^^J* w\ m rZ3C*77/ W>ht €on A DRAMA, IN FIVE ACTS. FIRST PERFORMED AT BURTON'S NEW THEATER, NEW YORK, MARCH 10, 1858 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1S58, by F. WIDDOW>. In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Catted States for the Southern District of New York. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY F. WIDDOWS, 1858. %\i €ou$ d'etat; A DRAMA, IN FIVE ACTS FIRST PERFORMED AT BURTON S NEW THEATER, NEW YORK, MARCH 10, 1858 Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1S58, by F. WIDDOWS, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New fork. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY P. WIDDOWS, 1858. DRAMATIS PERSON M. i »'^i> i < Napoleon Bonaparte, President of the French Republic, afterwards Emperor,. .Mr. Barrett. Abbe de Lamarque, Chief of the Secret Agents of the Government, Mr. C. Fisher. Bertin, one of the chief spies in the service of the Able, Mr. Setchell. Simon Lecour, Valet of Gen'l Be Choiseul, and a Spy in the service of the Alibi, Mr. Moore. Di Mai-pas, Prefect of Police, Mr. Briggs. Maurice Beaumont, a French citizen, i tilican Club — 27(6 Mountain, .Mr. MacRac. George Beaumont, his adopted son, a Republican Leader Mr. E. L. Davenport. Gen'l De Choiseul, Commanding a Brigade of the Army in Paris, Mr. M. Smith. Machard, a Republican, Secretary of the Mountain Club, Mr. Keyser. Capt'n Gcimard, 1 f Mr. Seymour. Rooet, i j Mr. Bishop. T . f Republicans and Members of the Mountain Club, S -*r.. Tjolman Dufour, J I Mr. Vernon. Rena id, a Workman, Mr. Silveria. Baudin, a Republican Member of the National Assembly, Mr. Wharton. Gen'l St. Ai:n.u», Minister of War, Commander-in-Chief of the French Army, Mr. Hunt. Gbn'l Magnan, Commander-in-Chief of the Army in Peris, Mr. Farrell. Gen'l Canrobert, Commanding a Brigade of the Army in Paris, Mr. Hamblin. Gen'l Forey, the same, Mr. Randall. Lieut. Col. Beville, of the Commander-in-Chief's Staff, Mr. Warden. Col. Espinasse, Commanding the 4:2nd Regiment of the Line, Mr. Stuart. Col. Vietra, of the Commander of the National Guards' Staff, Mr. Emerson. Cap't Doisy, Commanding ith Company, 1st Batallion Gendarmerie, Mr. F. Hodges. M. St. George, Director oftlie National Printing Office, Mr. Geidhill. De Persiqny, friend of Louis Napoleon, and his chief agent in the Coup eVEtat, Mr. Stevens. Count de Mokny, half-brother of Louis Napoleon, Minister of the Interior, Mr. Leech. 1st Gendarme, Mr. Paul. 2nd Gendarme, Mr. Sinclair. 3rd Gendarme, Mr. Foster. A Page-in-Waiting of Louis Napoleon, Miss White. Coachman of Gen'l Be Choiseul, Mr. Lawson. Footman of Gen'l Be Choiseul, Mr. Jones. Servant of the Abbe de Lamarque Mr. Denham. A Jailor, Mr. George. Marie De Choiseil, Daughter of Gen'l Be Choiseul, Mrs. E. L. Davenport. Madame De Rohan, Mrs. A. Parker. Francesc a, Portress of Gen'l Be Choiseul, Mrs. Hughes. Soldiers or the Line, National Guards, Gens d'Armes, Citizens, Members, of the National Assembly, Servants, Workmen and Workwomen of Paris, Ladies and Gentlemen. The Scene is laid in Paris. Time of the first Act, November 30, 1851 ; of the second Act, Becember 1, 1851 ; of the third Act, Becember 4, 1851 ; of the fourth and fifth Acts, January, 185T. ™PS2-00a940 PREFACE. The writer has sought, by every available means, to render the historical por- tion of this drama minutely accurate ; and he takes this opportunity of making his acknowledgments to MM. Maud'uit, Matee, and Cassagnac, friends of Louis Napo- leon ; and to MM. Schalcher, Victor Hugo, Durrieu, Ribeyrolles, Magen, and Duprat, Republican exiles ; whose histories and various writings on the subject, are the chief sources whence he has drawn his facts. He is, likewise, under obligations to others for special narratives of some of the historical details here embodied, of which they were eye-witnesses. New York, March, 1858. Wxt <$jfm$ &%M) A DRAMA, IN FIVE ACTS. ACT FIRST. Scene First. — An Apartment in General De ChoiseuVs house in Paris. Time, Evening of Nov- ember 30, 1851. Enter severally Marie and General De Choiseul, meeting. General De Choiseul. My Jailing, Marie! Marie. Dearest father ! You are safely home, at last ! How very well you are looking! How much you have improved by your trip to England ! Come sit down and tell me all ! Is Claremont a pretty place! Did you leave our dear old Queen well ? How do the Princes bear their exile? And our dear friend, the Duchess of Orleans, how is she ? How do they all like England ? Genl. De 0. One thing at a time, dear Marie. Let me get breath, and I'll answer you. The English are a noble people, and their country the home of the exile. Our friends th ere are as happy as the expatriated can ever hope to be. — Now let me ask, has Madume De Rohan taken good care of you, Marie? Marie. Yes; she is tender and affectionate : — a second mother to me. Genl. De C. I am glad, my child, I left you in the kind keeping of my dear old friend, as my absence has been so prolonged. Mane. What made you stay ? Genl. De C. The reason for that, Marie, is no affair of a young lady's. Marie. 0, but it is an affair of mine, father, and though I have been brought up to love the Orleans family, yet I love you better, and I feel sure that you went to Clare- mont to plot to bring them back to the Tuilleries. Genl. De C. Well, child, suppose all this were true, what then ? Marie. Why you cannot do it, and besides it puts your life in jeopardy. Why will you not live quietly now, father, and let political plots alone? Have we not had Re- volutions enough ? Have we not a dear homo, and a government the people have made? Say yes — -do. Genl. De C. Well, well,— as you will. We'll talk of this, another time. Marie. Oh, let me show you my portrait just finished to-day. Isn't it sweet! (showing him a miniature, unset). Don't you think it is like me ? I know you'll say yes. Genl. De C. It is indeed, darling, and a beautiful picture ; and I shall give it a setting worthy of it. Ah, this was a surprise for me, my daughter! Marie. (Aside) I dare not say 'tis not for hinj. (Aloud). You like it, then, father. Genl. De V. Yes, the artist has caught your affectionate expression. (Kissing her.) Marie. Ob, I am so happy to be with you again ! I feel as if I love all the world — the earth, the sky, the trees, the flowers, and all I see. Genl. De C. I am glad to find you in such a loving mood. It may enable me all the better to impart to you apiece of news. I am growing old, my child ; and am troubled with the thought of what would be your fate, were you indeed to lose me as you fear. We live in times, Marie, when our poor country is wrenched with Revolutions; when the sacred spirit of loyalty has been sadly weakened or de- stroyed by the falsehoods of infidel philosophers and the accursed theories of depraved and moon-struck democrats, and crazier socialists ; the few knaves leading the many fools and fanatics. And I may as well, perhaps, apprise you now, as to defer it to another season, that this incer- titude of things, these constant clangers to myself, cause me many a heavy hour when I think of you. in a word, not only my age but the perils of civil "war which may soon come, make me anxious to see you with a younger and surer protector — to see you married, Marie. Oh father, that word startles me! Genl. De O. It upsets the equanimity of most maidens, — my pet. Maria. What, when they love, and look to marriage as the crown of hope ? De O. -Vo, not then ; but they seldom do so in real life. Marie. Why you loved, dear father? Genl. De C. Yes, I did. Marie. And mamma as well? Gml. De C. True. Marie. Why, then, not let me take my parents for a guide? Why with me make a traffic of religion's very heart, — the sacramental love of woman? And father, can / do wrong to imitate my mother ! Gcul.De C. Hardly, my child: and you shall imitate her. You shall fall in love. I have arranged for you a choice alliance — don't start so — with one possessed of out- ward graces to captivate a woman — besides an ancestry and princely patrimony. Marie. (Aside.) Oh, heavens! Gent. De C. Yes, an application for your hand has come from Colonel, the Count de Chabrillon. Marie. I will never marry him. Genl. De C. What, Marie?— Child are you crazed whence this unmaidenly burst of feeling? Come, Marie, don't stand pouting there, — come to my arms. And so you will never have Count de Chabrillon? 6 THE COUP D'ETAT. Act 1, Scene 1. Marie. Father, you would not have me dissimulate when ■ ■5 to such an awful issue — to the determination of my f i my child; but I would have ymi avoid opinion and hasty words. Marie. How ■•an one always be calm ? Genl. De 0. What does your religion teach you? Marie. Pray, do not bring iu religion to support the barter in women, selling them in marriage to the highest bidder, Genl. De (.'. What's all this, Marie: Such thoughts! Such language ! Who has been cramming your head in this way? Have ymi been reading George Sand, or Fou- rier, or Balzac? Marie '■ Genl. De C. Whence then these notions and this contu- You cannot be indebted to Madame de Rohan for them, surely ! Marie. Was not my mother firm in her resolve to marry you, though a far richer suitor than yourself was favored by her parents? ' Genl. De C. Yes. ie. Well, she was reckless of consequences in refus- ing that suitor. She would not control her heart at another's bidding, but gave it pure and beautiful as it came from its Maker's hand to you Touhave often said lam like her, futliHi-. 1 am indeed, Genl. De C. But, Marie, be reasonable, and I shall be just. De Chabrillon is well-looking. His family dates back to the 13th century, and his estates — Marie. Are immense ; and if I could wed houses, vine- yard.-, plate, upholstery and a family-vault, with the in- cumbrance of a common-place Colonel, I should think you right. Father, I beg you not to urge this matter — because— (She pauses.) . De C. Marie, whence all this confusion of manner ? A thought comes over me. Your glib philosophy on mar- riage and so-forth, arises from — look me in the face, my girl — from a special cause. You fancy that you prefer somebody. Who has dared to take advantage of my ab- sence to chatter nonsense in your private ear? Marie. Don't be angry with me ? Genl. De C. — (Aside.) I must be gentle, for like her im- ttalian mother she can be led, not forced. (Aloud.) Marie, child, do you imagine that you love any one? (A pause.) Speak, darling. (A pause.) Silent yet? (A pause.) Well, take your time; collect yourself, and tell me the whole truth. Speak plainly — have you any hidden cause for refusing the offer of Count de Chabrillon? Marie. 1 have. Genl. De O. What is it '< ■ — give him the martyr's crown ; drape patriotism with folds of infamy ; and carry palorto the cheek of Mod- eration. The butchery of millions achieved with military forms, creation of a despot's will, is ranked as glory and the chance of war; but let this despot die by the assassin's hand, — even the hand of one whom he has reft of fortune, kindred, liberty, all save life, and he becomes a martyr over whom women pule, while men avenge his fate. Even the imaginary woes of the exile of St. Helena draw more sympathetic tears than the life-agonies and death throes of the millions of his victims whose blood manured the earth from Moscow to Madrid. No! No! Let us read prophecy in history — strike-down the oppressor in fair open fight; and thus a double death-blow hurl — to him and to sympa thy for his deserved fate. Let us do nought to create re- action. Guimard. Reaction, reaction, that is always the cry to strike terror. But remember that there will be no reac- tion if we leave none to react; and this time we must make clean work. This fellow Bonaparte fancies himself impe- rial with right divine to rule us. None are born to rule, extort the people's substance and waste it in wanton luxury and swaggering pomp. Ought the lives even often thou- sand such pretenders to outweigh the enfranchisement of forty millions such as us ? If their blood be a pure stream, ours is not ditch-water. Roget. Can a voice from 1793 be heard? Alt. Aye! Aye! {Great sensation.) Roget. These mutilated limbs are my testimony against kings, emperors and nobles. In '93, just fifty-eight years ago, I was asl am now for extirpating titles and privilege. And why ? Because then the privileged order scorned and crushed the people. Captain Guimard is right. A false humanity betrayed us, The Reign of Terror was terrible. But the people have been victims to a reign of terror for a thousand years. Within my life-time more than four mil lion Frenchmen have fallen victims to conscription — to conscription to fight the battles of emperors and kings. What was the guillotine to this? — I stand alone the last one of my race. My sons were all taken from me, and slaughtered under the First Napoleon. Will you and your sons consent to be slaughtered under a Second? Feeble is my frame now with the weight of ninety years, but my heart is green and tough for liberty. I say Captain Gui mard is right. A few voices. Yes! he is right! Many others. No ! No ! George Beaumont. Such words from age urging violent counsels are sad indeed. But I still hold to my opinion. We should not thus terrify the moderate men of France and Europe, and force them to make common cause against us. We should wait till Louis Bonaparte attempts his coup d'etat, and meet him blow for blow. Many voices. Aye! Aye! A few others. No ! No ! Lecour. {Aside.) I have drawn a prize with iny first ticket. This will be rare uews for Monsieur Bertin ! Maurice Beaumont. As President of this Club I am ready to meet all responsibilities, and seek not to avoid dangers. I have stretched a point in even listening to an argument in favor of assassination. We are Frenchmen — not assas- sins. Many Voices. Aye ! We are ! We are ! Maurice Beaumont. But rather than submit this vote I would resign. The immense majority, however, are against it. Many Voices. Aye, we are ! No vote ! — Let's adjourn I Let's adjourn ! Maurice Beaumont. As that is the general voice, I de- clare this session adjourned. — Long live the Republic ! All. (Enthusiastically.) Long live the Republic ! Curtain. Act 2, Scene 1. THE COUP D'ETAT. 9 ACT SECOND. Scene First. — The Abbe de Lamarque's Study. Time, Eve- ning of December 1, 1851. Tlie Abbe discovered at a table, in the centre of the stage, writing. At one side of him a screen so placed that a person entering the door must come down front so far as the table, beforeper- ceiving another in front of the screen. En- trance-door centre in rear. Enter a Servant. Servant (announcing) Madame de Rohan. Enter Madame de Rohan. Exit Servant. Abbe. (With, emotion.) Mathilde! Ever welcome ! Draw near the fire, for it is cold. You look sad ; sadder even than is your wont. Mad. de R. So do I feel. — Why, Ambrose, has it not oc- curred to you, that this is the first day of December, the birthday of our lost one ? Abbe. Heaven pardon me ; so it is. And I so wrapped in the eares of the Church and the State, forgot that this day is sacred to atonement for our common 6in ! Mad. de R. Will that sin ever be forgiven ? Abbi. Yes ! God may accept the expiation of your life devoted to His service ; and of mine consecrated to the restoration of the Church's pristine power, when it con- trolled the States, and kings were but its vassals. Mathilde, it wounds me to think that after two-and-twenty years of penance you should not yet be assured of Heaven's mercy. It doubles all my griefs to see you thus; for mine, which was the heavier fault, I fain would hope is pardoned, and that the single error of my youth cannot forever turn life's day to night. Mad. de R. How can I feel repose, while tortured by the thought, that through my most unnatural desertion, our poor child was lost to us — left, perhaps to die, perhaps to wither in the shades of penury or crime? — and when I think that I have wealth and friends, — position, lustre, and the world's regards, — I shrink in shame, and self-re- proach confounds me. Abbi. Heaven must be merciful to such contrition as your own, cleansed of all earthy dross — to one whose every hour is given to kindness and to charity. For myself, I may speak ; I have but one thought saving the desire to see you happy; and that is, the Church's glory. To me, she is the comforter ; the barrier old and high and strong, against the false philosophy, the insidious atheism, which undermined my early faith, when I fell before temptation and sinned — mortally. In her, I find the all-in-all of majesty and love. She transforms the infinite into the in- carnate ; turns the far concave of the skies into the close embrace of an ever-present God. Mad. de R. Ah, such words, Ambrose, lift my thoughts from deadening sorrow to a world of genial trust and hope ! Enter a Servant, who hands the Abbe a card. Abbe. (Reading.) Monsieur de Maupas, Prefect of Police." Ah, this admits of no delay. — Madame de Rohan, I must leave you here awhile, till I have had an interview with M. De Maupas. Mad. de R. Do not let me disturb you ! Receive him here; and I'll return again. Exit Madame de Rohan Abbe. (To the servant.) Did M. De Maupas enter. Exit Servant. Jii ■ nter Servant. Servant. (Announcing.) Monsieur De Maupas! Enter De Maupas. Exit Servant. Abbe. Ah, M. De Maupas, delighted to see you ! Pray be seated. De Maupas. M. L'Abbe, the President begs me to ask, if you have yet won over those officers whose adhesion has been doubtful ? Abbi. Yes, the affair is settled with all but two, Colonels Ledru and Gretry ; and as regards them I await the re- port of my people every instant. De Maupas. Every other point is fixed, and the coup d' etat takes place to-night. The Prince desires your earlv presence at the Palace. We shall all be there at the Ball. Abbe. I shall not fail to come. De Maupas. Your report will determine the fate of these doubtful officers. Abbe. Is General de Choiseul on your list of arrests? De Maupas. [ Taking out a memorandum book and looking. ] No: Cavaignac, Bedeau, Lamorici^re, and Leflo are the only Generals. Oh, I remember : De Choiseul's arrest was talked of in council. He arrived, only last night, from England. The proofs which your agents had furnished of the object of his visit to the Orleans family, might have been considered sufficient; but Colonel de Chabrillon, who stands so high in the Prince's favor, warmly espoused De Choiseul's cause, and pledged himself as surety for his fidelity. De Choiseul, at all events, hates the Republicans, so that he will never join them. But, as his house is head- quarters of the Orleanists, your people should watch him closely. Abbi. Ah, it was for that reason I sent such an urgent request to you for a valet, whom I may place in De Choi- seul's house. De Maupas. There is a man for your purpose ; — he will be here presently. But have you made a vacancy for him? Abbi. Yes: my people have seduced the General's valet away from him. The place will be vacant to-morrow ; and, with such recommendations as we shall give our new man, he will be sure to be accepted. De Maupas. Then we'll see you presently at the Palace, M. L'Abbe ? Abbi. Yes — (De Maupas going.) But a word more, M. De Maupas : — who is this person you send to De Choiseul's house ? De Maupas. (Looking in a memorandum-book, and tearing out a leaf.) This will tell you all about him. You will perceive that the fellow has been in the galleys; bnt he does not know that we are posted up with this fact in his history, and besides he has led a decent sort of life of late ; and if you make it sufficiently his interest, he may be trusted. He observes closely, and reports well. Au revoir. [Exit De Maupas. Abbi. (Reading the ■memorandum-leaf.) " Sfmon Lecour ?" — "A peasant near Rouen?" — " Condemned to the galleys in 1830, under the name of Simon Lebrun" — Good Heavens! It must be he! — and his condemnation, under an assumed name, accounts for his disappearance. Am I now, by lucky chance, to meet the man so vainly sought for more than twenty years? But where is his wife? Was she, too, the accomplice of his crimes? — and my boy, my boy, brought up by felons, and a felon, too? How my soul chills at the thought ! — Paternal love, which I deemed prayer and penance had drained from out my heart, leav- ing me but the servitor of Heaven and the Church, — now, rushing back, comes sweeping down all spiritual dykes, reared by time and suffering. How fortunate, Mathilde is here! She must share this joy with me. (He hurries to- wards the door, but pauses, and returns). But can she bear the shock? — I shall be cautious, then, and prepare her for it. (l J auscs). What dreams are these? Am I bereft of reason ? I know not yet he lives : and if he do, perchance an outcast — a felon like his foster-father. But whatever his fate, if our child still walk the earth, he must be dead to me — I dare not call him mine before the world. — O starved soul! charred heart ' 10 THE COUP DETAT. Act 2, Scenes 1 and 2. Enter a Servant. Servant. A man named Simon Leuour, wishes to speak with you, Monsieur L'Abbe". Abbi Bid him enter. | E. tit Servant. I must, be calm and cautious. In this sacred habit, and after I lie lapse of so many years, he caDnot recognize me: but I shall know him instantly. Enter Lecour. —(Aside.) Tis he! All doubt is passed! (To Lecour) What is your business ? our. M. De Maupas, the Prefect of Police, said that he would advise you of my coming, and recommend me for a valet's place now vacant among the secret agents. My name is Simon Lecour, and I have been employed by one of your chief agents, Monsieur Bertin. Abbe. Lecour! — I remember that Monsieur De Maupas did speak of you. But, my good fellow, I am afraid you have imposed on him. When you were in the galleys— (Lecour starts) your name was Simon Lebrun. Nay, start not, I know more of you. You were a peasant near Rouen, some twenty years ago : were sent to the galleys for rob- bery : made your escape, and are liable to be returned to serve the remainder of your term! Lecour. You do indeed, Monsieur L'Abbe know all. I thought I was safe at last. Do you mean to denounce me? Abbe. Perhaps not: you have nothing to fear, but every- thing to hope from me, if you will only serve me faith- fully and attempt no deception. Will you answer my questions truly ? Lecour. There can be no concealment from you, Monsieur L'Abbe. Abbi. Perhaps: and I may be seeking from the truth- fulness of your replies to my questions to discover if I may trust you for the place you ask. — Now how came you to leave your farm near Rouen in 1830? What month did you leave it '( Whither did you go? Did your wife accom- pany you? and where haveyou and she since been? — Tell me the whole story. Lecour. It was in July, 1830, that my wife and I left our cottage and came to Paris to place in a foundling-hospital a little child that 6he had nursed. A gentleman calling himself (Jeorgj Delisle had entrusted the infant to her care ; and during the time she nursed it, had made frequent visits from Paris to our little place, to see the child, to which he seemed tenderly attached. He never told its parentage, but we easily guessed it a child of love and shame, and a grand lady sometimes came with him to see it, and used to weep over it. She, no doubt, was its mother. He was liberal and paid us well ; but when he proposed to my wife that she should abandon the infant by leaving it at the gate of the foundling-hospital in Paris, and offered us money for the journey, she refused, and upbraided him with his cruel intent. To pacify her, Monsieur Delisle had to confess that his design was to protect the child, ne told my wife that a priest was its father and a lady its mother: that the lady's family had never known her shame, and since its birth had married her to one whom she did not love: — that she yearned for her child, and to obtain and adopt it without suspicion, had proposed this stratagem of having it placed in the hospital ; and that it might be recognized by a medal with the name of George, which Monsieur Delisle then fastened around its neck. My wife did not believe that a priest was its father. She believed that Monsieur Delisle was. Eut at last she consented. We arrived in Paris the 2Sth of July, 1830. My wife set out alone to leave the infant at the hospital gate. From that moment I lost all trace of them both. Abbe. (Aside.) Oh Heavens ! Lecour. Are you ill, sir? Shall I ring for the servant? Abbe. I am better now. I shall recover in a moment. I am subject to these attacks. It is a disease of the heart. 'Tis over. Proceed with your story. Lecour. My story is now soon ended. That was more than twenty-one years ago, — it was the day on which the Revo- lution of July commenced. I sought'my wife in the midst of dangers, but in vain. I heard of many women killed, so probably was she, as also the child. To drown my sorrow, I took to drink ; fell in with bad company ; with gamblers and thieves ; changed my name ; was implicated in a robbery committed while I was half-drunk ; was sent to the galleys for it ; escaped thence ; and since have lived an honest life, sometimes as valet, and sometimes as secret agent of the Marseilles police. Servant, (Announcing.) Madame De Rohan. Enter Madame de Mohan. Exit servant. She advances to the Abbe, and does not per- ceive. Lecour, who stands in front of the screen. Mad. de I{. (As she advances from the rear centre door.) Well, Ambrose, are you now at liberty? (Seeing Lecour.) Pardon me, I thought you were alone. Abbe. (To Madame de R.) I shall be in a moment. (To Lecour.) You can go now. To-morrow your service shall commence. Monsieur Bertin will arrange it. Lecour. (Aside, who has been gazing intently at Madame de Rohan.) It must be she. I'll test it. (to the Abbi.) Mousieur L'Abbe', I thank you. You may depend on Simon Lecour. Mad. de R. (Starling). What, Simon Lecour ! Lecour. Hah! I am right! Now I remember you both. You are little George's mother; and you are Monsieur Delisle, his father. I perceive a priest was his father. Mad. de R. Ah ! — Help me, I faint. [Falls on a chair, and the Abbe goes to her. Lecour. (To the Abbe.) This moment you had my secret ; now I have yours, and we are even. Abbe. Dare you threaten me ? A syllable from your lips about this, and you go to the galleys again ! (Lecour cow- ers.) (To Madame de R.) Fear not, Mathilde ! — Lookup! Scene closes. Scene Second. A room in. the Elysee Palace. Large doors in the rear; which whin opened dis- cover galleries conducting to a lighted ball- room. (J roups of ladies and gentlemen seen passing and repassing, and dancing-music heard in. the distance. — After an interval, Louis Napoleon conversing with ladies and attended by state-officers, appears beyond the doors and presently enters bomng-away the persons about him. He is followed by a lacquey tohom he motions to close the doors and retire. Wlien the doors are closed the music is still heard, and so continues, though very faintly, throughout the scene, with occa- sional pauses. Time : Evening of Decem- ber 1, 1851. L. Napoleon. The morning of to-morrow, the Second of December, will I make memorable— yes, memorable as the Eighteenth Brumaire. History shall group their glories. — To do, is but to dare: to falter, is to fail. Away then, every doubt! My pathway to the throne lies, brief though bloody, through the nation's fears. — Five-hundred-thousand bayonets at my beck ; the people destitute of arms, and unprepared for organized resistance; with one blow, ter- rible and swift, my triumph is assured. (Enter, from a side-door, a gentleman-in-waiting.) Have the gentlemen arrived? Page-in-waiting. All are assembled in the ante-cham- ber. Act 2, Scene 2. THE COUP D'ETAT. 11 L. Napoleon. Then bid Monsieur Do Maupas and the Abbe de Lamarque come to me. The rest attend my summons. (Exit Paye-in-waiting.) Men for a day will call me perjured, base and cruel. What then? Shall I not be for all time Great? The height I climb will be remembered, not how I climbed it. So runs the history of the bold who have clutched power and founded dynasty. Enter De Maupas and the Abb''. Welcome, gentlemen. Are any officers yet doubtful ? Is there any hindrance in our way ? Abbe. Colonel Grammont lent a willing ear, and when convinced your highness would take Napoleon's course; would smooth the soldier's path to riches, titles, glory, he readily consented at no greater cost than thirty thousand francs. With Colonel Ledru, the question still is open. Hoping for higher terms he asks to treat in person with your Highness, and would not name his price. He seeks, no doubt, a hundred thousand francs to pay his debts. L. Napoleon. He is a brave and influential officer; and if that sum will secure him, 'tis his. Can he be found, and brought to me? De Mattpas. Yes, your Highness, I'll send for him forth- with. Exit De Maupas. L. Napoleon. Now what of Colonel Gtt Abbe. Of him there is no hope. He is with the Reds. L. Napoleon. You have put him under surveillance? Abbe. He is closely watched. Reenter De Maupas. I.. Napoleon. Monsieur De Maupas, add Colonel Grfitry, to the number of arrests. De Maupas. {takes out his memorandum-book i name.) Has your Highness any choice of place for the confinement of these officers? L. Napoleon. Any place that's safe. Mazas-jail will do. Have you room there for all ? De Maupas. A few cells only now are vacant, but 1 have a plan. There are in Mazas-jail, four hundred criminals, ruffians of the city. Now as we need their cells for the republicans, what if we turn the convicts loose? They will promote disorder for the sake of pillage, and their acts will, by the citizens, be charged upon the Reds. What thinks your Highness of the project? //. Napoleon. De Maupas, it is worthy of your genius. Put it in execution. In case the people pause, they should be instigated to build barricades. Our policy exacts some show of fighting ; and then with overwhelming force we'll crush the insurgents and stupify the natiot affright. Then will come a calm and all will move on smoothly, Monsieur L'Abbe, how stand the negotiations with the church J Abbe. Your Highness will be pleased to learn the mode- rate conditions of the prelates. They only ask: — the restoration to their homes in France of the Capuchin monks, banished since 1790: the press to have rel censorship; processions of the Church to be escorted by the military and honored by the people; the salaries of the archbishops and bishops to be augmented ; and liberal appropriations from the public purse for building and re- nt wing temples for our worship. With these conditions, the Bishops of Paris, Bordeaux, Roehelle. Chalons, Nancy, and Chartres, will lend their aid to your imperial purpose, and by their influence and their good example secure their brethren. They will instruct the priests to cry out from the altar, "Loup lire Napoleon, Saviour of Fr< — to offer in their churches prayers for your Highness' triumph, and lead their passive flocks to vote Napoleon Third, Ear-Elton of Fkance. All this, and more, they promise. L. Napoleon. 'Tis well. — (To De Maupas.) Have all the Prefects reached their posts ? Dt Maupas. The}' have ; and from the eighty-six de- partments I have now assurance that each Prefect eagerly •3 awaits the great event, ambitious to sustain your High- ness with the civil power and with the military arm, ready to crush revolt. L. Napoleon. That's well, too. Enter a Page-in-waiting. (To the Page-in-waiting.) Let the gentleman waiting an audience enter. Page-in-waiting. Tell me, De Maupas, are your arrangements pert- to night — for these arrests, remember, nrusl all be made at once? None musi escape De Maupas. There are near a hundred on my list. 1 have divided 800 of my men infjo parties to seize them in their beds, at five o'clock to-morrow morning, as was agreed gag them to silence, and have them close in jail while Paris is asleep. .144/. Although the list is large, here are five names which should be added. De Maupas. {Beading the A 'Mau rice Beaumont, George Beaumont, Captain Glimard, Alhillf. Machasd, and Victor Roget." Abbe. These are leadeisof a formidable club, Tht ' tain, the most dangerous in Paris, as my agents ha formed me. The younger Beaumont likewise wields a pen ; is bold and bravo, and will be foremost at the barri- cades. /.. Napoleon. As I'm- authorship, that is of no account. My censors will take note of publications; and as to bar- such leaders to be active in er them. Powder and lead will save us then the expen trouble of overcrowded galleys. Enter ])>■ i ■'>■ Morny ; 6 Magnan, Canrobert, and Rebel; Colonels Pol. '■ .' Capt. !>■ and M. St. George. Gentlemen, we are now assembled for the last time bc- i. All is now ready ; tin blow is struck to-night, and it but remains to recite briefly the g plan, so that each may do his part intelligently. I Taki i out a mi book which I" g from lime to r.,n. i Monsieur De Maupas is charged with the vo-morrow's dav, . one to whom the peo- ple might look as a tried leader. They will thus be reduced to a headless mob. We must expect some fighting; and, -..me to give us opportunity to inspire terror, and lead the nation to cling to us as their protect- ors. If, by chance, as in the days of June, the insurrection should assume a formidable shape, the garrison will occupy the forts, ami bombard Paris int.. compliance. We will force submission, and crush these Republicans, even if we have to glut the jails of France, and transport thousands of them to Algiers and Cayenne. /.' Maupas. That is sound policy. Abbe. Yes: religion demands it. L. Napoleon. (General De St. Arnaud, let the first re- publican barricade be erected, and do you as Minister of War issue a decree declaring Paris in a stale of siege, and instruct the generals of division throughout France to put- likewise under martial law any Department where there is show of revolt. /• St. Arnaud. It shall be done. L. Napoleon. General Magnan, you will occupy the Boulevards with sixty thousand troop eeping them plied with liquor; and pay each soldier ten francs a day while on that duty, and officers in proportion. General Canrobert, with "your artillery some houses along the Boulevards must be well battered, to show we are in earnest. Colonel Espinasse, just before daybreak your regiment will invest the Hall of the National Assembly, and hold it until further orders. General Forey, if the representatives attempt to meet elsewhere, it will be your duty to summon them to disperse. If they refuse, take them prisoners, and lodge them in jail. If they resist, cut 12 THE chit D'ETAT. Act 3, Scene I. them to pieces. Colonel Vikyra, you have charge of the drums of the National Guard; to-night, let those drums all lie l>n>ken, so that the rappi at be beaten. The National Guard must be neutral; at least we must have no organized resistance from that quarter. Monsieur St. i., are the workmen now wailing at the National Printing Office, as directed! l/. St. Oeorge. They are, your Highness. L. Napoleon. Here then are my Proclamations to the Abhy and the People (holding them up) announcing the dissolution of the National Assembly, and the reasons for the Coup d'etat. To-night these Proclamations musl be printed, and they must be posted over Paris by daybreak. But as among your printers are many republicans, who will refuse to do this work, and seek to gins the alarm to the leaders whom we are just about to seize upon, we must take precautions. Captain Doist, with a hundred men guard the printing office till daylight — till the work be done. Station a soldier at the side of every workman, and shoot him down upon the least display of disaffection. Capt. Doisy. Tour Highness may depend upon my men. L. Napoleon. Colonel Beville, to your tried soldiership these proclamations are confided. Until printed and posted throughout Paris, Monsieur St. George and Captain Doisy will execute your orders. (Sands Col. Beville the MSS.) — Now, Gentlemen, to the ball-room; we shall be missed if this conference be prolonged. Among our guests to-night are many who must be arrested in their very beds at dawn ; so we should guard our every look and word against suspicion. De Morny, De Persigny, for you I have a single word. — Gentemen, the audience is at end. Exeunt De Maupas, Lamargue, Vicyra, Be- ville, St. George, and Doisy by the side door ; St. A maud, Magnati, Canrobert, Forey and Espinasse by the door lending to ball-room ; leaving L. Napoleon, De Horny, and De P' . onferehce. stain. ACT THIRD. First. — A room in (.!•>> . Time, J), rc„il, day most terrible! Slaughter again let loose — Paris one pool of blood — brother murdering brother! — Man's wrath is woman's agony ! — My father — misery ! — in the thick of havoc; and George, too, iu the fight — each armed against the other — and Pity's sun eclipsed. My soul is torn with fearful thoughts for those I love. Oh, I could brave steel and fire — dash into the gory herd of men and steeds ; but prisoned here still and cold — oh, this is worse than wounds and death! (Distant cannonading is heard.) Each hurrying moment my heart is slain with anguish ! Each sound of distant cannons comes as a dirge to buried hopes. — Francesca tarries long, — three woe clogged hours have flown since she left to seek and bring him to me ; and yet I am alone ! O will he ever come? Enter George Beaumont, lie is in citizen's dress, with pistols and a short sword, concealed by a cloak. Marie. Ah, George! Are you unhurt? George. (Throning off his cloak.) Yes, den: Marie, (tin/bracing he)-.) Marie. Oh, this is too much joy ' George. Calm yourself, you seemesafe. And so, dearest, you are faithful still. When dangers teem, ah, 'tis then that memory kisBes absent love ; and thus, in thought caressing me, you sent your trusty messenger. And amid the gathering hosts and threatening arms, your soul was wed to mine, even as our hearts are knit in close embraces now. Maris. Oh George, I was so desolate with woe and fenr. My father had forbidden me to speak with you; and did he know that I had called you hither, I should feel his fii pee displeasure. Hating the name of Republic, he has lent himself to the Bonapartean cause, and leads his brigade, fighting against your friends. George. O sad fatality ! Marie. Alone, quivering in anguish and despair, I sent Francesca to find and bid you come to me. Her, and her only, could I trust for such a mission, a faithful servant from my infancy. ge. She found me some two hours since, just as I would have sallied forth to join my friends already armed for battle. She is devotion's self to you — for she came amid dangers — dangers for'women as for men. Marie. She is not hurt? gs. We each escaped, though the soldiers shoot- down all who pass or gather near their lines. We were long threading our way hither, avoiding guarded avenues, and terror-stricken crowds. Marie. My poor old Francesca — had I weighed her peril against my sorrow, she should not have gone to seek you ; — but myself, steeled in affection's panoply, would have braved all — to win you back to safety and to hope — to tell you how, though pride may scorn, though tyranny may scourge — here on this bosom you shall find the all-in-all of love. George, Your words create for me, my Marie, a firma- ment of hope : my soul is like the early stars — it sings with joy, and seems borne through endless realms of virgin light. — (A pause.) But, ah! Marie. What is it, love? Why sigh so? Are you not with me — your own, own Marie? George. Yes 1 Marie, I am with you — here in your fath- er's house — but almost like a thief in the night, Yester- day I came hither openly to see him. I came because he had in brief phrase and with polished haughtiness to match his brevity — refused all sanction to our hopes. I saw him — told him how my soul was yours, and all that lent life lustre drew ils beams from you — [We. And he met you in anger? rge. No; he sat impassive, motionless, unanswering — fixed in marble indifference, stately in iron pride; — and when the freshet of passionate utterance had passed, and I could in calmness. 1 asked him to respond, if only 'twere one word — Marie. {Hastily.) And he replied? George. Never! - Marie. Oh Heaven! And is that withering word, that weird like utterance, to bode our fates, and hurl our new- born world of love back into chaos ! George. (After a pause.) Ah me ! — But, Marie, surely your father told you of this interview ! Marie. Not one word. t large. A heavier rebuff yet : he would not then stoop from his high perch of privilege, to tell his daughter that he had teorned my suit and me in person: he could not word a fact so scalding to his pride as that I, / had dared to speak to him of you, my Marie. Marie. But, I am yours, George. George. Dearest! — Denied all sight of you; wildly — in- sanely — if you will — hopeless of overleaping the walls of hereditary arrogance, that frowned betwixt us, I gladly clenched the chance to brave the oppressor's might and end ■ w with my country's shame. Accoutred thus to leave my home and seek the barricades, soon would I have been in the midst of fighting men, but your brave messen- ger bade me come hither. Act. 3, Scenes 1 and 2. THE COUP D'ETAT. 13 Marie. And you are come; and you are safe ; and how- soever my father may oppose, my heart is yours; — yours by laws older than pride — laws fashioned in Heaven be- fore pride rose-up and had its fall. Fear not, dearest.. Thus while war flames around us, and while you pre- your heart and kiss my maiden lips; I swear by all that Heaven has harvested of truth and ecstacy ; by all my trusts in a Redeemer's agony and love; by that religion which showers hope pure and priceless, a wealth undying, to which men's perishable empires are low penuries, by all this. T swear, I will be true to you. George. My gentle, faithful Marie ! Marie. For what, George, have /to weary Heaven with prayer through life, but you. A few short years, at best, without war's dangers, must close my father's fast ing days ; and leave me sorrowing and alone, unless you let me nestle in your heart. You cannot — cannot leave me, George? George. (Aside.) How can I longer tarry ? Marie. Answer me, love: you have come to rest with me throughout this perilous day. You will not desert me I I give to you my heart, — my soul, — my being; and I have yours as my recompense. Promise me, then, that you will stay with me ! George. Marie — can I refuse you aught? You are the gentle arbiter that would control my will: duty, honor, courage, country, — the fate itself of our dear Fiance, seem now but merging into love for you; love unresisting, reck- less, sacrificing, that would gladly bear the cross of men's contempt, the living martyrdom of ruin, only to be this one day with you, even though the now waning sun should, at its setting, mark the hour when we must part for ever. But — but — Marie. Hesitate no longer — make your words deeds, Promise not to desert me. Promise not to rush on mur- der. Oh George, if you would not cut the tendrils of my heart in twain, promise this. Believe in my devol i We may be torn apart, but let us still be faithful. Though cleft asunder, we may, while life yet lasts, be as two stars which sympathetically shine, but cannot meet — each true to each — letting our souls beam through our tears: and when the God of pity and of love gives us eternal life, our heavenly joy shall all the warmer be, for thi earthly sorrows. O! promise, promise me to stay; and here be your ark of safety, riding on battle's delugel George. This moment holds my fates ! What shall I do ? Discharges of musketry heard at a little distance. Marie. Ah I — They come this way! George, you must stay! you shall not rush on murder! Fresh discharges of musketry. George. Why stand I here while those I roused to rush into the maw of death for liberty are at their post? Marie, I give you universe for universe of love; but I am here, dallying, treacherous — Marie. (Interrupting.) You must not go — for my poor sake! — Would you murder me in murdering You know all chances of such slaughterings. Not. only yours, — but you. — you, George would strike him down, and yet you say you love me ! George. Marie, my brain is hot with its own war-flames! What shall I do? — My own father — Marie. (Interrupting.) He is not your father — George. (Interrupting.)Yea — he is more thou father : — he saved my infancy, he reared ray youth, and he would, bless my manhood. He is now in the fight — behind the barricades — urging our friends to win or die, or eVen leap, Curtius like, into the gulph of their country's dishonor, and let their memories countervail her shames! And 1 stand here inactive! Confused shouts without. What noise is that? The noise increases and cries are heard. Voices. (Outside.) Long live the Republic! Down with the usurper ! George rushes to the window, and opens it. Marie. Stay! Stay! TJie cries without are heard still louder. Voices. (Without.) Long live the Republic! Soldiers, fight for the Constitution 1 Come and fraternize with us I We are your friends! No Emperor! No usurper! The Republic for ever! George. These are my friends, the republicans. They are brave, but I — Marie. George, pity Die! Do not leave me ! George. Look, the soldiers come down the street! A volley of musketry heard still hinder. See that cold-blooded slaughter of my brothers, for crying- out for that republic which the usurper swore in face of . of earth, of Deity, to uphold ! Marie. (Clinging to George.) Come, oh come away from the window ! They may shoot you I Do not kill me with agony ! Let them fight — do you love V Another volley of musketry heard. George. No ! Marie ! I shall be blasted down to the sev- enth hell of slaves and cowards, if here I longer stay! Marie. You would murder my father! George. No ! No ! Marie. You would ! — unnatural ! — God of the desolate, let me die first. George! George! (Clinging to him.) George. Let, me go,' — Marie! Marie. No! No' N.c NTol George. Farewell! — Heaven, oh guide my steps — I must away ! Marie clings frantically to him shrieking, while they exeunt. Scene Second. A room with two windows but no door in the flat : — pi' 'are. led noise without, as of voices, and of falling planks and stones, in the building of a barrio i > workmen Lefranc and Dufour, in blouses and raps : the first carr ; ng a powder-flask; the air of horse-pistols in his belt, and also a p" Lefranc. If we barricade these windows well and make loop-holes, this old rifle can do good work. They didn't get hold of it in the search for arms, under their curst law. Dufour. My bull-dogs shall bark too. (Taking out one of the pistols and ci g his powder-flask to his ear.) Can you spare some powde Lefranc. A very little ; 1 have plenty of halls. (Hands Dufour balls.) >■. Your balls won't fit. I have a few of my own. Here, let me have the powder. (Holds his flask.) Voices (outside). (Shouting.) Long live the Republic! Down with the usurper! Lefranc. That's all I Dufour. If the other clubs do as well as ours, all may yet go well. Voices. (Outside.) The Constitution for ever! Long live the Republic! No Emperor! Lefranc. (Loolcing-out at thi window.) Yes. The Moun- tain are in full force. Our barricade is almost finished. It looks might Dufour. (Loading his pistols.) Who's in command now? Lefranc. Captain Guimard, but 1 don't see him. There's old Beaumont; beseems to be directing. Drums are heard bea • < ry -distant , a quickstep, — not a roll. Voices. (Outside.) Let them come on! The Republic forever? It THE COUI' D'ETAT. Act '■•, Scenes 2 and 8. re loo late: there are (Ik- drums of the We'll have no time to barricade the We can do no service here now, so lei id to the The quickstep of the drums heard gradual/ Enter A'" Father Roget ' What the devil brought you up here? Now just go down into the cellar; that's the only safe plaee, if there be any. The drums heard louder. •!/"< at from the street.) To your nien, and be ready for them! e the Republic I The Consti- or, forever 1 Down with the usurper ! t. Why should 1 be imprisoned in the cellar? Give conl [.■franc. Give you a weapon ! Your trembling hands can't hold onel— Come, come, I'll put you in a place of safety. Tlie sound of the a has gradually decreased. >ur. [Having looked out at . and come in and closed it.) That was a false alarm. The regiment marched across the Place. They are rallying there for the grand attack, that's clear. We'll have sharp work when they do come. Roget. Don't let's wail — Let's attack them. That's the way we used to fight in La Vendee, during the old Revo- lution. Lefranc. {Aside to Dufour.) We must get him to the cellar, where the women will take care of him. {To ) Come, then, Father Roget, let's attack them 1 Exeunt. Scenf. THIRD. A Street in Paris, terminating in the Plate de la Hostile, with the column of July in 'we. A solid and carefully con- structed high barricade of square blocks of wing-stones and heavy timbers, is built street, from side to side: i be sides of the Stage are closed in, representing houSi s, at thi windows and balconies of which are ■persons occasionally watching the scene be- low, and some with arms. The principal characters and a crowd of people are await ■ the military attack, which is expected from the direction of the Place de la Bastile. Most of the crowd are well-dressed gentian, n ■ u street-costume with overcoats: some others, but the minority, are in blouses as workmi n. Maurice Beaumont is discovered, dressed as a captain of tlie National Guard; three or four others are costumed as privates of the national Guard. In the centre of tlie stage a large fire, at which groups are warming themselves. In the front of t/n slur/,. ,,u . is a portable furnace, upon which is a melting-pot, and around it an several " in moulding bullets. In the * course of the scene a woman brings some \den spoons, which one of the nun puts in the melting-pot. Another woman brings in a pewter-mug of beer. After drinking the er, one of the workmen puts tlie pewtcr- mug in the melting-pot. As the men run the balls into the moulds, tliey turn them out into a bucket of water, and cool the moulds in the same. Tlie balls arc taken out of the bucket from time to time, and dried and handed to the women who are making the cartridges. Workmen come in with pigs of lead Tliey an received with shouts. The lead is put into the melting-pot. Women art on the seem : some making cartridges, some preparing lint and tearing linen into long strips for bandages: some roasting rig food and drink m tht neighboring houses to the combat Through the loopholes of the barri ad . mi u are occasional! Enter Guimard, dressed us a citizen, with oil, ■ rs variously attired, each bearing several mus- kets and cartridge-boxes ; and assisting some wounded men, who are then attended by "■■•no >, present, to the neighboring houses. A woman ■■•ho is assisting in the wounded, conns from ,, lions,, goes to the women who hue, been pre- paring lint on,! bandages, takes some from them, and returns to the house. Guhnard. Take care of the wound**! ! Where's the doctor? We carried the guard-house, but not without some loss. Voices. Guimard ! Guimard! Hurrah! Hurrah! The arms are distributed. Guimard. {To Maurice Beaumont.) It is rather hard to have to take your enemy's weapons before you can begin to right him. Where are the cartridges? Women. { Who have been making them.) Here they are. Tlie cartridges are distributed. Guimard, Beaumont, I was right about drawing lots. irice Beaumont. No: I abhor assassination now as ever. Guimard. You only abhor it when done by our side. You fear to have one man cut off, but you let him live to assassinate us, by thousands. The old, old story ! — Where's your son? Maurice Beaumont. Ah! where is he? I fear he is ar- rested or something worse. My poor boy! — Gracious Powers, he's here ! Enter George Beaumont. Voices. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Maurice Beaumont. My dear son ! You are safe. Guimard. What is the result of your reconnoitering f A number crowd round to hear. Act S, Scene ■ THE COUP D'ETAT. 15 George Beaumont. The National Guard appear to take no part in the struggle. Maurice Beaumont. I suppose it is with other companies as with mine : for the enemy has stolen into our quarters, and broken the drums, so that the rappel could not be beaten. What else, George? George Beaumont. The army seem possessed of the devil, and blindly execute the orders of the usurper. Some 60,000 troops occupy the Boulevards alone. They have brought their artillery to bear on the houses, aud are wan- tonly destroying them and their inhabitants merely to strike terror. I saw troops attacking the Cafe de Paris, the MaiBon Doree, the Cafe" Tortoni, and every house sup- posed to contain our friends. The soldiers, maddened with liquor, show no quarter. The Porte St. Martin bar- ricade still holds out. We shall soon be attacked. This Proclamation has just been posted. The ruffians having driven the people to arms to defend the Constitution, here (pointing to the Proclamation in his hand) assert that we, the people, are making this outbreak as a cover for robbery, murder, and arson. Voices. Read the Proclamation! read it ! read it. George Beaumont. Listen, then. (He reads.) "Inhabi- tants of Paris: The enemies of order and society, bent on /li/loge and destruction, have begun the fight." Ironical laughter and groans. Guimard. That's true: they are the enemies of society, and they have begun it. George Beaumont. (Continuing to read.) "Let all good ; unite in the name of menaced society and family . Remain quiet, citizi m of /'a, -is." Guimard. Of course — keep still, and let him put his foot on your necks. George Beaumont. (Reading.) " Let not idle curiosity tempt you to the streets." Guimard. Oh, no! The streets belong to your masters. George Beaumont. (Reading.) " You will hinder the movements of the brave troops, whose bayonets will protect you." Laughter and groans. Guimard. We'll try to hinder them. OeorgeeSeawnon ■/.) "As Minister of War, the state of seige being declared — /decree: that all persons raising barricades or defending them with arms, shall be shot. In: St. Arxaud." Guimard. Oh, for a guillotine worked by steam, for such parricidal wretches! George Beaumont. That is not all. I have seen another decree posted by the Prefect of Police, Hi: Malta-, that all persons standing in the streets, will he shot down with- out warning by the troops: — they are now carrying-out that order, and men and women are murdered in cold blood by these saviours of society. Guimard. I warned you it would be so. Voices. Vengeance! Vengeance! Guimard. What are the Assembly doing >, George Beaumont. They attempted to meet, but Gener il Forey's brigade seized three hundred of them, aud east them into prison. Forty republican representatives yet at liberty, with Victor Hugo at their head, have issued a Proclamation, and are themselves doing good service at the barricades. Enter Rogel, tottering in. Guimard. Father Roget, this is no place for you! Voices. No ! No ! Don't let him stay ! Roget. But it is a place for me ! Guimard. But you'll be killed. Roget. So be it. — I want to see my boys. I haven't seen them since 1812, when they were killed in Russia. Ghdmard. Take him to the door, and put him iu the house. Serine are leading him coaxingly off' ; he stops addresses the crowd. Roget. Is there a men here afraid to die for the Re- public i Voices. No ! No ! No ! Roget. That's right: God save the Republic ! They lce.d him into the house. Guimard. Here comes Machard, who has been reeon- noitering I Enter Machard in great haste. Guimard. Well ! Machard. Our stronghold at the Porte St. Martin has fallen! I have heard the order given to attack us here ! The troops are iu motion ! Guimard. To your posts, men ! Voice). Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! T/ie men take their posts. George Beaumont mounts a pile of stones. George Beaumont. Brothers, the hour is come. From yon high column (pointing to the column of July) reared to mark the battle-field of liberty, where fell our brethren gloriously, and where their ashes gloriously repose, the shades of heroes now look down upon you, and bid yon fight for France, her freedom and her laws. Voices. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! George Beaumont. Let every stone of these old streets tell our tale of glory — and let the nation's hear in the loud belchings of the cannon's throat, that we know how to die — but not to be enslaved ! Voices. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Enter Mons. Baudin, and two other members of the National Assembly, wearing their official tri colored sa Voices. Long live the Assembly! Hurrah for the Con- stitution ! Roget. (From a high balcony of a house.) The troops are coming down I Guimard. (To Roget.) Goin! Goin! You'll be killed. Lefranc. (From another balcony.) Yes, the troops are upon us ! Guimard. Stand to your arms, my men, and give them a hot weleom*,! Baudin. No! No! — Hold your fire. Let us three repre- sentatives of the people go forward to meet them ! The Army now owes no allegiance to the usurper, but only to the Assembly. We shall recall the soldiers to their duty , and stop this slaughter. George Beaumont. The soldiers will not heed you; you go to certain death. Baudin. We shall do our duty. Baudin and the oil" Natives mount the barricade. A ladder is placed so that they may descend on the on!- r i disappear tlms. The ladder is then drawn in. T/te drums of the troops coming- on, are heard during this action. Guimard mounts the barricade to reconnoitre. Guimard. The troops level their pieces. A volley is then heard. Guimard then rushes down. Guimard. Our representatives are murdered! — But we will avenge them! Roget. (From the balcony : a single shot being hea fore.) Ah! I'm shot! I'll now see my boys! (He falls into the house through the window. — Another volley from the troops now heard.) Guimard. Men! Open your fire on them! All. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! Long live the Re- public ! Tlie Republicans fire from the loop-holes of the barricade and from the loop-holes of the 16 THE COUP D'fiTAT. Act 3, Sctne 3. Act 4, Scene 1.