u n/r A TTT!. UP " BOOK— HOW TO *« MAKE-UP." A p:; actical guide for 7itli Tv^enty-three Colored Illustrations. Price 60 cents. ^ No. cocLix. iAN 14 mn PS 1499 / .385 F7 h 1897a "!CH'S STANDARD DRAMA. Copy 1 U FKOU FEOU;" A Goiaedy of Pof erM Hniiian InterRst, 3rn Hat ^tu. i ' "^ '"'' BY AUGUSTIN DALY/ ESQ, AUTHOR Olr "UxiAm Ih© Gaslight." " Flash of LlghtniDg," " Leah the Fonnken," "Qriffith Gftont," "Taraing a Butterfly," &o., &0. KtUered according to Act of Covgr^^s in the. year 1870, by AuousTiK Dai,», Esq., in tht CUrk't Office of the Districtf Court of the United i /onr tne Southern Diatriet cf New York. OOPYKIGHT, 1897, BY AUGUSTIN DaLY. NEW YORK T. H. FRENCH SctwESsoR TO Samuel French & SoM publisher 38 West 23d Street LONDON SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHEh 89 Strand , Dutaining Rouge. Pearl Powder. Whiting, Mongolian. Ruddy Rouge, Violet Po"^'; and Puff- Chrome, Blue, Burnt Cork, Pencils for the eyehds. Spirit Gum, India Ink,\ Umel Hair Brushes, Hare's Foot, Wocd. Craped Hair, Cold Cream, Joining Paste Mitt- latuv> Puffs, Scissors and Looking Glass: packed neatly in Strong Fancy Card-boar* Boxet, $4.00; Elegant Tin Cases, $5.00, THE ABOVE ARTICLES TO BE HAD SEPARATELY. FOR PRICES, SEE CATALOP FRENCH S DESCRIPTIVE LIST. SCENERY. Witt a view to obviate the great difficulty experienced by Amateurs (particularly in country houses) in obtaining Scenery, &,c., to fix in a Drawing Room, and then only by considerable outlay for hire and tcreat damage caused to walls, we have decided to keep a series of Scenes, &c., colored on strong paper, which can be joined together or pasted on canvas or wood, according to requirement. Full directions, with dia- grams showing exact size of Back Scenes, Borders, and Wings, can be had free on upplicatiou. The following four scenes consist each of thirty sheets of paper. G-ABDEN. The above is an illustration of this scene. It is kept in two sizes. The size of the back scene of the smaller one is 10 feet long and G14 feet high, and extends with the wings and border, to 15 feet long and 8 feet high. The back scene of the large one is 13 feet long and 9 feet high, and extends, with the wings and border, to 20 feet long and 11)4 feet high. It is not necessary to have the scene the height of the room, as blue paper to represent sky is usually hung at the top. Small size* with Wings and Border complete, §7.50 ; large size, do., $10.00. "WOOD. This is similar In style to the above, only a wood scene is introduced in the centre. It is kept in two sizes, as the previous scene, and blue paper can be introduced as be- fore indicated. Small size, with Wings and Borders complete, $7.50 ; large size, do., $10.00. FOLIACrE.— This is a sheet of paper on which foliage is drawn, which can be repeated and cut in any shape required. Small size, 30 in. by 20 in., 25 cts. per sheot ; large size, 40 in. by 30 in.. 35 cts. per sheet. TREE TRUNK..— This is to be u&ed with the foliage sheeta and placed at the bottom of the scene. — Price and size same as f oli^e. DRAWING- BOOM. This scene is only kept in the large size. The back scene ia 13 feet long and 9 feet high, and extends, with the wings and borders, to 20 feet long and 11>^ feet high. In the centre is a French v.'indow, leading down to the ground, which could be made practicable if required. On the left wing is a fireplace with mirror above, and on the right wing is an oil painting. The whole scene is tastefully ornamented and beauti- fully colored, forming a most elegant picture. Should a box scene be required extra wings can be had, consisting of doors each side, which could be made practicabla. Price, with Border and one set of Wings, $10.00 ; with Border and two sets of Wings, to form box scene, $12.50. COTTAG-E INTEBIOB. This is also kept in the large size only. In the centre is a door leading outside. On the left centre is a rustic .fireplace, and the right centre is a window. On the wings are painted shelves, &c., to complete the scene. A box scene can be made by purchasing extra wings, as before described, and forming doors on each side. Price, with Bonier and one set of Wings, $10.00 ; with Border and two sets of Wings, to form box scene, $12.50. The above Scenes, motiHted, can be seen at 28 West 23d St., New York. Full directions accompany each Scene, NO. CCCLIX FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA. "FROU FROU;" k Comedy of Powerful Himian Merest, BY ALTGTJSTTN DALY, ESQ., AUTIIOK OF the Gaslight," •• Flash of Lightniun/' " Leah the ForsaKen," •• OrllBlk Gaunt," "Turning a Dutterily." tc. &c. l^aLvC. Umcraa according to A.ct of Congress in tkf year 1870, by Augustin Dai.T, in Vu. Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United for the Southern District of New Yor? Copyright, 1897, by Augustin Daly. New York T. H. FRENCH SUCCESSOR TO SAMUEL FRENCH & SON ^ publisher ^ 28 West 23d Street IjONDON SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 89 STRAN^ :ir CAST OP CHARACTERS.— [Feou Feou.] As origin tUy produced ai the Fifth Avenue Theater, Tuesday, Feb. 15ih, 1870 Henri Sartorys, {TheHmhandofthe Future) Mr. George Clarke. Beigard, (-4 Papa of the Present) Mr. W . Daridge. Baeon De Cambri, {The Husband of the Future) . .Mr. James Lewis. D \ The Prompter icho believes Nature on) -.^ r^ j? r>^-v7^-.> P^^"' ] the Stage to he Abominable, \ ^^'- ^- ^- ^^^^'^^^ Vincent, Mr. George Jordan, Jr. Zanetto, {A Sunny Italian) Mr. W . Beekraan. Gilbert K, [' ' Frou Frou " ) Miss Agnes Ethel. LoursE, [Ilcr Sister ) Miss Kate Newton. Bauonne De ('ambri, {A Woman of the Future). .Mrs. G. H. Gilbert. Pauline, (.4 Maid of Vie Present) ]\Iiss Fanny Davenport. The Governess, Miss Emilie Kiehl. . Angelique, Miss Amy Ames. Georgie, \ ^^^'^"2^^' ^^'^- ^%f'''^ ^^^""- [ Miss Gerty Norwood. ' I ance on any Stage. \ '' TIME.— The Present. SCENE— Act 1st at Cbarmareites. Act 2, 3 and 5 in Paris. Act 4- - Yenice. Lapse of four years between the 1st and 2d Acts, and a few weeks between the 2d and 3d and 3d and 4th. After th« 4th Act, six months elapse. FEOU FROU. ACT I. ^ERE— Drigard's house at Charmarettes. Parlor of tlie Chateau cf on the terracs hy three arches ivhich cross the stage at back from r. 2. e. to L. 4 E. A table het^neen each arch occupied with bronzes, flowers, tic. A pedestal with a Viise of flowers, a table and a sofa on the l. Paxjline is discoverfd as the curtain rises, to merry music, arranging a bouquet in the vase at l. The noise of a tohip is heard and she turns and looJcs off R. through the arc\.:-i. > Pauline Who's coining now ? [Goes to the arches and looks off] Why, if it isn't MadcmoisiWe Gilberte and that charming M. de Valreas. What on earth can 1 3 the matter that they are galloping in that way? Ah, Monsieur might have spared his horse. Mademoiselle always comes in firt^t. Now he's assisting her to dismount. They are coming here ! [She. runs to the vase of flotvers again.] How long they are! [Ihirm.] J\lademoiselle must have gone to her room direct. [Returns to arcix c] That's certain, for here comes M. d* Valreas alone. TIow giacefully he bears defeat. Miter Valreas, r. c. looking back Valrfos Beaten again ! [Sees Pauline.] You there ! You see, Pauline, your handsome mistress and I have had another race. Pau [Laughing.'] And my handsome mistress come in ahead. Vol As usual I [Throws hat and whip on sofa^^ Yes, I acknowledge Vmi beaten, and wUit's more, Pauline, I don't regret it. £*au [Coming d&uhi * c] You don't! Why not? FROU FROU. Vol Because it's infinitely more agreeable to gallop behind than before her. She has such an adorable way of sitting a horse-and to see her-a)i, delicious little Frou Frou ! [Crosses to l. h. /'ai; What, Monsieur? You call her by that familiar name? Mademoiselle Gilberte would be very angry if she heard you call her Frou Frou. Val Why, it's her name. Fail It's her name for her father and her sister, but for you- Val lor me too ! What name could I give her, mdeed, .dore -appropriate tn.m that which seems to have been invented for the 3Sus little creature who bears it? What else is she but Frou Frou' A noisy, bustling, busy little fairy-ever rustling, rustling, like tho lc:ives stirred by a gentle wind. Frou Frou always ; Frou )i^rou, everv where ! In the h. .use a do :r opens and down the stairs tomes a rustle of skirts like a whirlwind. Frou Frou, Frou Frou I Imikrtwg rustic vfsuk.] She bounds into the room with a joyous burst ! he rnns here and there -rummages about, disarranges every thing- rouns. laughs, talus, sings, plays, jumps, and whisks away again Fn... Frou Frou Frou, always Frou Frou! And I am sure, that vdiile she sleeps, the angel that watches over her waves its rusthng wings with that dear little sound, Frou Frou ! V^ U'u^ Pm Oh indec;l ! [Loohinj of l.] Well, you'd better stop and be nroi^er for her father h just dismounting at the gate. , '^ra So I will, for I'yc something to say to h m so prodigiously serious, so prodi.giously proper, in fact, [Laughing] that I don t ^TI^^ Some'thing to say to Mademoiselle Gilbcrte's father ? Val Yes, to him, and then to her. Pauline, you are a young girl and you know what love is, don't you ? , Pm Ob I ve had an ordinary education, sir, and love is one of the '^'^U'^^t^. addition isn't it? Or is it multiplicaton? Pau Yes, sir -two and two make one. Val Well, then, you can appreciate my feelings when I tell you that I adore her-I have adored her ever since— „• , . ^, . rm Two days ago, going on three ! Here comes M. Brigard, sir . you'd better finish your declaration to him. CVosses to e. Enter Beigard with Baroness, in riding hahit, c. frcmi l. Brinard [c] Hallo, Valreas, what did you and auoerte mean D> runing off and leaving us two alone to follow you ? Cut then [Looh ing at Barone3S wUh a lojk of gallantry ] I don t complain ! B'ness [l. c] Well it would be strange it you did. T^^s on sofa and fans herself icith paper thai is lying there. Vol fu. c.l Why, it was a wager between Mademoiselle Gilberte and me as to which should get here first, and when we did, she went to her room *o dress for dinner while I waited for you. FROtJ FROn, 5 Brig And amused yourself talking to the maid about aer. KiUl> Ine, what's he been saying? Fan [r. h. corner.'] baying, sir ? [Valreas motions her to stop Brig [Sitling c] Yes, saying. Pan He called Mademoiselle Gilberte Frou Frou, and asked if shj bad a heart. Brig [Pretending seriousness.] What? Vhl I didn't say anything. Brig [To PauliiNE.] That'll do. Go to Gilberte! [Exit Paulinb, E. 1 E.] So you' v'e been trying to find out whether Gilberte has a heart, eh? [Looks at Baroness and pauses.] WeVi, I'll talk to you presently ; I must go and dress, and mind, before I come back, don't make anatomical investigations through any of the other servants. [Exits R. 1 E. Vol [Following him to the door.] Well, it's no harm, everyone has a heart. I didn't ask about her fortune or anything else that was mean. B'ness Oh, Valreas! Valreas! Val [A8S)/,ming air of gallantry.] Well, what have I done now? [Crosses to c. B'ness [Looking at him through eye-glass.] I have known you for f»ui years now, and if I were called upon to say what you are, I should be puzzled for an answer. Val [Making a gesture of surprise.] What /am ? B'ness Yes, what you are. Val [Approaching her.] I am only a poor devil who is dying of love for you. B'ness Yes, I know- -you've said that for four years and I see you are alive yet. Val For four years and no intermission for refreshments. B'ness Nonsense ! you've been here two days and, during that time you've done nothing but make love to little Gilberte. Val [Sitting beside her.] Don't you see that was ordy a little maneuver of mine ? B'ness To make me jealous? Val Yes. B'ness But how about that widow ? Fai Widow? What widow? B'ness Who is dying of love for you, who is determined to get a husband and who has followed you from Paris down to this place. Don't deny it. Iknoio. Val You know ? [Baroness nods yes.] Who told you ? B'ness Aba ! [Rises end crosses a. Val [Aside.] It's that rogue Brigard ! [Rising.] Ah, I see you won t believe in the deep ardor of my aifection. You won't. B'ness [Meeting him c] No I won't. VaJ. Decidedly? B'ness Decidedly ! Val Then I'm perfectly right in lavishing the ardor of my affee- 8 FROU FROU. tion on Brigard's little daughter. And yoa know what the oonae quences will be ? B'ness [In surprise.] The consequences ? Val Yes !— a wedding. Jfness What ? You marry ? [Valeeas nods.] You marry ? Val Certainly! Won't she make a delicious little countess? — and the day we are married, what a gay, delightful, happy, joyous wed- ding we will have — with — B'ness With music by Offenbach ? Val 'Well, why not ? And then there are typographical and geo- graphical reasons why we should marry. [Goea up to c. arch.] There on the right, is the chateau of our friend Sartorys ; at the left, yonder, mine ; and this one we are in makes a third, whicli my friend Jjiigard bought two years ago. Doesn't it strike you as odd now, as a sort of destiny, that Brigard, with his two marriageable daughters, shouli come and settle here, between two bachelors — Sartorys and myself? B'ttess It's quite delightful to hear you, I declare. [Returns to so/a. Val [c] You must acknowledge that Providence never more clearly manifested its intentions. Neither Sartorys nor I will oppose fate. First mairiage, Md'lle Louise Brigard and Mon. Henri Sartorys; music by Haydn, solemn, grand ; a union of wisdom and reason. Second marriage, Md'lle Gilberte and your humble servant ; a union of just the opposite. B'nesi How do you know, sir, that M. Sartorys loves Louise and wishes to marry her ? Val How do I know ? Why has he who never before spent a fort- night down at his chateau, now remained here — let me see — more than two months ? Why, unless he wishes to marry her, does he come here every day ? B'ness [Rising.] Well, that's something. Val [OrosrAng l.] And then he's so well suited to her. Ba's bo quiet and she's so quiet. Rness [c] But suppose that — Val [Going to her quickly.] What? Enter Baeon db Cambri, l. c , carrying a tin box, such as Botarmts collect their Jiei-bs in, on his shoulder. Wears a wide, o^ite hat. B'ness [Quietly.] Nothing. Baron Here I am, my dear. Val Ah ! good morning, Baron. What have you brought back from your early botanical excursion ? Baron Well, not much luck to-day. [To Baroness.] Here, my love, is something which I selected for you. [Offering an insignificant black flower.] Ugly, but very rare. I dug it out of a mud-bank, my darling, at the risk of my life. Bi^vi Dug it out of a mud-bank for me ? Really, you are too good I don't care to rob the muh! well it's rather bad taste to jingle yoar moiicy in fchat way at me. Briti Why, I never dreamed of such a thing, especially to you, who are richer than I. Besides, I take it all back about the duke. Val [c] And you will give me your daughter ? Brig What ! my little Frou Frou ? My little tempest ? My little darling ? Most certainly [VaJj-reas jumps towards him as Briqaed rises.] not ! Val [NetUed.] Why so, since you like me? Brtj It's precisely because I do like you, or rather on account of the reasons that I like you. You see ? You are too jolly a com- panion to be trusted as a son-in-law? Besides, there's that widow who i!>^ after you. Val Devil take the widow. For two days I have taken refuge under your roof to avoid her. Doesn't that prove there's nothing serious in that quarter ? Brig Ah ! you rogue. You can't tell me. Widows don't run about after handsome boys like you without encouragement. Val But I'm determined to have nothing to do with her, to be- come a new man. I really believe if I had some friend who would stand by me now I might become worthy of existence and not the cursed nonentity I have been. Brig {Eying him closely.'] You really wish then — Val [Grasping his hand warmly.'] Will you? Brig [Bursti :g out laughing.] Oh, anything to oblige a friend. Val What do you mean ? Brig Oh ! nothing. I'm going to drive the widow away. [Going o. Val That's right, and when you return I will address you formally with my request. Brig [Stops.] What request? Val Why, my request for your daughter, of course. Brig What! you've got back to that again, have you? Enter Louise, r. 1. e. Ab ! Louise, you've just come in time. [To Valrbas.] Now talk to her about your preposterous ideas. Louise [c] What ideas ? Brig Come, out with it. Val [r. c] Oh ! you needn't try to frighten me. Brig [Returning, takes Louise's hand.] It is perfectly well understood In this household, that in this little brain [Tapping her forehead.} dwells all the wisdom of the Brigard family ; and that all question! of serious import must be referred to Louise. Louise Well? [Seriously. Val Well, I've just asked of your father, the hand of Md'Us Gilberte in marriage. Louise The hand of Gilberte ? [Surprised and thery smiling. Voi [Seritfiislj;. ] What do you answer, Mademoiselle ? 10 FROU FROU. Louise [c.J My answer is, that if you do not make haste and dteii for dinner, the same thing will happen to-day that occurred yester- day — you will be late. Brig [l. c] There, are you satisfied? Val Very well, as no one will listen to me seriously — Louise [Crossing I..] Go and dress for dinner. Brig [Aside to Valreas.] You still authorize me to go to the widow. Vol [ With dignity.'] Certainly, sir. Brig Then I'm going. \.ExiU c. and l. Louise [7b Valreas.] Havn't you gone yet ? I shan't go until you tell me why you oppose my marrying Gilberte, Louise Well, I suppose I must, or you'll never be ready. Enter Vincent, l. c. Vincent Mon. de Sartorys. Louise rises and turns towards c. and l. as if with pleasure as Sabtoets enters 0. , and Vincent goes out. Sartorys Mademoiselle. [Bows to LouiSB. Louise Did you see ray father? Sar I've just met him. [To Valeeas.] I hope you are well, Paul f Vol [Mournfully.] Very well— that is, when I say very well— ah! my dear friend, if you only knew how they treat me in this house. Louise [To Valreas.] You'll never be ready for dinner. Val [To Louise, who looks at him, laughing.] I'm going ! I'm going I [Exits L. 1 E. , sighing. Louise [To Sartorys.] How late you are to-day ! [jffer manner must evince love for him and pleasure in his company. Sha motions to a chair ; they sit.] Sar [Seriously^ I suppose I'm late, because I left home earlier thac usual. [Louise laughs.] I'll explain. I was in such a hurry to get here that I started from the Chateau at a full gallop : but, when I got within a hundred paces of the gate, I stopped, turned my horse, and for a whole hour, walked him about the neighborhood. I came back to the gate three times and three times turned away again. The fourth time, however, I did like all cowards when they make up their minds to be brave. I plunged in head foremost and here I am a little later than usual, perhaps, but still, here I am. Louise [ Who has followed him with interest and laughingly, but now be- ginning to k/ioiv her emotioii.] What was the cause of this hesitation? Sar It is l)ecause I have decided to say something to-day that I have wished to say for the last month. That is the reason why I trembled all the way hen and why 1 still — LoMj.vc [ConfumL] If what you have to say is so very serious— Sar [E'lrneslly.] It in. I^nuise [Moved.] Perhaps you had better wait — Sar Oh no, 1 must positively go through with it to-day. Besides. before i speak I can gain courage by remembering how good yo« FKOU FROU. 11 have alwrays been to me. And then, your fathei authorized me to— Louise Oh ! if papa — Sar He did ! and more than that, he said I must first speak to you. Louise [De£p emotion.] To me ! Sar [Taking her hand.] Have you not guessed ? 1 am in love. Louise [Scarcely audible.] You love ! Sar Yes ! I love, madly, devotedly— your sister I Gilberte ! [Louise as if petrified, at first says nothing, simply raises her eyes to Sae- T0RY9, then — Louise Gilberte ! Sar Did you not suspect it ? Louise [Breathless.] No. Sar [ Withotit looking at her and as if speaking to nimself.] It seemed tc me as if everybody must have noticed it. Louise You love my sister ? Sar Yes, and that is why I appeal to that friendship which you have always shown me. Tell me, then, what you think of this avowal which I have just made ? * [Pause.] You do not answer, Louise 1 understand you perfectly. You love Gilberte and you ask me — Sar If you approve of this marriage. Louise [Crossing before him.] I approve — I approve of it. Sar [Rising.] You will be on my side then ? Louise Yes, for I know of no man more worthy, no one who could— better than you — Sar [Interrupting her and taking her hand, which she withdraws in pain.] Thank you, Louise, thank you. Louise [Slowly and looking at him with a melancholy smile.] At first I was surprised, you understand ? It is necessary, you know, to be- come accustomed to an idea. And now — I am so, [This said after a struggle vnth her awn emotions, which she conceals from, Sartorys.] You are just the husband I would have chosen for her, for I have often thought of Gilberte' s marriage, and sometimes with fear. Her wil- fulness and frivolity have made me tremble for the future [Sits on sofa Sar Ah! Louise And I have never thought imtil this moment, that in order to save her from any danger, it was only necessary to give her to a man like you. Sar Do not let us blame what you call her frivolity, for I confesp to vou it is a little on account of that I love her. Still, if you think 11 best, I will try to teach her— but by degrees— Louise How much you love her ! Sar Yes. Louise But why did you come to me ? Sar Because your father lold me it was you I must speak to — Louise "Well, you have spoken to me and I have answered you And now, [Sartorys sits beside her.] what more ? Sar You — ^you w^ll speak to her, to Gilberte for o«t Louise II U FROr FROU. Sar It I tried to speak myself, the same thing w juld happen thai happened a while ago, I should go wandering wildly about, afraid to come boldly up to the gate — I mean the point. Or, if I did speak, what I would say might be more disastrous than my silence. She might laugh, and then— I prefer that you should speak to her. Tell her all the good you can of me, and even a little more — that will do no harm. But, I beg of you, don't say that my character is serious or severe ; there is the greatest danger. Tell her that, in spite of my appearing quiet, and grave, and awkward, that I love her as madly as any of the young fellows who surround her. [Risinr/.] Oh ! if you only knew how I have envied V alreas, who can make love to a dozen women, one after the other. Tell her, above all, not to think me stupid ; for, by an unfortunate fatality, those who can love the most are always the ones who know least how to speak of love. Louise [Rising.] Yes, yes —I promise. Sar [c 1 You will speak to her ? When ? Louise [l. c] As soon as I see her. In a few minutes. Sar [Agitated.] In a few minutes? Louise Do you not wish me to ? Sar Yes, but not while I am bere. Louise Certainly not 1 But what will you do while I am pleading your cause ? Sar I will go out there— in the park— and walk up and down. I will not lose sight of this room. [JoijousIt/.] If the answer be "yes," you will have but a sign to make ; if it be " no "— [Sadly. Louise If it be no ? Sar I will mount my horse and return home. I/ouise [Holding out her hand.] Without a farewell ? Sar Ah, Louise ! all my life hangs on yes or no. [Listening of e. Music.] Hark! do you not hear her ? Her footsteps on the staircase! The rustle of her skirts ?— Louise Always the same noisy Frou Frou. Sar She comes like a little tempest. [Gets r. u. 8. Enter Gilberte in dinner toilcl, like a whirlwind, r. 1 e. hdding a bracelet in her hand. Gil [c] Louise, fasten me this? if^f^y. y}^^^ ^ , [Sartorys gets dovm r. gradually. 6ii This bracelet ! I can't ! [Holds out her left arm ; Louise fastens the bracelet.] Good gracious ! how your hand trembles ! What is the matter with you ? [Seeing Sartorys, extends her right hand to him, Louise stai retaining the left.] Your servant, Mon. Sartorys ! Sir [Taking her hand.] Mademoiselle. [Bows Gil Why, your hand trembles too I [Sartorys and Louise look d each ollur each holding a hand of Gilberte 1 What, both of voa ? Why, what's going on here? Ijouise [To Sartorys.] Well, sir, since it is imiiossible for you to remain quiet- "^ [Smainqly. Gd [Kmwwgly] Oho ! ■• r^^J^ iJMM You had better go and walk about a little. FROU FROU. 19 Sot Yes, Mademoiselle, I am going— to walk about a little. [Exits c. and l. with last gesture to LouiSK. Gil And now, my dear sister, [Taking both her Iiands.] let me beg SjttT pardon for coming in so abruptly and spoiling your tete-a-tews. ut why did he go away ? He should have stayed here and kept quiet, and, as soon as I saw which way the wind blew, I'd have gone around the room as if 1 was looking for something, and then — fizz ! gone out again and left you two to yourselves. That's the way to manage it. You see I know. Louise You were perfectly right in coming, Gilberte, and still more 60 to stay. It was of you we were talking. Git Of me ? Louise Mon. Sartorys asks for your hand. Gil [Amazed.] What do you say ? Louise I say that Mon. Sartorys has asked for your hand. He haat spoken to father already, and he, knowing the affection I have for you, my dear Gilberte, advised him to speak to me. Gil My hand 1 Sartorys ! Impossible ! You must be mistaken. Louise But I am not mistaken. Gil Then he is mistaken. It is you that he is in love with. Louise It is you. GU I? Louise He told me so, and bega;ed me to repeat it to you, and — GU Well! Louise He waits for yonl answer. Gil My answer ! Now? Before I've time to take breath I And you say he spoke to papa about it ? Louise Yes. Gil And papa left it to you ? Loum Father could not give the answer, it is you alone. Gil No, no, no, no ! It s too serious for me. I have always said, when the question of my marriage came, I would go and find my gister Louise, who is so good and so wise, and I would beg her — Louise No, Gilberte, no. Gil Yes, yes ! I do as papa does— I refer it to you. You must decide for me. I will give whatever answer you advise me. Louise [ With an effort.] In that case, I advise you to answer — yes ! GU Louise, have you reflected ?— Louise Yes. Sartorys' merit is universally acknowledged. Cril Oh, I know he has merit, a great deal too much, jerhapg. Louise How so ? Gil Louise, sit here with me. [Louise on sofa, Gilberte chair.] 1 am going to speak serious now. Monsieur Sartorys, I acknowledge, is a man to whom it is almost impossible to say no. Let me see — what do they say he will yet become with his talents ? Louise Oh ! minister somewhere— an ambassador. Gil [riayfully.] And I would be an ambassadress ! That would be nice, if it were only in Paris. [Seriously.] But if I do him justice, I must do myself the same. I am full of faults ; you know it and so do I, and it seems to me that these faults of mine are the very ones Sar* 14 FROU FROU toiys Bhould wish in a wife if be hoped to be entirely unhappy. [Sh* laughs, Louise makes a gesture of disaffirmance.] Oh, you think he would cure me ? I am sure he could not I have always been spoilt— by papa first, then by you. By you still more than papa. [Louise ma^ mme gesture.] Yes, still more. And, what is still more, i am posi- tively decitled to remain hopelessly ill of those faults and never to be cured, for I am perfectly satisfied with myself just as I am. If I married M. de Sartorj^s we would have such battles. Louise He loves you. Gilberte. Gil Are you very sure? Lmcise Did you not see a little while ago ? Gil [A pause ; she reflects ] And so it is I he loves. [Lauffhs.] What a funny idea. [Rises. Louise [Animated ; rising.] Is it nothing to be loved by such a man ? To see that he trembles before you like a child ? [Still more animated.] It seems to me if I were asked who is it I love, I should say with pride : ' ' Look for the man who is superior to everyone about him — it is he. ' ' Gil [Going to her and putting her arms around her vmst.] Do you know one thing, sister Louise ? Louise What is it ? Gil I will not marry Mon. Sartorys. Loui-^e Why ? Gil [Demurehj.] Because, up to this time, I thought that ytm loved him ; and now — I am sure of it. Louise It Gil [Patting Louise's cheelc] Yes, you. Louise [ Very quietly.] If I loved him I would not advise you to marry him. Gil [Moving away] Louise, I'm become afraid of you. I believe you are — first, capable of sacrificing yourself for me and then of being proud of the sacrifice. Louise [Going to Gilberte and putting her arm about her toaiet.] Then, this time, little sister, you are wrong. My aflection for you is cer- tainly very great, but, however great it might be, if I loved, I would not— [An imperceptible look of pain passes over her face, not seen by Gilberte. Gil [Doubtingly, and looking doicn.] Do you speak truly? Louise [Gaily.] Absolutely. And if you have no other objection to this union — Gil Objections ! Oh, I've plenty of them ; but I don't know whether they amount to anything. So I will do as I have always done — place myself in your hands. Must I say yes, or no ? [Louise about to speak.] Do not answer too quickly. Be serious ; and before answering, think of everything. Louke I have thought of everything. Gil And you believe — Louise I believe that Monsieur Sartorys will be too happy with yoi^ for you not to be always happy with him. Gil [SmiUng.] So I must answer Yes ? FROU FROU. , 16 tauist [Kissingf^er.'] You must answer Yes. Enter BRiGAitD, "L. v. B. Brig Well, have you spoken to her? Louise [c] Yes. Brig And her answer ? Loidse She consents. Brig [Kissing Gilbestb.] You little angel ! [Louise goes down r. n. , Just pressing handkerchi^ to her eyes, and recovering immediaidy.'] Gil So you are satisfied, papa^? Brig I'm delighted ! And now I can give that young rascal, Val- reas, a categorical answer. Gil Answer ! about what ? Brig [Laughing.] Why, he asked for your hand, too. Louise [Turns, laughing.] So he did. Gil [To Brig.] And that makes you laugh? [To Louise.] And you, too? Well, it is very probable that if he had spoken to me I would have laughed more than either of you. [Gravely.] Who knows, perhaps that folly would have been the most reasonable. However, it is decided. Brig But— C'eZ Don't let's say anything more about it. It is decided. [Cfurt- tcys and laughs.] Consider me an ambassadress. [Goes r. to Louise. Brig [c] So I can call in poor Sartorys, who is in the park? Ga In the park ? Brig [Goes up c] Yes ; there he is, look at him. Gil [Laughing.] Poor fellow i Yes, call hira in. Brig Sartorys, here ! Sartorys ! Come here, a moment, my boy j I've something to say to you. Enter Valreas, l. 1. e., in full evening dress, with a large camelia in kia button-hole. Vol Well, you see I'm not late for dinner ! [Seeing every one silent.] Hallo ! something's going on ! [He goes to Brig, l. c. Enter Sartobts, quickly, l. u. e. Louise advances to meet him. Gilberti remains r. c. Sartorys c. Louise [To Sartorys.] You will dine with us. Monsieur. Gilberts begs you to remain. Gil [lidding out her hand.] Yes, I ask you. Sar [Ckosi^ing Louise and kissing Gilberte's hand.] Oh ! if you only knew how happy— [Louisr saunters up o. Gil I know. ['J'hey go up r. c. \al [Aside to Brigard, bringing him down. | What's to become of me! Brig [Aside to Valreas.] Well, now, I hope you'll let me alone. \al [Same.] Then I suppose I'd better look after the widow? Brig [Sa'.m] She's gone. [Goesupo.to'Lo\Jist>. Val Gone ? Well, that's consoling. 16 ^ FROU FROU. Enter Baeon and Bakoness, in full dress far dinnea , L. 1 ■. Vol Ah, Baroness ! what a delicious toilet. [Kisses her hand. BarON puU glass to his eye, and looks on Valrbas co'nplacentb/.] Bar \ Aside to Valreas.] What is going on ? Ah ! M. de Sartorya and Gilberte I thought so. Val Exactly. It's a match. What kind of music would you sug- gest for that marriage ? eh ? Bar What music ! Music of the future. We will wait and see. Val Gilberte gone ! the widow gone ! Baroness, I have no one tc adore now, but you. Baron [Nudging Valeeas.] Go it, my boy. Fourth attempt. [Takes stage E. Brig To Dinner ! JTBkiqaed and Louise, Valreas and Baeoness, Saetgets and Gilbertb, Baeon. Chirtain.] ACT II. m SCENE.— T^c hmse of Sartouys, in Paris. Sofa r, front to audimce Piano behind sofa, up and down stage. Round table l. h. Chimney L. H. Large mirror over mantelpiece Flowers and pedestals about room. Marble bust on stand c. Picture of Feou Froc on easel above L. tahU. Chairs e. and l. Walls covered with pictures. Arm chair l. of table. PiTOU discovered, hat in hand, sitting on chair L. , with book and roll qf i music in hand. i Pitou The greatest folly of a fashionable woman is to appear on the * stage of a theater ; the next to the greatest folly is to wish herself there ; and the folly before that is to take part in private theatricals. [Rises.] But they all do the last — all. [Gom to piano and touches it.] Good instrument — musical taste, evidently. [Yanms.] T wish some one would come. I' ve been waiting five minutes since I sent up my card. [Adjusts eye-glass and looks from picture to picture.] Not bad — not bad. Enter Pauline, l. 1. e. Pauline Madame will see you, sir, in a moment. She expected you. Monsieur Pitou. is it not ? Pitou Yes. Mademoiselle. M. Pitou, of the Theater Palais Royal. ; Pau Oh, yes' you have been anxiously expected by Madame! she wishes to see you about — about — pshaw, about — Pitou [Dryly.] You dor.'t l:n-)wwhy? [Pauline shakes her head^ You her maid, and not know what she's doing ? Pau Oh, I Is now wh'^n she goes out to walk with M. de Valreas. Pitou M. de ^'•ilreas 's a charm mg gentleman. JBe adores M^amf Bartorys! eh? VROTJ FKOU. i7 Pau He may do what he pleases, but Madame adores only nor husband. PUau And does her husband approve of this little afiair ? Pau What little affair? Pitou Why, the private theatricals that Madame and tbe Baronesa de Cambri and M. de Valreas are getting up. Pau Private theatricals ! oh, that Baroness ! she never gives a poor girl a chance to learn anything that she's up to. So quiet— so sly ! Pitou Yes, very quiet now. Once on a time, when I was a little younger, she was the belle of Paris — such adventures, too ! Ha ! Pau And so they are getting up private theatricals ! and is my lady going to act in them ? Pitou I should think so ! I bring her the prompt-book and music to-day for her part. Pau And what is her part ? Pitou Cleopatra, in the burlesque Vaudeville entitled "Antony and Cleopatra. " Do you know it? [Pauline shakes her head.] Why, Cleopatra is a little grisettc who lodges in a garret. Antony is a poor devil of a fellow, who lives in the attic next to hers. They meet at a masked hM — they come home to,;j:etlier — the sheriffs are about to seize him for debt— she lets him out of his attic into her garret — they elope, and the curtain falls. Pau And is madame— a lady — rich — distinguished— the wife of a Statesman like M. Sartorys— going to act the part of such a vulgai grisettc r Pitou [ShruggiiKj his shoulders.] It's only private theatricals, you knovv'. Besides, the Baroness do C:imbri and M. de Valreas se- lected the part. And then, you know, rich ladies like to act the parts of saucy servant maids in private theatricals. They love to im- itate the low lives they scorn. Now, yoii — you would like the part of a duchess if you were to act — wouldn't you ? Pau Wouldn't I ? 1 want to be a queen. Pitou Why don't you go on the stage? I'll teach you. You have a good figure, if it's properly dressed ; and a good face, if i* were properly painted. Pau No, sir ! My face and figure are natural, and I'm proud of it. Piiou Natural, my dear ! \_Jiymg her through glass, and patting her cheek.] You mustn't be proud of nature if you want to be an actress. No one wants to be natural on the stage, where the daylight is gas- lamps, the moon green calciums, the landscape painted canvasses, the gold dutch metal, and the diamonds tin ! Pau But I thought actors and actresses were praised because they were natural. Pitou Nature — nonsense ! The actor who should strive to be na- tural would be a blundering booby, and the public would like him as little as they do raw meat on the table, although meat in a state of nature is raw. Human taste wants cookery, thafs all. Natural acting. My dear, is only nature, boiled, baked or roasted. [Mume. Gilberte'l Without.] Pauline! Pau Madame ! 18 FROU FROU. Enter Gilberte o. from l. Oil Pauline, send at once for my dress. I will not dino at houx% to-day, and I must have that dress. I must have it before six o'clock. Pan Yes. Madame. [^^ R. 1. e. Gil [To PiTOU.] You have lost no time, sir. PUaii, Not when I knew it was Madame I was to oblige. [Bows profoundly.'] Gil You know me, then? ,, t. . rUou Oh, yes. I also know the father of Madame— M. Bngard— a very lively ' gentleman. He comes very often to our theater ; and sometimes behind the scenes, and sometimes — Gil That will do. What have you brought me ? Pitou [Giving hook.'] Your toU in the Vaudeville. If Madame only knows the part by the printed book, Madame can have no idea of it. This is the complete part, with all the gags in the margin. Gil The gags ! [Sits on a>/a.] Pitou [c] Yes, Madame ; the additions which the actors who played in the piece have added to their parts. Gil. Very well ; and now we want the music. Pitou I have copied it. [Oimng roll. Gil [Readln'j.] Air: " Galop du Tourbillon." What air is that? Pitou I will play it for Madame. [Goes to piano.] Like this. GU Will I ba able to sing that? PUou ')h, yes, for Madame can't have a worse voice than some of our public singer.s. Will you practice it ? Gil Go on, I'll try. [A knock u heard at the door. PiTOU stops. It is repeated. Gil [Turning towards r ii.] Who is there ? No one is to come in. Sartorj/s [ Without.] It is only me, dear. GU Oh, only you. Come in. Enter Sartorys, r. 1. e. My dear, this is M Pitou, from the Thsater. Go on, sir. Sar From the theater ? Gil Yes, you kno?/. It's about the little piece I'm to play in for the benefit of the poor. Sar I had something to say to you — but I'm sorry T interrupted — Gil Oh, M. Pitou can come again. You can come again, M. Pitou. Pitou Whenever you please, Madame. You have only to send me word Jit the Theater Palais Ptoyale. [Saluting,] Monsieur — Madame ! Sar [c] Good morning. Monsieur. [Enf Pitou. c. andi,. Gil [Coming down to Sartorys.] You know what it's all about. It's for the performance - a magnificent performance— got up by Madame de Cambri. for the benefit of the poor. Sar And what does Madame de Cambri play in this raagnilioent performance ? G^ She don't play anything— she gets it up. FEOU FROU. 19 Sar That's her way. Gil flow her way V Sar I mean that while you and the others are running about, act- ing on the stage, she is sitting very tranquilly in front with the other guests, criticising your performance. Gil [SifUa(/ on sofa.] You don't like her. Sar I don't like her, and I don't dislike her. She is merely a wo- man of the world — that is all Gil And I — what am I? [Looking ot him roguishly. Srr iSta'iding hesiie her.] The most adorable little actress in the worl I Gil Very pretty, indeed. [Turning <\ver the leaves of her part."] You wished to speak with me ? S.ir Yes. Gil \ Turning over ',he leaves of her part and speakina heedlessly.] Speak away. Sar [Looking discontentedly at the hook she is studying.] It was about somethinf^ entirely disconnected with this magnificent performance for the b juGtit of the poor. Gil [Sitne bm.] Something serious? Sar Very serious ! [Same bus. Gil [Svne bus.] That's nice. Go on. Sar [Tikin'j chair by sofa.] My darling, I wanted to say — Gil [later rup'mq him.] What is the costume of a debardeur? Sir [S'orprised.] The costunie of a debardeur '/ Gil Oh, you can't make me believe you don't know what the cos- tum? of a debardeur is. Sir Why, the costume of a debardeur consists of a loose silk shirt and a —a a pair of little pantt>.loons of velvet or satin. Gil And whit else? Sar Hum ! Buttcas - plenty of buttons. GH And Ihcn? Sar A little cap. Gil And after that ? Sar Nothing. Gil Nothing ! Oh, I'll never wear that costume — not even for the benefit of the poor. I must find roMOthing else. And now, my dear, I'm rea ly to listen to you. Sar I've seen the Minister of State this m<»rning. Gil [Putting down book.] You toid hhu to come, of course. Sar To come where ? Gd To our performance. Sar Well, no ; but I will tell him ! This morning we spoke of an appointment they liave for me. They want me to take an embassy abroad. Gil [Alarmed.] Abroad? Sar You see, there is nothing in Paris they can give me. Gil [PeLtishl'i.] And where do they want you to go ? Sar Co Carlsruho ! Ambassador to Carlsruhc. Isn't that splendid / Gil Oh, very splendid And how far is Carlsruhe from Paris ? 20 FROU FROU. Sar I don' t know exactly — three or four hundred miles ; fifteen hours by rail. Gd As far off as Baden ? Sar It is very near Baden. Gil [Rising.] Near Baden! why didn't you say so before. [Crosses L.] you said it was abroad. I'll tell you how we'll manage it [!Sar- TORTs rises.] You shall be Ambassador to Carlsruhe— that s settled. [Sartor Y3 takes her hand.] I'll go and pass the summer with you at Baden, and the balance of the year you will come to Paris and see me as often as you can. Sar How ! Gil [Gleefully and rapid y .^ And I may — but mind, I don't promise it — I m ly come and surprise you at Carlsruhe. Sar [In a tone of disappointment.] But — Gil [Stoppi?iy astonvihed.] Why, you didn't think of taking mc to Carlsruhe .'' Sar Why, yes. Gil Alone — we two way off there — all the year ? Sar Why not ? GU But that would be to die — of happiness, 1 know — but to die, nevertheless. [Smiling and coaxingly.] Come, you were not serious'/ can you imagine Frou Frou without Paris ? Sar Well to tell you the truth, I did ! [Gilberte turns away pet- tishly.] But I see I must do one of two things; go to Carlsruhe with- out you, or decline the mission. GU [r. II ] Well. Sar [c] I have decided. Gil [Inter e.f ted.] You will go without me? Sar No ; I will decline. Gil Ah, that will be right. [Goes to him. Snr Do you think so ? I doubt it myself. But one thing I'm sure of— I hiven'tthe heart to leave you. Gil [Pulling her arm about him.] You love me, then, a little still, after f »ur years of mirriage. Sar Yes, Gilberte! and I am only afraid that I do not know how to love. Git [.Archly.] Oh, yes, you vxO. _(>u know very well, for the very best way to love a wife is to let her do everything she wishes— be- cause thcQ, you know, the wife is bound in honor to do everything her husband wishes. Sar [Taking her hands in his.] Then, if I aske- you something — Gil After what you have done for me, can you doubt ? Sar Then, suppose I ask you not to play at this performance. Gil [ Withdrawing her hands.] Oh, my love. Sar Well. Gil I thought you were going to ask me something reasonable, is im{X)ssible for me to refuse to play now ; and then, you will see how pretty I will look in a debardeur costume — if they insist on it. But in anything I'm sure to be pretty, and you will be so proud of me. m FROU FROU. 21 Sar What— with the pantaloons ? [Looking at watch.] I must go. GU Where? Sar To the 3Iinister, to give my answer. On my way, 1 will see our little Georgie in the Park. Gil Isn't Georgie here? Sar No ; we took advantage of the beautiful day to carry him out for a walk. He was ill, you know, this morning. Gil He was ill? Sar Didn t you know? But it was nothing. GU How could I know ? I told them to bring him to my room every morning. [Rings bell on table sharply] And now I remember I have not seen him to-day. ^ Enter Pauline, k. 1 e. Fau The dress has come, Madame. Gil I don't want the dress — why was not Georgie brought to me this morning ? Fau The nurse brought him to your room, but you were asleep, and yesterday, when we brought him, we woke you, and you were angry. GU How dare you ? Sar [To Gilberts.] Never mind. [To Pauline.] You can go. Exil Pauline r. 1 e. GU I was angry ! W hat sort of way is that to speak ? Sar You see, I wouldn't permit you to be spoken to in that way. After all, [smiling] she was right, though. [Gilberte about to speak.] Now, I must go. Gil You will kiss me, at least, before you go. Sar [Kissing her forehead and holding her for a moment.] Ah, Gilberte, Gilberte ! GU Don' t be long. You know I dine with Madame de Cambri. Sar When — to day ? I was not invited, was I ? Gil Oh, no ! All our husbands are to be excluded, in order that wo may have full liberty to talk about our costumes in the performance — you can dine at the club, can't you? Sar No ; I have some writing to do this evening. I'll dine at home. GU What— all alone ? Sar Alone? oh, no ! I shall have Georgie. Good-by. [Kisses hir hand.] Good-by. [Erit c. and l. GU [Snatching awag Jier hand and standing, c, poutivg.] With Georgie! I understand what he means, but nothing is more unjust. [Goes to sofa.] It looks as it I didn't love iny child [SUs.] I love him as much as any of the women that I know love their children. I can't take him myself to walk in the Park, and carry his hoop. [Laughing and clapping her hands.] I don't know but that might be a pretty sight., though. It would be a novelty, anyway. [Looking at clock.] Bless me, almost three, and at this hour the Baroness was to be here with M. de Valreas to rehearse our scene. [Jumping up.] and I don't know a word of my part. 22 FEOU FKOU. [Opens th€ pari which PiTOD gave her, goes to piano, touches it and recUea " I've a pretty litte waist, Black hair and eyes of blue. ' ' Bkigard appears at c. Is that you, papa ? Brig [Applauding.] Go on, you little rogue, go on ! Gil [Singing.] " I have a heart that burns and A face that must please you." Brig Ha, ha, ha ! What are you singing comic opera music for ? Gil [Going to him, c] I was studying my part. I'm so glad to see you— and Louise? Brig Very well, indeed. I've come to say good-by. Gil Are you going away ? Brig Yes — to-morrow mornino:. I'm off to Bohemia. Gil To Bohemia! [Laughs] Have you been appointed Ambassador to look after the theaters in Bohemia ? Brig Nonsense, my dear. It's only one of my little freaks. You know how flighty I am. But I wanted to talk to you about Louise. Gil You are not going to take her ? Brig No— and that's the reason that — Gil I see— you want her to come here. Brig Yes, until I come back. I shall be away three months. Gil Well, she shall ; but not for three months, nor for six, but for always. Since she has taken it into her head never to marry, she shall live with me. You know, papa, how much I love Louise, and you know how I have tried time and again to induce her to come and live with me. She has always refused before and I d^n t know why. Brig Don't you? Why, she was afraid of incommodinp: y u. Gil Why, we have four times as much room as we want. Brig That wasn't it. She was afraid of interfering with j'our hap- piness. Gil Oh, that was all very well during the honeymoon ; but now, after four years — Brig You'd better not talk to her in that style— ^ Gil I know how to talk to her to make her stay with me. Brig Well, she'll be here to-day; all you have to do is to prevent her going away again. Gil I'll do that, if I have to lock the door. [Baroness appears at c. B'ness Can we come in ? Gil Certainly. [Baroness comes down, followed by Baron. Brig [r.] 1 am delighted to see you Madame, since it allows me to bid you farewell before my departure. Baron [r. c] Going to leave us, Brigard ? Where to, now ? B'n&is [c] To Bohemia, I understand. Baron I believe Bohemia is celebrated for its hair-dye, isn.t it ? Brig Well, I'm not going there to lay in a stock of hair-dye, I assure you. FROU FROU. 23 Baron "Well, I wouldn't go, either, if I wore a wig. [All laugh. Brig [Crossing up G.'] He, he, he! Very funny. Allow me to wish you good day. B'ness Good-by, Bohemian. Brig Respect my gray hairs, Madame. B'ness [Looking through eye-glass.] I don't see them. Brig True ; I forgot. I haveu' t had time to grow any yet. Baron Bravo ! Repent of your sins, old boy, and turn bald. [Brigard exits c. and l. , followed hy Baeon. B'ness [Sitting on sofa.\ That horrid man, my husband, my dear, met my carriage and would come with me. And you know 1 must humor hitn a little ; he has a claim on me. He's my husband. But what is this I hear about your sister Louise coming here ? Gil [On sofa.] Yes, she's coming while papa's away ; and after that T hop 3 — B nes.i You hope ? Gil That she will never leave me. B'neas [Regarding her closely. ] Ah ! [Pause.] And vou will take her with you to Carlsruhe ? Gil I am not going to Carlsruhe ! B'ness Sartorys is going alone, then ? Gil He has declined the mission. B'ness I congratulate you, my dear. See what it is to be loved. [Laughing.] After that it's unnecessary for me to ask if he consents to your taking i)art in our little theatrical performance. Gil Well, he consents, but — B'ness Never mind the " buts," my dear, so long as he consents. Have you studie I your part ? Gil All but the last scene B'ness Oh, the whole thing will be a great success. I'm sure of it. And Valreas, who is to act your lover in the piece — Gil When lie does act it ! He don't study a word, B'ne.^s Oh, he'll play it, and for the best of reasons. Gil What is that? B'ness He's dead in love with *he person he's to play with. . Gil Dead in love with me ! nonsense ! you who know him so well can believe that ? B'ness It's just because I do know him so well that I say it. Gil [Crossing to L ] Now you are laughing at me. B'ness [c] I've known Valreas to be in love when it was a laugb* ing matter, but this time Gil [l. c] Well, this time? Enter Babon c. from l. Baron Ladies, Valreas is coming up. B'ness [r. c] Now, my dear, you shall see. Baron [c] Hey? See what ? B'ness Keep quiet. [Baeon starts tip stage —BxROSiLSs crasjes tj Gilbert l. o- 24 FROU FROU. Enter Valrbas, c. from l. Vol [Bowing at door.] Madame! Ah, Baron, where are you going ? BfJTon I? 1 am going to keep quiet. [Sits r. B'ne.vi [ With a gesture to Gilberte.] Come, Monsieur, make ytur adieux. The news was true — your friend Sartorys is appointed to Carlsruhe, and Gilberte leaves us in ei^ht days. Val [Starling forward.'] How? [Gilberte looking down and motionless B'ness Immediately after the performance. Val [To Gilberte, with emotion.] You are going to leave Paris? B'ness [Aside to Gilberte.] What did I tell you ? Gil [Arousing herself.] Come, let us begin the rehearsal. [Grossing to B. B'ness [To Valreas.] I was only joking— she's not going to leave Paris — how could she ? Gil [r. c] Come — the rehearsal. Baron Rehearsal ! Bless me ! Where am I ? What part am I to take? B'ness That of a spectator, who will be put out if he interrupts the performance. Biiron Then let me get a front seat [Brings chair down ] And now, go ahead. Val Let me see what is it we are to rehearse. Gil Only the last scene I haven't read it yet. Val [Cromng to L.] Come the a— the last scene. Baron If I don't see the whole performance, I want my money back. [Baroness crosses to and expostulates ivtth him. Gil [TbVALUEAs] I'm surcyci don't know a word of your part. Val Don't I? 1 staid up all night to study it. [Takes part out of his pocket.] I'll repeat it without looking at the book. [To Baroness.] But you will be ready to prompt me ? B ness Oh, I'll take care of that. Gil What is the scene ? Val The stage represents two apartments, separated by a wall. I'll fix it. [Places 2 chairs in c. up and down stage.] This is the wall, and here between the two chairs is the door. [Places a third chair f&r door.] Cleopatra, that's you, in one room ; Antony, that's me, in the other. Gil But I thought in the last scene Antony was in Cleopatra's apartment, [l. of chairs.] Val [l. of chairs.] Oh, we'll come to that. Now take vour place 1 there. Allow me to open the door. " * [Pulls away middle chair, and Gilblrtk pa.'iSjs through to R. H. 1 Ga Now we're right. Where will you go. Baroness ? I Baron Come, clear the stage. ^ B'ne.'ts I'll be prompter; give me the book. [Takes book, and ini» [ L. down st^ige opposite Baron.] Now we're off. Gil I^et's be.'j:in wliere the constable has just gono- Val To look for the Commissary of Police ? FROU FROU. 25 Gil That's it. Val You commence. Baron Ring up the curtain. [Oommences to appUmd. B'ness What are you about? Baron Giving them a reception, my dear ; it encourages them. Gil 1 Ceasing to speak naturally, and playing a little awkwardly, which she must do throughout this '• rehearsal.'" A^ '' He is gone ! He is gone !" Val [Playing with animation.'] "Bravo! bravo! Hurrah!" Baron [Applauding. ] Bravo ! bravo ! Val [To Baron.] My dear sir, you put me out. B'ness [To Baron.] Will you be quiet ? Biron 1 thought he was starting the applause. Go on. Gil "He is gone ! he is gone !" Baron Stop ! stop ! you said that before. Val [Coming in front of chairs and bowing to Baroness, then Baron.] The management begs me say — Baron He s going to apologize. Some of the actors are sick ; have to change the piece. Val — That unless order is preserved, the performance can not proceed Baron [Applauds. To Baroness.] I suppose he means me. B'ness Sh ! Gil " He is gone ! he is gone !" Baron Well, this is the most vividly interesting play I ever at- tended. Gil Please, Baron ! " He is gone! He is gone !" [Baron turns away in disgust. "But he will return with the Commissary. They will force the door ! Pray, sir, [is if through wall] no more of your fooling." B ness Very good I Very good, indeed ! Baron [ With Ifie air of a co/moisseur.] Yes, very good ! Really very good. Gil Isn't it ? " Pray, sir, no more of your fooling." [To Baro7i.] And you will see at the performance I will do it even better. B'ness Now you. " Ah ! a light — " Val 1 know without prompting. "Ah! a light breaks in upon me. I will clear my apartment, and put all my furniture into yours.'' Gil ■' In my room ? ' Vd "Why not ; since I'm about to marry you?" (j'il "Before the Mayor ?" B'ness [I'o GiLBERTi.J In the book it says you must speak that line very quickly. Gil Haven't I said it quickly enough ? B'ness [Imitating Gilberte.] No ; you said it this way — "Before the Mayor!" Gil [To Valreas] Shall we go over it again ? Val With all my heart. " Since I'm about to marry you. Gil [ With a rush.] ' ' Before the Mayor ?' ' [All applaud her. I hope that 1 did it then. 26 FROU FROU. B'ness That time it was excellent. Gil [Repealing.] " Before the Mayor?" Val "Quick ! quick ! open the door." Gil " No, no; I dare not. [To B'ness.] What do I do then ? B'ne.'is [Refer ling to book.] The book says you run to the window and look out. Gil Oh, yes ; so I do. [Goes to side and pretends to look out.] "Ah, the ; police are coming, led by the Commissary. Gracious, what a long sword he has ; and heavens, what a long nose he has !" Val " I'll make it longer yet, when I get hold of it. Open the door, quick." B'ness [Referring to hook.] Now you open the door between your apartments. Gil So I do ! [Goes to chair and stops.] And what do I say then ? Bnron Why, you say come in. B'ness No, you don't. You say, " So much the worse. Now let's be off." Baron So she does. I forgot. Gil [Throioing damn the middle chair, lohich represents the door.] "So much the worse. Now let's be off." Vul [Rushing to her with outstretched arms, as if to en^race her.] ' ' Now we'll be off." Gil [Eluding him i?i earnest] Stop. What are you going to do ? [Valreas pausen. B'ness What's the matter ? Go on. Val [Smiling.] Madame don t seem to be willing. B'ness [Referring to book.] He's right. The book says, "He kisses her as they go off. ' ' Gil Does the book say that ? [Comes down to Baroness, v-ho shou"; her the book. Baro.v also looks over it with eye-glass.] Baron Yes; there it is. "He kisses her as they go off." [With emphasis.] I should like to pLiy that part myself. [Crosses to his seat again.] Gil [l. c. very promptly .] Well, we'll go off without that. Val [c. As GiLBERTE goes up.^ What ? I agreed to play the part on that account alone. Gil Well, perhaps on the night of the performance I may — Val [Sitting down.] Very well ; I'll perform it very badly if I don't rehearse it. Baron Oh, he must rehearse it, you know. Here [Going up.] let me show you. B'ness Sit down, sir. [Baron subsides. Gil Come, let's go on without the kissing. Val No / wont go on. Gil I appeal to the Stage Manager. [Turning to Baroness.1 Ought he to kiss me at rehearsal / B'nes^i Certainly — [Gilberte nndecidea, ana lurmng away. Besides, my dear, you know it's for the benefit of the poor. Gil [ With an emotion which she tries to conceal.] Well — if you say I FROU FROU. 27 Buron [Pitying Gilberte's distress.] Oh, well ; come, now ; if she don't want to. [Baroness makes signs for him to he quiet. Valreas jumps up, approaches GiLBERTE, whose hack is to him {her face hjwed, and turned up the stage) and then stops.] B'ness Well, what are you stopping for? Val [Confuted.] I— [Approiching nearer to Gilbebtk, vrith resjjed.] Madame ! [Takes a single lock of her hair in his hand, and presses it to his lips. At this moment, and on this picture, Louise appears in c. D. Baron and Baroness rise. Emharrassment on part of all Louise comes down c. , looJcing with astonishment at all, and at the disness exeunt l. c. Baron goa to Gilberte r. c. Shakes hinds with her; then crosses fo Louise, but scared hy her demeanor, hurries out \j. C. Gil [Running to LouiSE.] My dear, dear Louise. Louise Dear sister ! [Kisses her affectionately .] What has happened? Gil [Archly.] Don't you know ? \Lovi^}^ signifies ''No." A great happiness is in store for me. Sit down here with me. [Places her arm ahout Louise and lends her to sofa.] Louise [After they sit.] Well ? Gil [Takmg both Louise's hands.] Suppose I have a sister ! Louise A sister ? Gil Yes ; a sister whom I love very much ; and suppose, after being separated from her for four years, I find her again, all of a sudden, when I can hope to keep her with me forever ! Louise What do you mean, my dear Gilberte ? 28 FROU FBOU. (Jil That now yon are come, you are to remain witt me all my life. I have arranged it with papa. Louise But I have heard nothing of this. [Enter Sartorts, c. from l, Sar [Taking Ijovise'h hands.] Ah ! they told me I should find you hetr Gil Have you seen the Minister ? Sar Yes. Gil And what did you tell him ? Sar What I promised. All is finished. Gil Ah ! how much I love you for that. And to console you for the mission you have lost at Carlsruhe, I give you a mission to per- form here. Sar A mission ? Gil Yes ; and an important one, too. Papa is to leave to-morrow for three months ; and lie and I have arranged that Louise shall re- main with us while he is away ; but after that-- Sar \Playfvlly.'] What then ? Gil You must decide the rest. Louise [Troubled.'] Gilberte ! What are you saying ? Gil [To Sartorys.] She thinks that she will incommode us. You must tell her she is foolish to say such things ; and that instead of being in the way, her presence here will be of the greatest service. You know how to manage her ; and you can persuade her to stay, if you tell her she has a duty to fulfill here [Gilberte throughout this speech is speaking to Sartorts, and at Louise, to whom her eye 7wto and then ■zanders significantly.] I'ell her that there are ever so many important things for her to do here— wearisome things, in fact, that bore me, and exhaust me, but will make her happy — they always did ; for she loves serious duties. [Rises and crosses to l. of him.] You tell her everything you can think of to make her stay. I haven't a moment's time to spare now ; and, besides [To Louise.] our little Georgie loves you so much. [Pointing to Sar.] Only see how lucky it is you came in as you did, for he was going to dine here — all alone. And now 3'ou can dine with him. [Moving off l.] I give him to you. You must take my place. [Louise rise% as if about to speak. Not a word ; it's fixed. I'll run and tell them to serve dinner for two ; there now. [Runs out l. 1 e. Sar [Taking liands of Louise.] Gilberte is right. You must gta) Viith us. I won't hear any denial. It's settled. Louise But it is not settled. Sar [Laughing. [ Not if I get vexed ? Louise Not if you get vexed. Sar Not even if I beg you to remain ? Louise [Crossing.] Not even if you beg me to remain. Sar [Seriously.] Louise ! [Taking her hands.] You will render Gil berte and myself a great service by staying with us ; for>then some- thing that is very much needed in this house will he needed no longer. Louise [ Withdratving her hand.] What is needed here? Sar A wife FROU FBOU. 29 Louise What is this you tell mc? Sar I say that what is needed in this household is a wife ; and yon know it, although you pretend that you do not. [I'ame. Louise [Witli emotion.'] What has happened? Sar I'Tothing has happened. Everything is the same now as always, with us. I love Gilberte more than ever I did. Louise I knov/ it. {With a smile.] But I don't see what great mis- fortune that is. Sar You don't see? Louise No. Sar Then you shall. This morning I was appointed Minister to . You have heard of it? Louise Yes ; and I was prouder than ever of you. Sar I told Gilberte, and she said to me she would never consent to leave Paris. Louise And then you — Sar I refused the honor they would have conferred upon me. 1 refused it for her sake ; and with the same satisfaction that I would feel in making her a present, no matter how simple. And yet by that refusal I know I have sacrificed that brilliant fortune that had been my life-long dream. I refused it because I love Gilberte, and she permitted me to do so — because she loves me not. Louise Sartorys ! Sar When you gave Gilberte to me — because it was you who gave her to me — Louise [Turning partly awaji.] Yes ; it was I. Sar You said tome, "You are the fittest husband for Gilberte; and her frivolity will caus'j me less fear for her, when she is the wife of a man so wise as you." You did not think then what so wise a man as I could become. Those faults in her which made you fear, and which I might have cured by a I'.ttle firmness, I refused to per- ceive then, because I loved her. I love her to-day as I loved her from the first ; but now, after four years, you v/ill find in Gilberte the same faults, only the faults /lave become greater. Louise But her child ? Sar She adores him. A little while ago Georgie was seriously ill. Gilberte pas.sed eight nights at his side, sleeping but an hour at a time. By day she was never from him PIcv love and watchfulness alone snatched him from the grave. He recovered ; then foi wholo ."veeks she saw him only five minutes in the morning and five minutes at night. Louise Who took care of him then ? Sar His governess ; and I, v. hen I could. Louise What you tell me is dreadful. Sar Yes. And if Gilbert and I must remain alone, abandoned to one another, who can tell what will be the end of it all. {Taking her hands again.] But if some one else — Louise Some one else — Sar Some one wlio is good, and kind, and wise, woull come be- tween us ; would take control of this household, which every on« DO FROU FROU. neglects ; would perform those duties which Gilberte avdda, and whicli I have not the will to press upon her. Lcaisf But you must ; it is your duty. S-tr 1 know it is my duty ; but I have not the strength to perform it against her. You can now see how the danger which now threatenu th'/housc, and which I know not how to avert, may become greater e- ery day. [Smiling.'] It is one of those situations of which it ia afficult to speak without a smile : a frivolous wife and an indulgent jiusband. They have been seen before— they will be seen again ; and that is all there is the matter here ! The danger is about us. Neither Gilberte nor I can avert it ; but I sincerely believe you can defend us against it. Louise [In a loxo voke.] Yow think so ? Sar We must keep you with us. The course pointed out by Gil- bert was rirht ; and now you know you have a duty to perform. Louise [I'ucing him.] A duty? Sar A duty. And never was an accident more providential than that which sent you to us. Louise It is well. I remain. Sar Thanks. ErUer Vincent, vrith a package of letters and papers, and a shaded larr/p^ lightedy which he places on table r. Louise [Aside. Crossing to n. h. cor.] This, then, is their happiness I [Music. Enter Gilberte R. 1 e., ^^ en grande toilette," noisdi/. Georgie, unper- ceived by her, is holding en to her shrt. and half J idden by it. Gil I am late. [To Vincent.] Order the carriage immediately. [Vincent still fixing papers at table. Do you hear? immediately! [To Sartorys.] She will stay, won't she? [Exit Vincent, c. Sar Yes. Gil [c] Then this is a good day's work. I'm so glad. [Goes towards Louise, but perceives that Georgie has hold of her skirt.] Take care, take care ; you will tear me ! [Repulses him brusquely, and lo^kt at her robe] .* Louite [r. c] Come to me, Georgie. Gil Yes, go to your aunt. [Georgie runs to Louise and embraces her. Gil You see you did well to remain. Your duties begin at once. You will all dine together ^^ery nicely. But let me see : before I go, I must instill yDu. [To Sartorys, se'iting him in chair.] Now, here are your letters, and your papers, and your darling politics. [Sh(. ^eads on the table before Sartorys the letter.'^. &c.. which Vincknt brought m. 1 And you, Louise, you will sit there in my place. [Places arm-chair by chimney, to which Louise crosses with GeorqIE. Enter Vincent, c. from l. Imcent The carriage, Madame. iEjat$ a FROU FROU. 31 Gil [Going up c] Now, I must be off. [Stops in doorwixy and fooki kKk.] How charming you all look, that way. [Laughing.] A de- lightful little family group. [Kissing her hand to each.] For you. [To Louise.] For Georgie. For you. [To Sartorys. [Exits laughing with childish glee. Sartorys looking after her, Louisi bending down embracing Georgie. Quick curtain.] ACT III. SCENE.— 5ame as Act II Enter Baron followed by V inoent Baron [As he enters.] You are sure the Baroness has not called here this morning ? Vincent Positive, Monsieur, no one has called to-day ; not even M. de Valreas. Baron Why do you say " not even " M. de Valreas ? Vin. Because he comes here every day. Baron The young jackanapes ! and what does he come for? Vin I suppose to see master, although he alwpys sees Madame. Baron [Looking at him sharply.] Eh ? [Vincent smiles, shrugs his shoulders and goes to mantel. Baron "What an imprudent little creature Gil berte is ! The ser- vants begin to talk, and what's worse, to shrug their shoulders. Hang the rascals. [Gues to sofa, picks up a book and turns his back on others. Enter Pauline, r. Pauline Vincent, has the porter returned with the answer to Mad« ame's letter? Vin [Yawning.] The answer? Pau "The answer" — Stupid, yes, the answer — don't I speak plainly ? Vin [Lazily.] Let me see, the letter was to M. de Valreas, wasn't itf [Baron looks up from kis hnok. Pau. What are you saying things over and over for ? y :c know Madame is waiting impatiently. Vin Yesr "Well the porter has not yet returned with the answer. Pau Ther. go along with you, and don't stop dawdling here. [Vin- OFNT curls his moustache and smiles.] What are you smiling about ? Vin Oh, nothing ! But I will go watch for the porter who bringi 'he letter for Madame from M. de Valreas. [Sauntoing up. Pau What airs you put on. Let me tell you if you look that way, •11 inform Madame Sartorys. Vin Oh, no! you'd better inform M. Sartorys. Pau Well, 1 will, if you like that better. I won't allow Madame'i t2 FKOU FROU. name to be smiled at and shrugged at all over the hon&t by yon or anybody ehe. Barm [Dropping hook.'] Bravo! That's right! [7b Vincent.] Now you jro !ind grin somewhere else about the house, will you ? Vin Certainly, if Monsieur wishes it, with pleasure. \Exiis c, with final smile at Pauline who iurn^ away impatiently, and hegom off shrugging his shoulders. Pnu I beg pardon. Baron. Baron What for? For defending your mistress ? Don't, you ai« right. My wife's maid does the same thing. I like to hear her. Fau My mistress does nothing to require defense. Baron That's right. I like to hear it. Pan [Becoming excited.] Madame is everything that' s good — but tbesa self-sufficient valets they think they see more than any ope else. Baron So they do— but they don' t. Pau [More excited.] No, indeed — for there's nothing to see. Baron Of course not. Pau [Quite ivarmly.] What is there in Madame' s receiving an answer to a letter ; if you write a letter, it's natural to expect an answer. Baron It is — it certainly is — don't get into a passion about it. Pau I know i came from the country, bur I know my place better than to act like this fellow, who is always talking and shrugging his shoulders whenever M. de Valrcas comes here. What's it his busi- ness, I'd like to know. Suppose your servants, Baron, should talk to one another, and smile n,nd shrug their shoulders whenever a young gentleman came to see your wife, and suppose — Baron [Uneasily.] No, don t — don't suppose it. My servants never smile except v/heu they get their waives, and I have their coats made so tight that they can't shrug their shouldei-s. Pau Oh, that's excellent. Baron Yes, a man must i;et round his servants somehow. But let's change tlie subject. I'm v/aiting here for my wife — she usually comes here in the morning — that is, she says she does. Pau Oh, yes. Monsieur. Sometimes alone, and sometimes with M. de Valreas ! Baron [Crossing l.J Oh, hang de Valreas ! Enter Gh^ekte, r. c. , salutes Baron who bows. Boron I thought perhaps my wife might be here. She said she was coming. If I'm not in the way— Ail [Coming down c] By no means. [Baron goes vp l. c] Pauline I Pau [u. c] Yes, Madame. OU [Low and ivith emotion.] The messenger has not returned? Pau [Low and modestly.] No, Madame! Gil That will do. [Exit Pauline, r. 1 e.] [Coming down. Aside.] What will be his answer ? To such a letter there can be but one an- •wer ; that he obeys me, and will leave Paris at once. FROU FROU. as Enter Baroness, c. from l., dressed for walking and in a great hui ry. B'nes^ \To Gilbert. withotU regarding Baron.] Ah, my dear ! [Qmiea forward with outstretched /lands.] Baron [Quickly.] Ah, my dear! [Advances towards her icith outstretched hands; sh? passe? him and goea to GiLBBRTK. who is near L c, and who extendi her hands quietly and witk- mi demonstration. Baron rubs his chin and goes over to B. jB'w€ss Get your bonnet, my dear, and come out with me, quickly. GU [Listlessly.'] Where ? \Sils at table. B'ness Oh, such a sensation ! you remember the account in the papers about the jealous husbands in the Rue du Petit, who came loomc suddenly the other morning, and shot the other poor fellow, and then escaped ; you remember the papers were full of it. Well, the house is going to be sold— furniture and all— and every one is going 1,here to look at it ; not to buy much, only a keepsake or so. You must come with me, we will pick up something. Biron I wouldn't gj there, my dear, if I were you. B'ness [Looking at him through eye-glass.] Perhaps not. People with bad consciences ought not to. You ain't afraiJ I'll come home sud- denly some morning and shoot you or anybody else, in our house, are you ? Baron No, my dear, husbands are not generally shot. B'ness More's the pity— they dessrve ic. Baron Oh ! well, my dear, if you do go to this sale, and pick up " anything " as you say — B'ness Well? Baron Don't 1st it be the example of the lady of the house. [Exits in a pet, c. and l. B'nes-t Rely on that, dear ! By-by ! But come, my dear Gilberte, put on your things Gil. [Seriouslg.] You must go without me B'ness. [c] Why? GU [Constrainedly.] I can not go. But don't let tlmt hinder yoti. You can go alone. [Rises. B'ness [Astonished at Gilberte's manner.] Of course I can. But coiue here a little my dear. [Using Gilberte's shoulder to tarn her round.] and let me look at you. Gil [Looking ai her.] Well ! B'ness [Drawing a long breath.] Hem! I don't know! Too serious for such a pretty face, much to serious. Gil Does that make you uneasy ? B'ness Seriousness is a bad sign in a house that is .not used to it. And what makes me really uneasy, my dear, is T think I can divine the cause. [Significantly. Gil No, no, you can not, I assure you. [Quickly. B'njss So much the better, if I am deceived — and a certain hot- headed young fellow of my acquaintance, named 7alreas has nothhig to do with it. GU [Starting.] Valreaa? M FROU FBOTT. B'ness Hasn ' t he now ? Not the least bit ? Gil Well, yes, he is concerned— B'ness [Interrupting her.] I thought so. GU [Quickb/.] But you are deceived very much indeed, if you think there is anything serious. I can prove it to you in a few loinuteB, Enter Vincent with a letter, o. from l. Ta that the answer from M. de Valreas? Vin Yes, Madame. Gil Ah ! [Takes letter from Vincent and opens it eagerly. Vincent eziU looking bade and shrugging his shoulders as he goes off. GtILBEbtb hands 1M letter to the Baroness.] There ! [Crosses to sofa while Baroness reads. B'ness [Reads] '' Tou order me to leave Paris. I go to-night." Gil [Earnestly and turning.] Now you see. [Sitting. B'ness I see "that there is more danger than I supposed. For him to send such a letter to you — you must have written to him. [Silting beside her. GU Of course. A letter in which I ordered him to leave Paris. B'ness In which you ordered him to ? Come, my dear, see what a position you are in ! You remember how I laughed at first, when we had our rehearsals, let me see— two months ago, at Valreaa being smitten with you. I thought it was only play— an agreeable way of passing the time ; I never dreamed of your taking it seriously, for 1 thought [ had to do with a reasonable woman, a woman like myself, and if any one had suggested seriously that I should fall in love with another man than my husband, it would absolutely look to me as if, after submitting to a sound drubbing for the sake of duty, 1 liad so- licited another for the sake of pleasure. Those are my principles ; I thought they were yours too, for who could imagine, that Valreas, a mere boy, a charming boy to be sure, but perfectly laughable as a lover, could inspire a real sentiment, and become — well, I won't sa) dangerous. GiL You may say dangerous. [Smiling B'7iess No I won't. I don't want to say it. Gil Yes, dangerous! And I'm glad of it. [Baroness storte,] be cause the knoivledge of this danger that I run, is the first seriou» thought which ever entered my head ; [Smiling.] and when that en- tered, sever 1 others equally sivious, slipped in after it. B'ness [Woniinrjb/.] Take care, my dear! Gil A number of things to which I never paid any attention, now appear to me i?i their true light. Do yoa remember what you said to me the (Liy I told you mv sister was coming to live with us here ? B'nesi W'lvit did I.say ? Gil Y oil said — ' ' Ah ! " B'ness Well that wasn't much GU Well, after Louise bad been installed here, I began to perceive that it was less a;jfreeable to me than I thought at first. When I saw her take so gently, so aptly, my place beside my child, beside my hasband, ther; came to me certain thoughts, and 1 recalled youi " Ah !" and I >egan to understand it. FROU FROU. 88 B'licis Perhaps it would Lave been better if you bad not sueii so mucb. Gil [ResdiUdy.'\ \ saw what I ou^ht to see, and nothing mote but I shall put a atop to all this by taking a decisive step. [Rising ixcittdly. B'ness [Alarmed.] \. decisive step ? Gil. [Oi-osdng.] Yes. B'nesa [Rising.] "What step? yon frighten me. Gil [Ezatedlij —returning and stopping o.J I am determined to regain the place 1 have lost ; lo commence to live very differently from the manner in which I have lived up to this day. [Baroness smiles incred utous'y.] You don't believe tJiat I can? Bness Oh, yes, I believe it. Gil [Grossing to sofa.] Believe it or not, as you please, I am decided. [Sits. B'ness [Goim over to her.] A word of advice, my dear Gilberte. Drop your grand resolutions. Don't become a stupid, jealous wife- don' t! Come with me— run in debt— live faster thin ever— show yourself at the opera in a dress that will draw every eye upon you — or better than that, ride a velocipeJe in the Park ! Do whatever you like, but make it sauethiug in ta it line ! People will talk about you, you v/ill get a bad name perhaps, and every one will believe you are a gone ca^e, but you will be saved ! At the rate you are driving, you fear you will be run away with and dashed to pieces ; so you are frightened and want to jump out. If you do you will be destroyed. Don't jump out— on the contrary, whip up your horses, drive along faster than ever, and the husband of whom you are now jealous will follow you, will be jealous of you, and you will be saved. That's wisdom ! That's my advice. [Rising.] Will you put on your hat, m/ dear, and come with me to see the house where the one poor devil shot the other poor devil ? Gil [Pleamntly.] No. B'ness [Going up c ] Well, you're wrong. Good-by, dear. Gil Good-by ! B'ness [Returning ] Gilberte, I beg of you — if you won't follow my advice, listen to this, at least. If I were in your place, I would stay home for forty eight hours, and during that time, I would think of nothing, do nothing, but try to become calm. Gil \Exdtedly riiing, and crossing abruptly to L.] I have never uecn calmer, or more tranquil. B'ness Oh ! Then good-by, my dear [Exits c. and l. Gilberte rings hell on tabk. Enter Pauline l. 1 e. Pan Madame Gil Has M. Sartorys gone out yet ? Pau I believe not. Gi: Say to him I wish to speak with him. Pau Yes, Madame. [Exit» l. 1 a. Oi' \Lq Mng at Valreas' letter.] Poor fellow! The "feroness wai 86 FROU FROU. right ; who would ever believe that he could become seriously in love f For he does love me ; and he leaves Paris ! It is well. [Tears letter up in little pieces and throws it in Ji replace.] All is over And now we will Bee if my dear sister will consent to yield to me the place whii'h it mine. Enter Louise, r. 1b., dressed for th^ ftre^t, and putting on gloves. Louise Good morning, Gilberte ! Gil [n.] You are going out ? Enter Saktor-ts l. h. Sar You wish to speak with me, Gilberte ? Gil {Mfrely turning her Jiead.] Yes 1 [To Louise.] Where are yon going? Loiise To Madame de Lussy's ; she recommends the new governess we have engaged for Georgie. Gil [Aside and bitterly. \ Fe have engaged ! [Aloud.] I will go myself. Sar [Sitting c. Laughinjhj.] If you f^7 to Madame de Lussy's I know in advance what will happen, ifou viill both chat for an hour over Bome new toilet, and never once think nf the gaverness. Let Louise go. GU [Turning away to the l.] Be it so. Louise [Upc. 7b Sartor ys] Don't forget that you are to go at three o'clock to see about that little j v':*perty we wish to buy. Sar [Gaily.] I shan't forget, ray little man of business. Gil [Aside, j That ice wish to buy. Louise Is that all ? Yes— let me see ! jes, that is all. By-by, Frou Frou ! [Kisses Utlberte, and exits c. and l. Sar [His manner is paternal — a little to.~> pa'ernal, during this scene.'\ Well, my darling ! [Brings his chair down c. and makes Gilberts sit on a stool beside him. Gil [Holding down her head.] I wanted to *»'.\] ) on — that is — Sar Is it something very hard to say, then ? Gil Yes, very hard— it is something like a '>'>nfc8sion. Sar [Earnestly.] A confession? Gil I was going to accuse myself — Sar Ah, I see ; we have been extravagant- • fr have run into debt, Frou Frou ? [Patting her head. GU [Impatiently.] No, it is not that. Sar Of what have you to accuse youi-sclf thei ? Gil Can you not imagine ? [Sartorys s/iakes Afs' h%-d.] Of having been a little frivolous and giddy —even after our marriage, even after the birtli of little Georgie— in fact, of having always ifcLiaincd Frou Froa, and of not having become — Sar Is that all ? Why yen almost frightened me. I see D^tbing very dreadful in all that. Gil Nothing? Sar Nothing at all ! ^ Gil But some time ago you spoke diflferently. No, [frviv^ \ you did not speak, but in place of words yo»r face, your sileno' •teel/ FROU FROU. 87 leemeJ to utter the fears that troubled you then, and to show me tbe danger that threatened. [PvMing her hand on his shoulder. Sar Yes, that was two months ago, but since those two months— Gil Since then — Sar Louise has been here. Gil Louise ! Sar All the danger has disappeared ; and now if it should please Frou Frou to be more Frou Frou than ever, the harm would not be Tery great, since in your place Louise does everything. Gil And how if I wished to attend myself to those things which my sister takes such good care of ? Sar What an idea, now that everything is working so smoothly and safely. Gil You think everything is safe ? Sar Look around you, my dear Gilberte, and tell me if you ever saw a house better governed than ours since Louise has taken control. See what care she takes of Georgie, and how well she is bringing up the child ; and even I my?elf, have you not noticed that since Louise has been here I have acquired a certain air of content? Gil [Earnestly.'] But if I really wished — if I were really resolved to become better and wiser, and to govern myself ? Sar Your zeal is too praiseworthy not to be encouraged, and I will encourage it by all the means in my power, but — Gil But what ? Sar But if, despite your resolution and ray encouragement, thif ardor should die out. and at the end of a week, or say a fortnight, my little Gilberte bc'X)me3 wearied, don't consider yourself bound to continue ! Return as fast as you please to your pleasures, your tri umphs, and your gaieties ; neither my face nor my silence shall re proach you, and I shall be content to remain the husband of the prettiest darling and most adored Httle wife in the world. Gil [Rising and opeaking quieilt/.] That appointment which was oflfered you, and which you refused on my account ? Sar No, I can not go there now. Uovernment might have felt hurt at my refusal, but on the contrary, I have been treated with marked kindness, and I have now in Paris a position almost equivalent to the other. All's well that ends well, and ho you see, you really nave not as much to reproach yourself with as ) ou thought. Gil [LooKs dt him peculiarly for a second npd tJien goes to chair n. of sman table.'] ^IKd'hl really see is, that all my beautifui projects are rejected. Sar Oil. I give you full credit for them. Gil iJurcast'ically.] Really. Serf iGoing to lier.] And I wish to rewar<^ you fo' th^w. That span «»^ hoJ-^es you liked so mr.ch, and which 1 tbeughv so expensive. f>Tuin;?, daughter. Sar Ah, M. ?p^fiTL i 18 KROU FROU. Brig Good morning, my dear boy. Sar You have come just in time. Gilberte is a little nerrous. and fou know liov7 to put her in good iiumor. Brig [To Gilberte.] Nervous ! Now really. Gil Good morniag, father. Brig Oh, it won't last ! You must do me a particular favor daugh- ter. The other day when you were skating in the Park, you wore a new kind of cap — and Madame de Laurens, who sawycu in it, wants one just like it. I promised to get the pattern for her ! I knew yoa wouldn't refuse me, your father, and so I promised her. [GiLBEBTB rings bdl on table. You really will ? Gil I will give orders to have it brought to you. Brig That's an angel Enter Pauline, l. 1 b. Gilberte whispers to her. Brigard takes Sar- TORTS down R. H. corner. Brig [Aside to 8 ab.tob.y9.] Hum! my boy, don't mention Madame de Laurens or the cap, to any one outside. I'll do as much for you. [Pokes him in the side. Sar [Gravdf/.] As you wish. [They go ttp. Pauline exits l. 1 e. Gilberte crosses to sofa r., and sits. Sar [To Brigard.] I'll leave you with Gilberte, do try and restore her spirits. T don't know what it is affects her to-day. Brig All right, my dear boy. [Goes to nvintel L., and arranges his hair before glass. Sar [7b Gilberte.] So that span of horses ? Gil No, no 1 How many times must I tell you? Sar [Smiling gaily.] Well, then, you know I am a positive man, and .fhether you want them or not, you shall have them. [Goes to Brigard c. , and whispers. Brig She won't have a span? then give her a four-in-hand. Sartorys exits c and l. laughing. Gil [At,jde, feelinjl^'.] When I want to come back to him and be really aiiO ^ruly his wife, that is how he treats me. Brig [Crossing to piano ] Do you know, my love, your husband is a very nice fe^Jow ? Gj,l After &i\ he is right. Louise is here. I am not needed any more ? He s^-vaks to me as if I were a child. Brig [Touchii:^- tlie piano.] Very nice fellow ! Very nice! [Gilbertb hursts into tears. Ruing in astonishment and comijig round to her.] What, tears? What dv\».s this mean, Gilberte? Gil [Turning fr^\n him.] Nothing, father, nothing! Brig Nothing feoious has happened, I hope ! And even if it be. am I not here, I, ^n jr father ? Gil [BiUerlg.] Oh, jes ! Brig "Oh, yes!" What do you mean by "Oh. yes?" I know that now and then 1 .t\ay seem to be a little — and then my hair isn't — cc'ifound it but tLv. doesn' t prevnt my being your father after alL FKOU FROU. 89 Enter Pauline, l. 1 e., with cap. And as your father, I — Pau Is thia what you wished, Madame ? €Hl What's that? Yes that's it. [Takes it, and hands it to her father^ and hand holding handkerchief to her eyes.] That is what you asked for t Brig [Taking the cap, but embarrassed ] Being your father as I said — yes. [Looking at cap.] That's it ! Being your father as I said — GU Well, what more do you wish ? Brig Nothing, but— Gil [Smiling in spite of hersel'.] But what ? Brig Well, that's not the point now. [Giving cap to Pauline. ] Ha\e this taken to my carriage. [Exit Pauline, c. and l.] Deuce take me, it shan't be said I haven't done my duty once in my life ! Come now, daughter, tell me why you were crying a while ago. Gil For nothing, father. Brig For nothing? Gil Yes, you know there are times when we feel so. [Sits o. Brig Yes, there are moments ! I feel that way myself sometimes. But tell me ; there is something serious in all this, and the affection I have for you — you don't douljt my affection I hope, and if you have need of a protector, you wouldn't hesitate to fly to my paternal ; eh ? And those tears — your nerves ; eh? Ob, yes, that's it, nerves! I was sure of it ! Just my way ! We needn't worry any more about it. And now, let's speak of Louise ; I might as well attend to her case, now that I am started on family topics. [Sits beside Gilberte. GU [Quickly.] Louise ! Brig [Being uncomfortable in chair c, goes to r. and sits in arm-chair.] Yes, Monsieur de Villaroel comes here pretty often, don't he? I may Bay very often. Gil [Smiling.] Well, yes. Brig And you never suspected? Gil What could I have suspected ? Brig Well, I didn't puspect either. I have two daughters, and 1 should once in a while suppose that once in a while some one might fall in love with one as well as the other. And that's exactly what has occurred. T have just received a visit from M. de Villaroel, and the reason why he called here so often was —Louise. Gil For Louise ? He proposed for her ? [Ris^cs and goes to BRiGARi>. Brig Yes, he loves her, and asks her hand. Gil [Sitting on ^ViiQhBi>% knee.] Oli, you dear, good papa ! you can't imagine how happy this news has made me. 'There can be no reason for refusing such an offer. Have you spoken to Louise yet ? Brig No, not yet. I would have done so had she been here — and most likely she would have answered me as she has always done— that she don't want to marry. Gil [Rising andjirmly.] She must not answer that now. Brig No, certainly not. She must not ! Strange woman your sis- ter — eh ? How she dislikes going into society; and her determinatioo 10 FROU FROTJ. not U. marry. Do you know what I think, Gilberte ? Louise muil have loved some one once. Gil [Deeply moved and turning awar/.] You think so ? Brig She mu«t once have dreamed of a happiness of which we know nothing, and which she has lost. Gil [Turning suddenly.] Fatlier! Brifji [Rising abnip'dy and looking at his watch.] Well, just turn it over m your mind and see if it doesn't seem probable. [Goes to gliss. takes his hat up and arranges his htdr. Gil But, father— [FoKows him to o. Brig You can easily find out all about it. Between women, espe- cially betneen sisters, things may be said which — there, there you must question her. Say to her, too, that M. de Vallaroel is a charming gentleman, high estate, plenty of money, no vices— and the must positively consent to marry him. Gil [Resolutely.] Oh, as for that ! [Shaking her head with determination. Brig You will do all you can to make her consent? Gil [Firmly.] Yes, everything in the world — and she shall consent. Brig [c] Well, that's fixed. Since you take it in hand there's no Qeed of my bothering about it. [Gilberte smiles.] There, you are emilinfc again ! It does me good to see that ! But when I see you cry as you did a little while ago — I feel— there, there ! you must not be unhappy, Gilberte I you must not ! Do you know that if you took it Into your head to be unhappy I should be an abominable father ? But you won't, will you ? [One arm around her waist while he arranges his shirt bosom with the o.-her.] You love your paternal parent too much ! You will be happy, u not for your own sake, at least for your dear father's sake. [Kissing her.] Yen promise me, don't you? Good-by. Don't forget to talk to your sister as soon as she comes in [About to go.] Ah, what did I do with that cap ? Oh, I remember, it's in my carriage. Tah, tah, Frou Frou ! [Exits c. and l. Gil [Solus c.] She will not refuse this time ! She can not refuse ! But if she should ? If she will not leave us — if she will still remain between me and my happiness ? What shall I do then ? Who will save me from the wretchedness, the fate, to which they drive me. I have no husband, no father, to whom I can turn ! Ah ! my child, my child is left me. He is there and near him I can be strong Enter Vincent, c. from l. GU What is it? l^in [Smding meaningly.] Monsieur de Valreas — [Gilberte storte.] He deaires to know if Madame— Gil Valreas I will not — [Sees Vincent .swu'fc and look at her in a manner of peculiar inquiry.] Show in M. de Valreas, and tell Pauline to dreai Georgie immediately and bring him to me : I will take him out for a walk. Enter Valueas c. from l. Vincent exits, c. and L. Gilberte tum» harshly to VALiiE.*.s, loho comes forward a single step. Do you know why I consent to receive you ? Because that servaijt FEOU FROU. 41 ttood there mid seemed to question why I close my doors against jou. Vol [All earnetness.] 1 have but a few words to say. Gil So much the better, iov I have but a few moments to Bpare. [Pauses.] Why have you come here after that letter which I wrote fou? Could you not understand that we must meet no more? Val In that letter you ordered me to leave Paris. Gd Well? l^al I leave to-night. Did I not tell you so ? Gil [More harshly.'] I know very well you told me so, but what proof have I ? VaL You have no right to doubt me. To you I never spoke any- thing but the truth. Gil [Softening.] Very well — you will go. I wish it. You should have gone without trying to see me. Val I could not. Gil [Hnrshly again.] You could not? Val You must not ask too much ? Think of what I was, and what I am. Who would recognize me ? I would have laughed at any one who would have predicted that I — one day, would feel as I felt after reading your letter. At first I thought 1 would be strong— leave Paris without seeing, without speaking to you. Gil That is what you should have done. Val I did not have the courage. After a few moments this enthu- siasm left nie — I could think of but one thing — That I was to be sep- arated from you ; it overcame me ! I thouuht that if you had the right to ask such a j-acrifice of me, I had the right to ask of you a few words at parting ; a few words that would give me strength to obey you. Gil Well, I— Enter Pauline, l. 1 e. Pau Madame — Gil [With a jojiful cry.] Ah, Georgie ! Bring him to me at once. Pau But, Madame— Gil [To Valreas, interriipHmj Pauline.] I have no time to spare. T am going out ; you understand, 1 am going out with my son. Pau Master Georgie is not here, Madame. Gil [Aghad.] Not here? Paxi No, Madame. Mademoiselle Louise took him with her when she went out. Gil [ Violently.] Louise ! [Trying to calm henelf.] Very well, Pauline-- since Mademoiselle Louise has taken him out, that will do. [Exit Pauline, l. 1 e Gilberte si7iks into a chair, l.] Not even my child ii» left. She has taken from me everything. Val iTremhliiig and coming a step toicard her.] Gilberte! Gil [Turning pleadingly to him.] Oh, you will go, will you not? You mnst go now, more than ever. Swear to me you will go. You kno'.v' that 1 du not love you, that I will never love you. You should know it — and you love me ; thr.t is why you must lly me ! Under- stand me well ; if I were frivclous, coquettish, as they have Raid, ana bad at heart, I would keep you near me to laugh at your sufferings! €2 FROU FBOU. Many women would do this, but I will not. You will go — you will forget me — you must — [Valrbas turns from her.'] but not too quickly . Val [Turning and taking her hand.'] Oh, Gilberte ! Gilberte ! Gil {'Withdrawing her hand.] To-night! You will depart to-night! Enter ^XRTOKYS, c. from jj. Yalreas faces him. Gilberte turns away Sar You here, my dear Paul ? They did not tell me. Gil M. de Valreas comes to make his adieux. He leaves Paris to-night. Sar Not for long, I hope. Paris will not be consoled. [Offering his hand.] Hope to see you back soon. [Crosses to arm-chair near l. 'Val Thanks. [Bowing to Gilberts ] Madame ! Gil [c] Farewell. [Exit Valrv:as c. and l.] I have done my duty, let me see if the others will do theirs. [Aside. Sar [In chuir l.] Well, my dear Gilberte, did your father succeed in enlivening you a little ? Gil [Going up and towards n.] What my father said tome was not precisely of a nature to— [Ijeans over the hack of Sartor ys' chair, and as he looks up at her, she looks him full in the face, and says.] Louise is about to leave us. Sar [Starting abruptly.] What ? [Pause. Gil [Coldly.] M de Villaroel has asked her band in marriage, and she will become his wife. Sar r Ver-i/ quickly.] It is impossible. Gil [Coldly.] What do you mean? A moment ago you made a strange movement, and now you have uttered a still stranger remark. Sar [Recovering] I acknowledge, that at first I could not avoid a feeling of selfisliness ; I was so sure Louise would never leave us. But I was in the wrong, and I regret it. Gil Then you will speak to her when she comes in ? Sar [Quickly ] Speak to her ? Then nothing is decided yet ? Gil No. Louise as yet knows nothing. Sar Does it not seem to you that you would be better able to— Gil \c.] I '! What have I to do with serious things ? Do I under- stand them, I, Frou Frou? Now if it were to talk about a new toilette with Madame de Lussy. [TVirows herself into sofa and doubles herself up like a little girl in a pet.] I will not speak to her. You must do it ; and if I have any advice to give you, it is— speak to her sc that you will decide her to go. [Markedly spoken. Sar [Astonished at her tone.] How ! Enter Louise, c. from l. Gilberte during the ensuing svene is imTuovalle, except now ant then to look at Louise. Louise, a^she enters, takes chair C. and commences to take off her hat, gloves, &c. Lame I have sjen IMadame de Lussy, and I have seen the new gov- erness. She is a very nice person, and will come to us in a few days. [7b Sartorys.] And you — Snr [Gravely.] I have seen about the purchase. Rut we have soin©- thing more serious to speak of now. Louisf More serious ! For me ? FKOU FROU. 41 Sar Yes. A maniage ! Louise What— again ? Sar Tais time M. de Villaroel. [Pavae.'\ Ah, you don't say what, fco that, I notice. Louise Well, M. de Villaroel is one of the most distinguished men of the age. I should of course feel a little pride at his asking for my hand, trnd I do— and a great deal of joy, too ! Gil [Interested.] Ah! Lmis" [Casing off her cloak or mantel.} Yes, a great deal of joy ; for when it is known I have refused to marry a man like him, it will be fully undersfood that I will marry no one, and then I hope they will leave me alone. Sar You refuse .' L-^niise Certainly 1 refuse. {Goinrf near lim at table and sitting.] Re- member, two months ago I would not come here, but you insisted on it. So much the worse for you ; for now that I am here, I mean to stay. [Laughingly. Sar But let us look at it in the proper light. LouisK [Rising and speaking mfh erioion.] Unless you are displeased with me, both of you ; unless those duties which you call wearisome, and which you give into my charge, have not been well performed — Unless you tell me that in staying here I am useless for your comfort or your happiness Sar [Crossing to her ] No, Louise —but this has nothing to do with our happiness. It is of yours I si^eak. Loui e Of mine ? Sar Of yours. Louif^e Ihen let me stoy with you two, if you wish to make me hap- py, because I can not be happy if I am not here. Woman* s character, to be complete, has two sides ; one U all youth, grace and pleasure — [Indicating Gil-ert*-;.] that is hers. The other, which h all gravity and busy employment, is the ono v/liich pleases rae the most. This side, necessary, hut ungra^nov-'s, which you as^ed of me as a duty, I now ask of you as my happiness. Besides, if you suouM send mo away now, I would not go. Sar \Crossing to Gilberts.] You hear what she says ? Gil Yes. Sar You know as well as I that when she makes up her mind, it ig useless [Laughs. Louise [Gaib/.] Altogether useless. Sar [To Gilbektk.] Still, if you would like to try yourself. Gil [Shortly, and putting hrr feet to floor.] Yes, I will try. Sar [c, to Louise, and taking her hand] I don't change my opinion, my dear Louise, and I think you ought to consent. But you give me Bo much pleasure by your refusal, that I have not the heart to insist further. Not now, at least. LoiMe Nob now, and ne\'«r. Sar [Pressing her hands, and gently.] You will repent when the right one comes U FROU FROU. lauise You know very well that ivhat I say to-day I shall Bhf always. [Exit Sartorts, I-. 1 R. Music pp till Gilberte speaks. Louise goes np ioivards c. to exit, but is intercepted by Gilberte who has risen and passinq behind the piano comes face to face with her. Gil Where are you going? Louise To get abook that Georgie asked me for ; it is in your rooi:;,. (jil [Resol.itely.] Geargie will wait ''or his book. [Louisb steps bacf- astoni-^hed at the tone and look of Gilberte, leaving her in c. Lodisb l. 0. below Gilberte. You refuse this marriage which is offered you ? Louise Yes, I refuse. • Gil [Smiling sarcadtcally.'] And is it that you may continue to watch over our happiness that you do so ? Louise Gilberte ! [Shrinking back a step. Gil [Trying to suppress anger.] A worthy reason. [Advancing a step.'] And I ought to thank you for it. But what I have to blame you for is, that you have not equally divided your attentions in this house- hold between my husband and me. And for having bestowed them more cheerfully on one than on the other. Loui'-e [Putting d-non things ] Sister, what do you mean ? Gil [Bitter/y.] That you have lavished your caro upon my husband, upon my child, but me you have neglected. And there you were wrong, because, had you looked around you, you would have seen that of all the dan'^ers which threaten this home that you wished to preserve so much, the gravest of all might strike it through me. Louise I do not understand. Gil [Rapidly.] Do you not? Within this hour M. de Valreas was here at my side swoaring that he loved me. [Louise starts in fear.] I told him that I loved him not. Louise [DreitLless.] Well? Gil It was false ; I love him. Louise And yoa confess it ? Gil [Sarcastically.] This, then, my sister, is something which you did not see with all your c.ire, and it is what you should have seen before everything if you had performed well that duty which you accepted at such heroic cost. [Louise about to speak. Gilberte waves her to silence.] But I supi)ose that the absorbing attention you be- stowed on one side hindered you from watching the other. Louise [Cjldbf.] What you wish to tell me is that you love Valreas —is that it? Gil Two mouths ago there was no such thing ; but within those two inonths many things have passed. That love has had time for birth and growth ! What at lirst was but a jest has become a dangei —a danger so great that when I saw you had no thought of me, to saving me, I tried to save myself. My husband, my child, I tried to return to them. But my child was no longer mine; you had come between us. L(Mise I will go, Gilberte. Gil You have estranged my child, and for my nusl»and — Louise Your husband ! FROU FROU. 4ft Od "When I saw you jast now beside him, I recalled the past—my •uspicions of other times and my suspicions to-day. Louise Your suspicions ? Gil Do not forcj mc- to say what I do not wish. Louise Say it! Speak the words which burn on your lips — that nr years ag© I loved your husband — is that it ? ^Til You dare speali of it ? Louisf Yes, I did love him, but it was you that he loved, and, be- lieving that your happiness depended upon his love, I took your hand myself, and placed it in his, and that nothing should hinder your consjnt to that marriage I pretended to be glad, and yet, at that very moment, I sacriticed my heart for you— for 1 loved him! I loved him ! Gil [Sarcastically. '\ And, by the next day, I suppose, your love had vanished. Louise Not so. I suffered long, and perhaps my sufferings and sacrifice merited another recompense than this. You have forgotten your repeated efforts to make me come and live with you, and the surprise that my refusal caused you. You have forgotten that I did refuse to come. Gil [Sternly.] But you finished by consenting. Louise Because I had conquered myself ; because I was sure I no longer loved him. Gil [Bitterly.'] Indeed! Was it not rather because you thought the moment better chosen ? Louise Gilberte, you shall not speUc to me so. Gil [Ccimmandingly.] It is the truth. Louise Gilberte ! Sister I Was it not you who wished me — Gd Ah, you knew well how to make me wish wliat you desired most ; you are wise, my sister, and I was but a child in your hands. You knew well what you were doing after you had married us— after you had sacrificed yourself for us - since you knew one instant would suffice for you to regain all that you boast you have given me, since now lie is yours. Louise [Terrified.] Gilbert, I will go I will leave you. Gil Another sacrifice still. No ! It is not you this time who will go. Louise Wliat mean you ? Gil Heaven is my witness that I was sincere in my effort to resist, to defend myself; but I am not strong enough for a lifetinie of sacli efforts. Louise \ Motionless with horror.] What are you about to do? Gil [Going up c] I acknowledge that I am conquered ! Take my place ! I give it tj you Louise Where are you going ? Gil Ask me nothing. Louise Gilberte ! Gil [In 0. doors, tarns and faces Louise and speaks furiously.] Hus- band, child, everything you have taken from me ! Keep them welli [Closes the doors. 46 FROU FROU Loms4 [Runrdng to door and hea/iiy against it.] Gilberte ! Oilbcrte 1 ACT DKOP. ACT IV. SCENE. — The palace of the Barberini, at Venice. An ancient interior. The arched balcony and columned entrance is seen at the L. , occupying the gtcigt to M grooves. The entran".e from the canals is through the arch l. c. The aitrayice and exit for interior is l. 1 e. The cuial, and view of Venice under a fall sunset light, is seen upon the n. up stxge, and through the bd- cony off L. Stage down r. for 2 entrances. Garden, r. ii. Garden sofa, L. H. 1 rustic chiir l. of table, and 1 up stage. Zanetto discovered leaning out of bahong l. c. , listening to Bircarole, which is being sung bij a party passing in gondol I at back. After Barcarole, enter Paulin'e, l. 1 e. Pauline Zanetto ! Ah ! thera you ars, as lazy as ever ! Goin--', stir your idle Italian leg^. Madame wants you to run to the loJgmg^ of the Count, and tell him she will expect him at tea. [Sezinj t 'lat he doesn't stir.'] Come, wake up — look lively— run ! Zxnetto Run? Whoever saw Zinett.^ run? It's not my business to run of errands. Pau It isn't ? What is your business then ? Zin My business is to carry with grace the costume of the natives gondolier of sunny Italy ; to sing the national airs, and to eat, drink and be merry, like a true sunny Italiin. Nevertheless, to oblige Madame, I will carry the message to Monsieur de Valreas. Pau I thought you would, since he gives its value in gold for every message you bring him. Zan [Coming down c] Ah ! we descendants of sunny Italy are very poor, and the Count is very liberal. Not so liberal as yonv lady, though. See how beautifully she has fitted up this old [..ilace. Pau Yes ; and she's only been hero six weeks, to do \t all. But it cost her a deal of money to make your dirty old palace Pc to live in. Zan Money ! I believe you. And talking of moncjy [ P-Jls paper out cf his pocket.] look at this. Fau What's that? One of your Italian lov«- Krr,fo, djdicated to me? [Taking paper.] Ztn No ; it's a little bill, dedicated to year 'iJy. And here's another They amount to 2000 francs ; not ry.ncY. foe sr.ch a princess as your lady, but a fortune for us poor sons o'i '■rijoj Icaly. Pau [Taking bills.] All right, my sunny I'ar.r.n. And now go. Zan I'll fly. [Aside.] No doubt I'll n.e.<( '.V. Coi'.nt on the way here. I always do. And of course he'li ///j r,s much for half the distance as th-i whole ' i .SrirPsrs oij lazily l. o. Pau Well, I've heard of romantic Ita^/■, ?M .oniaatio Venice ; but when they send in Ihoir bills, where's ^r.e .omance ? Ah ! [Looking at bill.] 2,000 there, and 2,000 here. -iTaJ more thousands, again [Taking other bills from pocket.] make a pw/.tj '.idy gum for somebody t^ Mttle FROU FROU. 47 GiLBERTE enters from l. 1 B Gil You sent my 'uessage, Pauline ? Pan Zauetto has just gone, Madame. [Pauline hidesbiUs hehindher.\ I must speak to her of these thini^s, some time. Gil What are you hiding there.'' What pap&ra are those? Pau Me ! oh ! these — [Looking at bills.] these — these are— bills, Madame. Gil Bills ? Pau I did not want to worry you, Madame ; but the tradespeople have asked tor money. Gil Money ? Sure ; I had not thought of that. Give them to me. And sc; I am in debt. Don't be afraid, Pauline ; they shall be paid [Goes up to window. Enter Zanetto l. c with newspaper and a Ittter. Zan I just got thei>e from the postman ; and I thought I'd better l>ring them in. [Gives them to Pauline. Pau [Aside to Zanetto.] Why didn't you go with your message to Monsieur Valreas ? [Zanetto winks, points to l. 4 e. , and shows monei/ in hiji hand, and then goes off, L. 1 E. Pauline gioes letter to Gilberte, who opens and reads.'\ Gil Ah ! from the doctor. [Taen leam her head on her hand at tahle. Favline puts pr/per on table. Pau [Timidly, after a pause.] Pardon, Madame! — Madame said the letter was from the doctor ? Gd [Moved] And you wisli to know what he says? Ah ! kind Pauline. Pau Little Georgie— Madame? Gil He is better. The news is good ; very good, Pau I am so glad, Madame, that the news is good. Gil [Kissing the letter.] Yes ; he is better ; and [ With an effort to conced feeling.] his father, who, for a month past, was thought to be in dan- ger — is saved. That, toj, is what you wished to know, is it not? Pau Yes ; Madame. [Gilberte buries her liead in her hands. Pauline, with a pitying glance^ exits quietly, L. 1 E.] Gil [After a pause.] One moment of anger, and this is what it hafl brought me. [Rises.] Well, it is too late now. Enter Valreas, l, c. Vol Gilberte ! [Puis his hat on chair, and takes her hand, without mthtmcum, Gil [Eagerly.] Valreas ! Enter Zanetto, l. 1 e., unth tea service, which he places on tabU E. Vol [Taking off his gloves.] I am a little late. Gil Now that you are here? Zan Your excellencies are served. 48 FROU FROU. fifti That will do. Go. [fi^jY Zanetto, l. 1 e.] Come. [7b Valrbas. Oou to table an i begins to serve im.] Val But you ought to know the reason ; for of course there must be a renson. Git [Pauses as she pours out tea.] A reason ? Val Yes ; iny mother has been here these three days. ijril [Sadli/. Laying down tea-pot] Ah, yes ! I knew. Val Sitting at table.] You knew? Gil For three days you have come late, like to-day. It was the first time, and you seemed strange. I could not tell why ; and so, when you left me yesterday — Vcl Yestenlay? Gil {Tri/inj to smile.] Why, a vailed lady in a gondola followed a young gentleman who stepped into another gondola — nothing more natural, in Venice, you know? And that is how I discovered [Her voice trembling.] that your mother was here. [Turning from him— face to front. Val [Leaning over table.] And you did not speak to me about her? Gil [Huskily.] I did not dare. I was afraid. Val [Smiling.] Afraid? Gil Going to him.] Yes ; but I don't feel afraid now, for you smile, and that reassures me. Val But why should you fear ? Gil [Sinking on stool beside him.] She hates me, does she not? Val My mother loves me too much to hate any one — [Slops. Gil [Looking into /.is face, and taking his hands in hers.] Any one who ^-ves you. Why do you not siy it ? Val [Kindb/.] Any one who loves me. There. Gil [Breitldessly.] But she would separate us? Vol She is going to pass part of the winter at Rome. She wanted D e to accompany her ; so she said. Gil [Same.] And you ? Vol Could you doubt me ? My mother leaves to-morrow ; and she goes alone. Gil Alone ? Do not the Baron and Baroness de Cambri go with her? Val Ah ! you know that they— Gil Yes ; I know they are here. [Sadly.] Why should I conceal It ? T had hoped the Baroness would have come to see me. [Hangs her head. Val [Tenderly.] Gilberte! GH [With warm emotion, hut not loudly.] What matters it? What oifctters if they all turn from me, so that you remain? All my life la In your hands, now. I ought to remember that ; and — and— [Tears.] f Til! \.p: liappy so long as you do not fori^et me. Val iFretful/y.] Why do you speak ^o? You know that I will U9 *&T forget — :!}l [Brushing away her te:irs.] Yes ; I know — I know. [Intrvx's his side and returns to tibfe as Z.a netto c«fers with dish of fnui^ which he places on tille. AS. : FROU FROU. 49 Vai Zanetto, give me the newspapers. Zan Here's the Figaro, excellency. [Hands paper, and after fumbling about table far a hit, and observing thai neither speak while he is present.'] Zan The sunny Italian is evidently not wanted. \Exits l. \ b. Val It feels like home again, to read a Paris paper. HaUoa i first night at the Palais Royale. Commences at 8. Gil [Smiling.'] We shan't be in time. Val No ; we're rather far off, in the first place — and then the paper IB three days old. Gil [Rising and leaning over his shoulder.] And what was the news, three days ago ? 'Fat Let me see ; Isthmus of Suez — visit of the Empress— the rain has played the deuce with the crops. That's not interesting. GU Not very. And what else ? Val More isthmus — more — ah ! here are the theaters. Gil Ah ! how I used to love them. What are they playing? Val " The Last Day of Happiness," um ! "A Wife's Honor," at theOdeon, um! "Patrie," at the Porte St. Martin. Ah! [Sighs.] Gil [Trying to conceal her feelings.] A new opera by Yerdi, at the Italiens — Val And at the Gymnase. Ah ! Gilberte. [Looks up from paper. Their eyes meet. Gil [Hands on the hack of his chair.] Paul. [Both remain silent for a moment. The paper falls to his feet ; and he speaks in a voise grajDt-and sad.] Val What are you thinking of, Gilberte? Gil You are not sorry for all this ? Val Gilberte ! GU Say you are not sorry. Vcd [Throwing off his gravity and putting his arm about her waitt a» thi ytands heside himA Why, certainly not ? Gil And you love me still, do you not ? Enter Pauline, l. c. Well, what is it, Pauline ? Pau Th'* Baron de Cambri, Madame ; and the Baroness. Gil [With joy, and making step towards door.] Ah ! [The Baroness enters, and the two embrace long and lovingly. Bar V.J darling child ! GV [Through her tears.] It was so good of you to come. F.'ness [Taking her towards sofa, l.] At first the Baron would not eosne with me ; but I ran away, and here I am. [They sit on sofa, their arms about each other. Enter Baron, l. c. , first putting in his head. Barcm Ha ! I thought better of it, and so /came. Val Ah ! my dear Cambri. [They shake hands. Barm I say I thought better of it. My wife wanted to come alone; but I always make it a point, when ray wife wants to go anywhere at FROU FROU. alone, to come after her directly. It is a good deal of trouble, physi- cally, but it makes my mind easy. When you are married, follow my example. Motto for husbands : Be attentive, and you will be happy. Val You see, Madame. [Bakon hows to Gilbertb. B'ness Take him away with you, Valreas. He is always in the way. Baron My love, that's my way. But I say, Valreas, [bringing him down R. a , and speaking in a low tone.'] Sartorys is here. Val [Starting.] Sartorys! [Fame; then suppressing emotion, and taking Karon's hajid.] I see. You have permitted your wife to come here, «o that if anything should happen, Gilberte would not be left alone. Baron Exactly ! Vd [Aside.] Poor Gilberte ! Baron You don't seem very happy. You must have known, of course, that he'd come some time. Human nature, yon know ; human nature. Val There are some things which we are bound to expect, and yet which seem to be always far ofif ; [Smiling.] and death is one of them. [Goes towards ladies. Baron [Aside.] " And death is one of them." Any man who talks in such a tone of voice as that, is sure to be popped over at the first shot. Val [To ladies, smiling.] You have much to say to each other, I suppose ? B'ness Indeed, we have. Vol [Taking his hxit.] We will go, if you like, and leave you to chat a little. GU [Tmderly.] You will return soon ? VcH Oh, yes ! The Baron will come back after Madame, and I will 'etum with him. Baron [Aside. Going up.] Yes ; if Sartorys don't finish him. B'ness Don't be long. Val Oh, expect us soon. [Bofws, and turns to Babon, aside.] Will the Baroness tell her ? Baron [Same.] The Baroness don't know that Sartorys is here. Val [Returning to Gilberte, and taking her hand over back of sofa and kissing it.] Farewell, Gilberte. [With de^ emotion. GU Until we meet again ? Val Until we meet again. [Exits l. o. Baron [Aside and foUoming him.] ** Until we meet again." If tha* young man don't shoot quicker than he talks, he's a goner. [Exits after Valreaj. GU [lb Baroness.] Tell me everything. Everything that has passed. B'ness At Paris ? GU Georgie ! My child ! B'ness He is much better. I saw him in the park. GU You have seen him ? B'ness Yes ; with his governess. I kissed him once for myself, and I dcMi't knciw how many times for yoa. FROU FROU. M GU [Pressing her hand silently, and turning away for an trostant.] Thanks ! Uianks! And— Louise? B'ness She has gone back to her father's. She went hack after it was certain that M. Sart— [C/iecfa herself.] after the doctors declared hhn out of danger. She and her father have returned to the old house at Charmarettes. , -, ^r^ i Gil [Sadbj.] Charmarettes! [To herself with a stifled sigh.] Home! B'ness Yes. Gil [After a pause] And me ? Do they speak of me ? B'ness Not a word. Gil Am I wholly forgotten ? B'ness Why, you know, my dear— after six weeks! Of course, for the first fortnight every one had something to say. But don't be afraid ; every one took your part. And when Sartorys' lawyer told all Paris how you had sent to him the deeds conveying your entire dowry— two millions, I believe- to little Georgie-well, after that, nothing was heard against you. The severest among our sex began to plead your cause. Ah ! such courage is a line thing, my dear, and precious rare, too. ,,,.., , o GU [In half tones.] Then I am not overwhelmed with reproaghes ? B'ness Reproaches, my dear ! They know that you are happy, and you are^very much envied. Gil [Drooping her head.] Happy? B'ness Of course you are happy ! r, . i , i. Gil Yes ; I am happy. [ With a sort of terror] What would become of me if I were not? , ^ ^ [They rise. B'ness Do you know that you have an elegant place— this old palace ? [Looking off, through her gla. I Whispers in Gilberte's ear, and poinis towards C, door. Gubbete lalj staggers aga.nst table] O [To Baroness.] Go— I beseech you. B'ness Who is it ? , r^ ^ *..,i t GU [Pdniingtodooi-j..] Quick I Entc there. Do not come till 1 mil you. •I FKOU FROQ iTn^jfs [A» if comprehending.'] Gilberte ! My dear Gilberte ! GU [In her'anns.] You will not leave me ? [With tone of terror, jnd quicJdf/.] I may have need of you. Promise me ! B'ness I promise you. [3Iusic till SARTORrs enters. [Kisses her, and exits l. Gilberte motions Pauline to retire, who goes of door L. GixJmcRTV, stands cleaning againd table; her face up stag f, iaicards Sartorys. who enters l. c. very pale, and frightfully changed.] Gil [As if shrinking from an apparition.'] You ? Sar I. GU I knew that you had been very, very sick; that you were almost— Sar Yes, they told me that I was bo ill, I must not hope. But yon lee I am not dead. When sufficient of my strength returned to me, dw I had some business to •conclude with you, I came. Qil r-ome business — with me ? Sar Yea, about — [He braces himself against bade of chair. Gilberte goes towards him ; he recovers hm'ielf tvith emotion.] 'Tis nothing. I beg your pardon. I am still very— very- -my throat is on fire — water — ^I can hardly speak — Gil Water ? [Goes to table, poitrf water in one of the glasses, and brings to Sartoris, who, noticing the doubh set on the table, points to them and refuses to take !he glass. Gilberte, in despa-^^ staggers back to table and sets down the glass.] Heaven help me ! Sar It was about your dowry. GU My dowry ? [^(kirning towards him again. Sar Yes, the money which you have sent to Paris. You must take it back again. I will not leave you exposed to — Gil I have already said— I do not need it ! Sar I know, I know, but you must. GU No, I will take nothing— Sar Will you then force me to give you another reason. [Gilberts looks at him with frightened countenance.] I do not wish my son ever to touch one cent of that money. I will not have it, you understand ? Gil [Sinks into chair ] Yes. Sar And so that no one else should be compelled to tell you, 1 have come myself ; and I leave you this. \La7/s large envelope, heavily sealed, on table beside her and takes one step towards door.] GU You are going ? Sar Yes, now that everything is terminated — 'ril [ With mddm recollection.] Vaireas. You are going to fight him ? Sar Yes ! You expected it, did you not? And I swear to you, it 1 had had the strength to come sooner — Gil [c] You, you fight, and for me? For me ? [Hysiericcd laugh.] Frou Frou ! Think of it— Frou Frou means frivolity, trifles, dr'^sses. What fearful fate, is it, then, which throws me amongst things so terri- ble as bloodshed and death. [He starts toward door ; she itops him by run- mng before and throwing herself at his knees, clamping her hands before him!] 7du Bha^liptot fight ! What ! a man like you to risk a precious life, FROU FROU. M and for a woman like me? [TearfuUj/.] There must be some othei way to satisfy your honor. Sar [Bitterly.] My honor! Gil The world, no matter what you may do, can never doubt your courage ! Sar You are mistaken if you believe it is of my honor 1 think now, or that I have troubled myself one instant with what the world has thought of your fault or what it may think of my vengeance. I am not a husband who comes to kill the lover of his wife ! I loved you — you have betrayed me because you love another — and I shall try to kill that other — that is all. [Goes toward door. Gil No, no, I alone am guilty. Crush me, but me alone. [Takes his hand— he tries to release himself. Sar Leave me Gil What vengeance do you want ? I dare not speak of death for aayself— I would not have the courage to die — but there are convents —close by there is one — take me there— I will go gladly — ^let its (^tes close upon me and never again shall you hear of the woman -4 ho has offended you. Sar [Still struggling to get away.] I told you — Gil Is that not enough ?— Think of some other punishment — any- thing — but do not condemn me to live with the horrible thought that a man has died through me ! Sar [Trylng'to unclasp Gilberie's ^n^ers.] All this is useless Gil Mercy! Sar No ! Gil Henri ! Sar Call me not ! GU Do not go — I will be your slave — I will love you ! &fr Wretch! [Bridies her j she faints, still holding his hand; he drags her a few steps, tUU trying to open her fingers ; when he does, she falls across a chair at back ; Sab- TOBYiA starts to go out ; at back he stops, comes back, looks at Gilbeetb a few mnUits as if demmted and Baeoness enters ; Saktoeys, tvitkout saying a wordf points tc Gilbeete and exits. Curtain ACT V. SCENE.- -Same as Act 2d, but seemingly neglected; no fiowers ; no music on mmo ; a lighted lamp on small table ; doors closed; the picture of Feou Frou, which always stood on the easel, is eovered with a white cloth. The GovEENESS and Geoegie discovered seated near the table, r. Sta('3 half dark. Music at rise of curtain. Governess [Reading from story boolc] "The brave young prince at iA«t axTived at the gate of the Magician's castle. This obstacle would have arrested his course, since all the art and all the strength of the world could not open a door which enchantment kept fast closed, M FROU FROU. had it not been for the, ring which the Prince wore on nia fingei «ad which the fairy had given him to protect him from the evil pow«f of the magician Alerlin. By accident, he placed that hand on the bara of the gate. As soon as the talisman touched it it opened and the Prince continued his journey in search of the Princess. After having sought for her for two years, all the world over, he at length had the happiness to find her and conduct her home." (korgie And why did the Prince seek for the Princess ? Gov Because he loved her. Georgia And found her at last ? G'jo Didn' t you hear ? ' ' After having sought for her, aJl over the world, for two years, he at length had the happiness — " Georgie [Taking both her hands between hia.] Oh, if you only would—* but you musn't tell any one ! Gov If I only would ? — what, darling ? Georgie If you only would — we two might start now and go hunt- ing for mamma all over the world. [GovEENESs kisses Georqib. Lhter Angelique, l. c. Ang Mademoiselle! Gov [Thirning and dosing booJc] What is it? Ang Pauline— Madame' s old waiting maid — Gov [Rising.] Madame' s old waiting maid ! Ang [Georgie goes forward, listening.'] Yes, she is below and sayt she would like to see Master Georgie. Gov {Drawing Georgie to /.cr.] But — 1 don't know that I can per- mit it Ang Ah ! Mademoiselle — poor thing ! She says she will remain but a moment. Gov I really don't know if T can allow — nor do I know if I can deny — Enter Pauline, c. Pau Mademoiselle, I beg you—! [Angelique exits, o. Georgie [Running to Pauline.] It's Pauline ! Oh, Pauline ! [Pauline stoops on her knees and covers the child with kittei. Pau You know me, Master Georgie ? Georgie Yes, I knew you riglit away. Pau How tall you have i; own, and how pretty I yffeorgie I haven' t seen you for such a long time. Pau Yes, a long time— more than six months. Georgie Why did you go away ? Pau [Looking dozen.] W liy ? Georgie And mamuxa.? Where is she? ^ Pau [Faltering] Mamma !— Georgie? Enter Sartor y3, l. ii. Pauline rises ImstUy. Sar [To Governess.] Take Greorgie to bui room, Mademf iselle. [He kissc' the c/iM. y FROU FROU. fifi Gm [Crossing l.] Monsieur, if I have done wrong. Sar I do not reproach you. [Motions for her to remove Georqie, and tJie Go"\ erness exiU l. 1 B. u«A the child. Pan [l. c] I beg pardon, Monsieur 1 Sar It is well. How long have you been in Paris? Pau Since yesterday. Sar Are you here — alone ? Pau No, Monsieur ; Mademoiselle Ijouise is here with M. Brigard and— [Hesitates. Sar [Moved.] She? . Pau [Low tone, eyes on ground.] Ye», Monsieur Sar [Half audibly.] Near me — in Paris! Pau We were only passing through ; to-morrow we go to the South — the doctors say it is absolutely necessary. Sar The doctors ? Pau Yes, Monsieur, we stopped here to consult them, and I thought that if Madame could have news of her child, it would do her more good than all that the doctors could say to her, so T came without telling anybody what I was about. Sar Pauline— is she in danger ? Pau Yes, Monsieur. Sar Not in danger of death, however, not in danger of death ? Pau I think not. Monsieur. Sar You think not ? Pau I was more afraid of it six months ago, the day that Monsieur— [Pauses Sar Speak, I beg of you, Pauline. Pau I thought Madame was lost ; it lasted three days ; Madame de Cambri and I nursed her the best we could, but we thought each moment she would die. At the end of those three days, Madem- oiselle Louise arrived. Madame did nut recognize her at first, but at last she knew hor. Mademoiselle Louise took her in her arms and Madame cried ; Mtidemoiselie Louise kept her clasped in her arms, and both cried without saying a word. From that moment, my lady began to improve ; after a while she was able to travel and we all returned to Charmarettes — Sar And there she contiuned to improve, did she not? Pau Yes, during the first two months ; we hoped, yet she was very pale, and her smile was very sad. Ah, if you had seen her so — and with a plain black dress now, which she always wears — she who used to— Sar Yes, yes — Pau And then Madame was always among the poor and tending the sick. At last, what was inevitable, happened. After having passed several nights with a poor old woman — whose life she saved— Bhe fell sick herself of the fever. We called in the physicians — those down there sent us to those up here— the latter have decided what I told you a moment ago— that she must go to the South — that there Madame might recover. IS FROU FROU. Enter Angelique, c. Ang Monsieur, Mademoiselle Louise is below. Sar Louise ! Pan [F/ightened and taking a step forward to c] Ah, Monsieur, If she has come Iiere there must be — Sar R. c. What do you mean ? Fau [l. c] That Madame must be very ill. Sar [Pointing L. H.] There — there you will find Georgie. You will be able to kiss him before you leave. That way — go quickly. [Pauline crosses and exits l. 1 e. Sartorts malm a sign to Anqeliqus who exits c] Enter Louise. Louise [In doorway c, quickly.'] Georgie — her child ! Sar [Going a step towards her.] Louise ! Louise You can not refuse to let her see her child before she dies! Sar [Paralyzed.] Before she ! [Presses his hand to his Iierni and bows his head suddenly as if a heavy hUm had stricken him. Louise Yes, before she dies. Sar [Leaning against chair.] Ah ! Louise You do not answer ? Sar He is there. [She makes the step forward; he recovers ; motions her ; she stops; he rings bell on table.] He will be brought — you shall take him with you. Louise I will take him ? Sar [Fixing penetrating glances upon her.] Is not that what you ask of me? Louise Yes, that is what I asked, but I hoped you would have re- plied differently. Sar What else do you desire ? Louise I hoped that you yourself would have taken Georgie to her ; that you would see her ; and that one word of forgiveness — Sar [Starting back.] Forgiveness ! Louise [Going to him supplicatingly.] Henri ! [Be turns away.] She is dying. Sar Dying ! Oh, Louise— if I could ! — My heart is torn by the most terrible sufferings that a man can bear — but, if by giving my own life, I could save hers — I would not hesitate one moment. J do not speak falsely when 1 say that, but I would lie if I said that I for- give her. Louise Have you not had your revenge ? After that comes forgive- ness. [Sartorys si7iks into chair, clenching hands.] Has not the expia- tion been terrible enough ? Have not her sufferings — Sar Her sufferings! Look around you, at the house— desoldte I The child— deserted. Look at me, and tell me which you think has suffered most, she or I ? Louise The good she did to those around hf r — Sar [ With intensity, and rising.] What have I benefited bj the good FEOU FROU. 57 Bhe ^aa done to others ? That does not lessen tL. blo^ she has dealt Z.ff i^^w^nf "^"^^ ^ ^^'^^^^ ^«^' ^^^"«^ of ttie good she h^ done them .' Wdl you go ask the poorshe aided, the sick she tended* ^hthardineiTeT ''" "'"""' '' ^^"^ ^^^' ^^^^^^"^^ '^^" ^^^ ^-^"i Zm^e [/Vmcf^^?^.] She awaits your forgiveness-and she is dying. ^a/JCv/m^r i^^i reso^^.^« ] You wish me to utter a falsehood-is that tL Za ""^^ ^.V^' ^ 'T.'^y *^^^ ^ f^^^^^' ^^t i<^ does notcome from my heart. The wound is too deep, the sorrow is too great Louts lC] a sorrow greater than yours has forgiven her ^ar A greater sorrow than mine ? Of whom do vou speak ? i>f th^t moth ^- "" ^^"^* ^^^"^ ^ ^ awaken somber memories. I gpokt Sar [Sinking into chair again.] Louise ! Louise Whose son you killed. Sar [Struck with remorse.] Poor Valreas ! Louise She saw Gilberte dying, and GUberte, dying, begged her to forgive both herself and you. » ^ &» ss ^ "cr w Sar And that mother forgave ? Louise She forgave. Sar [BitUrly.] Ah ! you women, it is your religion makes you «riv« the he to your hearts. / e - Louise [Reproachfully.] Henri! ^ar [Coldly, and crossing.] Take the child with you. Biter Brigard c. He stops,] Louise Father ! Sar [Turning.] Monsieur !— you here ? Brig She would come. I could not prevent her. Louise [Excitedly and going towards Brigard.] Gilberte ? Brig Is there ? [Painting off c. Exit Louise, rapidly, o. Brig [To Sartorys.] You will not refuse to see her ? It is only to die that she has returned to this that was once her home. [Music. iliLBERTE appears at back supported by Louise. She ccmes forward a fm steps and sinks on her knees. Brigard takes a step towards her. Gil [ Waving Brigard back.] Not you, my father, not you ' c r.^^^ . , l^^^'^^^^^ ^pri^gs foTwaid and Toises her in his arms. Sar Gilberte ! my Gilberte ! ^ Gil [Gazing tenderly at him and in a low tone.] Thank you, thank you LSartorys supports her to sofa and kneels beside her. Gilberte after look- ing about her with a childiah ^mile.] At home, at home again Sar [Tenderly.] Yes, at home, Gilberte! at home, and you shal) not die, you shall always remain here ! ry-y rcr .,. -, , , „ [Brigar D a;2c? LouisE 6^ mcrnr/«, L. Gil [Smiling.] Always? Sar [Taking her hand.] Poor Gilberte ! Gil [Gently pre-vsing his forehead and pushing back his /lair.'i You forgive tte, do you not '( '^ FRC U FROD. iHar Yes, Gilberte, with all my soul. Music. Gil After pressing her hand to her heart, as if seized with a sudden pain, jmd then, in a foreboding voice.'] Georgie, niy little Georgie— bring him to me- S^ir [Rising ] Yes, I will go for him. Gil 'lAs iffcarhd of dying before he comes.'] Now — now — [Sartorys exits quickly, l. h. Louise darts to Gilberte's side. Gil [Odse>-ving Brigard who is leaning on mantle, back to audience.] Pool faLiicr ! .>-f /i»v°r SAistoHTS, toith G eorgie, followed by Pauline, who goes to back of sofa by Gilberte. Oeorgie Jlila»iima ! | Breaks away from his father and runs to her. Oil [ i^iifi a, t^iki cry, h df rising.] Georgie !— my son ! —my child ! [Sue tiikcs the chill in her arms and keeps him some minutes. Georgie Yo "i have come back at last, mamma ? Gil Yes, but not fv,r a long time, my Georgie. Let me kiss you •gain — once more. [iS'.'.'e kiises the child repeatedly.] Louise ! [Half hinfing from emotion, siie resigns him.] He is yours. I give him to you. Louise [ Who has com<> to t/ie front of the cou^h.] Sister ! Gd Yes, to you ! [Taking Sartorys' hand, who is behind sofa.] Once before — here — I said the same thing. Forgive me— forgive me all. Oome close, both, and prcnise me, promise me ! Ah ! [Band to heart Sar You will not die, my Crilberte, you must not ! [Brigard joins group about the couch. Gil [Looking on the group aboui /«•/-.] Not die ? when 1 am so happy ? Brig My daughter ! Gil Do not pity me— be glad, i.iy father. What had 1 to expect for my sin ? — to die abandoned — lon -W ,— This is a parlor window formed with two sheets of paper, and could be made practicable to slide up and down. The introduction of curtains each side would make it very effective. Size, S feet by 4}^ feet. Prioa^ $1.00, complete. X*X=LZSra'OZ£ TTKTinxraDO^Tir.-Consistine ot font sheets of paper, representing a window containing four xaige ornamental frosted glass panes with colored glass around. Size 6^ feet high by 5 feet. Price $1.50. 30*X T^ TH 3E» Tb .^^ C? lES m — ^This is also made with two sheets of papei^ The fire is lighted, but should this not be required a fire-paper can be hung over it. It will be found most useful in many farces wherein a character has to climb op a chim* ney, and many plays where a fireplace is indispensable. By purchasing a door, win- dow, and fireplace an ordinary room scene c '''.easily be constructed with the ad(U» tion of some wall-paper. Siiie, 3 feet by 4}^ fw^.. "Btiae, complete, $!.£& FRENCH'S ACTINlj SST ^^.CONGRES? PRICE, IScts. 015 7756084' EA.CH:. ISTE^W 'F'Tj^^ITS. April Folly At Sixes and Sevens Barbara Baron's Wager Betev Bow Bells Breach of Promise BreakiuR the Ice Brotheix (The) Bubbles By Special Request Case for Eviction Chalk and Cheese Charity Circumstances Alter Cases Confederate Spy Compromising Case Crazed Crossed Love Danich eft's Dimity's Dilemma Dreams Duchess of Bayswater & Co Duty Engaged Equals False Shame Fennel First Mate For the Old Love's Sake Garden Party Oarrick (Muskeiry) George Geith Gentle Gertrude Biiil Girl Graduate Girls (The) Glimpfaf of Paradise Gretclu'U Harvest Home His Own Guest Hook and Eye In Houiu- Bound Iron IMaster (Tha) Lady Fortune Linked by Love Long Odds Lovt" Game Lyrical Lover Major and Miuoi iviau Proposes ( Gioindy) Marble Arch Melting Moments Merry Meeting Marine r'« Return Miser Month After Date Mv Friend Jarlet My Little Girl My Lord in Livery Nearly Seven Nearly Severed Nettle Not Siich a Fool, etc. Obliging His Landlady Off Duty Old Cronies On the Brink Once Again Once a Week Open Gate Overland Route Palmistry Petticoat Perfidy Pitv Playmal^ig Prompter's Box Postscript Progress Punch Ruined by Drink Railway Adventure Row in the House Sample vs. Pattern Saved Second Thoughts Senior Wrangles Sins of the Fathers Sixpenny Telegram Sour Grapes Spur of the Moment Steeple Jack Step Sister Sunny Side I Sunset Sunshine I Taken by Storm I Tears: Idle Tears I That Dreadful Doctor The Nightingale ; Thorough Base Through the Fire I Tom Pinch j Time Colors Two Pros Which WTiy Women Weep I Woman's Wrongs i Written in ^and I Yellow Roses Yeoman's Service GUIDE TO SELECTING PLAYS, Price 25 Cento. ohowing how to select Farces, Comedies, Dramas, for Private or Public I Performance; giving the NumlM-r of Charaetei's, the Author's Name, the Scenery, ! ] Costumes, Time in Representation, and the Plot or Advice, connected with ! ' 1^00 Pieces. ' FRENCH'S PARLOR COMEDIES. A new series of selected plays for Amateurs. Ten numbere. Price, 19 Cents each. Oaide to Selecting Flays. Hints on Oostame. Scenery to Fit ao^ Stage. .Tarley's Wax Works, Ethiopian Plays, Cliarades, Amateur's Guide to the Stage. *? West 23d St,, Xew York. \ LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 015 775 608 4 ♦