'list of Plays on 2d, 3d and 4th pages of Cover. PS 1124 .B6 D3 1859 Copy 1 P No, CCXXII. )H'S STANDARD DRAMA, THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. % %H, m Ji&B gids. BY JOM BROUGHAM AND FRANK B. GOODRICH. WITH CAST OF CHARACTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c., &c. FIBST PEBFOBUED BY AMATEURS, FOB THE BENEFIT OP THE AMERICAN DRAMATIC FUND. PRICE,] NEW-YORK: AMUEL FRENCH, 122 Nassau Street, (Up Stairs.) [.12i CENTS. .^^ ,^/',^^^^.^'<. ^-^%-J? 7,/^ /Ts. ~Z ^-ji^ench A Tf heat, Frintere, 18 Auu Street, New Yylt. ^ ^ FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA, Price 12>^ Cents each.— Bound Volumes $1. VOL. I. VOL. II. VOL. III. VOL. IV. 1. Ion, 9. The Stranger, 17. The Poor Gentleman, 25. Virginius, 2. Fazio, 10. Grandfatlier White- 18. Hamljt, 26. King of the Commons 3. The .L,aay of liyons, 11. Richard III. [head, 19. Charles II. 27. London Assurance, 4. Richelieu, 12. Love's Sacriflce, 20. Venice Preserved, 28. The Rent Day, , 29. Two Gentlemen of' 5. The Wife, 1.3. The Gamester, [ache, 14. A Care for the Heart- 21. Pizarro, 6. The Honeymoon, 22. The Love Chase, Verona, 7. The Schoolfor Scandal 15. The Hunchback, 23. Othello, [lings, 24. Lend me Five Shil- 30. The Jealous Wife, 8. Money, 16. Don Csesarde B^zar. 31. The Rivals, With a Portrait and Me- With a Portrait and Me- SV'ith a Portrait and Me- 32. Perfection, moir of Mrs. A. C. moir of Mr. CHARLES moir of Mr. W. E. BUR- With a Portrait and Me- moir of J. H. HACKETT MOWATT. KEAN. TON. VOL. V. VOL. VI. VOL. VII, VOL. VUI. 33. A Kew W«y to. Pay 41. Speed the Plough, 49. Road to Ruin, 57. The Apostate, Old Debts, 42. 1 or.iej and Juliet, M. ilacbeth. iS. Tu.'1'.h Night, 34. Look Before You Leap 43. PeudalTimes, 51. Temper, 59 Brutus, 35. King John, 44. Charles the Twelfth, 52. Evadne, 60. Simpson k Co. 36. Nervous Man, 45. The Bridal, 53. Bertram, 61. Merchant of Venice, 37. Damon and Pythias, 46. The Follies of 8 Night 54. The Duenna, 62. Old Heads and Young 33. Clandestine Marriage 47. The Irou Cbest, 55. Much Ado About No Hearts, 39. William Tell, 48. Faint Heart Never thing. 63. Mountaineers. 40. Day after the Wedding Won Fair Lady, 56. The Critlo, 64. Three Weeks After Marriage. With a Portrait and Me- M'lth a Portrait and Me- With a Portrait and Me- With a Portrait anfl Me- moir of 0. OOLMAN, moir of E. BULWEB moir of R. B. SHERI- moir of Mr. GEORGE the Elder. LYTTON. DAN. H. BARRETT. VOL. IX. VOL. X. VOL. XI. VOL. XII. 65. Love, 73. Henry VIII. 81. Julius Casar, 89. Ingomar, 66. As Yon Like It, 74. Married and Single, 82. Vicar of Wakefleld, 90. Sketches In India, 67. The Elder Brother, 75. Henry IV. 83. Leap Year, 91. Two Friends, 68. Werner, 76. Paul Pry. 84. The Catspaw, 92. Jane Shore, 69. Gisippus, ;t. Guy Mannering, 8.'>. The Passing Cloud, 93. Corsican Brothers, 70. Town and Coontiy. 78. Sweethearts and 86. Drunkard, 94. Mind Your Own Bus- 71. King Lear, Wives, 87. Rob Roy, iness, 72. Blue Devils, 79. Serious Family. 80. She Stoop" to Con- 83. George Barnwell, 95. Writing on the Wall, 96. Heir at Law, With a Portrait and Me- quer, With a Portrait and Me- moir of Mrs. SHAW. With a Portrait sud Me- moir of Mrs. JOHN With a Portrait and Me- moir of Miss C. CUSH- SEFTON. moir of Mr. THOMAS MAN. HAMBLIN. VOL. XIII. VOL. XIV. VOL. XV. VOL. XVI. 97. Soldier's Daughter, 105. Game of Love, 113. Ireland As It Is, 121. The Tempest, 98. Douglas, 106. Midsummer Night's 114. Sea of Ice. 12'2. The Pilot, 99. Marco Spada, Dream, 115. Seven Clerks, 123. Carpenter of Rouen, 100. Nature's Nobleman, 107. Ernestine, 116. Game of Life, 124. King's Rival, 101. Sardanapalus, M8. Rag Picker of Paris, 117. Forty Thieves, 125. Little Treasure, 102. Civilization, 109. Flying Dutchman, 118. Bryan Boroihme, 126. Dombey and Son, 103. The Robbers, IW. Hypocrite, 119. Romance & Reality. 127. Parent* and Guard- 104. Katharine and Pe- 111. Th,.ese, 12C. Uswinc, 128. Jewess. [tans, truchio. 112. La Tour do Nesle, With a Portrait and Me- With a Portrait and Me- With a Portrait and Me- moir of Mr. EDWIN moir of Mr. JOHN moir of Mr. BARNEY FOREST. BROUGHAM. WILLIAMS. VOL. XVII. - VOL. XVIII. VOL. XIX. VOL. XX. 129. Camille, 137. Nieht and Morning, 145. Dred. or the Dismal 153. French Spy, 130. Married Life, 138. .¥.'Wop, Bwamp, 154. Wept of Wish-ton 131. Wenlockof Wenlock 139. Three Guardsmen, 146. Last l.ia.vs of Pom- Wish, 132. Rose of Ettrickvale, 140. Tom Cringle, [ken. 147. Esmeralda, [peil, 155. Evil Genius, 133. David Copperfleld, 141. Henriette, thePorsa- 148. Peter Wilkins, 156. Ben Bolt, 134. Aline, or the Rose of 142. EostacheBaudin, 149. Ben the Boatswain, 157. Sailor of France, 135. Pauline, [Killarney, 136. Jane Eyre. 143. Ernest Maltravcrs, IjO. Jonathan Bradford, 158. Red Mask, 144. Bold Dragoons. 151. Retribution, 159. Life of an Actress, •' 152. Minerali. 160. Wedding Day. VOL. XXI. VOL. xxn. VOL. XXIII. VOL. XXIV. 161. All's Fair In Love, 169. Son of the Night, 177. Actress of Padua, 185. Young New York. 162. Hofer, 170. Rory O'More, 178. Floating Beacon, 186. The Victims. 163. Self, 171. Golden Eagle, 179. Bride of Lammer- 187 Romance after Mar- 104. Cinderella, 172. llionzi. mo'T, [Res, l.SO. Oata'-ictof Cie ( m- 1 SS BrigRDd, [riage. 165. Phaiitom, 173. Broken 3worri, ls9 .--oor nit to be placed at the head of this establishment. You may have your feeliims upon the subject, but what can they be wlien cdinp.ued with mine 1 I, who have grown up since childhood with the Yiscomte. I, who looked upon myself as the possessor of everythiim, except the responsibility of ownership. I, who could come and 20, and do what I pleased, now to have the eye of a mis- tress upon my actions! Tir. Let's drink to the mistress's eye. Mus. For my part, my mind's made up, and I mean to be as im- 6 THK DARK HOUR BEFORE BATTIT. pertinent to this intrusive female stranger, as it is possible for hoiu;eniai(l to \fe, within the limits of safety. [Sits. Pap. You don't mean to insinuate that would be a singular phe- nomenon 1 Mas. Not among your impudent tribe ; you men are so conceited one would suppose the world belonged to you. Pap. Si.> it does. 3!us. Indeed ! By what right, pray 1 Pap. The right of possession. AVe were first on it, and if you had'nt taken a mean advantage of our very first slumber, to steal a fragment of our anatomy, you never would have been at all ; and, indeed, that bone too much in our original configuration, has beeu a bone of cier. Mas. Oh ! it's twice more longer again as dat. Pap. [ Whispering to Muscadine.] I have it — Shnoutenhoutenvon- poufeiiheimer. Mus. I'll bet you can't say it again. Pap. Slmoutenhoutenvonpoufenheimer. Mus. Ah, yes ! Baron, I'll assist you — Hooten-tooteii-shnouf.en- heimer. Bar. How stupid of me ! Of course — Pooten-pooten- [very loud] heimer! I knew it ended in lieimer. Mus. Yes, that's near enough, for all the good ifll do you. Pap. Baron, let me piesent onr friends. [Aside.] The stable-boy first. [Aloud.] The ^larquis de Frangipanni. [Aside.] Now the but- ler. [Aloud.] Tiie Duke de Chateauniargot, Baron de Vinordinaire. Bar. Deliiihted, sir, I'm sure. I've known several members of your family. [Aside.] Really, the Visconite receives the most choice society. Mus. Baron, won't you swallow a little somothing ] Here''s a mor- S THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAtVIT. sel of pasty, cut for you by Frangipanni's own hands, [aside] and with his own knife. Har. I don't mind if I do. Illustrious pasty ! carved by a Fran- gipatini, and served up b}' a Pootenheimer ! — let nie absorb thee ! <, [Bell and whip-cracking heard without. Pap. Good lord, there's master 1 Mas. And missis. Pap. Let's get the things out of the way ; quick ! [Great hnrry-skurry. — Papillon takes off cloth, with ei'ertjthing on it — Fraxgipanni drags CuATEAUMARGOTOMi — Muscadine snatches Baron's plate from him — consternation on the part o/Bakon, Sfc. Enter Viscomte de Rosiere and Cecile. Viscomte. At last, my love, we are at home. Here are the ser- vants to welcome us. Ah, Papillon ! Muscadine, you see I have brought you a mistress back. Cecile, this is Muscadine, your waiting- maid — a good girl, too. .Vus. Ah, madame ! we are so glad you have come. We have al- ways thought it such a pity that master didn't get married. Pap. Yes, ma'am, we were saying just now, not two minutes ago, me and Muscadine, how much pleasanter the house would be with a delicate female in it. Bar. [Aside.] What do I hear 1 The Pootenheimer turned lady's maid 1 Cecile. Well, my good girl, I must try and not disappoint your ex- pectations. Will you show me to ray room 1 Mus. Willingly, madame. Cec. I am going to look round the house a little, Edward. I have never seen a bachelor's establishment, you know. Jlus. Oh, madame ! everything at all bachelor has been scrupulously suppressed. We knew you was a-coming, ma'am. [Exeunt Muscadine a7id Cecile. Bar. lam absolutely brutified with stupefaction. Vis. Why, Baron ! excuse me, I did not see you. How are you 1 How have you been during the past fortnight 1 Bar. Go away ! Go away ! Vis. Hey, Baron ! what's this 1 Bar. [Excitedly ] I swear it's too bad ! I never leave my specta- cles at home — which I do pretty much all the time — but everybody makes game of me, and comes all sorts of jokes over me. Here have I been hobnobbing with counts and duchesses, and curse me, if I don't believe it was your precious servants! But let them tremble, Viscomte, [Going.] let them oscillate with terror; [At door.] lam going to get — Vis. What 1 The police 1 Bar. No! My spectacles ! Ho! ho! [Exit. Pap. [Trembling hurlesquely.] I'm oscillating all over ! Vis. Papillion, run immediately to the house of my cousin, Alfred de Senneville, and request him to come here at once. You may tell THE DAUK HOUR BEFOKE DAWX. 9 him of my marriage, for I did'ntcare about breakinji the ill news to him mjself. Pap. Ill news 1 Vis. Yes, to him. He expected me to die early and to make liim my heir. Pap. I fly, my lord. [ i.side.\ Now I'll make this cousin, oscil- late. {Exit Papillon. Vis. I expect an explosion from that young man, and, in fact, it is the only anxiety I have in connection with my marriage, for I almost promised him, in one of my misanthropic fits, to allow my estate to revert to his branch of the family. However, there's no lielp for it now. But where can Joseph, my wife's brother be, I wonder ? Re-enter Cecile. Cec. A very well ordered house, Edward, a place for everything and everything in its jjlace. It's too large, though — too grand. I am afraid my country eyes and country habits will never become ac- customed to the change, We lived so differently at home, you know. Vis. That puts me in mind of a matter of which I ought to have spoken to you before, Cecile, one concerning your brother. Cec. My brother "? Vis. You know, love, that there has been a great difierencc be- tween your education and his. You were brought up iu a convent, and habituated from your earliest years to the usages of society, and to the refinements of conventional life, and I have never for an in- stant doubted your ability to sustain your rank creditably in the sa- loons of Paris. But it is not so with your brother, whose onlj- education has been that of the farmhouse, and whose manners are those of the field. If he were known to be your brother, he would act as a drag upon you, besides being constantly in a false position- himself. Cec. Poor Joseph ! What do your propose doing then, Edward 1 Vis. Let him be presented to our household as the late Steward of your estate at home, now promoted to the Intendancy of our hotel in town. Cec. Oh, my poor brother ! But what will he say to this arrange- ment, do you think? Vis. Hei e he comes, let him speak for himself. Enter Joseph La Tour, with stick. La Tour. Well, here we are in Paris, sister, thanks to our good brother-in-law, who would transplant us from our quiet little country garden, to this great entangling foi est of brick and stone. By St. Denis ! I nearly lost my head from bewilderment wliile making my way here. I can't say much for your hall servants' manners, my lord brother-in-law. He was for kee{)ing me on the wrong side of the door, until I stirred up his politeness with this. [Shaking stick.\ AVanted to know who I was, but I soon satisfied him that it was none of his business who I was. " Ob, you came with his lordship, may- 10 TUIE DARK HOUR BEFORK DATTN. be 1" said the fellow, nibbing liis pate wliere I had let the manners into his thick skull — " you'll soon find out, my saucy friend," said 1. Then ui) comes a donkey-faced jack a-dandy and betran brayina at nie, and uantuia to know " what odor of turnip-fed rusticity saluted his delicate uerves.'' I just pointed to my explainer, and he tripped away like a dancing-master. 1 do believe, my lord brother-in-law, that these ignorant louts take me to be a sort of upper servant to my lady sister and yourself. Ha ! lia I Vis. Perhaps it's better that Ihey should. La T. What ! Vis. Nay, hear me out, Joseph ; you are a sensible lad, and it is in reference to this very subject that Cecile and I wish to speak to you. You will not take oflense, I'm sure, where none is meant, but sui){)ose you I'epresent yourself to be, for a time merely, what the household have taken you for — the Steward orlntendent of the hotel — until you acquire, as with your habits of observation you soon v.iil. the exteinal graces and fiuish which custom requires gentlemen to possess. La T. AVhy, look ye, Yiscomte, if I am not good enough to show my face along with you and sister, why did'ut ye leave us alone in the country wliere you found us"? Cec. Now, brother dear, don't speak so harshly to Edward ; he is only doing it for your good. Vis. La Tour, I liave no false pride. It is not on my account that I make the proposition. I am perfectly willing — nay, I should be l>roud to acknowledge you as my biother, and recognize my relationship to one wliom I look ui)on as a yeoman prince; but I cannot force the Parisians, with tlieir caustic wit, to admire you as much as I do. La T. Well, after all, what do I care for anything but the happi- ness of my dear Cecile 1 How long will it take to {jolish me up like a fine Hentleman 1 Vis. Six months, perhaps. La T. And how does a steward — or an intendant, as ye call it — pass away the time ? What must I do, in short, for my wages 1 Vis. Well, as we don't pay you any wages, we won't exact any du- ties of you. There shall be a sub-intendant to do the work. La T. No, no; if I wear the title, I'll discharge the duties. What are they 1 Vis. Well, you must furnish the stores required for the house and the stable, keep the accounts, pay the bills, engage the ser- vants — La T. Can I make love to the servant-girls 1 Cec. Oil, Joseph! how can you'i Lm T. There's a mighty pretty one, I notice. I'll practice my gcn- tililv on her. Vis. You must look out for Papillon, then ; fof he asserts a prior claim to Madeinoij:ello Muscadine. La T. Well, Viscouile, I'll bo your steward till I've learned my manners; iiud lieiv's my hand upon it. [Professionally.^ What will your lordship be pleased to order for dinner 1 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE PAWN. 11 Enter Papillon. Pap. Mon-^iciir AltVeil de Seimcville is in the ante-room, and (iesiios an iiiieiview Willi jMoiNJeur le Vist-onite. [Aside a Cliauve-Souris. To all honest rogues in the world, fill high, Who no sheepskin garments wear, iSut boldly cry As the lambs pass by, AVe are wolves ! of our teeth beware. Then sing and drink, Till the tired stars wink. And care into limbo fling ; For a clinking song Helps time along, It's a very, very jovial thing. "With a ding, ding, dong, Dong, dong, ding! Merry, merry let the glass bells ring. 14 THE TjARK HODR EEI'OKK PAWN. To all fearless hearts throufrh the woihl, brave boys, Now a foainins bumper fill ; Lei fools split straws, But a fin; for their laws, We have none but our own good will. Then sing and drink, &c.. That's right — jolly dogs ! Fling care to the four winds. Here's your true joy-inspirer ! pass it round, and be merry. Here's confusion to the hobbling old Jezabel, Dame Justice — and may she always be a day's march behind us ! Ah. Hurrah! Bellete. Say rather before us, old bo}', for then we ueed'nt overtake her unless we desire it. Trebuchet. Tete de Diablfe 1 I'd rather the old beldame kept out of the ivay altogether. Papa. Pshaw! there's no fear. She has'nt been seen about here lately. Btl. They say Mazarin has sent her to the Blind Ho.spital, to have her eyes attended to. Papa. More likely to have the bandage tied a little tishter. Treh. Tiie Doctor's will take care of thai ! It would be incoven- ient to them, if she saw too cleai'ly. Papa. Failh, if she did, there's no knowing what murders would come to light : a bolus is as good as a bullet sometimes. Bel. Come, come, you must'nt libel the faculty. Bless you, they never kill patients, they only lose then;. Papa. That's true, and as they are only tried by a jury of doctors, the verdict is pretty sure to be justifiable homicide: — but has any- body seen La Force to-day 1 His little retirement at that fashiona- ble watering place, has given him health, if not wealth. Exercise is wholesome. Ah : I remember him a swashing blade — the idol of the feminines and the pride of the Boulevards ! What a daintj' rascal he Avas to be sure ! Treb. What was he sent to the gallies fori Papa. A trifle of amateur surgery, that's all. An over particular individual objected to the peculiarity of his play, at Rouge et Noir, one evening, and got so hot-blooded about it, that La Force found it necessary to cool him, by letting it all out with an unprofessional lancet. Bel. Ah! that's the inconvenience of not being in regular practice. [La Force sings without. Papa. Ah ! here he comes ! let us receive His Majesty of the Galleys, with all honor. Enter La Force — a picturesque ragamuffin. All cheers, and gather round him, shouting- All. Long live the King of the Galleys. La Force. My beloved subjects — this cordial welcome touches our royal heart. It rejoices us, on returning from the somewhat pro- tracted Tisii to our jnarine palace, to find yoiu" loyalty unshaken. TIIK HARK liOtTR UKFORK DAWN. 15 Althouah it is usual in a speech from the Tiirone, to indulge in diplo- matic anibiauily, and contrive to sny nolliiiig particular, in as many words as possible, ue shall not follow the example of our cousins of the kinaly family, but say what we mean, utterly disregarding the delicate susceptibility of the public funds. Our crown is safe : we have wHirn it since infancy, and it sits easy on our shoulders. We care not for domestic treason, or the plots of rival statesmen, but reign o'er honest rascals, true to one another, and to crown all, our treasuiy is free from peculation, the only one that is, because there's nothing in it. All. Hurrah ! hurrah ! Papa. May I presume to inquire if your Majesty has had any luck to-day i La F. You mean in raising the supplies'? Not much. A worthy bourgeoise was kind enough to assist us with a small amount. We didn't ask him, yet he felt obliged to leave a little in our hands — we took it. but regret to say the donor didn't wait for us to thank him. [Throws -purse to Papa. J A lovely damsel, too, bewildered by our close attention, lost her heart, besides this slight memorial. In a moment of abstraction she parted with it, entirely heedless of the sacrifice she made. By the light handed Mercury, and Venus the lighter hearted, we're not past conquest yet. Papa. Faith, so it seeius ! a })retty keepsake that. La F. What ] do your palms begin to itch, and your red eyes snap, old greedy. Papa. [Aside.] Diamonds ! big diamonds, as I'm alive. La F. There, take it, Demogorgon ! you know it's value to the last shadow of a grain. I never shall, until you tell me when I'vo melted it within this fiery alembic. [Drinks. Papa. Ah ! we shall thiive now-, since you have returned. Bless me! I thought they were diamonds. [Rubbing with sleeve. La F. \_Starting to his feet.] And so they are. old Cheat-the-devil ! Peste ! w'ould you try your tricks on me '? Papa. Yes, yes; I see they are now, but of small value — dim and full of flaws. Za F. Why, what a pity ! Give it me back ; it isn't worth your notice. Papa. There now, how quick you are ! I'll turn it to account, and give you the full value, be assured. La F. No, no ; your chance has passed. Come, give it up, you miserly old harpy ! You knov/ I'm obstinate, and somewhat dan- gerous, when crossed or played with. Papa. I won't I I won't ! You shall have months, nay, years of drink and lodging for it. It is of value. I confess the lie. Abuse nie, pummel me, but let mo. keep it — oh ! let me keep it. Ija F. 1 tell you, no! You've roused the tiger in me. Restore me that trinket, or I'll cut it from your miserable heart. [General movevient. — A sharp knock at the door — all alarmed, crouch xfito camera, and conceal themselves — others sit quietly at ta- ble — La Force hides. 16 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. Papa. The saints be praised ! Oh, should it be the hawks of justice ! La F. Beware! [Papa unboUs door- ALFRED DE Senneville enters, disguised in large roquelaire and slouched hat. De S. Pardon this intrusion, mj' honest friend. I seek one Mon- sieur La Force, who, I am infornaed, sometimes visits here. Papa. He does, sir — La F. [Interrupting ] Stay, I know the person he inquires after; let me answer iiim. Proceed, sir, with your question. De S It is simply to ask if lie I seek is here at present. La F. Faith, if your pur[)ose is a friendly one, he might bo found without much trouble. But if not — Be S. Well, and if nof? La F. Ventre St. Gris ! you know not the brotherhood that calls him chief, or you might have sense enough to guess. [Touches his knife. De S. You mean, my throat might be in danger! La F. I regret to say that such desperate contingency would then be not at all unlikely. De S. Perdie ! I knew the ticklish ground I had to tread upon, and cnme not here, believe rae, without due precaution. Treb. [Rushing forwa^'d with others.] What, does he threaten us 1 Down with him 1 La F. Pooh ! pooh ! Restrain your anger, my impetuous friends. Most e.xcellent sir, will you extend your courtesy so far as to inform us what induced the honor of this unexpected visit 1 De S. Pardon me, but that concerns him only that I am in quest of. La F. Then pray relieve your lungs at once, sir, for he stands be- fore you. De Sen. I thought so. I was sure of it. That heroic air conviuces me. Let me pay homage to the adventurous spirit of whose bold ex- ploits I've heard so much. La F. Oh, sir ! ycu overcome me quite. [Aside.] The fool haa shown his hand. I know his game — he wants me. De 8. I mean to do you a service. Jja F. [Aside.] I'll warrant that; but not for nothing, I'll be sworn. De S. Could we not have some talk alone 1 La F. One moment, if you please. Pray don't accuse me of indel- icacy — a mere routine, that's all. [Talcing out Alfred's sit'ort^.] A fine blade ! Here, Papa, be careful of his excellency's sword. Why, what a charming ornament! [Takes poniard-] Spanish, I think. These gentlemen are fond of curious workmanship ; they'll just ex- amine these apart, while we converse. No harm shall come to them, I pledge my honor. [All go off, examining swords, singing refrain of chorus. Alfred somewhat annoyed.] You mustn't think liarshly of my children's playful habits. And now. Monsieur, we are alone, let me entreat you to be explicit, and above all things, frank and open. THE DARK HO0R BEFOKB DAWN. 17 Dissimulation or word-fencing will be waste of time and breath. To put you a*, your ease at once, let nie premise that I'm a gen- ileman of wit and leisure, somewhat bruised and frayed, indeed, by falling from a social height, perhaps as lofty as your own — but let that pass. When station stoops to such companionship as this, and shows itself within the market-place of crime, it can be only as a purchaser. Well, you know the merchandise in which we deal. Don't fear eavesdroppers. What do yon require? IJe S. Most clear and business-like, I must confess. Tonieet you, tlien, on equal grounds, I am desirous of using j'our wit and leisure for a lilUe time. Both shall be well rewarded. La F. Ah ! now you're interesting. Proceed, monsieur, my ears are sharpened. Wiiat kitid of service do you want 1 De S. An easy one. — and void of every risk. La F. Yes, yes — of course. When souls follow the devil's finger- post, tiic road is always smooth at first. Go on. De S. To come, then, to the point at once — I simply wish to have a womati compromised. La F. An iimocent one 1 Be S. The woi Id believes so, but our creed ignores such a phr nomenon. La F. And young? De S. But just i)ast girlhood. La F. Unmarried 1 De S. No, a recent wife. La F. And happy in her choice, no doubt — hum ! In the flrsl dawn of life, and love, and joy — to be destroyed forever. I wish you had desired some other service. Wliy, man, it's equal to a score ol simple murders. A sudden plunge with the red hand and there's an end. But here, every life-breath for the long years to come, will be a separate stab ! If life and honor are both quenched at once, the means are merciful that bring oblivion; but to kill the soul only, and still suffer the heart to throb, and the brain to work ! — I would you had not asked me to do this. De S. Pshaw! man. Why, is it not done daily for mere pastime 1 Don't reputations hang upon the lips of fools and gossips, every- where 1 I little thought to find such scruples here ; no matter — it's of little moment — think no more of what I said. [Gomg. La F- Softly, sir — don't misunderstand me. I'm ready to do any devil's work the fiend thrusts in my way. for fate has made me des- perate. I only put it in the strongest light, in hope that the great strain upon my conscience would be considered, wlien we touch upon the pecuniary. De S. You shall be amply paid. La F. The sum — the definite sum ! There's nothing so encourag- ing as to see in perspective, a good round total, except, perhaps, the pleasing certainty of a present instalment. To say tlie truth, my wardrobe lacks variety. The social world has claims which should be respected. De S. It will be absolutely necessary for you to have the appear- 18 THE DAKK HOUR BEFORK DAWN. ance of a man of rank. Here are 100 louis rl'or — so pray equip at once. A few moments of \-onr time cmi)liiye. Ah, losebud, when I wear you in my breast, as you have promised I shall one of these days, let the nose beware that ventures near enough to scent the perfume. Mus. How poetical our butterfly has become. I have no tiine fo listen to such nonsense. The Viscomtesse is preparing for the recep- tion, and I must go to her. Pap. Won't you bless your insect by telling him your heart is his, before you leave ? Mus. Well, yes — I believe so I there, go along, I've told you so a thousand times. lap. [Capers about.] Then a fig for all the moths and flies ! my wings expand — I rise above them — up, up, among the sun-rays and the cupids, to warm myself a while, and then to settle down upon these dewy rose-leaves. [Kisses her. THE PARK noun BEFOKE TiA^'N. "It^ Baron de Trop enters. Bar. Don't let me inlernipt you, Visconite. [Muscadixe and Pa- PILLON sneak off.] I belipve I'm early — always likt> to be in-a-lime ; deuce take those spectacles! })ray excuse mo, 1 must no back. [Going, encounters La Tour, who enters.] How do you no ! I'm <;lad to see you. [La Tour wiihdr-iw s hand.] Ah — ah ! yes, bless me, 1 don't recollect! who have I the pleasure to address! La Tour. The Viscorate's Intendant, Baron. Bar. Is it jiossible 1 well — I declare, so it is. You didn't happen to see a pair of spectacles, but I forgot, they must be at my hotel ! good mornina. [E.Tit. La T. Ah! here comes my dear Cecile, looking like an angel, as she is. [Goes to meet Cecile, who enters.] — Be looks around, then embraces her.] — Oh, how my rustic heart glows to see thee a great lady. Our dear dead mother said it would be so — aye, and I'll bet our old silver-haired father, at home, weeps tears of joy, at this very juomeat, just as I do Cec. Bless you, my good brother, for all your love and kindness to me. I am indeed hap])y. hap])}' beyond expression ; not for the rank to which heaven's providence has elevated me, but for that richer gift, the noble and true heart which would make any station glorious. It pains me, though, to see you, my brother, in this habit and con- dition, even for a time, and to know that while my lightest thought is anticipated, you may be subject to some slight. La T. Ha, ha ! my sim[)le sister, you seem to think tliat the drawing-room department is tlie controlUng power. Not a bit of it ; the kitchen is the head of the domestic kingdom. I have been in my present situation just long enough to know where the real authority lies, who distributes the pa- tronage, and absorbs the revenues. By St. Lawrence of the Grid- iron! but if my lord, the Cardinal Minister wished a lesson in diplomacy, he could'nt do better than consult a congress of cooks ; no, no, thank you, I am the head of the lower house, and though the upper one may have the responsibility of supplying the finances, we have the profitable amusement of making it fly among our favorites, with a liberal percentage on the outla}'. Cec. Yet still I would much rather see you near me, in your pro- per character. La T. In good time, dear Cecile. I think I may he of use where I am, until the country rust rubs ofT a little. Sapristie! I should bo as much out of i)lace among these silken lordlings, as a beetle in a bee-hive, and might get more sting than honey. My gentility is in the rough just at present, we must have it cut and polished by de- grees. Cec. Ah, Joseph, I don't wish to see you changed a morsel, but bo always, what you have ever been to me, my own true, honest- hearted, sim[)le country brother, and good friend. La T. Tete de St. Denis ! there's no fear of such a change as that ; your fine, courtly braveries can't alter me so foolishly as to wear my 20 THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. gizzard outside, like a trussed tuikey ; no, no, Cecile, if j'ou remain, as I am sure yon will, tlio ornament and lionor of our humble name, I'll be contented, cloud as I am, near your brightness, to keep my sunny side liidden from the world's eye. Cec. My own dear, dear Joseph ! They embrace as De Trop enters. Bar. I've got them — eh ! Bless my soul ! phew ! is'nt that the In- tendant 1 — and — mercy on me ! the bride ! I'm paralyzed ! [Gets behind wing. — He is unseen by Cecile and La Tour. Cec. Fortune has blessed me, indeed, in your devoted love, dear Joseph. Believe me, I am grateful for it, and happy beyond thought. Bj,r. [Aside."] Joseph, eh ! — prenez garde. Viscomte Potiphar. La T. Ha, ha ! I laugh, Cecile, to think how little the fools and fopliiigs that flutter round, know of the strong link that binds the radiant mistres and her humble servant, and how, amidst the brilli- ancy and joy of this night's fete, one heart they little can suspect, will throb with pride and happiness, made more intense from its very secrecy and self-enjoyment. Bar. [Aside.\ Bravo! Monsieur Joseph! your cloak is not in danger, it would seem. La T. I think I hear the visitors begin to arrive. It will be neces- sary for us to part, Cecile, and wear a little time our separate char- acters, or we may have that pur-blind. Baron blundering upon us. Bar. [Aside.] Ah ! that's pleasant — but there's a proverb about listeners — I ought to have known it. ia T. And so Madame La Viscomtesse, I humbly kiss your hand. Cec. Monsieur L'Intendant — an revoir. [Exeunt, laughing. Bar. [Comes forward.] Well, I'm petrified! I think I may venture to go solar as to say pulverized. I can't be mistaken this time — for I've got my spectacles. Alas! for us open hearted, credulous, and unsuspecting men. Who are we to trust 1 a fellow smuggled into the house as a servant! I thouglit there was a mystery in his man- ner ! but something must be done — honor, friendship, propriety, urge me to rush instantly to the Viscomte. I Avill — no, I won't — it would be a pity to interrupt the fete ; they do say the cuisine is irre- proachable, and the cellar marvellous ! time enough, but I must keep my eyes — I mean my spectacles about me. The scoundrel! I won't give him any quarter, after supper. [Exit. SCENE IV. — The reception room in the Hotel de Rosiere, magnifi- cently decorated. The Viscomte and Viscomtesse discovered receiving the company. La Tour, icith wand, as intendant, announces. Music. — De Trop blunders in putting the guests in confusion. Bar. [Litroduced.] I beg ten thousand — I — ah, that is lo i&ay — what superb nonchalance ! it's beautiful to look at. Vis. You seem agitated, Binon. THE DARK HOOH BEFORE DAWN. 21 Bar. Ohdcar.no. AVIiy sliould I ? wlint i.s it to me 1 A little preoccupied — a kind of siii prise, just now — tliat's all. Poor Poti- l)Iiar ! [Goes towards ¥rei.\3Civei: andlslETiijVCU'E.'] Ah! I'm very glad to see you lookina; so well — ah — why it is'iit you — I mean — where the deuce are those spectacles 1 just now, when I want them most of alL Fre. How are you, Baron 1 Bar. Oil ! there you are — you are very kind. I'm really very glad to see you — you're looking uncommonly well — never saw so great an improvement. Who is that 1 [2^o Meeluche. Mer. Why, don't you know Freluquet, the lady-killer "? Bar. To be sure — delighted — thought it was you. Fre. Have you been introduced to tlie Viscomtesse, Baron "? Car. Yes, I believe — that is — I hardly know — oh ! you mean the bride 1 Fre. Precisely. Is she not charming? Bar. Well, I think not — I mean — Oh! if I dared only tell them. Hush ! I know something! Fre. Wlial, about the Viscomtess 1 Bar. E.xactly — and — oh! — but never mind — all I shall say is — wait — wait ! La T. [Announces.] Le Marquis de Mousserron ! Monsieur De l\Ieschin I and ilie Count Alfred de Senneville ! They enter. — La Force as the Marquis. De S. Pardon me, my dear cousin, for being so late, but my friend De Mescliin, and I had an appointment which it was impossible to avoid. De Mes. But which we ended as rapidly as we could, Viscomte, that we might have the pleasure of being presented to your lovely briiie. Apropos — I prevailed upon our friend, the Marquis, to ac- coini)any us. Allow me to introduce him. Yiscomte de Rosiere, the Marquis de Mousseron. Vis. I am hapi)y to see you, Marquis — let me present my wife. [La Force hows, and seems to recognize Ckcile, but with a slight gesture. La F. Madame Le Vicomtesse, pray accept my most sincere con- gratulations. Vis. [Slightly agitated.] You and my wife have met before. Mar- quis, it would appear 1 La F. Ell ! pardon me — I was thinking of — what did you observe, VisconUel Vis. [Quietly.] I said that your look seemed to infer that you had met elsewhere. La F. Oh ! dear, no, it's quite a mistake, I assure you. I confess a slight resemblance somewhat startled me, at first — but pray don't let it disarrange your festival. I was wrong to recognize, that is to betray any emotion at the fancied similitude. I beg a thousand par- 22 THK DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. dons ot the larly, and I entreat yon, sir, to think no more of this absurd interiuption. [Aside to Cecile.J Don't be alarmed, my dear, tlie becret's sate \vitli me. Cec. Secret! what do you mean, sir 1 I have no secret, nor do I know who you are. La F. [Aside to her.] Imprudent woman ! you will betray yourself. Vis- Vou must be well aware, sir, that this conduct demands an i^xplunalion. Be pleased to tell me, explicitly, if you have known this lady before to-ni^ht, or not 1 La F. I pledge you, my honor, my dear Viscomte, nothing was furiher from my thouojits than to wound in the remotest degree, her ladysliip'.s susceiitibility. Vis. Am 1 to understand, sir, that you will not answer my question 1 La F. You surely understand, Viscomte, that a man of honor must yield nothing to comjiulsion. I will be judged by your friends if I have done aught to justify your reqtiest to me. You can't imagine tliat, even if I did know anything detrimental to her ladyship's fail fame, I should be such a dastard as to avow it. Vis. Tliis is mere special pleadnig, sir. Will you oblige me with a definite answer ! I ask it cointeously, and as my simple right. La F. In that case, sir, I liave no hesitation in saying, no! this lady and I have never met before. Vis. You have ! you have — I can't be deceived ; 'tis but your obli- gation and sense of honor urges you to the denial, but there is a tone of irony in your words, that sufficiently contradicts their import. La F. If your overstrained sensibility should so construe my words, you must allow that I am not to blame. Vis. The trutl:, sir, the truth ! I will hear it at all hazard — I make no issue with you, whatever it may be — Cecile. Cec. Oh ! my ktisband, my true lord and love ! have pity on me, and i)rotect me ; I know not what I say or do, — bewildered, stunned, most innocent of any wrong in thought or deed, and yet this man ad- dresses me with words that buru like wounded shame ; and as I live and breathe, I know liira not. La F. Did I not say so ] now, I trust you're satisfied. Vis. No, I am not ! you've set my heart upon the rack, and said too much, or else too little. There is a secret, and I must know it. Cec. I fear not what he says, secure in my own innocence, and in the miaht of Heaven's justice, I can defy the tongue of slander. La F. Since you assume this lofty tone, Cecile La Tour — Vi.'>. Ha! La F. My courtesy is veiled by indignation, and I think only of your treachery to me. Vis. To you ! what does this mean 1 La F. Simply that I had a prior right to her affection, if not to her constancy, for though the church's ceremonies were by chance TnK PAUK HO0K BRFOflE DAWN. 23 oiiiiltetl, lier ladyship did me tho honor to share my name before she dreamt of wearing yours. Tableau of astonishment. — Cecii-e screams and falls into La Louk's arms, who has 2yitsh€d La Forge aside. — Bakon de Tkop looks for his spectacles. END OF ACT SECOND. ACT III. SCENE L — A small, pocrly furnished apartment. — Cecile discovered. Cec. [ Weeping.'] And so ends my day-dream of happiness — in mis- ery, huniiiiation and despair ! Ah ! what heedless fault have I com- mitted, that the chastisement should be so terrible? Whose path have I crossed, that he should seek a revenge so cruel 1 Born among (he woods, my humble birth could have disturbed no ambition, de- ranged no calculation ; too weak to fear a rival, too simple to de- serve an enemy. Infancy, childhood, and youth passed in peaceful quiet. At last came womanhood — then love — then wedlock — a brief joy, thus quenched in sudden darkness! Denounced by one whose face I have never seen — spurned l)y my husband — and, I fear, aban- doned by my brother! Looked upon as au outcast by the uncharit- able world, which ever takes for granted that which cannot be dis- proved, however infamously false — and yet unable to denounce the lying tongues and coward hearts that worked this cruel wrong! Joseph, my brother! do not thou forsake me, in my soul agony ! He promised to come to-day — will he keep his word? Oh, yes, I am pure he will! Hark! I hear a footstep — 'tis he. [^4 knock at door. Come in! Emter Baron De Trop. Bar. I wonder wncther this is the place 1 i've left my spectacles at home, so I should'nt know her from the princess royal. How d'ye do ? Can't see you — I suppose it's you — how are ye? Cec. The Baron ! Oh, innocence, where is thy safeguard. Since the blush of shame burns iu my cheek as fiercely as though it was deserved. Bar. They said the sixth story, this may be the seventh. I never can keep the run after the third — it's very awkward, I'm sure. Cec. What may be your business with me, sir 1 Bar. I don't think it's she — the one I want has a more oleaginous brogue, a rich Strasburgian mellowness of language. I wish I knew. There is a way of finding out whether a person is the one you want, I 24 THE DAP.K HOUr. CF.KORK DvWX. wish I could remember — it can't bo measuring ]m.t linigJit — oh! I know, I'll ask her name. That's it, I am sure (liaL'.s it. {.Uotid] You'll excuse me, I know, ma'am — but would you be good enough tc tell me if your name is — ^bkss me ! I've forgotten it — oh ! I recollect — if your uame is Savonnette 1 Cec. It. is not, sir. Bar. I /mew that was the way of finding out. Then you aie not my washerwoman? Good gracious! I'm quite shocked — I'm sure. Ccc. There is a person of that name up stairs, I believe. Bar. [Horror-struck.] Upstairs! Eight stories! Why, she must live on the roof ! You see, ma'am, I don't mind telling you — you live so near her — the last batch of — what .shall I call it — I don't like to say clean clothes— regenerated haberdashery we' 11 call it — was not altogether complete. Mrs. Savonette's dozen's are quite apt to con- sist of eleven pieces. In short — there was an article of — drapery missing. I tell you these little details, for I knew you'd be interes- ted. Up stairs, you say? Bye, bye — I'll let you know if I find it. Going. — Meets La Touk, who enters. How d'ye do ? — Can't see you — suppose I know you — no matter whether I do or not — good bye ! [Exit. Cec. Oh, brother, how glad I am to see you ! [La Tour repels her. Bar. [LooJcincf in.] Is this ladder the stairs'? La T. Get out, sir! [Bauon shuts door hastily. Cec. Oh! Joseph! Speak to me— speak to your wretched sister! [A noise heard unlhout as of some one falling down a ladder.] The poor man must have hurt himself. La T. He may break his neck if be likes. Do not touch me Cecile ! Cec. Y^ou do not — you cannot believe me guilty ? La T. 1 have not come here to listen to your denials, or to be moved by your tears. I have come to make arrangements for your future life. I go back to the country to-morrow. Cec. [Tremhlingly.] Alone? La T. Alone. Cec. And you leave me here by myself? Will you not take me home 1 La T. Henceforth you have no home. Cec. Then you do believe me guilty ! The thought is unworthy of you, Joseph. La T. Such observation was to be expected, madam. With a tar- nished soul, you possess a ribald tongue. Ci'c. Oh. forgive me, Joseph — I know not what I say. My heart is wrung with anguish — no wonder that my lips speak bitterly. La T. Enough of this. Listen— your husband, as you are aware, has made no provision for your support. I respect and esteem him for it — it proves his nice and delicate sense of honor. [A knock at door.] If that is the Baron again, I'll hurl him down stairs. [Goes to door. THE DARK HO0R BEFORE DATTN. 25 Enter Papillon. Cec. Edward's servant? what can ho wish with me? Pap. My master sent rae wiHi this letter to you, madarae, and bade me wait for an answer. [Aside.] Poor lady ! La T. Read it, madamo. Cec. I cannot ; my tears blind me ! [Wcps. La T. My eyes are free from the result of penitence or shaim'. \Rcads Idler.'] " Madame, I appreciate the motive which has led you to withdraw from beneath my roof, but it is not my intention to per- mit you to depend upon the sympathy of strangers, or upon the })()unty of your brother. I cannot allow one who has borne my name, even though she has dragged it in the mire, either to suffer for the necessaries of life, or to be compelled to descend to labor to obtain them. Inclosed is a sum of money, which will be renewed at proper intervals. In whatever scenes you may pass your future years, I trust you will school yourself to forget the hour in which you cro.s«i'd my threshold. Happy would it l>e lor me could I look forward to the same sweet oblivion. Edward, Viscomte de Rosiere." Vec. And he believes it! — lie never loved me! [Weeps. Lt T. [Folds Ictier.] Return this to your master, and say it is all the answer it deserves. Pap. [Emhurrassed] Madame, Muscadine gave me a message to give to you. If you would condescend to care what a chambermaid feels, or says — Cec. Tell rae, good Papillon j what message could Muscadine send to one so lost as 1 ? Pap. Muscadine says that she and rae — were going to be married next week — but now, after what has happened, she's going to put it off a year. Cec. Kind Muscadine ! But tell her not to make herself and you unhappy, because I am so. One in a household is enough. Pop. Oil ! Muscadine doesn't believe a word of it, ma'am. [Going, ichiiiipcring.] / dou't believe a word of it! [At door, blubbering out- rigid.] We don't any of us Vjelieve it in the kitchen ! [Exit. L'l T. And now, madarae, listen to my determination. Cec. Oh ! do not act rashly, Joseph, my brother, my last and only friend on earth. I shall endeavor to speak with cahnenss, even amidst my sorrow and indignation. Reason may serve me when af- fection has failed. This man, this vile accuser — did you ever see him before"? La T. Men of his stamp are fertile in disguises. He may have worn a mask then, or he wears one now. Cec. Was I ever absent from your home 1 La T. I know not Tiie nights are sometimes long, and those who toil in the fields by day are apt to sleep soundly then, I labored hard and re-!ted well — I know not. Cec. Did you ever detect the blush of guilt upon my cheek? La T. The guilty never blush. An end to this. Your perfidy waa but too well established. I am resolved. 26 THE DARK HOUTR BEFORE DAWS. Gee. One moment, Joseph. For ten years, this liltlc cross — my mo- ther's dying g-ft — has never left my neclv. Upon t!iat cross, I swear — La T. Degraded woman ! would you profane that holy relic with a false oath ? Cec. \^Breaking from 7im.] Oh, believe my words, or I shall go mad ! I am innocent! — your sister swears it, Joseph, on our mother's cro?s! La T. [Snatching the cross.] Sister no longer — wretched woman, Btubborn of heart a:? you are false and worthless, from this time for- ward I never see you more ! [CECijji: faUs xipon her knees — La Todr staggers towards door. Closed in. SCENE 11.— Interior. Enter Papillon and Mcscadine, meeting. Pap. "Well, Muscadine, I've seen her. Mus. Did you give her my message ? Pap. Yes, and she said you were a kind, good girl, and that I was a beautiful and estimable young man, and that we mustn't wait to get married. Mus. Oh ! she said that, did she ? Paji. Yes, she said there was no reason why you should be wretched because she is. 3Ius. Well, I declare ! Do you suppose it would make me wretched not to marry you 1 Pap. Why not ? — it makes me wretched not to marry you. Rosebud. Oh, what a life I lead ! I sleep like a log all night, and I don't do any work in the day. My appetite i« quite unnatural ; the cook says I eat like an earthquake, and the butler complains that I drink like a whirlpool. I counted my pulse yeslerday — how much do you think 1 163 in the shade! I'm almost sure I shall die young, or, if 1 don't, that something frightful will happen to my mind. Mus. Oh ! I don't want to marry a man that's got anything the matter with his mind. Pap. Oh, there hasn't anything happened to it, yet — it's bubbling with intelligence at present, and to test it, last night, I wrote a son- net to your cruelty. Mus. A what 1 Pap. A sonnet — so called by us poets, because it only has seven lines. Some people like fourteen, but servants, with a proper sense of their position, never puts but seven. Mus. Well, what do you do when you can't finish in seven lines? Pap. Then we break off where we are, and leave the rest to luck. I'll read you what I wrote. [Opens a paper and reads. Oh, Muscadine— Oh, Muscadine, Why are you so obs/mate ? Mus. Obstinate? Pap. Yes, this sonnet being in long metre, you have to say obs^mate, or else it won't rhyme. Us poets call that sort of thing a poetical licentiousness. AIus. Yes, poets always are licentious, they say. Go on. THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 27 Pap. Ob. MuPCtidine — Oh, Ainscadine, Why an; yon .«o obs^//Mvte, I do so wi.-^h you'd many me, Thai I can't wait a minnit. Mus. You'll have to wait a good many minutes tho'. I'm thinking. Fap. Good gracious, Musk, can a poet be liceutious or not ? Don't interrupt. {Reads Id verse. Oh. Muscadine — Ob Muscadine. You really hadn't orter. For if you would but marry me — \_Folds up paper. That's all. I think (here's mind there. Mils. Rut there's no end to it. Pup. I can't help that — T can't ofFcnd the rules of poesy, can 11 One line more, and it wouldn't have been a sonnet. Mus. What would it have been 1 Pap. Well, it would have been a roundelay, or a doggerel as the case might be. 3Ius. A dog-gerel ? Pap. Some poets fay ca/terel. Mus. Let me see if 1 can't make a doggerel of it. Oh. Muscadine, Oh, Muscadine, You really hadn't orter, For if you would but marry me — I'd keep you in hot water! There's a poetical finish for you, that has the peculiar advantacre of being perfectly true. [Exit. Pap. Well, the hottest water will cool in time, and when we're mar- ried I'll take pretty good care that she doesn't boil over, very often! at all events I'll set my sonnet to music. How I should like to hear old Capuchin, the priest, say, one of these days — ' the choir will sing two verses of Mr. Papillon's doggerel, omitting the last line." Decidedly. I think my chances are looking up, [feeling his tvriH.] — and my pulse is coming down. [Exit. SCENE lU—The CnbarcC—[As before.]— Fxrx Ciiauvk Souris, Trb- BCCUET, &c., discovered. La Tour at table, alone. Papa. [To Trkbouchet, u-ho is about to drink.] — Slop! put that down I Tre. Well ! I was going to put it down 1 Papa. No drinking 'till the hero comes, then we'll drain a glorious bumper together ! there'll be nothing to pay for any of you to-night. La T. [Aside ] — In this low den, the most obscure that I could find, let m(! in drink forget myself and my disgrace, at least for a time. Pupa. He's coming in his new magnificent wardrobe, to do honor to the occasion ! oh, he isn't proud, don't be afraid, he's one of us yet ! here'^ to him. [About to drink. Tre. Here ! stop — now tjou put that down ! Papa. It's the force of habit — I swear I forgot. La T. Will, as. I came to drink, I think I may as well be served, [Rapping upon table.] — Here! host 28 THE DARK HOnR BEFORE DAWy. Papa. Sir ! hallo ! a stranger ] La 2. Have no fears of me, my friend ! however desperate may be the fortunes of ray aissociates, tliey may well be envied when com- pared with mine ! go let me have a bottle of your strongest and best. [A gued gets under his own table, and unpcrceived indulges in pri- vate libations.] Papa. With alacrity sir ! outside of law or in, you may drink in salety here, only I must beg you, out of deference to the object, in which this little family party is assembled, to abstain from imbibition till the guest of the evening is among us. A kindred spirit, sir, a congenial soul ; in short, in the language of the sages, he's " the Ulysses of roguery, and the Ajax of law despisers." [Goes for ivine. La T. Who may this classic scapegrace be ? he must come soon, at any rate, or I shall begin the revel alone. The thought will some- times haunt me that I have treated poor Cecile too harshly! pshaw ! this lethean draught will drown conscience as well as memory. Pap. [Wilhicine] Here it is, sir! but be good enough to bear in mind the little recommendation I just gave you. I place this goblet and this tankard under the guardianship of your sacred honor. La T. {Aside.] This is ^ droll world ! shame in the cottage and honor in tne stews. Tre. \At door.] He's coming ! he's here ! gentlemen, His Majesty, the King of the Galleys, otherwise known as His Grace, the Marquis dc Mousseron. Enter La Force. La T. Ha I what's that 1 — he here, in this den of thieves. [.dsicZe. La F. Gentlemen, I see by your arid lips and parched expressions, that you have not wet your fiery throats ; as you are not, as a class, used to self-restraint of any kind, I deeply appreciate the compli- ment. But I will not keep you waiting. \Ve will open the ceremo- nies with a toast! let us drink to the health of — [laughing] — Her Gr;ice — {exploding] — the Marquise de Mousseron. [2'liey drink. La T. {A&idc] The scoundrel ! La F. Another to the phoenix of idiots, the Vicomte de Rosiere ! another to the prince of paymaster's, Alfred de Senneville. La T. {Aside.l What's this 1 what's this ? down, throbbing heart. La F. Ah ! gentlemen, what a night it was ! how I regret that your social position forbids your mingling in such festive scenes. My thoughts were upon ye, comrades, throughout that eventful evening, and 1 said to myself, " if I had but half-a-dozen of 'em with me, what a liusrering we'd have among the spoons !" oh ! the agony it was to Ijthold the silver, and the gold, and the precious stones, the dia- monds pt udant from delicate ears, tnat, with a snatch I could have torn hum the yielding flesh : the rubies encircling slender wrists, — rubies glowing and palpitating as with hot, living blood ; emeralds and topazes sparkling upon patrician fingers, that other fingers, these for instance, might have loosened with a touch ; to behold all tJiis, and be obliged to restrain myself. What agony to feel all the greed of the thief and be forced to wear the nonchalance of the peer ; to muffle the iron hand within the velvet glove. I hope you may never be placed under such a trial, you couldn't stand it. ■ THE DARK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 29 Tre. Of course we conld'nt ! I coxiUln't for one. La T. The galleys for life, if you were cauKlit. There was one moment when I thought /couldn't stand it When he presented me to a grand lady under circumstances which rendered it proper that I should kiss her hand. I bent over her jeweled wrist ! A string of milk-white pearls ran round and round, in accumulating strands, her lovely arm. My lips touched them — my breath clouded them — I could have plunged my fangs into the priceless mass, torn asunder the delicate thread which bound them, and swallowed a hundred of them raw ! Do you think I did it? No ; though my heart thumped, and my eyes glistened ! I raised my head — drew out my handker- chief — so — and spoke in the following style : [Imitating manner of an exquisite.] A charming evening. Duchess, though it looks consura- edly like rain. La T. [Aside bitterhj.] And this despicable wretch is my sister's— Oh, Cecile ! La F. But the evening was not altogether lost, after all. I had my eyes about me. I peered into store-rooms, cupboards, pantries. 1 know where to lay my hand on the soup-ladle in the dark — solid silver and two feet long. I saw the golden tea-service, gleaming in its rosewood prison. I know where to plant the ladder, and wher3 to ply the wire. I'll bring back twenty brimming bags of plunder! Om««. Bravo! Bravo! [All drink. La. T. [Aside:\ The blessed chance be thanked that led me here I [Pretends to drink, but throtos toine away i may adniil, Uie life-sustaining air ■? No, all is close ; and slill ihe lo.ii; sleep I yearn for will not shroud me in forgetfulness. Oh, hu.-batnl I brother ! — both so dearly loved, and both so cruel and unjust — may lieaven keep ever from your knowledge the great wrong that you liave done, for I forgive you from my soul! You were deceived by that most wicked lie^ and with my last breath of life will I pray that you may never feel such remorse as would await the truth's discovery ! The air is laden with the stiflins vapor ; it circles cloud-like through the place ; a strong, pungent odor fills my sense with every inspira- tion, and yet the stubborn flame within will not be quenched ! Why is It so hard to die 1 Oh, for some quicker means ! To live with the dead fellowship of a corrupted name — no, no! Come, merciful darkness — come ! Ha ! there's a gasp — a blinding flash across my eyes, that now dilate with pain! It has arrived — the wished-for moment ! Yes. my brain reels, and now the clouds are heavenly bvight! — and see ! it is, it is my mother! She smiles upon me, for she knows my truth and innocence! I come, mother ! I come ! [Sinks on conch. La Topr knocks voilently at door, which is barred across, calling, " Cecile ! sister! it is I V— finally, the door is burst open, and La Tour rushes in. La T. What mean these suffocating fumes ? Cecile, my sister ! Pah ! I shall stifle here ! \Sees pan of charcoal.] Powers of mercy ! what do I behold 7 I have murdered her — her pure and sensitive heart was broken by my brutal words ! [Dashes open the window and throws out ihe pan of charcoal, then bears Cecile to open win- dow J My sister! my innocent, true, noble girl ! Oh, heaven ! let not my siiul be cursed e;ernally by this fearful crime ! Ha ! she revives ! Yes, God be thanked I the life-blood rises to her pale cheek. Dont tremble, my poor, wounded dove; a brother's arms are clasped around thee ! Cec. [Reviving, looks at La Tour, slowly recognizing him, then breaks away, hiding her face in her hands-] Come not near me ! Oh ! vvliy ilid you recall me to the hated world again] La T. To bill thee live for honor, Cecile ! To bring thee back the symbol of your purity and truth, our mother's dying gift ! [Puts cross on her neck.] My sister ! Cec. It is ! and now the sudden life leaps to my heart ! Oh, bro- ther ! let me weep I These are the first tears that I have shed. They 32 THE DARK HOUR BEFOKH DAWN. do not flow from sliame, mj' bvother, for I am iniiocf-nt — indeed [ am innocent ! La T. I know it, darliiii; — I know it! Calm thyself. It was a foul plot ; a base, maliiinaiil slander. Bnt I liave di.scovei'ed, and in time shall e.xpose the villain.^ who concocted it. Nay, it is I wlio should di'op tears of anouish for liavins doubted for an instant 30ur true heart. Take courage, dearest, and pi'epare thyself, for he is comiiiir, repentant as myself, to retake thee to his home and love. I hurried on before — forever blessed be tlie impulse that ursed me here ! I shudder now to tiiink of the dark I'ate that hung on those few mo- ments ! Cec. [Hurriedly.] Hark I. 'tis his footstep, brother. Will lie restore co mo liis love and confidence 1 Deceive me not, f^ir if the slightest shadow of suspicion yet remain, 'twould haunt me like an ever-present fear. La T. There's not a trace, a particle ; your purity and truth estab- lislied clear as the summer sky. Be all thyself — he's here. Enter Viscomte de Rosieke — he rushes to Cecile. Vis. My love, my angel wife — forgive ! Cec. [Falling into his arms.] My husband ! Tableau. SCENE II. — Apartment at De Rosiere's. Enter Baron de Tkop, spectacles on his forehead. Bar. I must have left them here. They're not at home, and I'm sure I liaii ihem when that scene took place. I'll buy a dozen pair, and hni.rr iheni around my neck. [Goes through door. Enter Papillon and Muscadine. Pap. Well, Rosebuil, thanks to tlie varieirated composition of thy immaculate sex, we're bachelors rigain. Another levolution ! The imperial ru'e is at an end, and we return to our republic. Know'st tlioii what a re])ublic is. Mignonette 1 Mus. No; do 2/oi/, ButierOy 1 P(ip Wi'll, yi's ; as much as any true Frenchman does, I believe. Mns. What is it 1 Is it go'.>d for us 1 — if not, I don't care anything .iji'iur it.. Pap Well ieasoned, Mariiiold ; that's good world-argument. You won't lack compnnions in that school of philosophy. But to speak sa.:i'!y, your leimlilic is a plain thing of many musters and few ser- v:iiits. wlii'e yo\n' jmre monarchy is a glittering thing of many ser- vanis and ('ne ni:i.sier. Marts of the current con- versation, invention enough to heighten their worst features, and in- dustry eiiough to circulate them through the community of merci- less tale-bearers and tattlers of ivhich you are a shining example ; now listen to me. Baron ! if I ever hear that you have dared to utter a syllable against the wife of the Viscomte de Rosiere, I'll take the liberty of making your eais as dull as your eyes, and deprive your slanderous tongue of both it's accom])lices, by slicing them off 1 have I made myself perfectly intelligible 1 Bar. Perfectly, I must confess. La T. Then, Baron, I have the honor to wish you a good daj'. Bar. Sir, I'm your most humble servant. — [£'xii La Tour.] I be- lieve I'm awake — but upon my life I hardly know ; was there ever such a dangerous ruffian ; out my ears off — and for what — for speak- ing against her; how can I speak for her after what 1 saw? faith, I won't hold my tongue, and why should 11 I won't be intinydated by this impudent varlet ; didn't I see enough to convince me of her infi- delity. — Oh Lord! I thought I heard him coming back! — [Claps hands on his ears.] Good gracious; that's strange ! why, here are my spectacles, I declare, after all ; who could have possibly put them there, for I'll take my oath I didn't; I'll keep an eye on this fellow, the Viscomte must know what a model Intendant he's blessed with. [Fxit c. door. SCENE III. — Reception Room, as before — Night. Partially lighted. Window, practicable, at back. La Tour and Viscomte discovered. La T. It will soon be time for me to expect my rascally accom- plice. Have you removed the most valuable of your things ? Vis. Yes, there is nothing left of consequence. La T. I have prepared a fine trap for his rogueship. Here is a brave package of worthless money, a dazzling quantity of copper roulous, and a brilliant display of invaluable jewelry, that will make his eyes dance. Vis, But how do you wish us to proceed 1 Shall we secure him in the act of robbery 1 La T. By no means. We must both escap2. I mean to disgrace and discomfit the whole villainous batch together. I have it all planned. Hark! a stealthy footstep. [Goes to keyhole.] Confusion! it's that malapro[)os Baron. He's watching me. Never mind, let him como; we may need a witness. Away, and leave him to me ! [Exit Viscomte. THE DARK U->VR BUFOHE DAW.S. 35 Bakon de Trop enters cautiously, sees La Tour just opening escri- toire and looking round as if fearful of being seen. Bar. As I'm ca live Baron, the rascal is robbing bis master. [Hides behind screen. La T. Pshaw! there's nothing here, after all. It's well that owl of a Baron didn't suspect me, or I would have silenced him pretty quickly. \_Drawing knife. Barox grimaces.] Hold ! how do I know there is not somebody concealed in the room at this moment "? If so, lie had belter go to his prayers. [Looks under table. As he crosses, Baron gets under the same. Bar. Good heavens ! I'm goose-flesh all over. La T. [Aside.] I think I shall cure you, ray friend, of prying — ha! ha I All right ; there's no one. Now for our job. [Goes to window.] Hist ! are von there "* La F. ['without.] All right. Bar. Gracious me ! there's another. I wish I were in the bottom of a well ! An icy stream is running down my back-bone ! Enter La Force, through window. Baron sees him. Jiang me if it isn't the Marquis ! Here's atrocious villainy ! What shall I do"? Cry out and have an indigestible supper of cold steel 1 Mo, I'll watch the scoundrels closely. La F. Is all safe 1 La T. Safe as the Bastile. La F. Phew ! don't mention that establishment. Then let us be quick about the business. La T. The deuce take the luck ! I'm afraid we shall get but little for our pains. I can see no trace of money. La F. Malediction I you don't say so ! Ha ! here it is, [aside, while La Tour's back is towards him] in heaps — prodigious heaps I [Alovd] No money — that's too bad ; but let us take what we can find, at all events. [Stuffs the money, ^'c, into his pocket, slyly. La T. [Aside.] Honor among thieves is a doubtful axiom. The vagabond is robbing his associate. La F. [Stumbling upon Baron's feet, who utters an exclamation of pain.] Ha! a spy! Who is if? [X'^'^^'s owi De Trop.J I'll make short work with you, my intrusive friend ! [Draws knife. Bar. [On his knees.] Mercy, good Marquis ! mercy ! La F. What, that you may use your tonge against us ? No, your hour has come. La T. Hold! we'll have no bloodshed. The Baron is discreet; he loves his ears too well to put them in jeopardy. Bar. I'll make a vow of perpetual silence ; only spare my life ! La F. Remain where you are then ; if you move a step, or utter a sound, your doom is sealed ; but first we'll trouble you for whatever loose valuables you have about you ! a purse, not over-full, and a pair of gold spectacles. ■ Bar. Don't deprive me of those ! ah ! there they go again ; gra- cious me ; here's a situation for a nobleman. [La Force ihreatent.'\ There ! I've done. 86 TIIK DARK HOUR BEFOnE DAWN. La F. Now, by your leave, we must make sure of your silence. — [Takes cloth from table and binds it round De Trop's head] Remem- ber, the knife is at your liuoat if you stir. [Tolih. Tour.] U's useless to continue our scarcl), let us be off with what we have secured. La T. Agreed! though it's cursed haid fortune not to have found the money. \_Tliey exit through window. Bar. For Heaven's sake, take off this bandase ; phew — I'm smo- therina ! I believe the villains have gone; help — murder — robbery; hollo-there : l"m dying, stifling ; murder ! Enter Yiscomte, Papillon, Muscadine and Servants. — They re- move cloth from De Tkop's head. Vis. What's the matter, Baron 1 Bar. The matter! — oh, it's frightful ; only think. La T. [At door.] Beware! Bar. Gcod Lord ! [Drops on his knees.] — My ears ; that scound- rel's impudence is majestic ! La Tour a)id Viscomte exchange glances. — Tableau. END OF ACT IV. ACT V. SCENE I. — Drawing room at the VrscoMTEs. — Elegantly furnished. — Morning. Enter Papillon /rom side door, L. H. Pap. By the manes of Proteus, but this is a most mutable house- hold ! We have had another revolution already — such a thing waa never known before. The Empire is re-established firmer than ever, to judge by the affectionate attitude of the high contracting parties. Enter Muscadine, b. h., with a salver of chocolate. Pap. Well, my female minister of the interior! 1 see you have given in your adhesion to the new order of things ! Mus. Yes, I thought I'd follow the example of my betters, and keep my place through all changes. Pap. You improve. Primrose ! Imbued by our reflected light, you grow profoundly political — and have touched the very heart of state- craft! Administrations are variable — but salaries fixed, and it's only your rusty weathervane that won't turn whatever way the wind may blow ! Mus, But is it true, butterfly, that the house was robbed last night 1 Pop. Yes, I believe our treasury was slightly dipped into, and by THE DAUK HOUR BEFORE DAWN. 37 non-ofScial fingers, too, A sliamefiil departure from established usage, sliould it so turn out. liut I'm inclined to tliink your Monsieur Motb knows something of the matter, tuid has but duly exercist-d the privi- lege of placo. [A hell heard. Miis. G.i cents. Plays 12^2 Cciit8 Bach. Bound Volnines. $1. tcy- Plajt leot by mall, and po«ta|!e pre-paid, on receipt of 12>^ oenti each. In money or itunpe. Ten plars aeut by express for one dollar. THE GUIDE TO THE STAGE, Containini; OLEAB AND AlOL^ ^sSlcOTIONS FOR OBTAINING THEATRICAL EN- GAGEMENTS, With a List Oi the Prorraoial Theaters, Names of the Managers, and Particulars as to Salaries. Rules, Fines, &c., and a Clear Elucidation of all the Technicalities of the His- trionic Art. To which is added A I.IST OF THE LONDON THEATKRS, And Copies of their Rules and Articles of Engagement. By LEMAN THOMAS REDE. 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School for Orators: An Original Comedy And Eighteen Selected Pieces. No 1 CONTAINS Guy Fnwkes ; An Historical Drama. The Man vrlth the Carpet Bag ; A Karen. White Horse ot the Peppers; A I'limic Drama. Slesinerlsin; A Petite Comedy. And Twelre selected Pieces. O^Prlce per Number, Paper Covers, 2S cts. each. The two Numbers bound in Cloth, School .Style, 6U cents. 9^ Sent by mall, post-paid, on receipt of Price. t^ All orders will receive prompt attention. 49~A New Play will be published every week. 8. FRENCH, 122 Nassau Strbbt. (up stairs,) N. T. B^ Important oliange In the poetage lair : All tianilent matter must be pre-paM. FRENCH'S . -^-^^ ^, _. 015 971 099 3 • Price 12)4 Cents eacn.— jcsoxma \roiuiuea ^x. VOL. I. 1 The Irish Atiomcy, 2 Boots at the Swan, S How to Pay the Rent, i The Loan of a Lover, 5 The Dead Shot, 6 His Last Legs, 7 The Invisible Prince, 8 The Golden Farmer. With a Portrait and Me- moir of JUHN SEFTON. VOL. V. 33. Cocltnies in California 84. Who Speaks First? S5. Bombastus Fnrioso, 86. Macbelh Traveslie. 87. Irish Ambassador, 88. Itolicate (Ground, 89. Tlie ^^■eathe^coc■k, 40. All that Glitters Is not Gold. With a Portrait and Me- moir of W. A. GOOaLL. VOL. IX. 65 Temptation. 66 Paddy Carey, C7 Two Gregories, 63 King Charming, 69 Po-ca-hon-las, 70 Cloclimaker's Hat, 71 Married Kake, 72 Love and Murder. VOL. XIII. 97 My Wife's Mirror, 98 Life in New York, 99 Middy Ashore, 100 Crown Piince, 101 Two Queens, 102 Thumping Legacy, 103 UafinishedGentleman 104 House Dog. VOL. XVII. 129 Mischief-Making, 130 A Live AVoman in the 131 The Corsair, [Mines, 132 Shylock, 133 Spoiled Child, 134 Evil Eye, l,3j Nothing to Nnrse, 1.36 Wanted a Widow. VOL. XXI. I 161 Promotion, [vidual.l 162 A Fascinating Indi- \ 163 Mrs. Caudle, I 164Shakspeare's Dream, 165 Neptnno's Defeat, 166 Ladv of Bedchamber, 167 Take Care of Little Charley, 168 Irish Widow, I VOL.11. 9. Pride of the Market, 10. Used Up, 11. The Irish Tutor, 12. The Barrack Room, 13. Luke the Laborer, 14. Beauty and the Beast, 15. St. Patrick's Eve, 16. Captain of the Watch. With a Portrait and Me- moir of Miss C. WEM- YSS. VOL. VI. 41. Grimshaw, Bagshaw and Bradsliaw, 42. Rough Diamond, 43. Bloomer Costume, 44. Two Bonnycastles, 45. Born to Good Lnck, 46. Kiss in the Dark, 47. 'Twould Puzzle a Conjuror, 48. Kill or Cure. With a Portrait and Me- moir of F. M. KEXT. VOL. X. 73 Ireland and America, 74 Pretty Piece of Bu.si- ncss, 75 Irish Broom-maker, 76 To Paris and Back for Five Pounds, 77 That Blessed Baby 78 Our Gal, 79 Swiss Cottage, 80 Young A\'idow. VOL. XIV. 105 The Demon Lover, 106 MatrinioiiV, 107 In and Out of Place, 108 I Dine with My Mo- 109 Hi-a-wa-tha, [ther, 110 Audy Blake, 111 Love in '76, [oulties 112 Bomauce under DiOi- voL. x'\mi. 137 Lottery Ticket, 138 Fortune's Frolic, 139 Is he Jealous 7 140 Married Bachelor, 141 Husband at Sight, 142 Irishman in London, 143 Animal Magnetism, 144 Highways & By- Ways Vol. III. 17 The Secret, [Peppers 18 White Horse of the 19 The Jacobite, 20 Tlie Bottle. 21 BoXHudCox, 22 Bamboozling, 23 Widow's Victim, 24 Robert Macaire. With a Portrait and Me- moir of Mr. y. 3. CHANFHAU. VOL. VII. 49 Box and Cox Married 50 St. Cupid [and Settled 51 Go-to-bed Tom, 52 The Lawyers, 53 Jack .Sheppard, 54 The Toodles, 55 The Mobcap, 56 Ladies Beware. With a Portrait and Me- moir of SOL. SMITH. VOL. XI. 81 O'FIannigan and the 82 Irish Post, [Faries 83 My Neighbor's Wife, 84 Irish Tiger, 85 P. P., or Man & Tiger, 86 To Oblige Benson 87 State Secrets, \ 88 Irish Yankee. VOL. 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