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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Chai)r!??..'.7c^^ight No. 
 
 ShellLG-S-T ^3 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
^' MAR 
 
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R Fait? praud. 
 
 A PLAY 
 
 a» (5lanviUe< 
 
 AUTHOR OF ' 'IN LAMECH S REIGN, " "AN EYE FOR AN EYE, 
 "CHAIN OF HISTORY," ETC. 
 
 CHICAOO: 
 1897. 
 
 KA^^ INCLC2 ^ *z 
 

 ■U2S 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY A, GLANVILLE 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 I have always endeavored to avoid trespassing upon 
 the rights of others, be they with or without friends, 
 and hence I deem it necessary to say, briefly: 
 
 First, the theosophical paragraphs, put into the 
 mouth of Adele, in act II, scene I, which are quoted, 
 are not mine nor do I lay any claim to them. I have 
 seen fit to use them because theosophists are better able 
 to portray their own ideas than I. and because they 
 could not then have grounds for misrepresentation. If 
 it be considered unfair to choose but few saying among 
 many, I will say to those who would have the setting 
 with the jewels, the articles can be found in their en- 
 tirety in M-rcury, Vol. Ill, No. 3. and Notes and Qzieries, 
 Vol. XIV, No. 10. 
 
 Second, I have been influenced somewhat in act III. 
 scene I. i. e.^ the gipsy entertainment, by that familiar 
 play '-A Parlor Match.'' Men of means being those 
 who contribute most to the success of the drama, and 
 the majority of them being students of business and not 
 of books, it is but fair that we offer some various amuse- 
 ment, which is the want of their holiday humor, and 
 without which the best of plays grows tedious and dull. 
 There being many tastes among men, and critics being 
 but a small division, it is a question of the day whether 
 we should please them or please the multitude. But if 
 
art may be so combined with simplicity as to arouse 
 both love and laughter, and point to virtue while we 
 entertain, then is there added to a misty world some 
 brightness, which, I am bold to say, is the object of all 
 art. 
 
 If there be other things found in the following lines 
 that others have said before me, they may be the glean- 
 ings from books that have lingered too long in my mind, 
 whose sources have become forgotten, and are rather 
 the thefts of time than intention. 
 
 I beg the public's pardon for putting upon their 
 much taxed patience another book, of which 
 
 I am, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 AHgust 30th, 1897. 
 
A FAIR FRAUD. 
 
 DRAMATIS PERSON^E. 
 
 Adele, an heiress. 
 
 Madame Nevell, Adele's stepmother. 
 MoRissEAu, Adele's lover. 
 Mr. Steward, Adele's uncle. 
 Mrs. Steward, Adele's aunt. 
 Harford, Morisseau's friend. 
 Carroty, a gardener. 
 Waiting Woman. 
 
 Servants, woodmen, gipsies, lunatic, etc. 
 
 Scene: First, a city tnansion and surroundings ; seconds 
 a country home and woods near it. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene I. A walk near the Nevell mansion. 
 
 Enter Adele. 
 A. If he truly loves me — if — if — 
 O, what a word is if! The little big 
 Conjunction of our doubts. Who was it put 
 That stammering word into our steady speech? 
 If — he sware he loved me and his look 
 Betrayed no other thought, but yet many 
 
8 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 A maid has been so fooled before. If he 
 Loves me as I love him, with all my heart, 
 My soul, my life — if it were not for if 
 How happy I could be. How shall I know? 
 I am a day of June in autumn's woods 
 And do not know the pathway back to summer. 
 Enter Madame Nevell, attended. 
 
 M. N. Well, well! your cheeks are tinted 
 of the rose, 
 A lesson in delsarte? 
 
 A. No — no. 
 
 M. N. You may 
 
 Depart, I've other company. 
 
 \_Exeunt attendhnts. 
 Perhaps 
 There's some relation 'twixt your blush and our 
 Young friend's departure. 
 
 A. Why, think you my blood 
 
 Is quickened when a man do leave the place? 
 
 M. N. I do not know, indeed — how should 
 I know — 
 And yet I think my guess is rather shrewd. 
 We all do love sometime, and oftenest 
 Before we count full score. I hope you will 
 Not prove so stoical as be exception 
 To the rule. 
 
 A, As it do please you then, 
 
 I am in love. 
 
A Fair Fraud, g 
 
 M. N. Why so was I long since. 
 
 A. Young Morisseau, whose going you did 
 note, 
 Wafted his heart to me upon his sighs, 
 When he some moments since asked me to be 
 His bride. But I — I did not know — I would 
 Have answered yes, I longed to answer ye«, 
 But that old saying ever kept ringing 
 Upon my ears, ''men are deceivers ever," 
 So I said — I know not what I said, 
 That when he called again I'd answer him, 
 Or something like to it, and so he went. 
 And then you came before I had decided 
 To be miserable with my doubt 
 Or happy with my love. Would that I lived 
 Before men were dishonest, or that 1 
 Ne'er heard the old, sage adages about 
 The lies of lovers. 
 
 M^ N. Time enough, my love; 
 
 Enter Harfoed behind^ unobserved. 
 When you get husbanded, if God do bless 
 You with a gray old age, you'll be a long 
 Time married. 
 
 A. So it is, indeed, that I 
 
 Would know, and surely know — but how? If I 
 Say "no" I will so surely be not happy, 
 Thus do I not gain my happiness 
 By saying "yes" I can console myself 
 
10 A Fair Frmid. 
 
 With thoughts of how it would have been no 
 
 better 
 Saying no. 
 
 M. N. Twin sister that to grief. 
 Here is another, better way: see you 
 How far his love will take him from his com- 
 fort. 
 Test his love, my dear. To try all things 
 Is a good christian rule. Affect that you 
 Are drawn toward some hobby: woman's rights, 
 Or politics, or such, if he do love 
 You he will love you still. Is it a thing 
 Of little moment to him soon the sham 
 Of seeming ardor will come out like elbows 
 From a beggar's ragged coat. Is not 
 The plan some good? And if it but be played 
 With passing wit there's sport between the 
 lines. 
 A. Kind fortune! only yesterday I had 
 A letter from my uncle asking me 
 To spend some little time among my friends 
 Within his home. I will go bring it now — 
 How chance arranges for fond lovers' good! 
 I will go to to my uncle's. When he comes 
 You shall say I have suddenly took up 
 With this or that, as we agree, and send 
 Him on to me. Then will I put the test 
 To see if love or honest doubt were best. {Exit, 
 
A Fair Fraud, u 
 
 M. N. 'Tis hard to hide your hatred 'neath 
 a mask — 
 I hate the giddy cat! O, was there e'er 
 Stepdaughter loved by a stepmother yet? 
 
 She thinks I love her, ah! she thinks I do 
 
 Would that she had no recourse but her thoughts! 
 But yet I must not give my passion vent 
 For she hath rights in law as well as I. 
 I must be affable and wait my day, 
 Who knows? perhaps it is the morning now. 
 And so this fine young gentleman loves her 
 And she loves him. What then? Why he being 
 A promising young man I have no doubt 
 They would be happy too. What then? Why 
 
 then 
 By doubling up, to gain this fair estate 
 
 She gives me half the chance. Ah, no! not so 
 
 I'd rather my young bird were left alone. 
 Come out my scheming nature let me see 
 How on this bloom I can a cold frost be. 
 Enter Adele. 
 A. Here mother mine, a few, scant lines in 
 all. 
 But yet they mean some more than that to us. 
 M, K. Why here's a plan already made for 
 us, 
 All that we have to do is follow out 
 The lines. Unto your uncle you shall go; 
 
12 A Fair Fraud, 
 
 Here we begin. Then shall you be whate'er 
 You choose, no matter what so long as it 
 Be tedious and odd. Then will I send 
 Some information of your mental state 
 Unto your uncle. Do we not run on 
 With polished smoothness? 
 
 A, So indeed we do — 
 
 And Mr. Morisseau? 
 
 3/. /V. O, yes — (aside,) poor fool — 
 
 1 had best put his name in every word 
 Or so to please her. 
 
 A. The rest of your plan 
 
 Mother. 
 
 M. iV. 'Tis this — a moment's reflection 
 Sometimes saves the labor of a day — 
 Some few days since I read of a new, strange 
 Religious sect they call theosophists. 
 Now shall you be converted to this thing.. 
 Kead all such books and papers you may read- 
 As bear upon it. Study them as you 
 Would play a part. Think you the plan i^ 
 good? 
 
 A. O, I will play it well though he be my 
 Sole audience! 
 
 M. N. So far is settled then: 
 
 That you unto your uncle go; that you 
 Affect this new religion hath quite stirred 
 You up. So when he comes I will explain 
 
A Fair Fraud, ij 
 
 To him you have inherited some taint 
 Or humor in the blood; your father was 
 Too frenzied in religion or your elder 
 Brother was fanatic, or the like. 
 Now this is a most excellent plan indeed. 
 A. So shall the summer fly as 'twere a jokel 
 M. N. (Aside.) So shall my autumn frost 
 your hajjpiness 
 If well I play my part. Well, all is settled 
 Then. Come, dear, let no more hours slip. 
 Straightway we'll make you ready for the trip. 
 
 l£Jxeu7it. 
 Enter Harfoed. 
 H. 'Tis true if something be not slipped 
 Then someone surely will be tripped. 
 ^'I hate the giddy cat!" 'S blood! Had she 
 been a lady barber there would have been more 
 throats cut. I came not here to hear, but beincr 
 here I did not stop my ears. Silence is golden, 
 a good listener is one among many and 'tis bad 
 manners to interrupt your elders. As I am a 
 gentleman I kept still, w^hich is of tentime a very 
 hard thing to keep. Thus do we gather wis- 
 dom from those who talk too much. Now is 
 it so and so: this fair maid is my friend Moris- 
 seau's love; he loves her and she him; why 
 don't they marry then? Ah, there's the rub I 
 Because she hath somewhat of woman's pride 
 
14 A Fair Fraud, 
 
 and more of woman's doubt. Well, well. So 
 she would test his true intent and see how far 
 his love will wait upon his patience. Mean- 
 while I fear this chunk of shade she calls her 
 mother loves her not, and that my friend will 
 be too ignorantly tripped unless some one do 
 look sharp after him. 
 
 And thus they are to be deceived 
 By foe in skirts, if once believed — 
 But both their hearts must be retrieved 
 Ere fate hath either grossly grieved, 
 And from this scheme so filled with bitter hate, 
 I must protect my friend at any rate. \Exit. 
 
 Scene II. Room in the Nevell mansio7i. 
 
 Enter First Maid, singing. 
 1st M. Jack and Jill went up the hill. 
 Come, my honey, come along. 
 Jack's poor heart would not be still. 
 
 Come, my honey, come; 
 Yet his modesty forbade, 
 
 Come, my honey, come along, 
 His proposal to the maid. 
 Come, my honey, come. 
 Enter other Maids and Waiting Woman. 
 2nd M. Our young mistress has been packed 
 off to the country, Matty. 
 
 1st M. Yes, our young mistress has been 
 
A Fair Fraud, i§ 
 
 packed off to the country, for her health, they 
 say; as though she didn't have health enough 
 already. If her stepmother's legs were not 'in- 
 tended for the rogue's march my eye 's a false 
 witness. 
 
 W. W. Well, I have seen some things to 
 wonder at. 
 Some days ago, while walking down the path, 
 I came so close to madam, unobserved, 
 That I could hear her speak. Within her hand 
 She held a paper wrinkled up, and said 
 In tragic tones, like Keene upon the stage, 
 <<It was a bold, courageous act — I may 
 Be forced to do't!" Then moved she on, and 
 
 coming 
 Up I took the paper, reading how 
 A murderous uncle had made nulJ and void 
 The body of his friend to gain a good 
 Estate. 
 
 1st M. There! O, I'd rather trust a jew, 
 For murder is wiped off their business books. 
 But yet her pranks cost me no lack of sleep 
 Long as she pays my wages when she ought. 
 
 SrAi M. 'Tis a draw between a sour man 
 who pays his debts with a snarl and a sweet 
 woman who puts you off with a smile; this 
 is one of life's queer divisions. Here are we 
 surrounded with luxury not our own and are 
 
i6 A Fair Fratid. 
 
 more gay than the true possessors of it; this is 
 another. 
 
 27id M. And since she is not happy joy is 
 not 
 With valued lands and money to be got, 
 Which is another curious funny thing. 
 
 W. W. The curse of wealth is in the weight 
 of it, 
 Which never yet sat lightly on the back. 
 And like the heavy pressure on the rose, 
 Too much do crush the perfumed sweetness out 
 And spoil all nature's beauty. 
 
 2nd 31. It sounds well enough in poetry 
 but 'tis money makes the mare go. 
 
 1st M. Aye, and in these days 'tis nothing 
 but dough, dough even in the kitchen. 
 
 {Exeunt. 
 Enter Madame Nevell. 
 M. N. If he but comes then will I fill his 
 brain 
 So full of morbid melancholy as 
 A poppy's full of poison. I'm fruitful now 
 Of evil thoughts as ever Pluto was, 
 But rather than come in black terror clothed 
 I will put on the pure cloak of love 
 And charity and so beat down his guard 
 With the soft touch of sympathy. The fool! 
 Enter Servant with card. 
 
Content all day 
 To dream o'er fantasies. 
 
A Fair Fraud. ig 
 
 Go show him in. 
 
 {Servant retires. Madame Nevell takes jewels 
 from case, puts them on., admiring their effect 
 before the mirror.) 
 
 How beautiful these rare 
 Old jewels are! The gem of honesty 
 Is not worth half so much. For these I'd rob 
 My dearest friend: aye, murder even for these: 
 Dare to go down in hell as Orpheus for 
 His wife. And did my husband think his 
 
 daughter 
 Homely that he needs give her these charms 
 To hide fresh beauty's want? Would it were 
 
 so! 
 But 'tis not — for he loved her more than me. 
 If not all these sweet jewels — 
 
 (kisses them and puts them away,) 
 
 aye, and this, 
 And this, and all he would have given me 
 Nor questioned it— but I will have them yet, 
 Else shall my mind its cunning moods forget. 
 
 Enter Morisseau. 
 Most welcome, sir. Pray you be seated. You 
 Must needs accept the hospitality 
 Of age, youth being absent. 
 
 ^. Absent? 
 
 M. N. Yes, 
 
 My daughter did a sudden notion take 
 
20 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 To see her country friends some distance out 
 And straightway went. (Si(/hs.) 
 
 M. I'm sure some worthy cause 
 
 Must justify the act, madam. 
 
 M. N. 'Tis love 
 
 That prompts a mother's heart to lie. 
 
 M. I do 
 
 Not understand you quite — 
 
 M. N. You are an honest 
 
 Man, or such the world do give you credit 
 For. You're young and of ability 
 And may do good to some if you but have 
 The proper guidance. 
 
 M. I am pleased with such 
 
 A good opinion, madam. 
 
 M. N. 'Tis for this 
 
 That I — O, why does duty press so hard 
 Upon me! {Weeps.) 
 
 M. Why! how is this? I beg your pardon, 
 Madam, but as honest friend I'll be 
 Your servant too. 
 
 M. N". I pray your friendship for 
 
 My daughter has not grown so deep you may 
 Not root it out? 
 
 31. That would I not, indeed, 
 
 Nor could I if I would. You do me wrong 
 To think I would desert my honest friends 
 Because they need some service rendered them. 
 
A Fair Fraud. 21 
 
 M. N. I seek but your own happiness in 
 
 this — 
 31, And that you cannot find unless you 
 seek 
 Your daughter's too. My love for her dwells 
 
 with 
 My soul, madam, nor will I give them up 
 Nor them divide again. My presence now 
 Is but to know my good or evil fortune 
 From her lips that gave me leave to hope. 
 M. N. Duty too long delayed! How blind, 
 
 blind, blind! 
 M. I beg you speak not so in riddles, madam. 
 M. N. She left no word, no note, no any- 
 thing 
 To mark she thought of you. I fear the curse 
 That claimed so many of her kin has fallen 
 Upon her too. 
 
 M. Your words, madam, are not 
 
 As painful to me as your silence is. 
 
 31. JV. I'll so far blame you as to say you 
 are 
 As careless, sir, as other men. Were you 
 To buy a horse or lands you would be sure 
 Upon the title of it was no blot. 
 But when you deal in love you trust all things 
 Unto a pretty face. And had you known 
 My daughter's lineage it would have spared 
 
22 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 You this sharp pain my duty bids me bring. 
 For know you, sir, insanity's the taint 
 That's in the family blood. 'Twas in a mad- 
 house 
 That her sister died: her brother was 
 Fanatic, and it was the wretched cause 
 That led astray some others farthei back. 
 O, had I guessed the depth of your intentions, 
 Or the charm my daughter held upon 
 You, I would have acquainted you with this 
 Our hidden grief, when first we learned to like 
 You. But not dreaming that the blossom of 
 Your love would come to sudden fruit, I did 
 Delay nor am I blameless for it. 
 
 M. You do 
 
 Not mean this curse has fallen upon Adele? 
 
 M. N. O, not so many gross mistakes Pve 
 made 
 But that I wish this were another one — 
 It is so like her own sweet sister went. 
 'Twas but the morn of yesterday she seemed 
 As free from care and happy as a child, 
 But taking up a cursed book her eye 
 Caught on some lines upon theosophy; 
 She feasted on them as a starving man 
 Upon a juicy roast. She read them o'er 
 And o'er, saying at last that they were meant 
 For her! 
 
A Fair Fraud. 23 
 
 M. (Aside.) Religion is the common rock 
 they drift upon — 
 
 31. N. Straitway she walks the floor, 
 
 Her eyes cast down, and only after many 
 Times being questioned would she deign to 
 
 speak, 
 And only then to say "the first duty 
 Of sinners is reflection." Then a sudden 
 Notion coming to her mind she said 
 That she was called unto some quiet place 
 To meditate and needs must go at once. 
 And all entreaties of her friends and me 
 Of no avail. Being related to 
 A worthy family near Papillon 
 Our greatest efforts could but guide her there: 
 God grant the change of air may purge her 
 
 mind 
 Of every morbid fancy. 
 
 M. I say devout 
 
 Amen to that, madam. The quickest way 
 Shall take me where she is, and if a lover 
 Ever faithful was unto his love 
 So will I be to mine! 
 
 M. N". No! I pray you no! 
 
 You know full well how unmoved quietness 
 Is the essential remedy for such 
 A troubled mind. I beg you stay awhile 
 And it shall be my pleasure to advise 
 
24 A Fair Fraua. 
 
 You of her happy mending. I have all 
 
 Needful instructions sent — believe me, she 
 
 Is in good hands, 'mong those who have her 
 
 health 
 At heart, but who, being sensitive, may 
 Perhaps, resent a lover's interference. 
 
 M. If love were*not my czar. If love did 
 follow 
 Me, not lead. I am love's slave, and yet 
 I would be bound again, thrice bound. I do 
 Not fear the frown of painted fashion, madam. 
 And where affection is there will I dare 
 Maintain that others have no right more just 
 Than honest lovers have. My love is not 
 The driveling fancy of an idiot 
 That's frighted by a dream. My love shall win 
 Her back, or if that fails I will be mad 
 With her. To bask one moment 'neath her 
 
 glance 
 Although its light is never meant for me. 
 Is heaven beside hell's doubting darkness here! 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 M. N. Why! His passionate ardor quite 
 astounded me! He must not leave me so — 
 {rings bell.) For him to meet her now will 
 make my plan half failure — {enter butler,) — 
 saw you not a gentleman leave me a moment 
 since? Go! call him back — and come not back 
 
A Fair Fraud, 25 
 
 without him — {exit butler.) Such a depth of 
 love I was quite unprejoared for. He quite 
 forgot his manners in the climax of his scorn. 
 My hint was as a spark upon his powdery na- 
 ture — {re-enter butler). 
 
 But. I used my utmost haste, madame, but 
 he had gone before I reached the entrance. 
 
 M. N". Gone? And dare you come and tell 
 me he is gone! So, for thy laggard servicel — 
 {knocks him doicn.) \_Exit. 
 
 Enter Maid Seevaxts. 
 
 Serva7its — {severally)-0 — A swoon — Are you 
 dead, sir?— 'Tis a fit. 
 
 But. Aye, 'twas a god fit, and well put on, 
 too. 
 
 Ser. What took you off your legs, sir? 
 
 But. Mark you now 'twas so: 'twas broad 
 day; then suddenly came a storm and a strong 
 blow and seeing stars, I fell down in won- 
 der. 
 
 Servants — {severally) — Strange! [^Exeunt. 
 
 But. Aye, you inquisitive growth of a rib! 
 
 [Exit. 
 Scene III. A vxdk. 
 Enter Adele and Madame Nevell. 
 
 A. I am agrowing weary, mother mine, 
 Of this deception, which has not the taste 
 To suit my candid mind. I will no more 
 
26 A Fair Frmtd, 
 
 Of it. 'Tis well enough for you and me, 
 I grant, but to deceive these honest folk 
 Who never yet have given me cause for it, 
 There is the limit of my patience come 
 And I will be myself. 
 
 31. N. \yell, belt so — 
 
 Do you know more than I, nor deign to take 
 Advice from older lips, then have your way, 
 But if your path grows tortuous think not 
 'Twas for the want of warning. 
 
 A, But think you 
 
 Time has not proved the virtue of his pledge? 
 
 31. N. 'Tis little love that w ould not last a 
 week. 
 And if your lover has as little patience 
 As his sweetheart, I do fear your bark 
 Of happiness will ride a storm sea. 
 Better it is to so deceive old friends 
 So short a time, for we can make amends, 
 Than to be fair and fail into a foolish 
 Future for't. Put on your solemn mask — • 
 To prove the truth is only duty's task. 
 
 {Exit Adele. 
 Enter Mr. and Mrs. Steward. 
 
 3fr. S. Good morning, madam; 'tis a pleas- 
 ure early 
 Met. 
 
 31. N. I greet you, too, and would I were 
 
A Fair Fraud, ^7 
 
 As happy as the time, my daughter's mind 
 As free from cloud as is the rosy morn. 
 
 Mr. S. This sudden, morbid fancy of our 
 neice 
 I cannot understand. How she, so young, 
 So full of spirit, gay, till now, should grasp 
 On such a solemn subject, content all day 
 To dream o'er fantasies, is quite beyond 
 My ken. 
 
 Mrs. S. Think you there is no other cause? 
 
 M. N. If so I cannot tind it out. She seems 
 As one who thinks the welfare of the world 
 Upon her mystic meditation hangs. 
 Nothing moves her calmness save that magic 
 Word, theosophy, then will she lecture 
 You unwearied half a day. 
 
 3Ir. S. Strange 'tis 
 
 Indeed. 
 
 31. JV, At first I thought it might be some 
 Affection unrequited, love's plans foiled, 
 Or loss of dearest friendship, but not so. 
 On all such subjects she's as dumb as any 
 Close-sealed oyster, saying only that 
 Reflection is the seed of all good deeds. 
 
 3Ir. jS. Does she not in well graced society. 
 Music or other entertainment show 
 Some interest? 
 
 31. N. None — but she rather looks 
 
28 A Fair Frattd, 
 
 Upon them all as things not for the time 
 Of brooding minds divinely called. 
 
 Mr. S. To me 
 
 It is a melancholy mystery. 
 
 Mrs. S. And will you with us madam? 
 
 M. JV. Soon as I 
 
 Have grown aweary of your country morn. 
 
 [Exeunt severally. 
 ScEXE IV. A garden: Carroty at work. 
 Enter Madame Mevell. 
 
 M. N. My good gardener, I have heard 
 there is a crazy neighbor who hath habit of 
 awandering around about, is it not so? 
 
 C. It hath been my experience, madam, 
 that we need never go far to find lunatics. 
 
 M. N. An old crazy farmer who lost his 
 boy in the war; know you of such? 
 
 C. Ah!' 'twas a case of too much love, man 
 for man. 'Tis as scarce as wild flowers in 
 winter. 
 
 M. N. Well, so it is. Where is his daily 
 walk? 
 
 C. On the earth, madam. But if you wish 
 explicit direction 'tis through the entry, o' the 
 north side of the road; and he travels from east 
 to west one way, and if he comes back o' the 
 same path from west to east when he returns. 
 
 M. N. He goes forth so every day? 
 
A Fair Fraud, 2g 
 
 C. Ten o'clock i' the morn, as sure as an 
 idiot hath no wit. 
 
 M. N. I thank you. [Exit. 
 
 (7. 'Tis easy said. 
 
 Enter Harford. 
 
 n. How far is it old gardener to Papillon? 
 
 C. Well, do you go forward like a man 'tis 
 but a few whiffs, but if, like a crab, you go 
 backwards they do say i' the books 'tis some 
 twenty- five thousand miles. 'Tis a free coun- 
 try, sir, and you may go which way you choose. 
 
 H. You have some wit, it seems. 
 
 C . Seems, sir, is of no value. He who 
 knows something may be excused for forc- 
 ing it upon the public. We thank no man to 
 go about mouthing his doubts. And again, if 
 we be given seventy years of strength and 
 spend part in some worthless exercise of the 
 jaw we shall not live our given time. 
 
 H. I fear, friend, the light of your wisdom 
 hath affected your head. 
 
 C. 'Twould be a compliment to a philoso- 
 pher, sir, but a gardener's wisdom should be in 
 his hands, and a dancer's in his legs, so every 
 limb is the head of some life and keeps the 
 body clothed. 
 
 H. I swear I like thee well! Come now we 
 will agree: I do not like the shady substance 
 
30 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 that left you a moment since. 
 
 C. Aye, we'll agree on that. 
 
 H. Now, why did she so desire the particu- 
 lars of this unfortunate man's habit? 
 
 C. The words are yours but I am equal 
 owner of the thought. 
 
 H. This grows a more and more entangled 
 knot: 
 Keep, gardener, the mystery and doubt, 
 I go to build a plan to find it out. \Exit. 
 
 C. If there were one fool he'd be accounted 
 wise, but being many 'tis a common thing — Hi! 
 there, keep off the grass! you web-footed, me- 
 andering ducks — can't you put both o' your 
 feet in a five-foot path a' once? (Enter maid 
 servants.) One may dig and trim and trim 
 and dig and sweat to overcome the defects of 
 nature and have the work of his genius de- 
 spoiled by a cook. 
 
 1st S. Terum, terum, terum, Carroty. 
 What's the trouble with the crazy young lady, 
 Carroty? 
 
 C. They do say she's affected with lunacy. 
 
 2nd S, We're not deaf to rumors. 
 
 1st jS, But the cause. Carroty, the cause? 
 
 C. She was troubled too much wi' her 
 friends. 
 
 Srd S. We know. We have the advantage 
 
A Fair Frmcd, 31 
 
 of you, Carroty. 
 
 C. Ah! woman hath one advantage over 
 man, she can wipe her nose in her skirts. 
 
 l8t jS. Our wisdom goes beyond you in 
 this, Carroty; the cause of the young lady's 
 lunacy is religion, sir. 
 
 C. She could stumble upon no better thing, 
 I warrant. 
 
 2nd S. And the young gentleman who is 
 in love with her is nigh mad too. 
 
 C 'Tis the best thing he could do to be 
 nigh her if his mind be affected wi' the same 
 matter. 
 
 1st >S. Come, good Carroty, may we have 
 some of your roses? 
 
 C. No! no, no, no — thou dost treat me so 
 shabbily thou shalt have none of my flowers 
 unless thou dost bring a filled out order signed 
 in my master's blood. 
 
 1st jS. Come, Carroty, we have been so 
 thievish as to steal a bottle of wine for thee; 
 'tis waiting in the kitchen, come along now. 
 
 3rd S. Come along Carroty. 
 
 C. No! no, no, no — I must needs finish my 
 bed- 
 is^ /S. Thy bed! The grave-digger shall 
 finish thy bed for thee in good time. Come 
 along, (one puts a rose in his lapel,) — now thou 
 
32 A Fair Fraud, 
 
 art a i^roper ladies' man, go along — 
 
 C. Yes, yes! Ye need not so much pull 
 and push 
 Both fore and aft — I will both come and go, 
 Can I but please these boisterous maidens so. 
 
 \Exeunt, 
 
 ACT II. 
 Scene I. A garden: Carroty adeep. 
 Enter Adele, cautiously . 
 ■ A. Oh I I am so pent up with gaiety 
 That I could kick the moon! 'Tis well enough 
 To play a part if you but have companions. 
 But such a solitary mummy as I — 
 O, I must ope my woman's heart somewhere. 
 Now here's a case where virtue dwelleth under 
 A red wig, Carroty's honest, for 
 The world has proved him such. He is an old 
 Man of some wit, and if he but o'erlook 
 Deception we shall go on swimmingly: 
 
 {loakes him up,) 
 I am going to make a confidant of you. 
 Friend Carroty. 
 G. Ah! 
 
 A. I am going to make 
 
 A confidant of you. 
 
 C. I never have 
 
 Been false to any of your kindred, miss. 
 
Carroty in Youth. 
 Only authentic photograph extant. 
 
A Fair Fraud, s§ 
 
 A. Indeed, you've been an honest servant, 
 sir, 
 My uncle do attest to it, and while 
 He lives your virtue will not drive you begging. 
 
 C. I have two desires, miss: that I 
 May die before him, and that my old hands 
 May rot where they wrought. 
 
 A. Tut, tut; let others 
 
 Arrange our funerals: but come we to 
 My confidence. This must needs be a dark 
 Secret, and I fear your illumined locks 
 Will give us too much light. 
 
 C. Faith, miss, as I'm 
 
 A christian I will break the law and hide 
 It 'neath my bushel. [Puts on his hat.) 
 
 A. A good answer to 
 
 A gay jest. 
 
 C. Aye — there are some honest wits. 
 
 A. And flattery is, sometimes sweet though 
 'tis 
 Our own physic. Now what I tell to thee 
 In confidence no one must know, not even 
 My uncle. 
 
 G . [Aside.) She is a queer idiot. 
 Miss, on this subject I am deaf and dumb 
 And blind, and if you wish, rheumatic too. 
 
 A. 'Tis this — I am in love. 
 
 O. [Aside.) Ah! a sure sign. 
 
S6 A Fair Fraud, 
 
 A. Did I so much surprise you that you've 
 lost 
 Your ready tongue? 
 
 C. It was a thunderbolt, 
 
 Miss, from a clear sky. 
 
 A. Then am I old 
 
 Or homely that you think fair cupid would 
 So stear his course far off? 
 
 C. Ah, no! 'Twas that 
 
 Fair cupid had so long delayed his wing. 
 
 A, And have you seen a worthy gentleman 
 Of princely mien, well dressed in gray, around 
 About of late? 
 
 (J. Now let me see — me see — 
 
 Why I have seen a man in gray, but I 
 Would only notice him from others for 
 His coat. 
 
 A. I will agree he was so dressed. 
 But as for being like all other men 
 It is not so; I'll quarrel, sir, on thati 
 
 C. I will amend, I will amend! He was, 
 Now I bethink myself, compound of many 
 Men: Beau Brummel for attire, but 
 King Solomon for sageness; Horatius 
 For courage and Apollo in his bearing. 
 He, too, was dressed in gray: perhaps 'twas he. 
 
 A. Well, that do please me better if it is 
 A lie. 'Tis him I love, and so to try 
 
A Fair Fraud. j; 
 
 The temper of his vowed affectioD, I 
 
 Have put on this strange, tedious habit, which 
 
 My uncle thinks is true insanity. 
 
 Is it not a good test? 
 
 C. Aye I If a man 
 
 Stick to a lunatic he will not tiee 
 From any married state. 
 
 A. Now I must needs 
 
 Keep up my exercise, good Carroty. 
 Ask me but any question and observe 
 How I display this melancholy masque. 
 
 C. Faith, is the old moon red? 
 {jiside^) Now am I mixt— 
 Was she crazy before, or is she now? 
 How old was Caesar when he crossed the stream? 
 
 A. "And afterwards they returned to Urish- 
 "lem from the mount which is called the place 
 *'of Olives, which is over against Urishlem, 
 "and distant from her as seven stadias. And 
 ''after they had entered, they ascended to that 
 "upper room in which w^ere Petros, and Juhan- 
 ''on, and Jakub, and Andros, and Philipos, 
 ''and Thoma, and Mathi, and Bar Tolmai, and 
 "Jakub bar Halphai, and Shemun the Zealous, 
 "and Jihuda bar Jakub." Oh! — teium, terum, 
 terum, terum. 
 
 C. "Terum, terum, terum" is good latin, 
 Miss, or I'm no scholar else. 
 
jS A Fair Fraud. 
 
 A. 'Tis the same 
 
 Thing, Carroty, some grating discord to 
 The foreign ear. Aye, it is better, too, 
 For meaning nothing in the beginning 
 It save us much trouble to find it out — 
 It is a great world. 
 
 C. True, but not so large 
 
 As a millionaire's dream. 
 
 A. Why, then, how large 
 
 Is that? 
 
 C. Faith, they do wish to wear the stars 
 Upon their bosoms, miss. 
 
 A. ' Well let them dream, 
 
 For in their waking hours they get no further 
 Than the chain and balls of business — 
 But play I well the part? 
 
 C. Well, passing well — 
 
 You cannot do it better till you're old. 
 And glassed, and wrinkled, and do have a sour 
 Nature; for how can we cease to smile 
 As long as love do fill the eyes and sit 
 Upon the cheek? 
 
 A. If every note of failure 
 
 Were so clothed in compliment who would 
 Hope for success? But mind you not one w^ord 
 Of this unto my uncle. If you do 
 But wink to him where I may see you do't, 
 I will forswear companions of your sex, 
 
A Fair Fraud. jg 
 
 I swear't by all the oaths known i' the books! 
 I am so full of roguery that I 
 Will kiss thee if thou wilt go shave thy face 
 So I can find thee out. 
 
 C. These old cheeks, miss, 
 
 Are more used to the rough winds of heaven 
 Than the perfumed breath of beauty. Thou 
 Mayst use me for receptacle to put 
 Dark secrets in, but no, I .warrant thee, 
 Thou shalt not feed upon my whiskers, no. 
 
 A, Sweet are the compliments of honest age. 
 A step — his step! I've learned to know his 
 step — 
 
 Enter Moeisseau. 
 
 M. I beg your pardon, but I cannot keep 
 
 Away. Still wHth your thumbed, w^ell studied 
 
 book. 
 Come teach me, too, your madness, will you 
 
 not? 
 O, sweetheart, speak to me again in words 
 That drifted dow^n like Orpheus' waking*notes. 
 A. I, to, was vain like this — list you to this: 
 ''All the perceptive activities of the astral 
 "body of our astral race have been united un- 
 ''der the name of the sixth sense; these are 
 "clairvoyance, clairaudience, psychometry, the 
 "faculty of distinguishing spiritual atoms and 
 
40 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 "of discerning spiritual savors. In this frame- 
 "work can be grouped all phenomena of tele- 
 apathy which are actually studied by psycho- 
 "physiologists, those due to exteriorisation of 
 "the sensibility and to other little known phys- 
 "ical agents, such as light." 
 
 M. My love, I pray you not so tax your 
 mind. 
 
 A. "Here is, in any case, a trial synthetic 
 "classification of the astral phenomena which 
 "may present themselves to us: Demons, Dev- 
 "ils, Satan, Lucifer, Magic Activities, Genii, 
 "Angels." Ah, what beauty's here! 
 
 M. Would I could see it too. 
 
 O, love — nor think me bold to call you so, 
 If pity be akin to love then pity 
 Me, and let some drops of charity 
 And kindness fall upon my stricken heart. 
 
 A. "The silver star now twinkles out the 
 "news to the night blossoms. The streamlet 
 "to the pebbles ripple out the tale; dark ocean 
 "waves will roar it to the rocks surf-bound; 
 "scent-laden breezes sing it to the vales, and 
 "stately pines mysteriously whisper, 'A Mas- 
 " 'ter has arisen, a Master of the Day.' He 
 "standeth now like a white pillar to the west, 
 "upon whose face the rising sun of Thought 
 "Eternal poureth forth its first most glorious 
 
A Fair Fraud, 41 
 
 "waves. **Behold the mellow light that floods 
 "the Eastern sky. In songs of praise both 
 "heaven and earth unite. Hark, from the deep 
 "unfathomable vortex of that golden light in 
 "which the victor bathes, all Nature's word- 
 "less voice in thousand tones ariseth to pro- 
 "claim: A pilgrim hath returned back 'from 
 "'the other shore.' Peace to all beings! 
 "Peace!" \Exit. 
 
 Scene II. A road. Laughter. 
 Enter Gypsies, some with musical instruments. 
 1st Maiden. Ha, ha! 'Twas a good joke- 
 So we'll be gay 
 To speed away 
 A tedious day. 
 1st Man. No camp in sight — 
 
 'Twill soon be night. 
 1st Maid. So you are right. 
 2nd Maid. 'Tis a long march hath no halt. 
 1st Maid. We are some distance ahead of 
 the queen — 
 
 Come now a song 
 To cheer along 
 This wandering throng 
 of gypsies. 
 (gypsies— {severally)— YLi, Hi!— Well said- 
 Come strike some music there! 
 
42 
 
 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 GYPSY SONG. 
 
 .A.vTo^sc 
 
 Fond memory, come again, 
 
 Bear our souls away, 
 Fond memory, come again 
 
 To these homes of clay; 
 Fond memory, come, we pray, 
 
 Where the wanderers roam, 
 On your downy wings away 
 
 Bear us back at home! 
 
 Chorus: A gipsy band in foreign land, {dance) 
 Wandering, awandering. 
 Homeless, friendless, journey endless, 
 Wandering, awandering. 
 
 Fond memory, all the years 
 
 Brush for us away. 
 Make all the frosty meers 
 
 Ripple with the May; 
 And the charm of Oberon 
 
 Put upon the lid. 
 Wake us where our hearts are gone, 
 
 Where our loves are hid! 
 Chorus: 
 
A Fair Fraud, 43 
 
 Wanderers there are but none 
 
 Who forget the time, 
 When the web of life they spun 
 
 O'er the growing thyme — 
 Fond memory, pray redeem 
 
 Days that passed us then, 
 Let the dream of childhood seem 
 
 Real once again! 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 Sometime will hearts grow young 
 
 And wan cheeks grow red, 
 And love, with charms unsung, 
 
 Spring from ruins spread; 
 Fond memory, till that day, 
 
 Come where wanderers roam, 
 On your downy wings away 
 
 Bear us back at home! 
 
 Chorus: 
 
 Enter Gypsy Queen. 
 G, Q, Go on, ye vagabonds. 
 
 And make your footsteps light, 
 We must seek out some sparkling pond, 
 And camp before 'tis night. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. A wood. 
 Enter Harford and Carroty, 
 H. Come, Carroty, we'll hide behind the 
 tree. 
 And soon enough we'll see what we shall see. 
 {They conceal thenu 
 
44 ^ P^i^ Fraud. 
 
 Btuter Madame Nevell axd.Morisseatj. 
 
 3f. N'. I fear, sir, that the atmosphere will 
 not 
 So benefit her as we fondly hoped. 
 
 31. It seems not in the air to cure a mind 
 So sadly overthrown. 
 
 31. N". So do our last 
 
 Hopes crumble one by one — O! — 
 
 M. What affrights 
 
 You, madam? 
 
 {JEnter Lunatic, unshaven, in threadbare 
 gray, one leg of trousers in top of boot, carry- 
 ing red handkerchief. He mumbles to himself) 
 lohirls his handkerchief about and every feio 
 m,oments throws his left hand up before his 
 face as though to guard himself. Runs and 
 walks alternately ; goes across back of stage 
 and out.) 
 
 31. N. Her brother! 
 
 31. Brother? 
 
 3f. N. Saw you 
 
 Not him? 
 
 3f. I saw but an eccentric man 
 Pass down across the path. 
 
 31. N. Alas! 'twas he — 
 
 M. Her brother? 
 
 3f. iV. My misfortune needs must plague 
 Me. Knew you not 'twas hereabouts he led 
 His wandering life? Hist! comes he now this 
 way— 
 
A Fair Fraud. ^5 
 
 Ah! so it i» the mind doth make the body 
 Poor as well as rich. 
 
 Enter Lunatic. 
 L. Ah! My, but there'll be a war— ha, ha! 
 Say, don't you think there'll be a war? The 
 prince of Europe is a mason, and England and 
 Russia and Abyssinia entered into a conspiracy 
 against us, and they are buying the mountains 
 and putting forts on them— yes, 'tis true, true, 
 true! And when they get them built they will 
 defy the government— defy! defy! defy!— and 
 make all free men slaves again. Then will we 
 be called to victory, and the souls of the dead 
 soldiers will return and fight against the prince 
 of Europe, and he will be overthrown and 
 drowned with all his army in the red sea— ha, 
 ha! They can't whip us, can they? My, but 
 there'll be a war!— I know, I know, I know! 
 
 {Exit. 
 M. N. O, why should I be cursed with so 
 much sorrow 
 As do fill up my too long life. 
 
 ^- I marvel 
 
 Much, madam, that one whose reason was 
 Deranged o'er thoughts of peace and heaven 
 
 should so 
 Run ever on on war and evil deeds. 
 
 M. N. 'Tis but his changing mood; tomor- 
 row it 
 
46 A Fair Frmtd. 
 
 Will be upou the death of some old friend, 
 Next day the wrath of heaven, and next upon 
 A blighted love that never did exist, 
 And so and so as doth the madness take him. 
 O, heart of mine, to sorrow for a kin 
 Whose too much virtue is their only sin. 
 
 [^Exeunt. 
 Enter Careoty and Harford. 
 
 H. Well, old sunshine, what see you in 
 such serious case to laugh at? If you must 
 hold your sides at least let loose your tongue 
 and give your wind some shape. Did you 
 discover aught? 
 
 C. 'Tis an old plot in a new dress. Faith, 
 and she would have our worthy young friend 
 believe the crazy old neighbor is brother to his 
 love; there's humor in that. Believe you in 
 the resurrection? 
 
 n. Aye, if it be true. 
 
 C. If it be true this old schemer is the risen 
 shade of Ananias masquerading in petticoats — 
 but she shall run into the hangman's noose do 
 she keep following her nose. 
 
 n. 'Tis a long lane hath no turn. Carroty. 
 
 C. And a virtuous man that hath no "pull," 
 but the Lord must needs let satan have some 
 servants if He would have him govern his own. 
 
 H. Hist I the old shade returns. Go vou 
 
A Fair Fraud. ^7 
 
 forward, Carroty, I'll overtake your steps. 
 
 \Exit Carroty. 
 Enter Madame Nevell. 
 M. N. Ah! 'tis a pleasure, sir, unwarranted. 
 H. And why not say it is unwelcome, too. 
 M. N. You spare my tongue so much of 
 exercise. 
 
 ff. It serves me better do I keep your 
 thoughts 
 Busy. What is the latest trick, my good 
 Madam? 
 
 31. N. Why this: a fool in black would find 
 Out how I deal the cards, and so do have 
 His trouble for reward. This is, perchance, 
 Some news to you who have been juggling with 
 Wisdom and ignorance so much you know 
 Not 'tis the later you possess. 
 
 B. So is 
 
 A learned man a poor detective, madam, 
 And my little knowledge you do wish 
 Were yet some little less. This devotion 
 Unto your ward hath brought you from your 
 
 way, 
 For which we humbly thank your lovely nature. 
 If you will tell me some few details of 
 Your future plans it will save me the work 
 To find them out. How came you here, madam? 
 
 M. AT. O, I am one of those sweet characters 
 
48 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 You read of in the books, aud fly where e'er 
 I list. 
 
 H. So have I heard the spirits of 
 The nether sphere had wings but never thought 
 'Twas true. 
 
 M. N. Sir! 
 
 H. Aye, stir thy anger up somewhat, 
 
 There's no love lost betw^een us. Come, you are 
 Unequal matched, madam. 1 know your studied 
 Game. Why do you so persist in evil 
 While you still have chance to live undreamed 
 Of wrong? 
 
 M. N. I'll take the blame may come. 
 
 H. But not 
 
 The sorrow, madam. 
 
 31. N. As to that I will 
 
 So far be honest as to ask where does 
 Your interest center, sir? 
 
 H. Why, then, there are 
 
 Some several points I will enumerate: 
 First, being my friend's friend I wuU be-friend 
 Him; and second and third, I know you seek 
 The evil of tw^o lives, and so how can 
 A man better employ his idleness 
 Than to defend the truth? 
 
 M. N. O, virtuous! 
 
 But better men have stumbled in their paths. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
A man of adventure and 
 Acquainted with the world. 
 
A Fair Fraud, 51 
 
 Noise. Enter Carroty icith Foresters. 
 
 C. A queer tale these honest wood-choppers 
 are mouthing, sir. 
 
 1st F. Aye, sir; it be down i' the woods, 
 sir. One dressed in gray, of good appearance, 
 too — 
 
 C. Your friend, sir, who's in love, 'tis he. 
 
 27id F. He seemed not to want, I warrant 
 that. 
 
 3rd F. We will agree on that. 
 
 1st F. Being neat dressed, and a stranger, 
 we saw fit to look after him, sir; a good thing, 
 a passing good thing, as it proved i' the sequel. 
 
 Foresters. Aye, aye! 
 
 1st F. He saw us not, sir, as he passed in 
 downcast, ugly mood, as if he was, perchance, 
 upon some bad resolve. When but some dis- 
 tance from us he did stop; 'twas but some feet, 
 eh, friend? 
 
 2nd F. Some fifty feet or so I think it was. 
 
 3rd F. More — 'twas sixty feet at least. 
 
 1st F. Not so; 'twas scarce two score, or I 
 know not the length of my ax handle. 
 
 27id F. 'Twas fifty feet! I do know a yard 
 i' my eye better than a tailor by 's stick. 
 
 1st F. We will agree if thou w41t make al- 
 lowance for thy squint, thou — 
 
 H. Tut, tut — I care not if it was sixty or 
 
§2 A Fair Frmtd. 
 
 six thousand feet; come to a point with all your 
 words. What happened then? 
 
 l8t F. Then, sir, suddenly drawing a revol- 
 ver from his coat, tight did he close his teeth 
 and put it to his head. 
 
 H. Well, fool, go on! 
 
 Ist F. There he would ha' caused desti'uc- 
 tion to his flesh had I not — 
 
 Uth F. 'Twas as much I, I warrant. 
 
 3rd F. Myself beheld the murderous action 
 first, when I made rush to knock away his hand. 
 
 H. [Aside.) O, these prating fools! Pray 
 you be still and let this man proceed. 
 
 1st F. It was like this: taking his revolver, 
 so, he shut his mouth hard, so, and placed it 
 against his head, so. 
 
 C. {Aside.) Strange how he could place his 
 mouth against his head, so. 
 
 1st F. Then did we grab him, sir, and took 
 his weapon from him 'gainst his will, and were 
 besting what to do when he, the gardener, 
 came up, and said we must so tell this thing to 
 you. Here is the weapon, sir. There being 
 seven balls, we took one each, so none can use 
 it now unless he takes the stock to beat his 
 silly brains out. 'Tis of no use to us, being 
 honest men — 'tis yours to keep. 
 
 H. I thank you for the compliment. 
 
A Fair Fraud. ss 
 
 Foresters — (sez;era//y)— Welcome, indeed, sir 
 — We ask no pay, sir — 'Tis yours, sir. 
 
 H. Where went he when you gave him 
 leave to walk? 
 
 1st F. Yes, true enough. Then did he say 
 that death 
 Was better than a life without the light 
 Of love. I think, sir, he is love- sick, sir. 
 Do you have influence you had best see 
 Him married to some maid or else he will 
 Go mad, I warrant you. 
 
 2nd F. One who would die 
 
 For love would murder, sir, for jealousy, 
 And so his bride had best be chary of 
 Her smiles. 
 
 1st F. To finish, sir, we so disarmed 
 Him as I have made known, and let him go 
 His way, then found we you and so the tale 
 Is told. 
 
 H. Good men, 1 thank you for an act 
 Of kindness. Carroty, come we to find 
 This morbid man of melancholy mind. 
 
 [^Exeunt. 
 
 ACT in. 
 
 Scene I. A wood. Gypsy camp in background. 
 Enter Harford and Morisseau. 
 M. Come, friend, now am I blue. Can you 
 not crack 
 A joke? 
 
54 ^ Fair Fraud. 
 
 H, The heavens are blue but the earth 
 Is green, and you, being of the earth, earthy, 
 Must needs be green; but soon enough the au- 
 tumn 
 Of experience will color your 
 Life differently, else I am no sage. 
 
 M. If I live long enough. 
 
 H. And there was once 
 
 A sparrow built her nest in a rainbow. 
 
 M. Come, come; season your humor with 
 some little 
 Sense. 
 
 H. It is as possible as man 
 To build his happiness upon a woman. 
 
 M. I will not gainsay that; we are not happy 
 With them and unhappy still without them, 
 So in our little, troubled realm we're walled. 
 
 H. Very true, too true. As long as all 
 paths lead 
 Unto the cemetery there'll be tears. 
 And since the thorny path of love you choose 
 To tread, I'll help you gather this fair rose 
 You call the sweet Adele. You say there is 
 Taint of insanity within the blood: 
 That you have seen her brother, lunatic, 
 That I say 's but a crazy neighbor who 
 Has lost his boy in the war: that her sister 
 Died fanatic, that it is the cause 
 Of her bewitching stepmother's sadness. 
 
A Fair Fraud. S5 
 
 And that you cannot doubt your open gaze, 
 But that you will more readily believe 
 My argument avowing it to be 
 A trumped up lie, if I but show you proof. 
 M. It is a friend of friends that sticks when 
 
 doubted. 
 H. A better one who shows us our mistakes. 
 See you those gypsies there? Good fortune 
 
 brought 
 This strolling band so near us, nor have we 
 So stumbled upon them by accident — 
 I have for purpose brought you here, and have 
 Arranged with Carroty, the gardener, 
 To bring you-r love, the fair Adele, hither, 
 That she may be some little entertained, 
 To break the country's dull monotony. 
 They will be here even now. Come we and step 
 Behind this mask of shrubbery, and I 
 Will show you that your sweetheart's lunacy 
 Goes not beyond her uncle's outer gate. 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 Enter Carroty and Adele. 
 C . This is a rough log, miss, but 'tis the 
 best 
 Chair in the tangled parlor of the woods. 
 
 A. And good enough — it were no better 
 wood 
 When sawed, planed and artistically carved. 
 Go see if you can come to terms with them. 
 
§6 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 {Carroty brings Gypsy Queen forward.) 
 
 C. Here is a good lady who, being city 
 Born and bred, grows weary of the country's 
 'Customed dullness, and will pay thee well 
 For entertainment of a half an hour. 
 
 A. Yes, better than many a worthy troupe 
 Is paid. Can any of you sing? — and dance? 
 
 G. Q. Our stomachs would be often empty 
 else. 
 
 A. Here's money in advance; can you but do 
 Some few good acts there's more of it to come. 
 Come, Carroty, sit you upon this tree, 
 And if the play be good applaud with me. 
 {Gypsies sing, etc.) 
 
 C. Was that well done, according to the 
 code? 
 
 A. I could not do it half so well myself, 
 Yet would I rather hear my lover woo 
 Than list the sweetest nightingale of song. 
 {Gypsies dance, etc.) 
 
 C. O, that was a good step, miss. 
 
 A, I could kick 
 
 Higher, I vow, but not in so good time. 
 Come, old queen of the woods, if you but tell 
 Our fortunes now you may wish us God -speed. 
 Will I grow old and wrinkled like the rest? 
 
 G. Q. Aye, miss, all in good time; you 
 shall be happy 
 First. 
 
A Fair Fraud, ^^j 
 
 A. Why that's well said. 
 G, Q, You are an actress, 
 
 And do play your part well, but not to 
 Your lover's satisfaction, whom you would 
 The rather please than all the others, miss. 
 A, Well, that's true, too. 
 (jr. Q. And you are blest with much 
 
 Of this worlds chattels, but an honest husband 
 Is dame fortune's happiest gift — as I 
 Do love all youth I would advise you take 
 It while you may. I am an honest reader 
 Of the lines and tell you all the truth. 
 
 A. Tis true enough and so it is enough. 
 Now Carroty, your life being some more spent, 
 Your future will not cost so much to read. 
 C. No! — no, no, no. I am too much re(a)d 
 
 now. 
 A. Here's gold, old queen, to keep you on 
 
 the way. 
 G. Q. God bless you, miss. 
 A. What pranks we play 
 
 To chase the tedious dullness from a day. 
 
 [Mxeu7it Carroty and Adele. 
 Enter Harford and Mobisseau. 
 H. Now do you have misfortune on the hip; 
 Trust me a little longer we will throw 
 It off completely. Two o'clock tomorrow 
 Meet me where the paths cross over in yonder 
 Woodland see you do no fail the time 
 
SS A Fair Frmid, 
 
 Or j^lace, and I will make all things as plain 
 As any good old fashioned methodist. \JExexint. 
 Scene II. Another part of the wood. 
 Enter Hakfoed, then Adele. 
 
 A. I have seen an old church look gray in 
 the morning mist — 
 
 H. Ah! I've seen a maiden worthy to be 
 kissed. Lay off your foolishness, my fair fraud. 
 I know you do but play a part. 
 
 A. Sirl 
 
 H. I know full well your tedious game to 
 test a lover's heart, and more than that, I know 
 your scheming stepmother plays for stakes you 
 do not thank her for. 
 
 A. How dare you slander, coward- like, in 
 presence of a lady, sir! 
 
 H. Why, how is this? Where is your luna- 
 cy? — ha, ha! You do but show a woman's reas- 
 onable anger, I warrant you. Don't be a fool. 
 It is your own unwary scheme that has 
 So nearly cost the life of him you love. 
 There are some foolish lovers who care not 
 For truth, and there are those whose earnestness 
 No plummet ever sounded: he is such. 
 
 A. And if he pays according to the merits 
 Of your speech you need not starve or beg. 
 
 H. I have o'er looked the doubtings of a 
 friend 
 For friendship's sake, and the sarcasm of 
 
A Fair Fraud, 59 
 
 Acquaintances I do not deign to note. 
 I say your sweet stepmother has not put 
 You on in pleasant innocence alone, 
 But seeks to keep you and your love apart 
 That she the more may easily be rid 
 Of you when comes the time. O, do not start, 
 For wealth hath charms have tempted women to 
 Worse things than that. And would you see 
 the proof? 
 
 A. I am not ^blind or deaf, nor do I wish 
 To be. 
 
 H. Then do you but conceal yourself 
 Some time behind those shrubs, you shall both 
 
 see 
 And hear; trust me as far as this — it comes 
 Of good intent. 
 
 A. O, I will humor you, 
 
 For I do think you are more mad than I. 
 
 {^Conceals herself.) 
 Enter Moeisseau. 
 
 H. How is it, friend, have you grown gay 
 again. 
 That you do smile today? 
 
 M. Ah! you have rolled 
 
 Away some gathered clouds and life begins 
 To wear a rosy hue again. 'Tis said 
 The ignorant do laugh and wise men smile, 
 But little difference doth it make as long 
 As we be tickled. I have had a dream, 
 
6o A Fair Fraud, 
 
 Perchance a most improbable and misty 
 Dream; I dreamed that all you late have told 
 To me were true! And yet, I will not hold 
 You to my dream, good friend, but if — as I 
 Begin to fondly hope — 'tis true, thou shalt 
 Confiscate my estate. 
 
 If. I would not have 
 
 Thy care-fraught property, for one must either 
 Hold or squander it — I rather would 
 Be free. But to the point — the time's affair: 
 By happy combination I've contrived 
 To have our wingless flatterer to meet 
 Me in these woods. Multum i7i parvo, sir, 
 My plan is this: You do conceal yourself, 
 And where you can both see and hear you shall 
 Have plot and story of this perfidy 
 
 Straight from the author's lips. Now vanish — 
 
 sink 
 Into the leaves, and if I fail then use 
 Me ever for sarcastic ridicule. 
 
 {Morisseau conceals himself.) 
 H. If life's a dream, I swear that love's a 
 nightmare, and drives the sleep from many a 
 drowsy lid. Sweet time of softness! Soft 
 breezes, soft moonlight, soft whisperings, eoft 
 hearts, soft everything. Now do our maid of 
 Athens keep her word. [Takes a mirror from 
 his pocket and arranges his tie, etc. Madame 
 Nevell enters and attempts to stab him. He sees 
 
A Fair Fraud. 6i 
 
 her reflection in the mirror and catches her arm 
 as it descends.) 
 
 H. So have I found my favor in a glass — 
 
 Je voiis remercie, madame. 
 
 M. N. Sir, you sent 
 
 For me. 
 
 H. But asked you not to make your entrance 
 In such murderous manner. 
 
 M. N. Why is it 
 
 That you do seek to thwart my every plan? 
 
 H. My knowledge is my own, but many a 
 friendly 
 Action has been bought, madam. 
 
 M. N. (Aside.) Why! can 
 
 He mean that I may stop his mouth with money? 
 You are a man of adventure and acquainted 
 with the world, and know the worth of money 
 in any market. 
 
 If. I have shared a crust with a comrade 
 and would not be above dividing a fortune with 
 an enemy. 
 
 31. N. Well said; I do begin to think you're 
 not the moral fool I thought. If you but lend 
 assistance to my plans I'll pay you well. 
 
 H. The consideration is the essential part 
 of an agreement, madam, (She lohispers.) 'Tis 
 not enough. 
 
 3L iV. Then will I double it; is it agreed? 
 
 m. I have done some things for less money, 
 madam. 
 
62 A Fair Fraud. 
 
 M. N. My husband made me sharer of his 
 wealth 
 Conjointly with this girl. I will be honest, 
 rd have it all myself, and two ways open 
 To it: either put this girl aside 
 Myself or have the law to do't, which latter 
 Is too tedious for my patience. I 
 Had but laid out my plans when blank misfortune 
 Needs must lay her hand upon 't and have 
 Her fall in love. Now must you aid to keep 
 These two apart. You being friend to him 
 Shall so poison his mind as leave no lingering 
 Ray of hope. So, severing their offection, 
 We will soon be rid of him I 
 
 H. And then? 
 
 M. N. And then? Come stir your wits. 
 Why then what is 
 More easy than defraud a friendless girl? 
 You hesitate? See you this gold? 'Tis but 
 The color of the substance shall be yours 
 For every friendly act. 
 
 {Ife throics down the 'money and stamps upon it.) 
 Ahl how is this? 
 
 H. I would to God I could so stamp upon 
 The envy, heart-burnings and anger — aye, 
 And crime, this yellow fruit of hell hath been 
 The cause of. Children maimed to draw some pity 
 On the street. Virtue sold as 'twere 
 Mere dross; wives led astray, husbands to prison, 
 
A Fair Fraud. 63 
 
 Mothers, fathers, gray-grown and wrinkled ere 
 Their sun has passed high noon of honest life. 
 Gold! gold! Thou sinuous snake infesting every 
 Path of life, whose poisoned fang hath sunk 
 Into the hearts of emperors and kings — 
 Pervertorof the truth and man's most traitorous 
 Foe, I scorn thee! Thus do I sign and seal 
 Our contract, madam, and call my worthy 
 Friends to witness it. {B,nttr Adele, 3Ioris- 
 seau, Mr. and Mrs. /Steivard, Carroty^ etc.) 
 
 M. N. Betrayed! 
 
 Mr. S. No, but 
 
 Discovered, madam. 
 
 H. Go! Quick get you hence 
 
 Before we call a tardy law upon 
 You. For our leniency thank you this maid, 
 Whose honored name you do too meanly bear. 
 
 C. Avant! thou shadow of the Arctic zone, 
 With heart of ice. Avant! thou risen shade! 
 
 [Exit Madame Nevell. 
 
 A. I humbly thank you, sir. 
 
 JI. 'Tis all I ask— 
 
 And if you would repent, pray do it at 
 The shrine of love. 
 
 3fr. S. And so shall joy's eclipse 
 
 Be quick effaced by touch of lovers' lips. 
 The somber follies that the years may send, 
 May they be so resolved to happy end. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
.IBiiBli.