I»win A Prologue and Five Acts. -BY AYLYS lE^IOIEHIlvlOlsriD. ^JB5l^ 1875. A Prologue and Five Acts. -BY- 5 M- Entered, according to Act of Congress in the year 1875, by H. S. Dement. In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. -Axitlior's Prefatory HSTote. In the theory that Napoleon was simply inspired by the belief that he was the child of destiny, there is hardly enough, to my mind, to recon- cile the strange events and many inconsistencies of his remarkable ca- reer. I have therefore assumed that he was possessed of no less an hallucination than, that, as the peculiar child of destiny Ins course was directed, or rather suggested by an actual presiding deity whom he per- sonified as Fate . To her he conceived that he bore something ot the same relation as Achilles to Thetis, though recognising in Fate one pos- sessed of no less power than Jove himself. I prefer the word suggested as it is hardly in keeping with the character of Napoleon that he would have submitted to more than this even from the Immortals. The affection of Napoleon for Josephine is proverbial, and it is hardly necessary forme to affirm that perhaps there is no recorded instance of a higher or tenderer love bejtween man and wife, and yet, love, the strong- est passion ot humanity, in which the soul reaches nearest to the Infinite, was made to yield to what would certainly have been a lower incentive, had he not believed that all heaven and earth stood in waiting for his ac- tion. I have, it will be discovered, antedated and crowded events, and entirely ignored many of the most remarkable events and characters connected with Napoleon's career. To the Directors, Barras, Gohier and Moulins, I have attributed all the conspiracies that appear in the play. Eugene de Beauharnais, whose age is advanced, did not return with Junot and Jo- seph Bonaparte when the standards and Bulletin were sent to the Direc- tory as appears in the play but remained with Bonaparte. These, and other obvious deviations from historical accuracy will, it is trusted, not diminish the pleasure the author hopes the reader will find in this produc- tion. In the main it is true to history. The author claims that the tragic ending of act V is not far from the actual history of the death of The Empress Josephine, for the divorce was certainly the death knell of her happiness and the cloud that first dimmed and finally obscured the star of Napoleon. To secure as early publication as circumstances required it was found necessary to omit the foot notes and appendix, in which due credit is giv- en where the author feels indebted. AVLYS RICHMOND. Dramatis Persons. NAPOLEON BONAPARTE— the General of France, afterwards EMPERIOR NAPOLEON I. EUGENE deBEAUHARNAIS. JOSEPH BONAPARTE. LUCIEN BONAPARTE. COMPTE deB ARRAS. CARNOT. GOHIER. MOULIN S. LAREVEILLIERE LEPEA.UX. LETOURNEUR. REWBELL. RAGIDEAU. MARQUIS MANFREDIXI. AUGEREAU. ORIANI. LE GROS. POPE PIUS VII. JOSEPH MARIE ROSA deTACHER de laPAGERIE, afterwards VISCOUNTESS de BEAUHARNAIS, afterwards EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. MARY, the sister of Josephine. PRINCESS AUGUSTA. HORTENSE de'BE AUHARN AIS. EUPHEMIA, a Sibyl. Three members of the Council of the Five Hundred. 1st Citizen, 2nd Citizen. 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Negroes— a Negress— 1st, 2nd and 3rd Secretaries— Car- bon— St. Rejeant— Limoelan— a little girl— Prelates -Members of Bona- parte Family— Lady attendants— Citizens— Soldiers— Courtiers — Pages — Servants. PROLOGUE. Is/LJL&mZTIGLTTEl. A magnificent bower looking out upon the sea. Inland, the background at first gently undulating, rises to majestic mountains. Looking through the bower the placid surface of the water is discovered sparkling in the sunlight, while at the entrance is suspended a silken hammock, beautifully ornamented with flowers. Upon the opening of the scene, is discovered a party of negroes in con- versation. ENTER EUPHEMIA. She advances to the centre of the stage, stares wildly around, and then looks up towards the clouds. Euphemia. But yesterday a heavy sky ! The clouds hung dark and ominous o'erhead, To-day how beautiful ! And to-morrow! Ah! Ah! 10. Firist Negro (approaching.) What have the stars to say for me ? Euphemia. The stars are bid from mortal eyes to-day. Too bright a sun shuts out the great beyond No 1 ess than heavy clouds. First Negro. But cannot you see Beyond clouds or sun ? Euphemia. Ah ! who can see The great futurity ? First Negro. Then 1 will go. Euphemia. Stay ! let me look into your hand. A happy life awaits you, live in hope. Only a few dark days, and then, First Negro. What then ? Euphemia. Wait patiently and you shall see. Second negro advances and" puts out his hand. Euphemia, Black as your heart ! Begone I He steals away. All. Aha! Aha! Third negro advances. Euphemia. Mingling together in unwholesome veins, Bad blood of two becomes worse blood of one. A life all chequered with the bad and worse ! A fate alternately relieved by joy And pain. A Young Negress approaches, Euphemia takes her hand, gazes into it. Then looks into her eyes. Then without speaking leads her to the first negro, and, putting her hand in his: Euphemia. Your fates are one ! Whereupon all the negresses rush to have their fortunes told, and old Euphemia throws up both hands, and, catching sight of the approaching Josephine, {Exeunt.'] ENTER JOSEPHINE. Attired in a robe of pure white, her wonderful wealth of hair falls grace- fully about her shoulders. Josephine Pair sylvan bower! O can there be beside thee So lovely a spot in all the realms of earth? What magic pow'r could give such beauty birth? Such forms and colors exquisite, provide thee? Thou dreamy scene of happy childhood's vision; Shrine of delights supreme! Sublime Elysium! Beneath my feet thy richest carpets spread, Of green and gold, with bright hued flowers blending, And, as each petal yields its silvery tips Of morning dew, and opes its tiny lips To drink the sunlight, sweetest fragrance sending On every breath that rises from its bed, Celestial then, the bird songs overhead, With Aeol's softened cadences attending! The heaven kissing mountains rise behind thee, O'er whose grand heights the sun first peeps to find thee, Then rushes down in warm embrace to bind thee, Divinely tinting ere he will resign tliee. On either side, the enchanted woodland lies, Old fabled labyrinthine mysteries, Home of bright fays and goblin histories. Above, what grotesque shapes of beauty race Through the etherial azure depths of heaven! And, as the orb of day sinks in the west. Kissing the silv'ry wavelets sparkling crest, What crystal splendor to the sea is given! What tints sublime! What matchless colors grace Those Glory Pictures of mysterious space; Bright ruby forms bathing in clouds of pearl, Resting so gracefully in Golden World! How nature lavishly her gifts bestows! But list! Who comes to break upon my revery ? RE-ENTER EUPHEMIA. Who upon coming into the presence of Josephine, catches a view of her countenance, at first seems to writhe in violent contortions, then her face assumes an expression of wonder and astonishment. Taking her by the hand she gazes into its palm, then lifts her large eyes with a search- ing expression to the face of Josephine who in the meantime is laughing heartily. Josephine. What is so wonderful, Grim prophetness? Euphemia. Oh wonderful indeed ! Most wonderful! Josephine. Bad fortune is't, or good ? Euphemia. Ah who can tell what's good or bad for us? Your hand bodes evil, but your face As plainly speaks ol happiness! Yes, great And lofty happiness ! Josephine. How cautious ! 'Tis best when one seeks not to be entrapped, Yet some great story wonderful would tell, Having not even semblance of the truth. But, proceed grave oracle ! Euphemia. I dare not Speak to you more plainly! Oh pardon me! Let me leave you! Josephine Stay! I command you speak! Since you my curiosity would whet, You shall tell on, if good or bad it be! You go not from my presence till I hear This strange hallucination through and through. Euphemia. Well, since you order it, I must obey— 1 must obey I Your countenance does tell That destiny has sealed for you a fate Which, struggle though you may, cannot be changed! Soon you will wed. And ah I alas ! how soon Again husbandless ! And then ! Josephine. Then ! What then I Euphemia. You shall be Queen of France ! Yes more than queen ! And then, glorious life! Happiest days Shall bless yon! A mighty Emperor shall share With you his crown; whose power will o'ertop The highest pinnacle that the great throne Of France has ever reached unto! [looks in hand] But ah! Alas! misfortune then will come, And you more swiftly will be hurled down From your proud eminence than you arose. But loved more fondly in the day of death Than ever yet before, you will be mourned By all the world ! [rushes away.} Josephine. [Laughing] Good bye! Poor old insane Euphemia! Next time more pliant disposition seek, One who kneels at superstition's shrine , If thou wouldst win a name for prophecy, [laughing] Queen of France! Queen of France! The Queen of France! [Goes to hammock and reclines in it]. [Musing.] "Fate— Queen of France — Yes more than Queen 1 And then glorious life ! Happiest days Shall bless you! A mighty Emperor shall share With you his crown! whose power will o'ertop The highest pinnacle that the great throne Of France has ever reached unto! But ah! Alas!" [Agitated.] No! I'll not believe it! Why do I listen to my silly tongue, Allowing it to prattle o'er the words Of mad Euphemia's prophecy? ENTER MARY, bearing Josephine's Guitar. I am too happy seeing you my Love! My darling sister! But you come too late To witness what to me was ludicrous Beyond expression. Mary. Sister may I know What so provokes your mirthfulness? Josephine. Oh yes, A prophecy of old Euphemia. Tis a strange story and I will tell you, But not now. Take my guitar, darling, and Sing to me. [Mary sings] THE ^FIPJLIR/ITIOIISr. Josephine awakes, comes down from hammock. Josephine. Where ! Where am I ? My hammock? Martinique? This is not France! Oh that dream ! That dream I That dream ! ENTER MARY. Mary. My Sister! Josephine! Josephine! Josephine. Oh, Mary I've endured an hundred deaths, And untold happiness in the same dream. Felt the bitterest pangs of suffering, And tasted joys more sweet than tongue can tell. Mary. Tell me, tell me darling Josephine, What has so cruelly overtaken you. Your sister fain would know and help to bear This sorrow. Tell me! Tell me Love! Dear Josephine! impart to me your dream And let me suffer with you, Josephine. Ah ! you know That cheerfully I would to you convey My every thought of happiness or woe: Thafrl have ever, ever shared with you My confidence, my dearest secret thought, After singing, Mary goes to the hammock and finds Jo- sephine (dummy ) asleep, her face turned toward the sea. She retires, without disturbing her, into the wood. And, as sweet music is heard in the distance, the Apparition is discovered through the bower as if rising out ot the sea: — . 1st. "Wedding ceremonial of Josephine and Alexander de Beau- harnais. 2nd. Josephine and Beauharnais with Eugene and Hortense. 3rd. Beauharnais under the guillotine. 4th. "Wedding of Josephine and Bonaparte. 5th. Coronation Scene. 6th. Parting of Josephine and Bonaparte. That from my soul I love you as I would Find love in heaven. But do you forget That from my youth I never could recall The simplest action of the brain in sleep? In dim outline my dreams somtimes return, But when that, I would grasp or give them shape They \ anish from before me, and 1 see Only th'incorporeal air — Oh it seems an age since last I saw you, And as I waked it was as if I passed From out another world, speeding o'er land And sea, as winged upon the winds, I sought Our earth, my home, our blessed Martinique. A wizard told me once That sometime I should see and understand My dreams. But did not say if in this lite Or in the next. Oh God ! delay that time If come it must, till I have passed this soul To thee! Or give to me more strength than now I have to bear up under suffering! Mary. Oh my sister! Josephene. Mary speak not of this ! 'Tis not well to lend too much our sorrows. Help me to overcome this soul sickness, And let us trust to Him who doeth well All things. Exeunt. .A STORM. A Storm is heard approaching in the distance. It grows nearer and nearer, then clouds pass over the sea, as seen through the bower, followed by lightening and deep rolling thunder. CURTAIN FALLS. ACT I. Seventeen Tears are supposed to have elapsed. PARIS. SCENE FIRST. PALACE HEADQUAETERS OF GEN.-IN-OHIEF, BONAPARTE NAPOLEON BONAPARTE IS DISCOVERED ATTENDED BY A SOLDIER WHO WITHDRAWS. Bonaparte. Tis said that waen these eyes first saw the light, They gazed upon a piece of tapestry, Whereon were painted Iliad's tragic scenes, And that my father, on the bed of death Recurring to this circumstance of birth, Made honorable mention ot my name, And said, "Napoleon's sword shall one day rule And triumph o'er all Europe's haughty pride !" How has this thought coursed ever through my brain ! Dear childhood! Glorious youth! What memories Linger now with you ! What wondrous visions Hover over you, of future greatness And immortal fame ! How adown the years The one great thought of power reigns supreme ! — How do the boundless resources of soul, Armed with this thought, cry onward! Ever on! Why should I doubt its inspiration's source, When in my dreams it rings out as a voice Forth from the lips of the great goddess Fate? — Odd years do intervene Between her visits on my natal hour, Yet each recuring year adds one more star Unto the crown She holds above my head. — Seven and three, twice three, and seven, and three, — The divination of a unity ! ! Fll doubt no more! dacta Est Alea! Thou supreme goddess! Fate, my mother, hail! Lo! let the firm alliance now be sealed! Lead on! Lead on! About it now good brain I Thou never resting ! We are dauntless now 1 Conceive and She shall help to execute The Indomitable will! [A noise ot quarrelling and strife without.] {Enter a soldier of the guard.) Soldier. General, a youth in hot impatience Waits without, demanding quick admission. Bonaparte. Demanding? Well, his name! Soldier. Eugene de'Beauharnais. Bonaparte. Admit him ! Stay ! Let him be attended ENTEB EUGENE, attendedby Bonaparte. What brings you here ? Your business must be urgent since you knock So loudly for admission. Eugene. Urgent indeed, thou vicegerent of death! For at the hands of this base government We have received such wrongs, as loudly call For honest reparation or revenge! And at the bar of God will louder call, For, pay as best you can, you cannot pay The price, that He puts on a single soul! My mother claims a husband at your hands. She has a son and daughter who both claim A father, murdered by your damned decree! Oh hell! Ope wide your jaws and swallow up The hideous monsters who now prey on France! Bonaparte. Ah/ Dare you to say That the Republic murdered your father? Eugene. Ay! more, I dare! For what now can I lose? Thousands, of the noblest blood That e'er gave strength to France, were by this same Republic which you praise, untimely sent To moulder in their graves ! The very earth Grew sick, being so forced to over-feed On human carcases ! But come I not To plead for France, or for my father who Now rests, thank God, beyond your wicked power. I claim my father's sword which recently Four soldiers forced away. For it was mine, And on it I have sworn to be like him Who nobly bore it in his country's cause. My mother bade me take that oath And I will keep it sacred while I live! Bonaparte. But what have you to plead* Why the great mandates of your country should, In your case more than others, be ignored ?, Eugene. That which should be a nation's gratitude, To one who ever valiently did fight, On many bloody, hard contested fields, In her defense, and who at last was slain, To appease the wrath of her most deadly And inveterate enemies! - That just right of protection which belongs To those who are the widows, daughters, sons, Of the defenders of their country's cause! Why, Sir, the spirit of true chivalry Robs not the dead, nor strikes afallenfoe, But, to his widow and his orphans, gives As strong an arm as to his own dear rights, Why gave you up my father's property, And held it not as lawful confiscate, If that he was a traitor, worthy death? And now you take his sword? What greater right to it than to his lands, The which already are surrendered to My mother, and my father's lawful heirs? What value is to you this sword? On whom would you presume to buckle it? 'Twill weigh him down! Oh it will weigh him down! Not in the confines of the Republic Could be found one who would be worthy oft.! On him who sought to wield it 'twould return, Like the unmanageable boomerang, llather than serve the purposes of those Who murdered its true master ! Bonaparte. But should I give to you your father's sword, Which you now come to gain, will you consent To take an oath that you will use And wear it only in your country's cause ? Eugene. Why should I take a double oath? If one were virtuless, what greater power Would bind me in the second? Said I not, That on my father's sword, before high heaven, I promised to my mother I would be Like him? And who will dare to say that he, My noble father, was a traitor? Who Will show a brighter purer record, of A life so wholly given to defend His country ? This same France that wickedly Has murdered him ! Or think you that an oath Would record find in heaven, given to you, And one before my mother be refused? Bonaparte. Your mother certainly must be A very virtuous good old lady. Eugene. My mother is both virtuous and good ! Too good and pure that, from her eyes, Heartless and wicked men should cause to flow Such very floods of tears! Was't not enough That they should murder my poor father? But now they make to bleed afresh the wounds, By robbing us ot that which was his pride, Our only sure defense ! Bonaparte. Have you no fear? That with such bold . ehemence you upbraid The rulers of great France ? Eugene. General, I had just returned From St. Germain; And wnen I saw A vacant place upon the wad where once Did hang my father's sword— and too was told How in base mockery and sacrilege It had thence been ta'eu — And when my mother's weeping eyes, blanch'd cheeks And trembling iorm confronted me, I rushed Out in the street and swore I'd have that sword Or die in fighting for't? These arms are weak, Sir, very weak, Save in my mother's cause, and then I feel Strong as Hercules! Knowing least of fear! Bonaparte. Come to my arms, thou noble! noble youth! Happy mother, what else so ere betide ! "Whom gracious heaven has blessed with such a son! Happy the land that claims thee for her own! Oh! thou shouldst have thy father's sword Though all the powers of hell environed it ! ! Bring forth Beauharnais' sword {Exit soldier who returns bearing the sword.) There, I will buckle it upon- thy thigh ! Now, go and bless thy mother with the sight Of a most noble and most worthy son! But stay ! one moment, tell thy mother That 'twas not Bonaparte that murdered him, "Whose name she bears, but Bonaparte now craves A boon, an audience with the mother who Could bless the earth with such a son as thou. Eugene, (kissing sword) Oh. General! 'tis well to lose Else should we not know how sweet it is to And. [exit] Bonnparte. Ah! 'Tis too true! Too true the story of this noble youth! France lias passed through that unnatural fire Which well nigh has consumed her gold, and left But miserable dross! She had drained the intoxicating cup Of liberty, and it had made her mad! But the royal blood of her own children, Of which she drank so freely, at last cooled Her burning mania. Oli, Fate! Tliou goddess of my soul! Lead on thy son until he reach that height VVhere-unto he would climb ! RE-ENTER SOLD1EK. Bonaparte. This to the Directory ! Miscarry at your peril! [exit soldier.] Carnot is true as steel I I like not Barras, nor will I trust Uim. That man whose greatest satisfaction is Severity and persecution To his enemies, can have no friend so dear But who if not subservient to him In his basest ends, he'll sacrifice. Though he your shoe may buckle day by day, 'Tis only that you wear it out for him. But make one step aside and you are lost, If he can ruin you. Barras befriends me Since I did help him on to his renown, But let my service cease, farewell Barras ! Carnot is noble, and to him I go For my commission into Italy. Give me sweet fame ! Sweet fame ! oh Italy I And I will soon erase remembrance sad Of the thirteenth Vendemiaire. ENTER ASOLDIEK. Soldier. The Viscountess de Beaufaarnais Requests an audience. Bonaparte. Admit her! ENTER JOSEPHINE. Josephine. General Bonaparte, I come to pay that tribute which belongs To him who saw more touching eloquence In youthful words and face, than soldiers saw In woman's tears. And in the name of him Who once so honorably bore the sword Which you have generously returned to us, His widow and his orphans, I thank yo*u! And if the vehemence and fire of youth Suggested bitter wr rds in our Eugene, Consider but his cue for passion, and From his mother's heart accept regret, For much I fear was spoke in anger. Bonaparte. Viscountess deBeauharnais. Too well I know the justice of the cause For which he spoke to censure him. Rather Would I praise his noble heroism. Through wreck of empire and the clouds of war How few are left of all the pride of France! Josephihe. Such generous pardon 1 did scarce expect. For truth, undisciplined To gentle Words, urged on by outraged justice And impetuous youth, though it be truth, May give offense, stepping beyond the bounds Of that true courtesy which indeed belongs Even to passion. I can hardly hope But that Eugene spoke hastily, and owes A just apology, the which would I Most cheerfully and humbly pay for him. Bonaparte. Too proud am I for France, In that she should have left a son, Who dares plead eloquently for the right Against a fearful odds, nor counting costs. A.poI ogles from Eugene! Rather say From France that has so basely dealt with those Who most deserve her favors. Josephine But did he not accuse you General, As one being now in power? Bonaparte. '-The military Is but the automaton of nations, Subject to a higher power. Controlled And set to work at pleasure. The soldier only knows obedience Though it should lead him to the cannon's mouth." Eugene well knew this and his charges laid With words well seasoned at the proper door; For which most truly do I honor him. And, by your gracious leave and his consent, Would help him to preferments from the which He may have opportunity to show- To France and all the world, nobility And lofty genius. Josephine. Humbly do I thank you! You have to-day won a great victory O'er woman's will. For I did firm resolve That never more in France I would have hope For truth, for honor, or for happiness. O save our country, and in tribute we, Your subjects, will torever, ever bless you! [offers to go] Bonaparte. Stay ! One moment, pardon me ! Madam, give me but leave to be your guest And, though in France you find but little hope, You may find honorable friendship in Her General. Josephine. For such distinguised honor ' I should only be too grateful. [offers to go] Bonaparte. One moment more ! You are unattended, My guard awaits your service. Josephine. For which I thank you! But, General you forget my schooling. The woman who could pass through lioWspiere's reign Hus little of that feeling now called lear. Still less with Bonaparte, Chief General. [exit] Bonaparte. Nay I Nay! It cannot be a dream! For not in brightest realm of dreams was ere Beheld such loveliness! O, if in any corner Of the globe thou canst be found, I'll have thee, Though it cost all France! — All France ! O beggars gift ! Crowns, scepters, power will I add to it, Till all the world shall do thee homage ! Thou shalt ne'er weep, the clouds alone shall weep, On earth a universal happiness Because thou shalt be queen! Lands, rivers and great oceans shall be thine, UJ Each vieing which shall yeild thee choicest gems! From unknown climes, birds shall bring sweetest flowers, \ //-And gentle falling dews distill therefrom Divinest exhalations! rare perfumes! Great ships I'll send, seeking delicious fruits From coast to coast, returning full for thee! Only when thou dost sleep the sun shall shine, For when thou wak'st there'll he no need of sun; Nor, in thy beauty's light, even when thou sleep'st! Ob, insufficiency ! ! Thou shouldst have heaven ! A coronet of stars 1 SCENE II. THE DIREOTORT. UARNOT, BARRAS, LAREVEILLIERE, LEPEAUX, REWBELL, LETOURNEUR. REWBELL PRESIDING. JSewbell. Citizen Directors! Again have we assembled in tiie name And by the vested puwer of the Republic. Let only wisdom's counsels here prevail, That all the land may safety see in us. Yet tenderly we'll nurse our infant state Through all the episodes of growing strength; Happy childhood, ambitious youth, and too That full grown, noble manhood, which but ends In honorable virtuous old age. We are but yet a bold experiment, Which oft before has wrought a sad defeat. Let not our children write upon our tombs, These were the fathers who but vainly sought To give to the republic longer life. But to forego a formal, opening speech, Consuming time which is so precious now, Tis well we fall to work. Citizen Director Carnot, Have you report to make touching the strength And disposition of our armies? We are In waiting for't if so be. Carnot. Citizen President and directors! As last reported, all goes slowly on. Tis well I think that we do quickly make Some changes in our officers, and add New levies to our wasting armies. The very fate of the Republic hangs On instant action. Ere it is too late We must move on. There is one change that I am well convinced Both wisdom and true policy will urge; And, though it were my brother's fall, I'd say The great Republic calls, we must obey. I speak of our command in Italy. And now a brief review of that campaign, I will not trace the detailed history Of that unfruitful, indecisive war "Which for the last four years France has maintained Against the Austrian and Sardinian arms — Too well is known to all of you our loss, Too palpable our national disgrace. Yeai', by year we have barely met the foe, On narrow battle iields, mid deep denies Of towering Alps, and neath the craggy feet OftheLiguran Apennines — met, Eut not vanquished — only exchanged our blows For blows which we received. Till now, An army, weak, and miserably clad, Without provisions wholesome e'en for brutes, Relaxed in discipline, ambitionless. Cursing their country, and no less themselves, For its neglect, their own torpidity, Five and thirty thousand of such men as these And an imbecile for general Are all that now is left to us, of what Was once a noble army of brave men. Now look around you! What have we to meet? England, Austria, Bavaria, Piedmont, Naples, and some minor States of Germany And Italy — All joined to Austria's league. The Key is Italy, Held by the army of Beaulieu, Sixty thousand brave well marshalled men. What follows? Shall we retain as General, Scherer, Because there is no bold apparent crime On which to bring an accusation ? AVhat greater crime can generals commit Than failure ? Wouldst measure calamities ? — Then which is easier withstood, An army treasonably surrendered, Or an army lost through imbecility? No less we need, Directors, Than one who can at once inspire with life And a r.ew courage give our broken troops, With genius to command and lead them on To victory! And have we such a man? Yes! Yes! One whose genius is as plainly stamped As stars are plain in Heaven! Brave as Achilles! Cool, calculating, and yet burning with Intrepid valor in his country's cause! Ready to lead her armies, though it be Across a very continent of foes ! The conquerer of Toulon ! The great defender of the convention! Napoleon Bonaparte! With all due courtesy to others views, I do most firmly advocate a step Deposing General Scherer, and his place Give o'er to Bonaparte. Lepaux. Citizen Directors/ Let us guard well lest those may be deposed Whom circumstances have combined against, And though possessing ample skill at arms, Have made short progress. Barras. Citizen President and worthy Colleagues/ The very force and weight of argument Of worthy citizen Carnot must be To all apparent. France long has been disgraced By sad mismanagement in Italy. ■'Tis well we look to it. Now press on every hand the combined force Of Austria and her firm allies. To right, to left, without, within, around And everywhere, the foes of France are thick ! Like London fog they permeate the whole Expanse of Heaven and earth/ Sleeping or waking we are beset with spies, Our councils filled with foul distempered knaves, Our people by old feuds held separate, ■Sowing germs of discord quick'd i' the sun At every noon to some new faction/ Who knows but by tomorrow's dawn, We shall find safety only in defense Or flight, from some self constituted power Like that of the thirteenth Vendeniiaire? We stand too long fearing lest we oifend / The times demand quick action, let's amend/ The key of Austria's strength is Italy/ The key of our success is Italy/ Then let us strike the foe m Italy / First bring we home tnib Sckerer, long worn out, A rank oti'ense to France and to our arms, Supplant him with our Bonaparte, and give Young "Achilles" anela wherein to work. Then shall proud Austria una her allies feel What 'tis to meet the Ureal .Republic's steel/ Letourmur. oitizen Directors. Do we forget, our hero's but a youth Compared to those whose whose fame is no less great, Who have grown gray in honorable service/ The Corsican in truth deserves great praise : But is not Italy too heavy weight For strength so tender? Why, look you 1 pray, He is scarce twenty-live/ Now if so great importance be attached To what is wrought in Italy, are we, Are we to send a stripling to command Y Oh let us act with that discretion which, The great Directory of France should have/ Nor let our admiration for one deed,, Though meetest for reward, betray Us into rashness/ Garnot. Aye/ Almost as young, good Letourneur, As Alexander! Scipio! or Conde! Why, worthy Sir, our Bonaparte has seen A quarter of a century ! Mewbell. Pres. Citizen, Directors; Our subject is too weighty To find disposal in so short a time. I pray you now give o'er debate until We next convene. Meantime reflect, as well Becomes the step we are about to take. Exuent all but Barrets*. Barras Yes, yes, the best place for "young Achilles" Is Italy . Fray God he'll not return ! I help him to preferments, and the score But quits if I do help to pull him down. We'll send him where he may become A willing sacrifice for his country- Yes, yes, he shall be cooped in Italy. I'll see that he has few fresh levies— For 'tis not politic to force a draft On discontented brawling multitudes, Much less in a new government. The people would revolt en masse, and give More trouble than the foreign foe. Well put! I'll improve upon't in the Directory To Italy then, "Achilles!" Oh Beaulieu! have care for "Achilles!" Barras sends greeting thee! young "Achilles!" Exit. SCENE III. DRAWING ROOM OF VISCOUNTESS de BEAUHARNAIS. Josephine, Barras mid Augusta with party of ladies and gentle- men in conversation. Bonaparte at one side. {Exit all but Bonaparte and Josephine.] Bonaparte. Your pardon Madam I Twas not through want of due respect For those your friends, or you, that I was so Oblivious to their presence or departure. Your chart of Italy is most correct, Though small, as I have learned of it. When overwhelmed in thought it is my fault That I too oft neglect the courtesy That rightfully is due to— Josephine. You certainly are quite excusable ! For, in these day^, those who protect our land Have little time lor social intercourse. Bonaparte. Most true. Most, true And yet the object of my visit here Is of a nature least akin to war. But to dispose of prefatory speech I will at once reveal myself. I am in love. Josephine. Not always least akin to war, Good General, and quite as often brings Its victims least of peace. But may I know, Since you already volunteer so much, The one so highly honored with the love • Of Toulon's conquerer, the General of France? Bonaparte. With all my heart as all my heart is yours! Madame, I demand your surrender! Be my wife! Josephine. "Is it a jest you indulge?" Bonaparte. Look I as one who jests ? My life has been As restless ever as a storm tossed sea! Seeking something it could not find ! Seeking what it knew not, yet feeling As if it were no more than half itself. I said, "it is ambition." Sought for fame. And easily obtained it. Yet a thirst, Burning and torturing me ceaslessly, Was unquenched. Above the clang Of clashing steel, and din of frightful war, Still came a Soul cry yet unsatisfied , When, like an apparition, all unbid Thou didst appear, dear Empress of my soul ! — In silence looks the Supreme Goddess down, Still beckoning me on to other fields— Lo! in defiance of all power, above, Beneath, I claim yor hand, and at your feet Will prostrate all! Aye, even to a world! Josephine. Though to surrender I should be inclined, Who knows but fate unfortunately steps Between me and your terms? Bonaparte. Fate! Can it be She appears to her? (aside) ine. Yes fate, my General. But of this let us speak no more. Enough that fate forbids that 1 should be The wife of General Bonaparte. Bonaparte. Madame! Would you trifle With me ? Josephine. No ! No ! I am most serious. In Martinique a prophetess foretold My fortune. So far her words oracular Have been fulfilled; conclude I then, the rest Will yet be realized. Bonaparte. Give me her words. Josephine. "You shall be Queeen of Trance! Yes more than Queen! And then, glorious life ! Happiest days Shall bless you! A mighty Emperor shall share With you his crown : whose power wil o'ertop Bonaparte. Josepine. Bonaparte The highest pinnacle that the great throne Of France has ever reached unto! But ah! Alas! misfortune then will come, And you more swiftly will be hurled down From your proud eminence than you arose. But loved more fondly in the day of death Than ever yet before, you will be mourned By all the world! To Fate I bid defiance ! Be my wife!— Do you refuse me ? General, you are Cruelly peremptory! Nay sweet friend ! I would not be so! Await your pleasure. And in meantime my constancy shall prove My homage to the future Queen of France. E2TTVB, A PAGE Page. Le Monsieur Ragideau. ine. (To Bonaparte.) Tis some affair of business I, think. Bonaparte. Give him an audience, I will retire. (Bonaparte retires to" u a place in the drawing-room, unobserved Joeephine. Admit Monsieur Ragadeau, Bagideau. ) (Exit page.) ENTER EAGIDEAU. Bagadeau. There is a private matter, not indeed An affair so much of business, and yet One which more closely interwoven is With your prosperity and happiness. And, now with deference to that which is Your own prerogative unquestionable, I should be found unworthy of your trust As honorable Advocate, should I Not warn you of so hazardous a step As that you contemplate in second marriage. Your friends have looked with great alarm Upon this change, as one fraught with great Uncertainty. Josephine. But my dear Advocate do you, Do you share with my friends in this alarm? Magideau. Yes! Most truly yes! Madame, you are rich and independent. Twenty-five thousand francs is no mean sum To come in yearly. Too much to give away. You are young, beautilul. Yes beautiful! I am no flatterer Madame ; that you know, I am your Advocate, and I tell you You can command who e'er you will. General Bonaparte may be noble, Good, generous, brave. He is a soldier, And poor. He must abide the fate of war. He must be separate from you, live so, For 'tis a soldiers lot — Fame is not sure. There are few Causers, Alexanders few, Yet millions have untimely found their graves Seeking that which few do gain. Put each of you the same at stake, The case would then be diflerent. Ah then the scene would be most beautiful ! Linking your fates to take what is to come. But in the scale, all else being equal, Your purse would quite outweigh his sword and hat. Josephine. But he is honorable, brave, and true !" Worships me as his idol — Have I not A purse that's strong enough tor both? Eagideau. Let me suppose a case.— You marry— Children are indeed the fruits of marriage— Another revolution overthrows Our government. General Bonaparte Is conspicuous in the Republic — His property and yours are confiscated And you with yours, are left To do as best you can— perhaps to suffer. I have not overdrawn my case is good. And history but proves the instability Of new, yes, all republics. Besides, Ever harrassed with fear, the soldiers wife Knows not whether she be wife or widow. Josephine. (Lauqhinglg) What think you General Of my good Advocates advice? {Bonaparte comes forward and takes Bagideau by the hand.) Bonaparte. Monsieur Jlagideau Has spoken like an honest man, for which I can but honor him. I trust his fears may not be realized And that he will to us give his consent To continue his good offices. Truly Can such a man be trusted. Exuent. Enter from one side Augusta and Hortense, and from other Eugene with hat nd cane. Eugene. I am glad to meet you. Hortense. We to meet you ! But brother you surprise us / Why is this ? What does it mean ? You promised to remain And read to us to night, Still we are but The creatures of our destiny. I am Required at the headquarters to-night Of -General Bonaparte. Hortense. Do you know The cause for which he sends for you? Eugene. __ Well no, And yet I do surmise it is to make A solider of me. Augusta and Hortense. Augusta. A Soldier? No! No! Eugene. From what he did convey as his his intent, To my mother and myself, I must think This is his purpose in sending for me. Hortense. But dear brother you will not, go? Eugene crosses to Augusta. There is something deeper than sisters love. [exit.] Eugene. Nay Sweetheart! do not be so sad/ Augusto. And will you go even though it is his wish? Eugene, My will is yours, I have no other, Sweet, Save when you will less for yourself than me. The Generals wish is near akin to law — Yet it may he that I am wrong in what I have inferred. And still if I he right Let it not rest so heavy on your heart We must remember, Love, nay ne'er forget That sorrow hardly less than this did bring Me to your side. "What is, is ever best. Augusta. Oh, would you leave me for the bauble fame ? Eugene. Leave you? No! No! Nay, not for all the world, Though it should lie an offering at my feet— Oh, without you, how empty it would be. Augusta, I cannot conceive of heaven Without you. Augusta. Eugene! Eugene! Eugene. My Darling, Hear me ! Oh, for a tongue to tell my love/ Impossible/ On such a theme all words Are impotent. Not long ago I stood Beside the sea. A distant storm had lashed The waves into a furious mutiny, Until they rolled high up upon the beach, A mountain range of spray, sun kissed to pearls. Oh, 'twas sublimely beautiful, and yet It had but little charm for me, Dear love!— But yesterday I visited the scenes Of Fontainbleau, its forests and chateau, "Where man and nature join their highest art. And, as from scene to scene, my eyes did pass "Where other eyes do find such fair delight, A longing, then as now unutterable, Filled my breast for you, and all comfortless I turned away; finding more pleasure in Drinking the zephyrs wafted from your home . I measure all, weigh all, count all by you/ The heighth of heaven is measured by my love! The weight of worlds my love for you out weighs ! And every moment counts as nothing Or with you. Augusta. Dear Eugene, I know you love me, And oh/ do you remember that sweet dream "When, sitting on the border of a stream, I watched the swans so graceful at my feet. Gliding amid translucent waves, "While the fragrant breath of water-lilies Lingered with song of birds upon the air, The while I thought of you, and wished that you Were by my side? And how a little boat Turned round the stream's quick curve ere I had wished? How that you sprang from it to clasp me in Your arms and press your precious lips to mine? Until at last, the hour sped, I waked In parting from you? Let me tell you now "What followed this a few weeks afterwad. Not far from where I dreamed there is a lake Within the body of a lonely park, And flowing into it there is a stream Not unlike that my dream disclosed to me. And this I visited some two months since; The swans were at my feet, and lilies sweet, And song of birds, all just as I had seen Them in my dream, were now reality. I lifted up my eyes to look for you. --An empty boat came round the bend! The agony of that one moment was An hundred deaths! Eugene thou wilt not go? Oh God/ the empty boat! Eugene, Dear love, you say, This was some two months past, yet we have seen Many sweet hours together since that time. If this strange circumstance has meaning, 'tis That, my short absence o'er, I will return To find with you new joys, as we have had Since then. Good cheer! good cheer! I may not go, Yet if I do, 'twill be but to return And lay my honors at your feet. Augusta. For your absence what honor could repay? Think you I care for honors? Oh my Love! 1 would not have you greater than you are. Great as the world calls great. To me there is Nothing so high but that you are above, Beyond it! Nay I could not wish for aught I do not find in you! What would you add Unto your excellence? Come, tell me Love. Eugene. Would you not see me honored among men, Commanding armies, wielding sword and pen Until my fame should reach throughout the world? Augusta. Those whom men honor are of little worth. God honors who are nearest like Himself. For one who rises many sure must fall. I would not see your greatness builded on Broken hearts and desolated homes, And, though your fame should reach throughout the world, I could not love you more than I do now. 1 am content with you just as you are, And would not have you one jot dilferent. Eugene. Oh Darling, Darling, would that I could feel That I were worthy of such love as this !— Though, 'twas with pride 1 heard the General speak, I only saw my future as for you! Achievment else were hollow mockery — But come, 38 You shall know all without delay. Good bye ! Good bye! {offers to go.) Augusta. Eugene! Eugene! a moment, wait! There's something tells me we shall not soon meet- But what though Aveary months do separate? Tnere's nothing can separate our souls,. Your spirit will remain with me, and mine Will follow you where ere you go. Eugene, When on the held of battle will you ask Yourself, ere you decide To take a step wherein great danger lies? "What would Augusta have me do?"— And I Will ever ask, even in smallest matters, "What would my Eugene counsel?" Must you go ? I cannot, cannot give you up Eugene ! There are a thousand things that I would say! I cannot let you go! Farewell! {Exit Eugene. Eugene! Eugene! (falls.) Curtain Falls ACT II, SCENE FIKST. PAELOES OF MADAME BONAPAETE. ENTER A PAGE. Page. Madame Bonaparte Regrets she cannot give you audience At once, but begs you will remain until She comes. Meantime, permit me to serve you. [Exit Page. Beturns with wine, then exit.} Barras. The musty adage of u a prophet's fame" Does not apply it seems to one who drinks. Wine deadens, is dull mettled, Takes hold upon the senses, rocks to sleep. A sweet sleep! but it lasts too long by half. The awakening is terrible. What have we here? Ah! Cognac! By Jove! Oh thou sparkling beauty ! queen of my soul! Thou giv'stan hundred years in one! [Urinks.\ Married, and off to Italy ! So soon to quit her! oh most cruel speed! 'Tis foulest slander on both sexes this, That full blown manhood could for such a cause Give o'er the very paragon of love! The perfect pattern! nay the Goddess of Pure symmetry! Ye Gods/ for fruit so rich I'd bid the world good night, and leave to fools The flimsy glories of uncertain fame! Wer't mine, this citadel of pleasure., I'd dwell in it, nor e'er be seen without, Though all the powers of earth did offer me An undivided tin-one ! Patriotism! Bah! The chameleon dish, well stew'd with fame, Seasoned all through and through with promises, Then served with golden spoon of Royalty, By those in power, to ambitious fools Whom they would use! Barras would prize a throne For what it added unto his desires, Nor risk too much obtaining it, since now His cup's well tilled! For, for your grave yard glory He could never find a relish. Then live ye for the future those who will! Barras in this life seeks to find his fill. By Jove ! this Bonaparte Has left rich pasturage for some man's colt/ I will look to't ! Who has a better right? l helped him to his greatness, 'tis but just He should repay me. I'll prescribe the terms! My choice of coin! I'll not take the Republic's But that less circulate of Royalty; Recently new stamped, but impaired ! i \a~^\ Oh, Beaulieu! trip this "Young Achilles"! And leave to me the sighing widow! Now to the Directory ? — If Bonaparte do meet success, why then Twas Barras raised him to his great oommand! But if he fall, as fall I pray he may, Since I do fear this growing Corsican, Then on poor Oarnot's shoulders rests the blame. And yet before she comes, A health to young '-Achilles" ! And yet again To that which he has left his friend! ENTER JOSEPHINE. Josephine. I do regret, Monsieur Barras To have kept you so long waiting! Bsrras. Pardon The untimely call ! The affairs of State, In these most busy end eventful times, Demand us unawares. Josephine. Monsieur, Have you advice from Italy? Barras. For this I called. The General through his brother and Gamet , Sends this to you, who to no other hands Would trust it than my own, being themselves Detained. I came at once to you, and beg, If any further service I can give, (hands her a letter) You will be pleased to grant the happiness Of such employment. Josephine. I am most grateful To you Monsieur, and if I feel the need Of further favors from such a friendship, I will be free to acquiant you of it. [exit Barras.] ENTER AUGUSTA AND HOKTENSE. Hortense. Oh mother more letters! Josephine, (reading) "My Darling Best of Friends. My brother will hand you this letter. I cherish for him the most intimate friendship. 1 trust he will also gain y uiir affection. He deserves it. Nature has gifted him with a tender and inexhaustable good character , he is lull oi rare qualites — I have received your letters of the 21st — you have indeed for many days forgotten to write to me. What then are you doing? yes my friend 'I am not exactly jealous but I am sometimes uneasy . Hasten then for I tell you beforehand if you delay I shall be sick — so great exertion combined with your absence is too much — Your letters are the joys of my days, and my happy days are not too many. Junot takes to Paris twenty two standards. You will come back 42 with him will you not? Misery without remedy, sorrow without comfort, unmitigated anguish will be my portion if it is my misfortune to see him comeback alone, my own adored wife! He will breathe at your shrine, and perhaps you will even grant him the special and unsurpassed privilege of kissing your cheek, and I will be far, far away — You will come here, at my side, to my heart, in my arms! Take wings, come! come! Yet journey slowly— the road is long, bad, fatigueing— If some ca- lamity were to happen — If the exertion — Set out at once my beloved one, but travel slowly. Bonaparte." Oh my own! my own! my soul! my life! Such letters! every day brings new token Of his unbounded love! How am I blessed! Will I come to thee ? Ask the tender flower If it will turn its fair face to the sun For life and strength! Or God's sweet choristers The birds, if they will sing for Him who gives The bright day for their happiness! Even As the soul would swiftly take its fight unto The source of its supremest ecstacy, I come! my love I come! How keen the edge of sweet expectancy, And how it pricks us on to realize What hope holds up to view! Yet, how often Do we in possession find less joy than In the dreaming of it ere 'twas ours! u No, No! Tis not true! This time 'twill not be true, We say; and yet how seldom does it fail! Augusta. Then if indeed most happiness exists In that expectancy which now precedes Reality, let us hope on ere we Do cheat ourselves of both. And if we find We had o'er estimated What did come, We've had at least the joy of looking for't. And are so much the winner. Augusta. ENTBE EUGENE {In uniform.-) Eugene/ Josephine. This is a happy surprise Eugene ! How long since you left Italy? Eugene. I came With Joseph Bonaparte, Junot And an escort that brought the trophies Of our victories. You letter too. Augusta. Josephine. How fares the General? Eugene. Josephine. Eugene. Eugene/ Did he not Express it to you? Oh, yes! But tell me, Is he indeed well ? For he ever puts The fairest face on every thing. He was, When I did see him last, in perfect health. Traces of care do seem to line his face Which only lend a finer dignity. Aside from this, And that he has some stouter grown, he is As when he quitted France. He bade me add The fairest words I knew, to what he wrote, And then assure you all was but a tithe Of that rice tribute he would pay to you Were words more eloquent. Augusta. And spake he not Of me? Eugene. After remembrance, and his love, He left the rest to me, wherein he said You would find more delight. To sweet Hortense He sent a hundred kisses and this ring, The one I give now and the others will Before I go. Josephine. So he remembers all ! How rich is he in every tender thought That lends to manhood the fair lustre of Of loves constancy. ENTEB A PAGE. Page. Madame Therese de Talien Josephine. Say that I attend her. Come, Hortense! [exit Josephine and Hortense.] Augusta. How slowly have the hours dragged, Eugene. Yet am I paid for all a thousand times In this sweet moment on your breast. For this I have many dangers braved, Augusta, Yet count them all as naught. I would add mor« Yea wer't to cross a continent of foes And every foe an hundred Austrian's strength! This moment! tais! awaiting me, would nerve My arm to wield a sword against them all. Augusta. Speak on, Darling, and oh let me hear The music of thy voice. It has been long, So long, since I have listened to it, love. Eugene. Do you remember how at my feet You used to sit, the while I told, In fondest words I knew, my love? And then Would hold up fairest pictures of the life In store for us? What castles did we build! What happy visions rose before us then. But none that equaled this reality. There was one look, sweeter than all the rest, You gave to me at times. It was a look You could not give unto another, for Your very soul was couched in it. There! There! It beams up to ine now! Oh my Darling! —How that one look has nestled in my heart Through all the weary hours of my absence/ How has it cheered me when all else was vain/ How like a light from heaven let down to me Illumined my path, and as a beacon Brought me back to you ! Augusta. Speak on! Oh there is a melody that lifts to heaven In your voice! Hove to hear you praise me, Not for the praise, but that it tells me of Your love. Speak on! Eugene. Nay, Darling, for you love, Your very beauty robs me of my words. "What eloquence could rise to such a theme ? Yet, since it does delight you, I will tell Of a fair scene in Italy, where oft I'v sat and looked, and dreamed, and wished for you, And that it were our home. A sun-lit vale Where perfumed grasses were all interspersed With flowers rare and rich. Fair jasamine, With breath only less sweet than that wherein Your kisses nestle, magnolias, dasies, Roses innumerable, heliotropes And thousand other sweets, the zephyrs bore Through bower and glen and circled round my head In eddying swirl. There seemed a melody Of song, to rise from grass and flower, and The birds caught this and carried it into The higher measures of their dulcet strains! Then it did echo through the glen until, Following down the fringes of the stream, That ran just through the center of the vale, It lost itsself upon the boundless sea. Here and there were little groves, Some larger and some smaller, lovely all, And tinted with a thousand hues of green! And some old trees, staid warders of the vale, Were rich with clambering arbutus, Or roses that crept up their massiva trunks, Or other vines, innumerable found, That sought the very topmost bows, to peep Out firstin loveliest blossom and catch The morning glory of the sun. Augusta. Eugene. Fair clouds Were ever blushing in diviuest tints, Casting the softest shadows on the vale Beneath. And but one charm was wanting. What) Your presence Darling! Then 'twould nothing lack Of heaven for Eugene . RE-ENTER JOSEPHINE. Josephine. ( To Eugene. ) Some deep design Is working now against us, something new. Barras is at the bottom oft again. What have you learned ? 'Tis well that I am here. Yes,for we'll have a trusty messenger. Wnat is't? Impart. Eugene. Josephine. A scheme is now on foot, Laid by the crafty Barras and Gohier, By which our General is to be betrayed Into the hands of Boulieu. Botot Is sent as secret messenger to day To help despatch this business. Of whom And by what means is all of this known? Josephine. Our friend, Therese de Tallien. But how, And by what fortune learned she this ? From him, Le Monsieur himself, o'er whom she has An absolute control. For know, he is At once a pliable and simple fool In presence of a pretty woman. Well then, he may be useful made to us, More than Barras and the conspirators, Josephine. For we have the most witching loveliness In France. Josephine. A pretty compliment? Our thanks? But we have little time for such to day. Eugene. Are others implicated in the plot? Josephine. Only by inference ; as he himself Is not committed in a way that we Could use as evidence. Eugene. "We will mature Our plans and by to.morrow after him. (offers to go.) Augusta. But why such haste away where go you now? Eugene' It is the hour when the directory Will be surprised with what we did bring back From Italy. They are in waiting for me. My duty done, I will return to you. (Exuent.) SCENE II. LUXEMBOURG. the :di:r,:ecto:r^. CAENOT— BAEEAS— LAEEVELLLIEEE LEPEAUX— EEW- BELL— LETOUBNEUE— SECEETAEIES AND SOLDIEES. Carnot Presiding. ENTMB A COUETIEE. Courtier. "General Joseph Bonaparte, Junot and Beauharnais, with tidings from the seat of war in Italy." Carnot. Immediately admit them! {Enter Joseph Bonaparte and Junot followed by courtiers bearing stand- ards. ) Joseph Bonaparte. Citizen Directors The General of France sends greeting you Trophies of victory from Italy, And humbly lays them at your feet, as at The shrine of France. Carnot. Sends he no detail Of affairs? Though quite enough to till our hearts With joy. the standards of our beaten foes, We are most eager but to hear report Of how 'twas all accomplished. Joseph Bonaparte. ( Taking the banner on which was inscribed the Bulletin. ) He has indeed great victories to tell And on our flag has caused them all to be Inscribed. {Meads on one side.) "To the army of Italy. The greatful country." (Beads on other side.) 115000 prisoners, 170 standards, 550 pieces of battering cannon, 600 pjeces ot held artiiery, 5 bridge equipages, 9 sixty-four gun ships, 12 thirty-two gun frigates, 12 corvetts, 18 galleys, Armistice with the King of Sardinia, Convention with Genoa, Armistice with the Duke of Parma. Armistice with the King of Naples, Armistice with tae Pope, preliminaries of Leoben, convention of Montebello with the republic of Gonoa, treaty of peace with theEmperor, at Campo Formo, Liberty given to the people of Balogna, Ferara, Modena, Massa Carrara, 4!) La" Romagna, Lombard y, Bressera, Bormio, The Valentina, The Genoese, The Imperial Feifs, the people of the departments of Coreigra, of the Aegean Sea, and of Ithaca. Sent to Paris all the masterpieces of Michael Angelo, of Genercino, of Titian, of Paul Veronese, of Corregio, of Albano, of Carracu, of Raph- ael, and of Leonardo da Vinci." (During the reading of this report, Barras has shown evident signs of displeasure. Garnoton the contrary is greatly excited — As the report progresses all rise to their feet. C'arnot comes down from his chairTearing the clothes from his breast he aisplays a minature of Napoleon which he had concealed there — Holding it up to Joseph Bonaparte ex- citedly — Carnot. Tell your brother That 1 do wear him next unto my heart! (Then turning to the Directory.) Go lire your guns! Ring wildly every bell! Scream with the fife! Let the shrill bugle tell With clang of steel and the unmuffled drum And loud huzzas, that victory has come ! Fire, Eire the guns ! Let deep toned thunder roll Throughout Great France, filling each patriot soul With victory's shouts, uprising from the heart! Vive la Republic! Vive le Bonaparte! All. (except Barras.) Vive la Republic ! Vive le Bonaparte ! Shouting, Cannons, Bells and Drums without— Scene changes to Paris Illnminated. CURTAIN FALLS, ACT III. JSALUCkJCLm SCENE FIRST. Dra-wingroom of the Palace of* SERBELLONL Bonaparte and Eugene are discovered reading journals from Paris. Bonaparte. Contemptible! I cannot understand why tfaart this is O Permitted. It is within the power Of the Directory to punish as For any other treasonable words, For we are France, no less! and these attacks Against us personally, are no less Than against our France. Eugene. Such silence is no less Than tacit acquiescence, and but proves The sympathy of the Directory With those, your enemies, and jealousy Gainst you. Bonapaate. This is the import of it all. And yet cannot I understand why they Snould be so blinded to the interests Of France, nay even their own interests Most selfish, as to let this jealousy Creep in and so dispoil them in a night Of all the vantage they might borrow from The lustre of my star— They cannot think That I will patiently endure this long I Do they not realize that I have power To crush them, each and all, as with this hand I crush their filthy evidence of spleen ? (Me takes up another journal) There's language here that bears The spirit of Barras, unless I miss — Why here are his very words I Can it be Possible he should be such a bungler, As to permit his eccentricities Of speech to thus betray him in the print?— So — So-'I'll have a closer eye on you Monsieur Barras ! I never trusted him Eugene, you know 1 never trusted him. Eugene. And I myself do find a keen delight Now as ever in despising him — Bonaparte. That is unworthy of you Dear Eugene, Great Souls do not descend to it. Nor this Nor envy ever dwells within the hearts Of the truly great. In youth 'tis pardoned, But must be out grown. These wasps may sting us, And the sting may itch, ther's poison in it, So, it may fret the skin, but that is all . ( Heads. ) •'He keeps the plunder"— Rare rhetoricians! To what do they refer?— "He does affect A heartless despotism, overrides All law. Why this^abominable. L*s To "affect" ! To "affect despotism" 1 What masterly in venom ed slander thisl L- I like the knave and will requite him for't. I am humiliated, feeling that They have the power to annoy me thus. I never shall be truly great 1 fear. Eugene-it is these little things that fret And so disturb us, more than all else In the vicissitudes of life — Henceforth Let us look above and far beyond them . ENTER JOSEPHINE. [exit.] Eugene. Mother, There's none I may approach but you in this That weighs so heavy on my heart. Pardont And hear me: For years I have admired, Nay loved, nay more, adored Augusta. She has been the object of eveiy hope. Ambition, prayer. Oh, I have worshiped her! My highest pleasure was alloyed with pain Unless she shared it with me. Greater joys Were quite impossible, I could not know A happiness without her, but with ber Was continual ecstacy. And she — She loved me, it did seem, even as her life. "Think of me when you will," she one time wrote, "I am ever thinking of you Darling, And loving you, oh very, very dearly!" Enough. — She loved me then. — But now, no more! I do appreciate this confidence. You have my fullest sympathy, Eugene. But may I know the cause of all this change ? Eugene. When I know. I have been too fond I think; I shrined her goddess in my heart, and she Would soar now far beyond me. — I but pray That from her airy height she ne'er mav fall . To have entombed her, easier had been Than this, for then her spirit had remained With me. But now our souls are seperate Throughout eternity !— Oh God ! — Eugene!— Why this is madness boy ! Come, tell me all, Josephine. Aud I may help you. "What help can come To one whose life is gone? She was my life! 'Tis said, the resurrection. But from this May no new life be born. All, all is lost! Josephine. Not all, Eugene, you have your mother left. And sweet Hortense. Josephi Eugene. Ah yes, I know, I know ! I love you very dearly, but my heart Did worship her! It knows no heaven beyond. For you, and for Hortense, I'll leave— a name. Josephine. Eugene Speaks like himself in this. And yet, why leave A name? Why not share your hours with us? You now are in the morning of your life,' And glory seems already hovering close About your head. You will be great, Eugene, And good, I trust. Eugene. Shall love step out And greatness enter? Farewell to glory Were much easier said than farewell love ! One is of earth, the other infinite. — Josephine. But come, you have not yet conveyed to me The evidence that she is false to you, You may be rash . Eugene. Bash! Hear me and then judge. As well you know, 'tis near what should have been Our wedding day, which was to celebrate Her quick return from Berlin. — Her absence Bore full heavily upon me, for I, It seemed, could only think or dream of her— With her, how different the sequel shows. Though, when she said farewell, she wept Eight bitterly— She must have loved me then. At first her letters in succession came As she had promised them. So eloquent, In sweet simplicity of Love, that I "Was lifted into rapture. Followed then Less frequent, shorter, without interest. Till, from my friends, I learned that she had been Attended close and constant by Botot. To day she did return, a week before I did expect her, and with this Botot, "Who was still near her, but an hour ago. With me she has not deigned to meet. Josephine. Eugene, I think that I do understand it all. Wait my return. [Exit Josephine.] Eugene. She almost bade me hope, when there is no hope! From such a fall as this we may not rise. A brilliant life will happ'ly shorter be- E'en as a falling star, whose light goes out "When its effulgence most attracts our view, So shall my glory through this little world, Blaze like a meteor in the firmament And then go out forever! Oh farewell! Farewell Augusta! now am I resolved! {He-enter Josephine, gives letters to Eugene) Josephine. This did I find in waiting for you. [exit.] Eugene. (Reads.) My Dear Eugene. I have just dismissed Monsieur Botot as I have no further use for him; having learned all that was necessary to assist M'me. Bona- parte in her plans to save the General from a plot that was to deliver him in person into the hands of the enemy. In as much as I have dismissed Monsieur Botot rather unceremonious- ly, since his attentions had become annoying to me, he may undertake to avenge himself upon you, and I thought it best to acquaint you at once with the situation. This will somewhat explain the past few weeks and my sudden return, till I can see you. Do not keep me long in waiting for, alter our separation, and the labor and excitement consequent upon the undertaking that has happ'ly terminated successfully, I am all impa- tience to meet you. "Augusta." Eugene. (Jan you ever forgive me Oh my darling! No, you shall not wait long? ['Exit.] SCENE SECOND. nVEil^tm. PALA.CE OF SERBELLONI. The palace interior represents great luxury. Decorations,, rare paintings &c, &c, adorn the walls. Festoons of drapery cover th& ceilings, which are supported by marble columns. The scene is a large salon, divided into three rooms by marble columns. In room furthest back, a number of ladies and gentlemen. — In mid- dle room are discovered Josephine and ladies. In front room Bonaparte — Eugene — Augereau and other gentlemen, in conver- sation. Bonaparte. The Duke of Parma is unfortunate, But, lett where now he is, he'll do no harm, And will no doubt serve well our purpose, Carrying each order fully to its end Which we do execute. But cut him off, And give his dukedom to another, and He will ever stir up strife and institute Fresh intrigues. "Here he can be useful made But elsewhere only hurtful." Tis policy Without a compromise of principle To continue him in office. — Augereau. "But he is Bourbon, General, A Bourbon." Bonaparte. "Well then he is a Bourbon. — Has nature therefore made him less for it? Pst so despicable a family ? Because three Bourbons have been killed in France 1 Follows it that we must hunt the others down? Proscriptions falling thus upon a name, A family, a vOtnUm entire class, I never did and never will approve." Those who do wrong ever should meet justice, And, in so far as I have strength it shall, And ev^r has been done. But never yet, Nor ever shall my power be given To strike the innocent for the offense Of others. "Canst' punish France for the crimes Of the Sans Culottes? You say the Bourbons Are the enemies of freedom; they were led To the guillotine under a right which I do not acknowledge. The Duke of Parma Is weak— a poltroon — he will not stir — His people seem to love him! for we are here Yet they they rise not, they utter no complaint. He shall continue then to rule as long As he does pay what I exact of him. — " ENTMB, the astronomer ORIANI, attended by Courtier. Courtier. Le Proffesseur Oriani. Bonaparte. We are indeed most happy Proffessor That you do make one of our guests to day. Oriani. "Ah, General this magnificence With which you are surrounded, dazzles me" Bonaparte. "Can it be such miserable splendors blind A man who every night does contemplate The far more lofty and impressive glories Of the skies?" Permit me, Professor, To present you to Madame Bonaparte. C conducts him to 2nd room. ) Madame Bonaparte Le Proffesseur Oriani. Present Our distinguished friend to the ladies. | (returns to front room.) "Even Science bends before me! (aside) 58 ENTER THE MAEQUIS MANFKEDINI attended Courtier. Courtier, Le Marquis Manfredini ; Ambassador Of the Grand Duke of Tuscany Bonaparte. Great honor do we feel In meeting The Ambassador of Tuscany. The more in that he is The Marquis Manfredini. Manfredini. Humbly our Grand Duke bows before The Greatest Conqueror of Italy, The General most excellent of France; Sends greeting him a fervent friendship! And in sincerity does pray, He may find no less fame throughout the world, Than he already has so nobly won In Italy. Unto his sweet Lady, Fit Empress of the throne of Love, he would His homage pay as 'twere before the shrine Of every heavenly virtue — • Only regretting that affairs of State Make his own presence here impossible. Yet, through his Ambassador, he begs You will convey to him your pleasure and Intent regarding Tuscany. For, though Great confidence he entertains, as for Every good and noble quality in General Bonaparte, yet before power There is always fear in breasts of those who Stand so far beneath. He would assurance Humbly crave of your-good will. Bonaparte. "Signor Marquis, You remind me of a certain creditor Who once did importune in modest phrase, Coupled with great flattery and confidence, The Cardinal de Rohan, "when he would Be kind enongh to pay him." ' 'My Dear Sir," Said the Cardinal, "I pray you do not be So very curious."— If your "Grand Duke, Will only quiet keep, he will suffer Little injury. Allow me worthy Marquis to present You to the Lady whom you justly praise. ( escorts him to 2nd room, returns. ) Have given out that we transact no more Of business to day. {to Eugene.) Eugene. The Ambassadors of Venice Wait without. Bonaparte •Josephine. Bonaparte. "Say that to Venice I will an Attila be!" Would they hear more, bid them come to-morrow. (steps to '2nd room.) Now, favor us with a sweet native air Of Martinique. (to Josephine.) First, pardon me, the great artist, Le Gros, Has long been waiting my command, and your Good pleasure, for a sitting — you will not Force us to wait longer Mon Ami\ (All retire to 2nd room but Josephine and Bonaparte.) No, no, f.ase cowardice! 2nd Member. Shame! Shame! ( Cheers on the Bight. ) 3rd Member. Such language is An insult to the Council! ( Cheers on the Left. ) The President. This must cease, Or we will end in an arch y. Gohier. I rise to ask if the member's charge, Of cowardice, means to apply to men Or measures? 1st Member Gohier To both ! Then I hurl it back And challenge to a test! {Great Confusion.) Barrels. This is madness! Are we devoid of reason ? Hear, oh hear ! Who is to profit by this senseless strife? The Great Republic? No. Nor you, nor I, Nor either ot these factions ! Such a course Can only end in the destruction Of us all! Who seeks the good of this, our France! 1st Member. Not Barras ! 3rd Member. Shame ! Shame ! 1st Member. Conspirator! Behold the arch consprator! Voices. Conspirator! 1st Member. Tell us of Georges, and the Chouans, Whom you employed to do the murder of Our Bonaparte ! Barras. I ask again, Who seeks the good of this our France ? Let him Propose a sacrifice that he will make, And I will clasp his hand and go with him To his extremest measure, even life! What then, are we through passion to lose all? In this extremity, we are but ripe For anarchy. Ho, Patriots! would you feel The Despot's iron yoke upon your necks? The Usurper comes by stealthy strides, And even now is at our gates ! ENTER NAPOLEON AND EUGENE. See! See! Even at my word he comes ! Away with him ! drd Member. Down with him ! Another Member. He is a traitor ! Another Member. Cromwell ! Several Voices. Down with the Usurper! Bonaparte. Citizens, hear me ! Voices. Down with him! Traitor! Traitor! Usurper! Bonaparte. Will you not hear me ? Voices. No! No! Down with him! (They rush towards him. Eugene has signaled the Grenadiers at the door, who surround him.) A Voice. Down with the Usurper! He brings soldiers to overawe us! Bonaparte. "Who Loves me, let him follow me ! {Marches out guarded by Grenadiers. Shouts without — Vive le Bonaparte.) Bonaparte. — [At the door] Protect The President of The Five Hundred! (Soldiers with Eugene at their head march in and escort the President out. Confusion.) CURTAIN FALLS. AOTV. SCENE FIRST. THE OOIRO^T^TIOIIsr. Pantomime. Upon the opening of this scene is discovered the interior of Notre Dame, decorated ivith uneqioaled magnificence-- Hangings of white velvet, sprinkled ivith golden bees, sus- pended from, the roof to the floor — The roof of beautiful azure and brilliant stars. Th e throne of the Emperor and Empress represents a monument within a monument, betiveen two columns, sup- porting a pediment upon which is a representation of the croivn of Charlemange. This throne has drapery of crimson velvet under a can- opy. Is reached by semi-circular steps, carpeted in white, spangled with golden bees. On the left is seen the throne designed for the Pope, with drapei-y of white velvet, over which, a pediment supporting a diamond cross. Directly in front of either throne, in the centre of the stage, is the altar, of white velvet, on which is seen the Scep- ter*, the Sword and the Imperial crowns. The Prelates are discovered on either side of the throne intended for the Pope. The Bonaparte family, on either side of the throne of the Emperor and Empress. At the right dignitaries of state. Enter POPE PIUS VII. Arrayed in white, he approaches the altar— kneels, then ascends his throne. The Prelates approach and salute him ENTER NAPOLEON and JOSEPHINE. They approach the altar and kneel— Pope descends iyom his throne, comes to altar, holds his hands over them in blessing. Napoleon raises his head and is annointed by Pope on forehead, arms, and hands. Pope then takes sword— Napol- eon rises' 'Pop6 holds sword as if blessing then girds on Na- poleon. The it offers to take crown, but Napoleon quickly reaches it himself and deliberately places it upon his own head. He then takes the crown of the Empress, and, as she is still kneeling beside him, places it gently on her head, then raises it and replaces it coquettishly to one side. Then taking her by the hand she arises The Pope then blesses scepter and gives to Napoleon. The Emperor and, Empress ascend their throne. The Pope then advances to the foot of the Grand Throne and raises his hands in benenediction. 85 SCENE SECOND. PALACE IMPERIAL. THE EMPEKOK'S PRIVATE PARLORS DIMLY ILLUMINATED. Napoleon. Thus far has Fate the firm alliance kept. Thus far through scenes ot fratricidal strife, And bloody, devastating, frightful war, From conquering to conquer, led her son. Till now great France and all her power, lands, Rivers, seas, immensity of wealth, And teemingmillions of brave chivalry, Are but the subjects of his scepters sway! But, oh, great Goddess! at what price is this! Unto that last, dark, dismal sleep, thou'st sent Unnumbered hecatombs of human forms, From which to raise this sad renown ! The sighs, the tears, the anguish of despair, The body's torture, and the soul's defeat. The wailing millions of a world attest! Oh, Goddess! Who can measure that great cup, Wherein has been contained the sorrow's depth, Which thou hast forced the world to drink for him ? •Eternity alone!! And soon there will come, even for thy son, . The end that is decreed for all. To sleep That long last sleep, which goes forever on, Without a dream ! Goddess where then thy son? On whom shall the Imperial mantle fall? Childless, thou leavest him to reign alone! Across the dark abyss of death, no tie! — • Canst' bridge the awful chasm? — Oh! No! No! Josephine. I will not cross on it ! ! Oh, Josephine ! ! — I did defy Your power for her! Is this the penalty, My fruitless loins? — I did defy, and, lo! I do defy you still! I will not pay Ambitions price! It is too dear! too dear! No! No! I will not pay ambitions price! Josephine! My Josephine! Oh save me! Save me! {enter Josephine ; he rushes to and embraces her Here ! Oh, here is my ambition ! My peerless ! peerless wife ! Dids't thou call me? Wherefore Avith voice so wild and sorrowful? Bonaparte. A hell of ugly dreams environed me! Thou wilt not leave me? Why such a question/ My noble one, knowest thou not my love? Oh I do love the beyond worlds! Bonaparte. Yes ! Yes ! My own! My precious one! Lead me away. I would have rest. [Exeunt.] BE-ENTMB, JOSEPHINE. Josephine. Ah, he has struggled hard 'gainst Fate, And I forgive him, though lie cast me oil". How, by each slender thread, we cling to hope, Only, at last, to meet a sad defeat! When he did constitute, his heir Apparent to the throne, his brother's child By Sweet Hortense, the crown prince of Holland — Then, on bright wings of hope, I sailed, at rest, Serenely through love's sky. But, ah! Alas! Death claimed him for his own ! And, from hopes heights, I fell on craggy disappointment, bruised Even unto the heart. Then named he Eugene ''Italy's vice King," And added to his name, "our crown's great heir." Then! Oh, then this golden chain, let down From heaven, lifted me, once more Unto the dizzy realms above the clouds! But ah, by one word, severed was this chord, And now I lie. bleeding upon the earth, "Where all that's left is dreadful fear! Waiting, But without hope, for what shall come.. Still! Still he loves me! Loves me beyond his soul ! But oh, thou Fate ! Imagination's Goddess! Bound him Thou exerci'st a charm more strong, by tar, Than Josephine ! Ambitions appetite Thou whet'st, with base deceiving promises And threatening forms, as of command, until Thou seern'st indeed a veritable power! Oh finite mind how incomplete art thou! Help me to be resigned, sweet heaven! And ye who dwell around the throne, sublime, Eternal, of the King of Kings, look down On wretched Josephine! Then plead with Him, Who is your Sovereign Lord, that she may have That peace which He alone can give ! No! No! It cannot be! I cannot lose thee! Give thee unto another ! ! Oh Monstrous ! ! Monstrous ! ! [exit.] RE-ENTER NAPOLEON. He sits at table. ( Paper and 'writing materials before him. ) Takes up pen to write. — The pen drops from his hand. Napoleon. Thou woulds't not tremble so To sign thy death warrant! The arm of Fate, The hand that holds the destiny of France, Should bear a steadier nerve. Ah, thou has shown thy loyalty To Josephine ! Now, what thou owest to France! ( Writes.) (Jiising.) 'Tisdone! Oh, Goddess! I have paid the price ! ! {Exit.) SCENE THIRD. EMPEROR'S CABINET. JOSEPHINE is discovered attended by Augusta and Hortense. ENTER NAPOLEON Attended by Eugene, the King and Queen of Naples, the King and Queen of Westphalia, the Princess Borghese, the Chancellor Cam- baceres and Count liegnaud de Saint Jean d' Angel. The two lat- ter asofficiers de Vetat civil for the Imperial family. Napoleon advances to Josephine, speaks to her. She comes dotvn the stage, supported by Augusta and H or tense- Napoleon. {Heads.) " My Cousin Prince Arch-Chancellor: — I sent yon a closed letter of this day's date, ordering you to present yourself in my cabinet, that I might make known to you the resolution which 1 and the Empress, my very dear spouse, have come to. 1 was very glad that the kings, queens, and princesses, my brothers and sisters, my brothers-in-law and sisters in-law, my step-daughter and stei>-son, become my adopted son, should be present at what I had to make known to you. " The policy of my monarchy, the interest and the necessity of my peoples, Av ! .\ich have constantly guided all my actions, require that I should leave after me to children, inheritors of my love for my people, this throne on which Providence has placed me. For many years, however, I have lost the hope of having children by my marriage with my well-belov- ed spouse, the Empress Josephine; this it is that induces me to sacrifice the dearest affections of my heart, to hearken only to the good of the state, and desire the dissolution of our marriage. " Arrived at the age of forty, 1 may concieve the hope of living long enough to bring up after my own mind and my own views, the children it shall please Providence to give me. G-od knows how much such a resolu- tion has cost my heart; but there is no sacrifice too great for my courage, when it is demonstrated tome that it is for the good of Prance. "•I cannot conclude without saying, that far from having ever had reason to complain, 1 have, on the contrary, only ecomiums to bestow on the attachment and tenderness of my well-beloved spouse. She has em- bellished fifteen years of my life; the memory of this will always remain engraved on the memory of my heart. She has beeu crowned by my hand: it is my desire that she retain the rank and title of Empress, but above all, that she never doubt my sentiments, and that she always hold me for her best and dearest friend." Josephine. (Heads.) "With the permission — ( Hands MS. to M. Regnaud. ) M. Iiegnaud. (Reads.) " With the permission of * august and clear spouse, 1 must declare, that retaining no hope of having children who may satisfy the require- ments of his policy and the interests of France, I have pleasure in giving him the greatest proof of attachment and devotedness that was ever given on earth. 1 owe all to his bounty; it was his hand that crowned me, and on his throne I have received only manifestations of affection and love from the French people. "I think to evince my gratitude for all these sentiments, in consenting to the dissolution of a marriage which is now an ohstacle to the good of France, which deprives it of the happiness of being one day governed by the descendants of a great man, so evidently raised up by Providence to efface the evils ot a terrible revolution, and to re-establish the altar, the throne, and social order. But the dissolution of my marriage will make no change in the sentiments of my heart; in me, the Emperor will always have his best friend. I know how much this act, commanded by policy, and by such great interests, has rent his heart; but we both of us glory n the sacrifice which me make to the good of the country." (Josephine falls.) Napoleon, with folded arms, regarding her. Josephine. At last! At last! Tne end has come. And now I pass beyond Those scenes where, with our happiness, ever Must be intertwined grief's bitter stings. Now! Now those visions of my youth No longer are concealed. Time's hand hath traced In living letters all. Swiftly they speed Before me, one by one — and now return, In lite like form, to tell met>f the past. —Yes, more than Queen wast thou, Oh, Josephine! —What? What:'' My hammock! Mary's voice!— The Sea! The Sea ! — Was't even so? How true to history.— Speed ! Speed ! My eyes do weaken— Oh, I would See all ere I depart. Tisgone! Tisgone!— Again they come! But different forms — The future! Ah, the future! Oh, tell on! —Confusion— war— once more a throne! [Aparition of Louis Napoleon.] Hortense! Hortense, behold your son! [Aparition of Napoleon I V.] And his! And his! The Fourth Napoleon! Great France! At last your happiness has come. — Part, part your elements, etherial dome! Bright Angels, it is finished ! Bear me home. Farewell, oh earth! Farewell Napoleon! [Dies.] All withdraw except Eugene, Aiujusta and Hortense, who fall on their knees by the side of Josephine. Napoleon, as before, silently regarding her. As Josephine's last words are concluded, THE ISLAND OF ST. HELENA is disclosed, against which the waves are dashing, enveloped in clouds. The clouds are lifted, when, the grave of Napoleon is discovered, THE SPIRIT OF THE DEPARTED JOSEPHINE hovering over it. [CURTAN FALLS. \ \ \ \ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 112 378 A