — so beautiful — so — [ Opens his arms. Adrienne [Her head on his shoulder] O father — father ! [Pause. John [Gently disengages himself] But I must not hold you to my heart. Adrienne Why not ? John It seems a sacrilege to touch you with these convict's clothes — an outrage to purity — to — this shame- ful chain ! Adrienne It was I put them on you. I riveted those chains — I. And I am not worthy to touch thee. [ Weeps. O'Rourke [Looking at her] Poor child ! I had made her so happy. John I understand. I should have suffered on to the end, and not have recognized her, but man — man — I — 0''Rourke [Pressing his hand] You couldn't help it. I know — don't I know your heart ? It's only naythur ! John. Adrienne Father, there must be some clue to your in- nocence. If it be but fine as a spider's web, my eyes will see it, my devotion will find it. Valentine We'll seek it together, sister. Johi [Slowli/.] Oh, I've thought and thought ; but I can see only the one chance. Valentine [Eagerly.] What is it ? Adrienne Go on, father. John Tlie jewels and papers of the Count de Momay which the real assassin must have stolen, were placed in a box of my wife's, in which was the only jewel we had — a necklace, given her on our wedding-day by the then Countess Aubeterre. If that necklace could be traced — or if the Count de Mornay had survived — Valentine Describe the necklace. John It was made of emeralds, sapphires, and rubies, and from the clasp there hung a locket on which were 40 A CELEBRATED CASE, set three diamonds. Through that the real assassin might be traced ; or if the Count de Mornay still exists, which I cumot tell, for we are permitted no news, you know — and — [sicjhs] — and it is twelve years ago. Adrienne If M. de Mornay still exists, we'll find him, 0''Rourke As sure as ivir a badger found a rabbit ! [Drum-call. Sergeant [Coming in, to Convicts] Come, get up there ! Adrienne 3Iust he go ? O^Rourke Yis, darlint ; he must obey. Join [In whisper, looking round him.] Farewell, my child, farewell ! Adrienne No, only good-by for a little while, I hope, father/ John My child ! * CRourke [Shyly] Keep dark. Johji Yes, yes. None of mv shame shall shadow her life — none ! I'll be careful — careful. [As they exit. CURTAIN. ACT IL Salon in the Chateau d''Aubeterre, the owner of which is a Duke. Entrances, R., L., and c. At rise of curtain, Val- entine and Adrienne enter, r. 2 e., the former trying to soothe the latter. Valentine You must calm yourself, dear. Adrienne How can I ? I who condemned him. He so good, 80 kind. Did you see how his eyes filled with tears of love when he knew me ? I who plr.eod tliat chain on — on — I — Valentine If he were here, lie would foi-bid yonr accusing yourself — A CKLEliRATED CASE. 41 Enter O'RouRKE, r. O'^Rourhe That's just what he's a-doin' this instant through my lips, acushla. Adr iff fine What ? 0''Routkt I saw him asfin foreninst the cheerch. " Hivin is hard on ye, John," says I. "No," says he, "no. By lettin' me see my poor child safe and happy, it has repaid me for the twelve years of man's injustice." It took the thorn out of his heart to see you, avourneen. "Tell her," he said, " tell her not to accuse lierself. It's the fault of the law " — and so it is, and I always said. Bad cess to the laAV ! a law that ttirns a man's own flesh and blood into a witness agin himself. Why, the haythens wouldn't have such a lav*- — The Duchess ! Valentine Your mother ! Adrienne (Aside.) 1 can no longer call her that. Duchess [Enteri)ig, l. h.) I was looking for you both. You know to-morrow we expect M. de Choiseuil — But what ails you, Adrienne ? Adrienne Me? Duchess Yes. You've been crying. What for? Adrienne What for ? Duchess Come, my daughter, tell me. Adrienne Yes, yes, I will tell you, Mada — Mother. Will you not leave us together ? Duchess It must be something very serious. Adrienne Very serious and very sad. Valentine {Kissing Adrienne.) Courage. \^Exit^ R. 2 E, ORourke Rimim^ber, dear, you're a soldier's daughter, and Sergeant O'Kourke will always be nay re you. \^Exeunt 0''KouRKii following Valentine, e. 2 e. Duchess Come, now we are alone. Sit here by my side, and tell me what ails my child. Adrienne (Kneeling before the DuCHiss.) By your side ! Duchess Why, child, what are you doing? Adrienne Yes, yes ! let me here recall all your tender- ness, all your goodness — your tears when I sufiered, your joy when I was joyful. What is a mother that you have not been to me — nurse, protectress, teacher — all ! 42 A CELEBRATED CASE. Duchess [Quickly.) What do you mean? Adrienne I meau that I know you are not my mother. Duchess What matters it ? When O'Rourke placed you, a weak, puny, dying child in my arms, I accepted you as one sent by Heaven to replace the one it had taken from me. After your long, long illness, when reason returned, was not your first Avord addressed to me, and was not that word Mamma ! Ask your own heait if it loves me any less since the wicked have re- vealed the fatal truth to you ? Adrienne Oh no, no ! Duchess Does not my fear to lose you find an echo in your own soul ? And if I were to die — Adrienne I think I should die too. Duchess You see you are my daughter. Adrietme {FirinUj.) But my father. — my true father — lie is alive. Duchess (Bises, ?nuch agitated.) Your father ! Adrienne {Siill more firmly.) I owe him my whole life. To him I am bound by a solemn duty — Duchess He is living ! Adrienne That is why — {corrects herself) — Madame — Duchess (Much pained) Madame ! Adrienne Why, I must part from you. Duchess Part from me? {Takes her in her arms.) Never, never ! Enter Raoul, Duke, and O'Rourke, r., followed by two Servants carrying caskets, fioioers, and large basket. Ser- vants exit, R. Adrienne {Aside.) Raoul ! I had forgotten him. Alas ! Duke Tears ! Hang it ! a wedding is not a funeral. See here ! Raoul and I have emptied half the shops in Toulcn. Raoul {Approaching Adrienne.) I couldn't find any- thing half beautiful enough for you. Adrienne Yes. These presents are worthy the daughter of the Duke and Duchess d'Aubeterre ; but I cannot accept ftem. I have not the right. Di '" Adrienne ! A CELEBIiATIiD CASE. 43 O^Rourlce Don't, acushla — don't suy that. Adrierme Raoul, I did uot know it ; but I am harbored here only from a loving kindness I can never repay. I am not the daughter of — Raoul I knew it. Duke I thouglit it but right he should know it. And 1 was certain it would not change his sentiments. Raoul My love! Duke She came to us an orphan, we received and adopted her ; and to-day she is, in the eyes of the law and of all, la de/noiseUe cV Aubeterre ! Adrienne She can remain such no longer, for she was not wholly an orphan. My father lives ; 1 have seen him. Duke {To O'Koukke) Did you not, when you brought her here in your arms, say that she was alone in the world, and that no one could ever claim her? O'Rourke {Doggedly) And no one does claim her. Duke But she says she has met her father. 0''Rourk€. {Still doggedly) Well, a f oiner man or bitter soldier never bent shoe-leather. You know him — John Renaud, Duke John Renaud, the assassin — Duchess — Of Madeline, my poor foster-sister ! Adrietine No, no. My father never did commit that crime. O^Rourke It's the truth she's spakin'. There nivir was any proof agin him — Adrienne — But that of a child whom they forced to testify. That child was I. Duke {Aside) She that— his child ! {To O'Rourke :) Explain this. O'Rourke In coorse I will, Duke. After John was sintinced I was sint away on duty. The poor babby was left in the great big coort by herself, because Martha was at the ambulance with little Jimmy, who had a ball in his shoulder. Duchess Poor child ! O'Rourke Ye may well say that, for she hadn't a soul in the world she could belong to. Well, next day, in celebration of the great victory, there was high mass and 44 A CELEBRATED CASK. a Tay Day-hum, Wlien all ^yas silent, and his rivirence— glory be to his soul ! — had rayched theaylay-vay-shun, a child's cry was hird; and the colleen, no bigger nor that, went toddling up the cintre aisle. Some wanted to stop the craythur, out of rispict for the sarvice, but his rivirence knew the child, and said, •' Let her come home. For this is the house of Him who said, ' Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not.' " Half the brigade was there, Juke ; and — and they — the divils — did what I am doing now. [ Wipes his eyes. Duchess [Folding AvRiEisi^E in her arms) My poor, poor child ! Duke Go on, O'Rourke. You needn't be ashamed of your tears. 0''Rourke I'd be ashamed of myself if I was. Next day I got a furlough from your Grace, and I went and took my old comrade's child from the poor man in the sacristy. It was the black fayvor was upon her ; but J got her as far as the gate of the park yonder, for I was a-makin' of my way to Toulon, thinking John was there. But I heard he was at Brest. Jist then the Duchess cum out in her carriage, spoke to me, and you know the rist. She took her from me arms to her own. I thought it but fair, share, that the man who condimned the father should feed the child. Duke But why did you not tell us whose child she was ? 0''Rourke I didn't want her to be trated as the child of an assassin, when I knew her father was an innocent man. Duke How do you know that ? O^Rourke Will yoa till me wan thing? Duke What? O'Rourke Why did they comm-yute liis sintence ? Duke Because of his heroic action the day before at Fontenoy. 0''Rourke Indayd ! And a wise man like you thinks a coward can kill a woman one night, and bo a hayro on the battle-field nixt morning. I'll believe that when I see paving-shtoues boiled into maily potatoes. A CELEBRATED CASE. 45 Adrienne \^Who thro u git all this has been eagerly tvatchhig O'RouRKE, throws herself into his arms,] God bless your honest heart ! I've never loved you half as much as I ought. 0''Rourke Now, then, curafirt yourself, acushla, do. There, there. Adrienne You'll not leave me ? O'Rourke I couldn't, darlint. An O'Rourke could nayvir layve a woinan in trouble. Raoid Nor will I, Adrienne. The faith I pledged to you I will keep. The word I gave I give again. And be it soon or be it late, till the hour you come and say, " Raoul, here's my hand," I will wait ior it, in faith and honor. O^RourTce The rayle gintleman and the thrue man always s])pake the same sintiments, it's only the lan- guage differs. Adrienne [To Raoul.] I should have been so happy ! But Heaven has given me a different task ; and I must bid you an eternal farewell. Dtike Farewell ! Duchess No ; no, no ! Raoul Adrienne ! [Adrienne turns to go, stops at the baskets, takes out a bou quet, presses it to her lips^ weeping. Pause, Entiir Joseph, c. l. Duke What now ? Joseph Will your Grace receive the Count de JMornay ? Adrienne [ Vehemently^ The Count de Mornay ! All The Count de Mornay ! Duke [Moved) Are you sure that's the name ? Joseph Yes, your Grace. Adrienne {Half crazed) That's the name ; the very name my father mentioned. " He may still live," he said, "and he could justify me." It must be he, Duke. Duke Twelve years ago there remained but two of the family bearing that name. One, an old man in exile ; the other his son, who, it is said, was killed at Fontenov. Adrienne Heaven would not let him die. He live^, 'Tis he— 'tis he, Duke ! 46 A CELEBRATED CASE. Duke [To Joseph) Tell the gentleman I will see him. [Exit Joseph. Adrienne. The Count de Mornay ? It is salvation— my father's redemption and my own. Do you hear, Duke ? Raoul, do you hear? and you, mother — mother ! [Kneels S^ore Duchess, ivhose hands she covers with j^assion- ate kisses. Duke Calm yourself, Adrienne, calm yourself; and let me interrogate the gentleman. Adrienne Never fear, sir. I'll not say a word, not one. {Rising.) I'll Avait. I know he will justify my father. I'll wait patiently. Enter Joseph, c. l. Joseph The Count de Mornay ! Enter Lazare, c. l. Lazare I trust your Grace will excuse my calling on one with whom I have not yet the honor to be acquaint- ed, when I inform you of the \ery powerful reasoi.^ that make it a duty. Duke [Semi-questio7i.) You are the Count de Mo.. ^ay .' Lazare At your Grace's service. Duke A native of Provence ? Lazare And the sole survivor of that unfortunate family whom the rigors of the Ancien Regime forced into exile. Adrienne [Aside to Dltchess.) 'Tis he ! 'tis he ! Lazare The reversal of the decree by his ]\Iaj'^'=ty Louis XV. brings me here, and will cause me to Ci.ll again on your Grace in j^our quality of Governor-Gene- ral of this Province, that I may be reinstated by you into the titles and demesnes of our house. Duke To-morrow we expect the Duke de Choiseuil, his Majesty's Minister, to honor us Avith a visit on his way to Toulon: and I shall lay your request before him. Lazare I expect no less from your known justice and courtesy ; but of matters of business there will be time enough to talk. It is a dearer and more sacred mo'ive that brings me to your Grace's house to-dav. A CELEBRATED CASE. 47 Adrienne [Aside.) All ! Duke Indeed, sir? Lazare When I quitted France, I left for safety and education my on^y child, a daughter aged only live years, at the college of Ilyeres, in charge of the Chanoi- nesse. Adrienne [Eagerly.) And her name is Valentine — is it not? Lazare [Looking attentively at Adrienne.) Yes; as soon as I landed in France I wrote to have her sent to me, but heard in reply that she and Madame la Chanoinesse were at the Chateau d'Aubeterre. \_Taking Adrienne by the hand :) Can it be you ? Adrienne I — I am — Duke [Rising, quickly.) Our adopted daughter. Duchess [Hising, j)ositively.) My daughter — yes, my daughter. Lazare I beg your pardon — But Valentine — Duke You shall see her in an instant, sir. O'Rourke ! (Lazare looks at O'Roukke ; O'Rourke looks at him. 0''Roiirke Yiss, yer Grace ? Duke Request Miss Valentine to please come to me. O'Rourke Yiss, your Grace. [Aside-^ I don't like the look of that fiUar's physiognomy. [Exit., r. 2 e. Duchess To Lazare.] Had you arrived but a couple of hours sooner you would have had an opportunity to thank the good Chanoinesse for her great love to Valen- tine. She left here but this morning. Adrienne [Aside.l^ Valentine's father ! and it is in his hands that lies my father's fate — and my own. Enter O'Rourke, r. 2. e., announcing: Hayre's the young lady. Enter Valentine, r. 2. e. Valentine Was it your Grace sent ? Duke Yes, my dear; you can now thank Heaven for granting your so frequent prayex'. Valentine [Looking at Lazare.) But — that prayer to Heaven was that it would lend me my — Duke Your proscribed father. Well, there he is. 48 A CELUBKATED CASE. Valentine My father ! I liad so long prayed to knoT, him ! Lazare Your pi-ayer is granted, and we'll never more be separated. Adrienne But, Valentine, think, think ! If he brings you happiness, what is it he brings to me ? Your father is called the Count de Mornay. Valentine The Count de Mornay ! O^Rourke [Slowli/\ Yiss, the Count de Mornay ! Lazare [To AdrienneJ Certainly ; but lam at a loss to divine how that name can have interest for you. Adrienne Oh, you will know soim, sir. I>uke When you left France, twelve years ago. Count, after sending youi daughter to the College of Hyeres, did you not proceed to Flanders ? Lazare Certainly. I sought an exile's i-efuge through that road, then ravaged by that fearful war. Adrienne Were you not one night seriously wounded near the high-road ? Lazare [Aston'uhed.'] Severely wounded ! Yes, yeSj I certainly was. [Aside :\ What are they after ? Adrienne A soldier, attracted by your groans, carafe to your rescue ? Lazare [Hesitating.^ A — a soldier ? Adrienne [In strong emotion.^ Recall the night. You were dying. Pie came to your aid. You contided to him your name, your gold, jewels, and family papers. Lazare [Aside.^ Hm ! I see, I see. Adrienne [Eagerly) Well, sir, well ? Lazare {Slowly, as if to gain time.) I really do not see what interest the adventure can have for his Grace the Duke, or for a j'oung lady like yourself, who must have been a mere infant at the time. There is no reason now to make any mystery about it. Valeyitine Speak, father. Lazare You are right: a soldier did come to my aid, and I confided to him my name, and the residence of ray exiled father, to whom he promised to forward the news of my death, for of course I never expected to survive. A CELKBUATED CASE. 49 Adrienne And you gave to his keeping your jewels and papers ? Lazare (^Ironically laughiny) Oh no, no ! Adrienne How, no ? Lazare [Quietly) No. Proscribed Ly France, tlie enemy of England, seeking passage through the armies of both in order to reach an exiled father, I should have been a fool to carry on my person jewels or family papers. AVe had safer means than that. If we had iiot had, I should not now have my family's litle-deeds of all its property, my own passports, my father's, my jewels, all here, to establish at once my claims and my identity, as well {lo Valentine) as yours, my child. Adrienne {^Despairingly) Nevertheless, there is a man who says — who swears — Lazare {As if astonished) Says — swears! {As if suddenly recalling some forgotten fact:) Oh, I understand. Yes, yes. Oh, I heard of that celebrated case of the soldier who assassinated his Avife, and was convicted on the tes- timony of his own child. It reached me even iu my ex- ile. Yes, yes, I recollect ; he built up some defence in my name. Probably he was the soldier who did succor me, and that fact suggested to him the defence he offered. But the man was guilty. He doubtless killed his wife. Adrienne { Who had been listening to him ivith her whole soul.) He ! he ! It's all over now ! [I'alls in a faint; all surround her. Valentine Adrienne ! Adrienne ! 0''Rourke {To Lazare) And you, sir, have killed his daughter. Lazare His daughter ! CURTAESr. 60 A CELEBRATED CASE. ACT III. Same set as last act. At rise of curtain, Lazare is dis- covered sitting at a table, l. c, on lohich is placed a large strong-box, which is 02)en and full of jewels, laces^ etc. Lazare (Solus) So I find that child here! She whose infant screams I have since so often seemed to hear, recalling the image of her pale, blood-stained mother. Pshaw ! (Pause.) By heavens! when she implored me so to clear her father, a vertigo seemed to seize me. I came near betraying my- self. (Rises, u'alks tJiougfttfully up and doivn the room.) Pshaw ! Pm safe ; there is no going behind those (pointing to strong-box) proofs. For twelve years, in prison or out of ppison, rich or poor, hungry or well fed, I have never lost sight of these proofs. I will now have the reward of my patience and long-suffering. There is not a De Mornay left. Nothing risk, nothing win. If I win, I am a Seigneur, bearer of a historic name, and peer of France. T will wait and see this Minister Choiseuil. (Strikes on gong-bell. Enter Julia, lady's maid, from D. R. 2 E. Lazare (l. c.) Has Mile. Mornay finished her toilette? Julia (r. c.) Yes, sir ; she is ready to start whenever you wish. Lazare Tell her I wish to see her (Exit Julia r. 2 e.) She must assist at this reception this evening ; for, after all, it is throuffh her mother the greater number of these valu- able titles came into the family, and they establish her rights far more than mine. Enter Valentine at door r. 2 e. Valentine (b. c.) You sent for me, father? Lazare I wished to see you dressed as befits your rant You look beautiful. Valentijie Father ! A CELEBRATED CASE. 51 Lazare But why are you so sad ? Valentine I can't help it, father; my heart bleeds foi poor Adrienne. Lazare That will's name again ? Vcdentine I saw her lying at my feet so pale, so cold, and you would not let me remain with her, who has been a sister to me so many years. Lazare It is not fittino- that my daughter should thus treat as an equal, as a sister, the dau<>;!iter of — Valentine [Quickh/) If her father be p,"uiity, which I suppose he must be since you annihilate tiic only proofs lie ever suircrested of his innocence ; vet Adrienne is so noble, 80 good. We have loved each other so long! She would like you, too — Lazare {Violently) Xever — never! Valentine (Astonished) Father ! Lazare My decision on this matter is irrevocable ; do you Hear? — irrevocable \ Valentine Irrevocable ! Lazare Forget that girl, the child of a miserable assassin. Forget her, I say. {Crosses to r. Valentine (l. c ) But however much an object of horror or reprobation her father may be to others, surely you, at all events, must have some pity for him. Lazare {Nervously) I ? What do you mean ? Valentine Did you not say he succored you when you ttiought you were dying on the battle-field ? Lazare I paid him for that. Did he not say so himself ? "^alentine Well, that money, too, never w^as found, for it was stolen by some miserable assassin, who killed the mother almost before the very eyes of her own child. Lazare {Semi-frantic) Enough ! enough ! Stop, I tell you ! I bid you stop ! Valentine {Astonished) Why, father — Lazare Don't talk to me about him any more, nor about that woman, nor her child. Do you hear, eh ? Do you hear ? Never ! never ! ( Crosses to l. h. Valentine (r. c.) Calm yourself, father. Of course I will obey you. But I don't understand — 52 A CELEBRATED CASE. Lazare {Suddenhj recovering) You are right, dear. 1 ought not to let this matter auger me so. But yesterday r/e were a proscribed family. To-day, returning to re- establish our claims — I say ours, for they are yours more than mine — we need be careful. We must think only of the name we bear and th*^ duty we owe it. Vcdentine You will never need to blush for me, sir. Lazare So be it. {^Seeing Julia enter :) Now complete your toilette, my child. (^Suddenly ;) And here [j^oint'mg to box) you will find some old family laces, some fine jewels, with which your poor mother so loved to deck herself. Take your choice, for they are yours, darling. Make your- self neautiful. [Starts to exit c. l , suddenly turns, stops :) Remember ray injunction. Valentine (Sadly) Yes, father ; yes. [Mcit Lazare c. l. Valentine [Seated r. c, soliloquy :) It is strange he should not have some pity for the man who saved his life. Julie Well, Ma'amselle ? Well, Ma'amselle ? Valentine [Awakening from her revery) Oh ! it's you, Julie. Julie Shall we oo on dressino;? Valentine [Bitterly) Dressing ? I suppose I must. [Soliloquizing :) Why should he fly into such sudden anger, and seem so violently agitated, when I speak of Adrienne, her mother, and John Reuaud ? Julie [Searching in box) Won't you choose amid these old Flemish laces? Here is a point d'Alengon would become you to perfection. Valentine 1 leave that to you. I'm no judge. Julie Will you wear a bracelet and necklace ? Valentine I suppose so. Julie They are all so beautiful, I don't know which to choose. Valentine Any of them will do. Julie [Admiringly] Here is a necklace of pearls, and another of amethysts. And here is one made of emeralds, sapphires, and rubies — so beautifnl ! Vfalentine \_Starting up quickly] What's that ? A CELEBRATED CASE. 53 Jutie They are all so lovely. Valentme Did you say a necklace of emeralds, sapphires, and — Julie And rubies • yes, Ma'amselle Valentine [To herself] How foolish ! I suppose many necklaces are made alike. Jnlie The clasp is remarkably rich. Valentine A clasp of gold — but — no — no locket — no locket, eh? Julie Oh, yes ! A beautiful locket, sot with — Valentine [Quickli/] Set with three diamonds. Julie Just so ! Ma'amselle has already seen it ? Valentine [Agitated) Give it to me. That is the one I want. [Takes collar from Julie; then in broken sentences:) The sapphires — the emeralds — the rubies — the locket ! The collar of which John Renaud spoke in every particular. Taken with the other jewels by the assassin of Madeline. Then it was he — my fa — Oh, 1 must be mad ! what am I saying? But why did my father tremble so — seem so agi- tated — at the reference to the assassination of Madeline ? Julie Ah, here comes her Grace. Valentine The Duchess — ah, it was she gave Madeline the necklace of which Renaud spoke. Through her I will know. Enter Duchess, l. c. Duchess ( To Julie) Leave us, Julie. \Exit Julie, r. 2 e. Valentine [Aside) 'Tis he can fix my fate. Duchess Why, you are quite agitated ! [Takes her hand) You are all in a tremble ! Valentine The various events since yesterday — I feel so — I think my head is afiected. Poor Adrienne ! Duchess [Thankfully) 'Tis for her you tremble ? Valentine Yes — yes. Duchess She wants to goto her father — poor child ! Come to her, Valentine — come. Valentine [Piteously) My father has forbidden me. He 54 1 CBLEBRATBD CASE. will not, he says, have his daughter hold any relations with the child of an assassin. Duchess Poor Adrienne ! Valentine And there is now no doubt of her father's guilt. Buchestt The declaration of your father sweeps away the last hope of his innocence. Valentine The story he invented for his defence. jDifchesfi Alas ! all a lie. Valentine The gold, the jewels, the papers confided to him that be was carrying to his wife. Duchess Lies — lies — all lies ! Valentine And the necklace you gave Madeline, the mis- erable man did away witk to divert suspicion — the collar of topazes and sapphires. I believe — Duchess No, it was made of sapphires, emeralds, and rubies. Valentine Oh, yes ! So he told Adrienne — it had a me dallioi). Duchess A medallion or locket, that opened by pressing the centre diamond, of which there were three. My Christian name was cut on it. Valentine Your name ? Duchess Yes, "Marguerite." Valentine [Aside, despairingly) Is this it ? — it burns my very fingers. Duchess But what ails you? What are you clutching so nervously in your hand ? Valentine One of the jewels they want me to wear at the presentation. I never wore jewels. [Pointing to casket :) If you would choose for me — Duchess (Astonished at Adriexne's manner) Well, let me see the one you have there. Valentine [QuicJchj) No — no! Not that— I don't like it — I can't — I won't wear it ! Duchess Well, then — [goes to box, l. h.) — let us see the others Valentine [Aside, jnoving away from Duchess, towards A CELEHIiATEU (JABE. 55 R. H.) The centre diamond. (Presftes on it holds it by her side moarj from Duchess, looks at it.) Ah ! " Marguerite"! ( Stm/yers. Duchess {^Turning toivards her) Why, child ! — (runs to her) — what is the matter ? Valentine [Controlling herself) Nothing, Madame, nothing. [Turns away a little. Duchess Bat that cry ? Valentine A sudden thought of poor Adriennc. And 1 will have none of those jewels — I will not go to this presen- tation. Duchess But it is a matter of ver}' great importance, child — hoth for your father and yourself. After we have won your cause with M. de Choiseuil, I will obtain your father's consent to your seeing Adrienne. Valentine Yes — yes — I must see her. It is not she that must be condemned to despair — not she ! not she ! Duchess I see yon need quiet. There— there! The Duke and I will come for you when the time for presenta- tion arrives. There — there ! (Kisses her and exits, l. c. Valentine (Solus) Am I in my right mind ? On the one hand a man whom everything condemns — even the testi- mony of his own child ! On the other (with bitterness) a man respected, honored, with a noble name, bearing in hi? hand the titles, the papers of his family, (laying her hand on box on fable, l. h.,) and among tliem this — [holding up neck^ lace) — this irrefutable proof that he is the murderer. There can be no doubt of it this man is the assassin ; and this man is— my father ! [Falls into chair, l. u. Enter Adrienne, 2mle and staggering, r. d. 2 e. Adrienne I was forced to come to you, since you could not come to me. Valentine [Rising, going toioards her ; stops ; aside, i.. c.) And my father assassinated her motbcr. Adrienne (r, c.) You see how weak 1 am ; will you not sup- port me ? But perbaos vou are right, the daughter of an 56 A CELEBRATED CASE. honorable oentleman can no lono-er be the friend of the daughter of a convict. Valentine Is that what you believe? S >, if you were in ray place, and I were the daughter of a convict — Adrlenne [Goinff to embrace her) I should love vou still. (Valentine .shrinks from her.) I should say to you that you are not responsible for another's crime. That liuman judg- ment often errs, and that perhaps your father is innocent , for I tell you that even now, notwithstanding the overwhelm- ing declaration of your father, the Count de Mornay, my heart still cries to me that m,y father is innocent. (Crosses r. h., corner. Valentine (c.) And it tells you the truth! Your father is innocent ! Adrienne ( Kushing up to her) Heaven bless you for that ! Valentine {Tearing aioay from her) Don't touch me. Adrienne What, again ? Valentine No, no ; 'tis not that. If your father were here, I should fall at his feet, as I do at yours. [Kneeling to her, l. c.) I would tell him his innocence would be niade to appear — that he would be restored to his dauohter Adrienne His daughter, who convicted him. [Falling into chair, R. c. Valentine [Rising) You were but an infant. Tell me, if the terrible accusation brought against John Renaud twelre years ago had been brought later — if in full possession of your reason you had believed him guilty — would you have then denounced him ? Adrienne I ? Valentine Would you have denounced him ? Adrienne Never — never ! [Rises Valentine Not if you were satisfied of his guilt ? Adrienne The child has no right to kill the father. The shame might kill me; but denounce my father — never! Valentine [ Clasping her hands over her brow; going up stagCy then suddenly turning, and coming down c. to Adrienne) If another man had been condemned in his place — an innocent man. and like your father was dragging a convict's chain, A CELEBRATED CASE. 6*. bearing the opprobrium of the galleys for a crime your own father had committed — what would you do ? What ? What ? Adrienne I can't reason that way, I don't know ; I don't know ! Valentine [Solemnli/) Heaven would inspire you — (a^side :) as it will me. Adrienne But why do you ask me such questions ? Enter Lazare, c, down l. h. Lazare What! together? Vahntine [Aside) He ! [Aloud :) Do not be astonished to find Adrienne with me. Her presence can in no wise taint the nobility {bitterly) of our name. Lazare ( Coldly) Indeed ! Valentine She and I are now equally convinced of her father's innocence. Lazare ( Coldly) The time of preseitation is at hand 1 came to see if you were ready. Adrienne Forgive me, Valentine, if I caused you to dis- obey your father. [She starts to go towards r., turns and bows. Lazare re- mains impassive. Valentine Father, Mile. Renaud salutes you. (Lazare slowly raises his hat, Valentine looklny hhn in the eyes ; Adrienne stops at door. Adrienne (To Valentine) I prefer you should remain; Julie will assist me. [Music, Exit, r. 2 e. Lazare I requested you to have no intercourse with that young girl. Valentine You did not understand what I said. Lazare Regarding Renaud's innocence ? Wha> proof of it has his daughter now brought you 1 Valentine She ? none. 68 A CELEBRATED CASE. Lazare [Ironically) The renewed conviction comes from Heaven. Valentine [Firmly) From Heaven ? Lazare A truce with all this childishness! Are you ready to attend the presentation? Valentine I shall not attend it Lazare What ? Valentine No ! Lazare [Sternly) I say yon shall go. I'm your father. Valentine Because of that I humbly request of you to give up your claims here. Lazare Give up — ray claims ? Valentine And quit France at once. Lazare Quit France — surrender my claims to our inherit- ance? But why — why? Valentine Because none of these things are yours. Lazare [In risiny anger) Not mine ? Valentine (r. h.) None of them. These jewels — they burn my eyes. This necklace seemed to burn into my very bosom [Holds it under his eyes) This one. Lazare (l. h.) Why, it is the very necklace your mother wore on our wedding-day. Valentine Enough, enough ! We must leave here, I repeat ; go far, far away from France — and then clear the innocent, now unjustly suffering. Lazare What, do you mean to — accuse — to — me — your father ? Valentine My heart revolts at it, but my conscience commands it. We must leave France. Lazare Never ! [Crosses to r.) Valentine I will follow you in your exile — be your com- panion — your servant, if need be. When out of personal danger, ^ ou will make known the truth ; safe from the jus- tice of Pten, we will together endeavor to woo the mercy of Heaven. Lazare You must fancy you tiave some convincing proo£ ^alen *ine I have. A CET.EHUATRI) CASE. 59 La zco'C Q'lWy child! What is this proof? Let me have that pretended proof. Valentine I will not. Lazare I must have it. Valentine To destroy it — never ! Lazare [Threateninrj her) Til make you — do you hear me ? Give it or — Valentine Or you'll murder me, as you did Madeline. Do it, for I shall not obey you. Lazare (Catching her arm) We'll see. Valentine [Screains) Ah ! (Lazare pushes her violently off. c. d. opens. L'nterDvKE and Duchess ; both halt at door astonished. Duke We came to announce to von the arrival of the Duke de Choiseuil. Lazare You find me, sir, in a state of extreme agitation. I do not know if I really can — Duchess [Seeing Valentine) Good Heavens ! my child ! Valentine ! What is the matter ? Speak — tell me ! Valentine {Breathless) Would you have me speak? W^ould you have me tell ? Duke Go on, Lazare Go on — my child — speak ! Valentine Well, then — (Lazare ff inches.) [Aside:) She said, "I might have died, but 1 would not denounce my father." D7ike (Energetically) Count, what ails your daughter? Lazare The excessive emotions evoked by the events of the last forty- eight hours have resulted in an attack of de- lirium ; for the last five minutes my daughter has been mad ! \Quick curtain, Duke. ) Duchess. y Mad ! Valentine. (Falling on chair.) ) CURTAIN. 60 A CELEBBATED CASE. ACT IV. A salon in the Hotel d'^jhtheterre. Doors, c. and r. 3 k. Large ivlndoic, L. 3 E, Fireplace, R. 2 E. At the rise of the curtain, the Duchkss, the Chanoinesse, and O'RouRKE are discovered. Th' Ladies are seated, c, while O'RouRKE is looking out of the door, r. 3 e.) Chan. Well? O^Rourke She's a sLaypin' like a woodguest in her nest when her eggs are stolin. She's a-talkin' in her slayp. She kayps on mutterin', *' Yis, yis, father, I'm a comin', I'm a comin'." Duchess She thinks of nothing but her father. The doctor thought it doubtful, last night, that she would survive the crisis. Chan. Why, when I left here she seemed so strong and looked so beautiful. Duchess (Sighing) 'Tis since you left us that misery came, for I have still more to tell you. Chan. More ? Duchess In despair at the sufferings of her friend, from whose side her father's inflexible will is determined to keep her, Valentine was, as the Count de Mornay says, attacked with delirium — madness. Chan. Valentine mad ! She, so clear of mind, so robust of reason ! I may say — I — I {In reverie. O'Rourke If I might suggest an owld soger's opinion on the subject — Duchess Go on, O'Rourke. CRourke Well, your Grace, I think the Count was in a moighty hayt of a hurry to declare the young lady out of her moind. Duchess (Rej^rovingly) O'Rourke ! Chan. Let him talk. Why do you think so, O'Rourke ? CRourke She was all right enough a few minutes afore she had a confabulayshun with himself, and if Miss Valentine is out of her moind, it was that coufabulay- A CELEBRATED CASE. 61 shun did it. And I shouldn't wondher if it was about poor Miss Aydrian, Enter Duke, c. Chan. Shrewdly sus})ected, my man. Tliere is a very strong — I will see Valentine. Duke [Unterinff^ c.) You will have to be pretty quiek about it then, for her father is going to take her away to Versailles, as he has important business there. Chan. The Count de Mornay must be ignorant of my presence here. He knows the years of care and tender- ness I have lavished on his daughter, and he cannot fail to see me before he goes. I may then change his resolution. Adrienne [In room) Father ! father ! Duchess Hush ! CRourke [Going to door^ k. 3 E.) Shure she's just \vaykin' from a dhraym. (Chanoinesse and Duchess rise and step toward, the door, R. Adrienne ajjpears at door. Adrienne Oh ! it is you, Madame ! Chan Yes, dear ; I beard you were suffering, [stretches .mt her arms,) and here I am. Adrienne You so noble, so respected, you hold out your arms to me ! You don't know, then, that I am the daughter of a — Chan [Interrupting her] I know you to be the daughter whose heart and mind I helped a good mother [pointing to Duchess] to form ; that alternately for ten years we have been your mother; that of all my family of fifty, you are ray best beloved. [^Opens her arms again. Adrienne throws herself into them.] Adrienne You are all so good, so good — oh, it breaks my heart to leave you ! Duchess But that you shall never do. Adrienne And he ? Must he be left ? 62 A CELEBRATED CASE. DnJce I think — I know I can obtain his pardon from the crown, Chan And in some quiet, distant place he can spend the remainder of his days in calm enjoyment of — Adrienne This would be mercy to the guilty; but my father is not guilty — my father is innocent. Duchess [DcsjxiiriH[/I>/\ Adrienne ! Adrienne And after you had obtained this pardon he would be alone in the world ; I should never see him more — as I am unable now to drag myself to his feet. Duke Nay, nay, Adrienne, yon are wrong; you will see him soon. Adrienne Soon to see him ? Where ? When ? How can I — Dufce You so cried and called for him during your fever that I resolved to send for him. I sent the order by O'Rourke. Adrienne [To O'Rourke] Then you saw him — heard him — spoke to him ? O^Rourke The divil an eye would they let me clap on him. The surly kaper said he was bound to obey his Grace's orders, but not mine, and wid that the dirty spal- peen left me on the wrong side of the dour. Adrienne [Turns /oChanoinesse] If I can only see him once more, talk to him myself — Duke (Aside to O'Rourke). Go, and watch his coming. 0''Rourke And delighted I am to do that same. [As he sa7js this O'Rourke ffoes up stage and meets Raoul, wlio is coining doivn stage. Raoul [Stopping O'Rourke] Well, well ? 0''Rourke Ah, sir, but the poor child is as wayk as ivir. (Raoul comes down stage ^' c, O'Rourke exits, c. Chan (Seeing Raoul) I was astonished at not finding Fou here. Haoul Duty called me away. Now I am free, and return to you and Adrienne — and this time forever. Adrienne I understand vou, Raoul, but cannot accept the A CELEBRATED CASE. G3 sacrifice. My shame shall never stain your noble name — blight your glorious future. Raoul Listen, Adrienne — listen all, fori wish to he heard by all. With you, Adrienne, are all my hopes, all my joy. Without you, fortune, title, glory, have for me no value. You say that between these and you there is au obstacle the world cannot overlook. Bo it s-o. 1 will thus sweep awiiy the difficulty. (7h Cmanoinesse :) Madame, take back the fortune you gave me to gild a noble name; and [to Duke) you, your Grace, take the sword that 1 cannot wiar nor use till the task I have set myself is accou)plished. Your burden, Adrienne, is too heavy for you to bear alone — hereafter we'll share it. Adrietine Raoul ! Raoul You believe in your father's innocence. So do L Give me your baud ; hold up your head ; call back your courage — for together we'll yet make that innocence mani- fest to the world. Ch Duke Yes. But the testimony of your child ? Jolin ( 2h Adrienne) You see — you see I was brave and loyal, your mother chaste and virtuous, and there binding us to gether were you, an angel fresh from heaven. Now why — why should I kill your mother? Is it likely — Adrienne Why, father, I never doubted your innocence. My heart declared it the day you stated it. Duke John, listen to me a moment. It was not merely to see your daughter pleased I sent for you. I also wanted to ask you a very serious question. John What question, Col — General ? Duke During your trial, you kept repeating that if a cer- tain man had not been killed he could have made your in- nocence apparent. Duke [Looking John in the face) What would you now say, if I told you that the Count de Moniay is still alive? John [Beside Idmself] lie is alive — alive ! [Stops.] You are not saying this merely to try me ? He is alive ? Duchess We all know and have seen him here. John [Wild with jot/] Here- -here ! He is here! [Cover - ing Adrienne with kisses] We're saved ! saved ! saved 1 O^Hourke [To Duke] D'ye hear that, your Grace ? In that the cry of a guilty man ? Duke Request the Count de Mornay to please step here. O^Hourke There's no nayd of me goin', for I saw the car- riage return, and" ere he comes himself to bid you farewell. Adrienne [Aside] Alas, my poor father ! John Oh, why was I not told before of this happiness ! Duke Wait ; you shall see and hear. Stand aside awhile. John But, your Grace — Duke Wait a little — wait there. [Pointing to wi7idoiv, l. 3 e. O^Hourke [Announcing] The Count de Mornay. Lazare [Coming forward] I did not wish to leave your Grace without expressing my thanks for the tenderness lav- ished on my daughter, and the hospitalitv extended to us both, Duke Before you leave us, Count, I would like to summon before you a man — a very miserable man — of whom you have already beard here. 66 A CELEBRATED CASE. Lazarc Wliat for? Duke John Renaud ! [Lazare tal-en alack, starts. O^Rourke \^Watchin[/ him\ Bey(>rra, he shivered like a lamper-ayl from head to tail ! Lazare \^Cool as a cucumber^ John Renaud — Ah, I see — I recollect the i.an)e — and that dress tells the stojy. This is the soldier condemned for murder. John Unjustly condemned, Count ; and one word from your mouth will prove that and restore me to life, to liberty and honor. Lazare \_Coldly, haughtily] A word from me? How, pray ? John By recalling the past and stating it truly. Lazare What past? Oh, I see! that adventure of which Mile. Adrienne — Adrienne His daughter, sir. Lazare \^£owin(/ a little] — His daughter spoke. John The adventure of two men the night before Fon- tenoy — one was wounded; the other, a soldier, came to his re- lief, and received a trust. The soldier was myself, the wound- ed man was — [looks,hesitates/ Lazare neverjlinches an instant] — the wounded man was — his face was covered with blood, the darkness was gathering; I should not be able to recog- nize him, but he was the Count de Mornay. Lazare \^Coldly]\ 2km the Count de Mornay. What you have stated thus far is perfectly trne. John [With joy] Do you hear — eh ? Do you hear ? Well, you confided to me your jewels, your papers, your — Lazare Better stop there, niy man. John How ? Lazare You are now about to commence the story of that poor murdered woman — John Yes — of my wife. Lazare T know that mj'^ name was called up by the defence. John By me, Count, by me, whom the disappearance of your jewels, gold, and papers would have — Lazare [Withem2)hasis\ My jewels, my papers, never did disappear — they are even now here in my possession John [Overwhelmed] Here, in your hands? Lazare Certainly, all of them — all. A ?;elkbratkd CASiT. 67 John [^Breatkhs!^^ Then the raan who stole t-hem restored tliein to your family. hazard Never. John [ WUh conviction^ Then he restored them to you. Laza re [Violent/;/] No, I tell you, never. Joht. [Energetically] Then I tell you that if you have them, and no one ever restored them to you, you — \risin(j higher and higher] — yon tore them from the hands of my dying wife ! Lazare How, wretch ? Buke John, be still ! John How can 1 be still ? Can you not understand — do vou not see — that there, right before me, stands the man that murdered ray wife — my Madeline. He who is kiHing my child here — he who for twelve years bas intiicted on me the tortures of the damned ! How can I be still ? Look, look ! this shameful uniform, 'tis he should wear it ; this chain, 'tis he should drag it! I know — I know he's put me out of the pale of the law. But if I can't have law let me have justice ; if not justice, then let me have revenge ! (Duke and Rourke hold John back. Adrienne Fatter ! Drike What clue — what proof can he offer? Enter Valentine, Chanoinesse and Raoul. Adrienne I see — T see 'tis all over ! Valentine Not yet. Lazare [Angrily to Valentine.) Wliat do-you want ? what brings you here? Valentine I come to ask you to quit France, as I asked you before. Lazare Silence ! I forbid you to speak. T command you to follow me — on the instant ! [Goes to seize her by the wrist. Chanoinesse steps in between them. Chan ( With quiet dignity) By what right do you com* mand this child ? and by what right do you, in my pres- ence, dare to speak to her in such a tone 1 Lazare I am her father, the Count de Mornay. Chan The Count de Mornay ! Look me in the face. Do you know me — did you ever meet me before ? 68 A CKLEBRATED CASE. Lazare Never, tbat T can remember. Chan [Ironically) Do you remember to what college the girlhood of your child was confided ? Lazare The Culleye of Ilyeres, certainly — Chan She was sent there by you? Lazare The day I left France. 6han And the man who delivered her to the directress was — a servant ? Lazare A devoted servant of the family. Chan Can you repeat what that man said when he sep- arated from your daughter. Lazare [Insolently.) Pshasv ! How should I ? Chan [Quietly.) I can. " It is perhaps for ever," he said, " that I am forced to leave you, poor child, and with you re- mains half of my life — half of my heart." His eyes over- flowed with tears. The directress, astonished at his emotion, was about to speak, when he said to her : " I can trust you, lady. I am the Count de Mornay — a proscribed, flying man — into your hands I confide my daughter ; and Heaven deal with you as vou deal with my child." All His child ? Chan. Yes, it was I who received Valentine de Mornay from the hands of her real father. Lazare [Friyhtened) You ? Chan. And I tell you you are an impostor, sir, and have stated what is false. John [Quickly) Ah, at last. Lazare [Menacinyly) Madame Chan. [Quietly) You have just stated what I know to be false — you are not her father. John [ With force) And I tell you you are not the Count de ]Mornay. CRourJce Cornered 1 I'll be ready for him on the shpring. [Exit O'ROURKE V. D. Lazare But I hold in my hands all the possible attesta- tions of my identity. Who can furnish proof to the con- trary ? Valentine You can. You brought the proof with you. John What? La^art I? A CELEBRATED CASE. 69 Valentine [Producing necklace) You brought the proof here — this necklace, which you stole from the bleedinw corpse of Madeline. John [Lookinij at necklace) I know it ! I know it ! [Hands it to Duchess.) See, see, Madame ! John Look, your Grace, in the medallion — your name ! Duchesis True. John And fee, Duke, here the arms of the house d'Aubo terre. [Re-enter O'Rourke, c. d. Duke It is true, John As true as that there stj>nds the assassin of Made- line. Duke Raoul, arrest that man ! Lazare [Aside) I'm lost ! There is nothing left for me but a dash. [Hushes up to c. D., dashes them open^ and finds a file of Soldiers across door. O^Rourke Yes, my lord Count, your escort is ready. Dvke [To John) John Renaud, I beg your hand in token of forgiveness for our general error. John Ah, General, I have now the right to embrace my daughter, and the sufferings of the past are forgot- ten I CURTAIN. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. W 07 1988 SEP 8 19R8 Form L9-25»n-3,'62(C7165s4)444 LOd Ai^«ij«iii^:i