,. KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN IRISH COMEDY RFATSKD BY MARIE DOR AN ^K^ ^ry ^■^ T\^ ^Al >-.4^Vii. .^v^ 1^,^^ SA^ ^^V^ ^vx J^^ Fitzgerald Publishing Corporation SUCCESSOR TO DICK & FITZGERALD 1 1 Km 11 t^lJ| 5?/ "3^^ i ?Ph^ ^ 1 p>^ ^i ^ ;^^^ ^ CKH^ ^^ ^ f^4: ^ mIp ^ % H s^ /JN ^^'<^ >Qj \^ ^^iv^ PLAYS FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS ONLY iS CENTS EACH V CRANFORD DAMES. 2 Scenes; li^ hours 8 GERTRUDE MASON, M.D. 1 Act; 80 minutes 7 CHEERFUL. COMPANION. 1 Act; 25 minutes 2 LESSON IN ELEGANCE. 1 Act; 30 minutes 4 MAIDENS AL.L. FORLORN. 3 Acts; 1)4 hours 6 MURDER WILL OUT. 1 Act; 30 minutes 6 ROMANCE OF PHYLLIS. 3 Acts; 1^ nours 4 SOCIAL ASPIRATIONS. 1 Act; 45 minutes 6 OUTWITTED. 1 Act; 20 minutes 8 WHITE DOVE OF ONEIDA. 8 Acts; 45 minutes 4 SWEET FAMILY. lAct;lhour • BELLES OF BLACKVILLE. lAct;2hour8 iO PRINCESS KIKU. (25 cents) 18 RAINBOW KIMONA. (25 cents.) 2 Acts; IV^ hours 9 MERRY OLD MAIDS. (So cents.) Motion Song 11 PLAYS FOR MALE CHARACTERS ONLY J5 CENTS EACH APRIL FOOLS. lAct; SOminutes BYRD AND HURD. 1 Act; 40 minutes DARKEY WOOD DEALER. 1 Act; 50 minutes WANTED, A MAHATMA. 1 Act: SOminutes HOLY TERROR. 1 Act; 80 minutes MANAGER'S TRIALS. 1 Act; 1 hour MEDICA. lAct; 35 minutes NIGGER NIGHT SCHOOL. 1 Act; SOminutes SLIM JIM AND THE HOODOO. 1 Act; SOminutes. WANTED. A CONFIDENTIAL CLERK. 1 Act; SOminutes SNOBSON'S STAG PARTY. 1 Act; 1 hour 12 PICKLES AND TICKLES. 1 Act; 20 minutes 6 HARVEST STORM. 1 Act; 40 minutes 10 CASE OF HERR BAR I?OOMSKI. Mock Trial; 2hour8.... 28 DARKEY BREACH OF PROMISE CASE. Moclc Trial. 22 GREAT LIBEL CASE. Mock Trial; 1 Scene; 2 hours 21 RIDING THE GOAT. Burlesque Initiation; 1 Scene; 114 hours 24 FITZGERALD PUBLISHING CORP'N, 18 Vesey St.,N. Y. \ Kathleen Mavourneen A ROMANTIC IRISH DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS This famous drama, revised and re- written, with new material and full stage directions for pro- duction on the professional and amateur stage. BY MARIE DORAN Copyright, 1918, by Fitzgerald Publishing Corporation Note. — The professional acting rights of this play are expressly reserved by the pub- lishers, to whom theatrical managers who wish to produce it should apply. Amateur representa- tion may be made with- out such applica- tion and with- out charge. ^/ New York Fitzgerald Publishing Corporation 18 Vesey Street ?525or 073Z3 K3 |\>JG 29 1S18 ©aO 50253 KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN CHARACTERS Kathleen O'Connor David's daughter Miss Dorothy Kavanagh TJie Squire's sister Kitty O 'Laverty A maid Bernard Kavanagh Country Squire Terence O'More Katlileen's sweetheart David 'Connor An old Irish farmer Father Cassidy The parish priest Bill Button Cap .A country youth Black Rody A ruffian Red Barney A ruffian Jailer NOTE : By doubling this can be played by six male and three female characters. The doubles which fall naturally are 'Connor and Cassidy ; Red Barney and Jailer. Time. — See Costumes. Locality. — Ireland. Time of Playing. — A full evening. SCENE PLOT ACT I. Interior of David O'Connor's farmhouse in Ireland. This is a combination kitchen and dining-room in an Irish home. It may be made quaint as circumstances permit. Door in r. flat at back. Door in l. flat down stage. Window in c. of back flat. Ceiling piece if avail- able, if not, use interior borders. Interior backing for 4 Kathleen Mavourneen door L. Exterior backing for door r. and window. Wood drop with strip of lake, if available. Large fire- place and fire grate at r., if available. ACT II. Exterior of Kavanagh's home. Pretty garden ex- terior. Wood wings. Ripple drop, if available, or wood drop. Foliage borders and foliage or rock pieces to mask in. Entrance to the house is on l., indicated only by two or three broad steps, with balustrade. Set for a terrace effect. Entrances clear. ACT III. Same scene as ACT II. The curtain will be lowered for two minutes between Scenes I and II, to denote pass- ing of time. ACT IV. Same scene as ACT I. COSTUMES AND CHARACTERISTICS This drama is a romance and tells the story of a dream. It affords ample opportunity for variation. The characters may dress in quaint Irish costumes of any period, not too ancient, or they may dress in the costumes of to-day. In either case they should be as picturesque as possible, especially the costumes worn by Kathleen. Kathleen. Act I.— She can wear tuck-up of flow- ered material, with old garden hat. Act II.— Pale and despondent, in sharp contrast to her former gay man- ner. She wears a pretty garden dress of white. Act III, Scene I. — The same, or change. Scene II. — Sub- dued, probably gray. Act IV.— Exactly as she was dressed at end of Act I. Kathleen Mavourneen 5 Kitty, A maid's costume, simple but pretty. Cape and veil or scarf for Act III. Act IV. Light, pretty dress. Dorothy. Speaks in good English. Handsomely dressed all through. RoDY. Is a repulsive-looking ruffian in shabby clothes; coarse manners; his brogue is thick and harsh. He keeps his cap on and puffs a pipe. Bill. A country youth. The scenes in which Bill figures are broad comedy; they should be played with as much comedy effect as possible. The men's costumes depend upon the period of the play and it remains with them to harmonize. If a cos- tume period is adopted wigs will be necessary. The play very clearly indicates the time of day and appro- priate dressing. PROPERTIES ACT I Rag carpet or rag rugs on floor. Kitchen furniture, consisting of a medium-sized oval table, cupboard, kitchen chairs, arm-chair and a good-sized wooden bench with a back. Two pillows with faded covers on bench. Small stand with a plant in bloom in window. Neat cover on table. Have on cupboard ready to use, two plates, two cups and saucers, two tea spoons, sugar spoon, sugar bowl with sugar, cream pitcher containing cream. Have on table an earthen pitcher filled with clean water, three tumblers, and a glass towel. Neat curtain across window. Red glow in fireplace. O'Con- nor's cap on cupboard. Neat small white apron, small bunch of wild flowers and a sprig of shamrock, and a tray containing a small plate of cakes and a pot of tea ready to serve, for Kathleen. Red cloak for Dorothy. Letter, diamond ring in sealed envelope, pipe, and a flask of whiskey for O'Connor. Bird whistle off r. 6 Kathleen Mavourneen ACT II Rustic garden furniture, consisting of table, two or more chairs, settee, any other garden furniture avail- able, such as urns, statuary, etc. Bound book on table for Kathleen. Cigar (to smoke) and letter in envelope for Kav- ANAGH. Large dark shawl for Kitty. This must be large enough to cover Bill Button Cap. Paper (marriage certificate) for Father Cassidy. Pipe and tobacco for Black Rody. ACT III Scene I. — Purse (pocket-book to open easily) contain- ing eight or ten English notes, for Kavanagh. Spade and pick, coins, and knife (this should be of good size) for Rody. Spade and pick, and large flask of whiskey for Bar- ney. Box with plenty of fresh earth, off r. Scene II. — Two guns for guards. Handcuffs, with good length of chain, for Terence. Organ, or phonograph with organ record, to play off R., also a bell to toll off r. ACT IV Small prayer book for Kitty. Letter and ring (of Act I) for Kathleen. Bird whistle off r. STAGE DIRECTIONS As seen by a performer on the stage, facing the audi- ence, R. means right-hand ; l. left-hand ; c. center of the stage; R. c. right of center; l. c. left of center; up, toward rear of stage ; down, toward the footlights ; d. r., door right ; d. l., door left. KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN ACT I Scene.— JfikTien of tJie O'Connor Jiome in Ireland. Door in r. flat at hack. Window c. at hack with a neat curtain drawn across. Door l. down stage. Interior hacking at L. door, outside wiridow and door UP R. a view of the garden and a strip of lake, if availahle. Place a large open fireplace down r. witJi cJieery fire, if availahle. An old arm-cJiair in front of fireplace. Oval tahle with neat cover DOWN stage l. of center. Kitchen chairs R. and L. of tahle. Down r. a good-sized hench with a hack; two or three cushions on hench. A cupboard with dishes and utensils hetween window and door up r. Floor may he covered with rag carpet or rag rugs, one in front of hench. Pitcher, glasses and towel on tahle. Neat white apron for Kathleen on hack of a chair. O'Connor's cap on cuphoard. Small stand with a plant in hloom at window or on win- dow sill. LIGHTS ON FULL. DISCOVERED David O'Connor, standing r. of table polishing a tumhler. NOTE. — Bernard Kavanagh and Dorothy speak in good English ; all other characters in varying degrees of Irish brogue. O'Connor {puffing his pipe and scrutinizing the tumhler). Begorra! I wonder who washed this goblet 8 Kathleen Mavourneen in soap suds! 'Tis a foine job they made o' it. (Call- ing) Kathleen {Looking around) Where the divil is Kathleen? Are ye standin' outside waggin' yer tongue whin ye should be afther cleanin' up afore his honor comes? (Kathleen is lieard outside d. r., singing a snatcli of an Irisli song) Are ye comin', or are ye not? {Facing door) ENTER Kathleen d. r., singing and carrying a small hunch of ivild flowers witli a sprig of sJiararoch. Kathleen. Yis, father, I'm here — as fast as me feet '11 fetch me — were ye lookin' for me? {Advaricing to c.) O'Connor {advancing, polishing tJie goblet). I was — d'ye moind it's Saint Patrick's Eve? Kathleen. I know that. O'Connor. Thin if ye do, ye know that Squire Kavanagh may drop in, an' a bit of a tidin' up ye should be doin'! Kathleen. Glory! Are ye expectin' his honor? {Taking off lier liat and tossing it on bench R. c.) Maybe his sister, Miss Dorothy '11 be comin' along wid him! (Xing hastily to table l., arranging chair at table) O'Connor (c, facing Kathleen). What have ye in the house to drink? Kathleen. Drink? {Picking up pitcher from table) Spring water — I pumped it meself. O'Connor. Water? {In disgust) Do ye think his lordship '11 be afther wantin' thet tasteless stuff? {A step to R. c, rubbing the tumbler vigorously) Kathleen. Well, thin, I have milk O'Connor {comic indignation). Milk, is it? for a man six feet in his stockings ! Be gob ! 'tis an insult to spake of it! {Blowing on the goblet and polishing it recklessly) Kathleen {advancing a step). Well, thin, I have tay O'Connor. Tay! {Highly indignant) Tay! It's Kathleen Mavourneen 9 losin' yer sinses ye are — an' mighty little ye have to spare. {Advancing a step toward Kathleen) Kathleen {advancing ^ laughing as she pats O'Con- nor on the arm). Shame on ye, father — 'tis no strong drink ye '11 get, nor his honor. Didn't Father Cassidy preach ye a sermon on the evils of intimperance? O'Connor {coinic evasion) ^ I niver heard a word of it! Kathleen. Ye were snorin' whin he said it, an* everybody in the church lookin' at ye! {Laughing as she turns up to cupboard where she leaves her flowers) Would ye like a bit 0' shamrock to put in yer coat, father? {Taking a sprig from the bouquet and advanc- ing DOWN to R. of c.) O'Connor. I would not. (Xing to table, where he leaves goblet and toivel) I'd like something strong to wet me whistle. {Advancing to c. a step) Begorra! if I can't get it inside me own house, I know where I can get it outside! {Turning toward d. r.) Kathleen. Ye '11 meet Father Cassidy in the lane — I was just talkin' to him, and he asked me if ye were keepin' sober. {Laughing as she pins the shamrock in her dress) Ye'd better stay, father, and have some of the beautiful tay that cost siven shillings a pound — and I baked some cakes that'll make ye thirsty — for tay! {Laughing as she xes to table l. c, taking the apron from chair and putting it on. Then she folds the towel neatly and draws the goblets out of the way) O'Connor {disconcerted and a bit irritated, standing near d. r., rubs his head and looks at Kathleen) Are ye shure Father Cassidy is out beyant? {Jerking his thumb toward outside) Kathleen. I am. Better stay where ye are or his Riverence'll be orderin' ye to church to pray for yer sins! (O'Connor sighs dolefidly and goes down near fireplace) Kavanagh {off R.) Here, boy, hold the reins — care- ful ! That horse is skittish ! Kathleen. Father ! There 's the Squire ! ( Turning 10 Kathleen Mavourneen quickly toward window) And Miss Dorothy with him! But she's the foine lady thet knows all about parties and balls — and I niver was to one in me whole life! {Dancing a step or two down c.) Oh, my, how do I look for sich illigant folks! Straighten yer collar, father! (O'Connor jerks collar around) Brush yer hair! (O'Connor rumples Ms Jiair) And stand up straight! (O'Connor straightens in extravagant manner, Kath- leen imitating) And spake as civil as yer tongue will let ye! ENTER Bernard Kavanagh d. r., followed hy Dorothy Kavanagh; site carries a long red cloak over Tier arm. O'Connor (bowing awkwardly) . Yer honor. Kathleen (l. of c, bowing to Dorothy). Your ladyship. (O'Connor repeats tJie action of straigJiten- ing Ms collar and brusMng Ms Jiair, making matters worse) Kavanagh {advancing to c). Thank you; nothing gives me more pleasure than visiting my tenants — espe- cially when they have pretty daughters. {Boiving to Kathleen ) Kathleen {bowing bashfully). Oh, your honor! Dorothy (down c). And this is Kathleen! {Look- ing at her critically) Quite a blooming young woman! Kathleen. Bloomin', ma'am — like a cabbage! Kavanagh. Like a rose! {Bowing to Kathleen) Kathleen. Oh, Squire! you're teasin' me! {Laugh- ing) Kavanagh. Indeed, I am in earnest. {Advancing a step) Won't you give me that sprig of shamrock you are wearing next your heart? Kathleen. 'Tis not me heart — 'tis me chist, an' I'll be after keepin' it if your lordship don't mind. {Re- treating a step) Dorothy {her manner affected). The roads are abominably dusty. (To Kathleen) I would like to Kathleen Mavourneen ii wash my hands if you will be good enough to show me to an apartment. Kathleen {puzzled). Apartment, is it? Faith, I have none, but there's a room in there — {Indicating l.) — as clean as a pin. I scrubbed it meself. Will your ladyship come in? {Advancing to d. l.) Dorothy. Thank you. {Advancing. As site passes the cJiair at table l. she leaves the cloak on hack of chair, then continues to d. l.) Kathleen {at d.l,.). Go right in, ma'am — ye '11 find water in the pitcher, soap in the dish, and a clean towel on the rack. Dorothy. Quite a housekeeper for so young a girl. [EXIT D. L. Kathleen. Yis, ma'am — I 've had to work all me life. {Advancing to L. c.) Kavanagh (c.) Is that so? Not much time for en- joyment? Kathleen. No, sir — me poor mother died whin I was a wee bit of a baby — me father's been takin' care o' me since I could talk, and now I 'm takin ' care o ' him ! O'Connor (r. ahove fireplace). Kathleen is a good child — may the saints bless her. Kavanagh. I am glad to hear it. Kathleen. Will your lordship have something to drink? {Turning to table l., lifting pitcher of water) Kavanagh. Yes, I would like a glass of whiskey. Kathleen. Whiskey! Here it is! {Filling glass with water) Kavanagh. That looks like water! Kathleen. And it tastes like water. {Extending glass) 'Tis nature's own prescription, good for man and beast! Kavanagh. Well, I don't care much for it, but from your hand — {Taking glass) — it will taste like the nectar of the gods! {Bowing as he takes a sip of water) Kathleen. Will it now! Sure, I wish I could talk like that — nectar of the gods! {Laughing) Can yoi' buy it? 12 Kathleen Mavourneen Kavanagh {laughing). No — it is only a figure of speech, complimentary, of course. Kathleen (puzzled). Complimentary — I know! Like a free ticket to a Punch and Judy show. (Kava- nagh lauglis as he gives her the goblet) Will ye have some more? (Taking glass, still full of water) Kavanagh. No, thank you. If your father is not busy, I want to show him some work I would like to have him superintend across the field. O'Connor. At your service. Squire. (Turning up to door) Kathleen. Here, father, take your cap and put it on, so ye won't get freckles on top of your head. (Pick- ing up the cap from cupboard, she puts it on O'Con- nor's head, backwards) 'Connor. Go on wid ye — f reckels on top o ' me head ! (Straightening his cap) I'm ready, your lordship. [EXIT D. R. Kathleen (to Kavanagh). Me father's that tryin', he's like a baby! Kavanagh. Kathleen, there is something I want to speak to you about (Advancing, about to take her hand) I want to tell you ENTER Dorothy d. l. Kathleen. Here's your sister. (Xing a step, fac- ing Dorothy. Kavanagh turns a step up toward door. To Dorothy) Is there anything more ye'd like to have, ma 'am ? Dorothy. If it is not too much trouble, I would like a cup of tea. (Advancing to r. of table) Kathleen. Yis, your ladyship, ye shall have a keg o' it. (Xing quickly to d. l.) Make yourself comfort- able and I'll be back in a twinkle. [EXIT running d. l. Kavanagh. What a delightful girl she is! (Look- ing after Kathleen) For the first time in my life, I feel timid in the presence of this rustic beauty. Kathleen Mavourneen 13 Dorothy. Don't lose your head, brother; remeniber the difference in your station and hers. {Around in front of table to L. of table, seating Jierself) Kavanagh. One may amuse oneself without being taken seriously. {Advancing to d. r.) I will leave you to your tea and the charming society of Kathleen. [EXIT D. R. RE-ENTER Kathleen from d. l., carrying small tray with tea pot, tea ready to drink, and plate of cakes. Kathleen. I hope you're not dyin' o' the hunger, ma'am. {Advancing to table l. ivJiere sJie places the tray) And if ye are, ye can make up for it — ^look at that! {Lifting plate of cakes from tray) I made thim with me own hands, and they '11 melt in your mouth ! Dorothy. They look tempting. Kathleen. 'Tis the kind 0' timptation that's good for ye. Try it! {Extending cakes to Dorothy) Dorothy. Thank you. {Taking cake and eating it) Kathleen. Wait a bit, I '11 fetch ye a plate. {Leav- ing cakes on table near Dorothy, she turns quickly to cupboard and brings to table a plate and the sugar bowl, placing the plate before Dorothy) I had no idy your ladyship was comin', or sure I would have everything ready on the table! Do you like it strong? {Looking in tea spot, then going quickly to cupboard, bringing to table a cup and saucer, spoons and cream) Dorothy. Yes, rather! Kathleen {imitating Dorothy's affected manner of speech). Rather — rather Oh, I can't say that at all at all! {Laughing) Dorothy {repeating). Rather — it quiets my nerves. Kathleen. Nerves, is it? {Pouring tea for Dorothy) Something I niver had. Terry says 'tis only rich folks that has nerves, and it 's due to their fast way ' livin ' — askin' your ladyship's pardon! Dorothy. Who is Terry? {Sipping her tea) Kathleen {innocent surprise). Don't you know 14 Kathleen Mavourneen Terry? Have some sugar. {Passing sugar howl) And ye don't know Terry! Have some cream. {Passing cream pitcher) I thought everybody knew Terry! Have another cake. {Passing plate of cakes. Dorothy Jias put sugar and cream in her tea and finished her first cake. She takes another and eats it) Terry? Sure, Terry's Terence O'More — he bothers the soul o' me with his blarney — faith, your brother has a taste o' it on the tip o' his tongue. Have some more tay, will ye, ma'am? {Pouring tea in Dorothy's cup) Dorothy. How did you learn the art of making such perfect tea? {Drinking) Kathleen. It comes as natural as measles comes to the pigs. Have some more sugar. {Putting heaping spoonful in Dorothy's tea) Dorothy. Thank you — I don 't care for it very sweet. Kathleen. Neither do I — five or six spoons is all I can stand. {Putting more sugar in tea) Have another cake. {Passing cakes. Dorothy takes one and eats it) Dorothy. Are you going to take a cup, Kathleen? Kathleen. Glory, ma 'am ! I niver could eat at the same table with your ladyship. (Dorothy looks at her in sharp surprise) I mane — I'm not good enough. Have some more cream. {Pouring creayn in Dorothy's cup) Dorothy. Thanks, just a little. Kathleen. Don't be bashful, ma'am — help yourself. {Offering cake again) Dorothy. I really don't think I can eat any more. {Taking cake, eating) Kathleen. I can see ye have a poor appetite — a little more tea, ma'am? {Pouring tea) Be the time ye drink eight or ten cups, ye '11 feel fine. Dorothy. I insist upon you drinking with me. Kathleen. Do ye? That's kind o' ye. {Going to cupboard, bringing to table another cup and saucer) A fine lady like ye to be invitin' me to tea — it's like a fairy story. {At r. of table, pouring tea for herself) Faith, your ladyship 's life must be like that — nothing to Kathleen Mavourneen 15 do but amuse yourself. {She sits r. of table, absent- mindedly putting a great deal of sugar in Tier cup as sTie continues to talk in lively fashion; she stirs tea, but does not drink it) Dorothy. Amusing oneself may be quite as tiresome as work. Kathleen. I niver get tired 0' work, and I don't think I'd get tired amusin' meself — would your lady- ship tell me some of the ways? * Dorothy. First, I awake in the morning. Kathleen. That's the very thing I do meself! Dorothy. Then, I collect my faculties. Kathleen (puzzled). Your what? Dorothy. Faculties. Kathleen (bewildered). Oh! that must be hard work! Have another drop. (Pouring tea in Dorothy's cup) Dorothy. A life of ease is very delightful — ^up to a certain point, and then — (Affectation) — it bores one! Kathleen. Does it now! (Imitating in affected manner) It bores one! (Laughing) It would never bore me to be singin' and dancin' and enjoyin' meself the whole day long. . . . Have another cake — you're not eatin' anything at all at all. (Passing cakes. Dor- othy takes the cake and eats) And after ye wake up and collect your — your — ^what was that ye were col- lectin'? Dorothy. Faculties. Kathleen. That's it — what do ye do next? Dorothy. Ring for my maid, who dresses me. Kathleen (looking at her in astonishment). Dresses ye ? Glory be to the angels ! can 't ye dress yourself ? Dorothy. No fashionable lady dresses herself. Kathleen. I forgot — you're a fashionable lady — (Laughing) — and I'm not. So I pull on me stockings and me shoes, and twist up me hair, and say me prayers — faith, who says your prayers for ye? Dorothy. Prayers? I always say them myself. (With pride) And I wash my own face and hands! 1 6 Kathleen Mavourneen Kathleen. Do ye! Ain't that killin'! Have an- other cup. {Pouring tea) Ye must be wore out with so much exercise. Dorothy. Then I go to the breakfast room Kathleen. I suppose ye have no appetite for eatin'? Dorothy. Very little. {Drinking tea and eating cake) Kathleen. I wonder what's the matter with this tay? I can't get enough sugar in it. {Putting in more sugar) Dorothy. Then I read a little, embroider a little, play the piano Kathleen. A little Dorothy. Next, I drive, pay visits, return home, dress for dinner, drive, undress, and dress again for the evening. Kathleen. Arrah, ye seem to be doin' nothin' but dress an' undress — hooks and eyes, and eyes and hooks from mornin ' till night. Ye must have a lot o ' dresses ? Dorothy. Dozens ! Kathleen {astonished). Dozens o' dresses! And me Avith only this to me back, and a plain white one to wear to church on Sundays and feast days! {Rising) I wish I could live like your ladyship ! I'd go to a ball every evenin', and dance till midnight ! {Dancing a few steps) Dorothy. You must not get foolish notions, Kath- leen. {Rising) Kathleen (c). Ye may call it foolish, ma'am, but I do be wishin' an' wishin' for a big house an' dresses, an' satin slippers with bows on them! ENTER Kavanagh d. r. Dorothy {light laugh). Satin slippers with bows! {Advancing down in front of table) Kathleen. And roses in me hair and a gold chain on me neck and a bracelet ! Oh ! wouldn 't I love it ! Kavanagh. Roses in your hair {Advancing DOWN to R. of c.) Kathleen Mavourneen 17 Kathleen {observing Kavanagh). Oh — it's the Squire. I niver saw him! Kavanagh {smiling at Kathleen). And a gold chain ! Kathleen. Don't be laughin' at me sir — I was only- talking foolish. (Xing to table picking up some dislies) Dorothy (xing to c, facing Kavanagh). Kathleen fancies she wonld like to be a lady. Kathleen. It's me own nonsense, that's all. {Go- ing to cupboard with dislies and leaving tliem tJiere) • Kavanagh. It is not foolish — it would certainly be an easy matter to make a lady of you, pretty Kathleen. {Bowing gallantly) Kathleen {turning to Mm). Be the powers! your honor has a fine gift 0' blarney! Kavanagh. I am in earnest. Dorothy {rather shrewdly). I am ready to go, brother. {To Kathleen) Kathleen Kathleen {advancing down to l. above table). Yis, ma 'am ? Dorothy. I have no satin slippers to give you, but I will leave you this cloak. {Indicating cloak on back of chair at table) It is a present for you for the tea and your attention. Kathleen {delighted). A present! This beautiful cloak! {Taking it carefully from chair back) For me? {Opening and admiring the cloak) Dorothy. For you — take good care of it — it was very expensive; it may bring you good luck. Kathleen. Oh, ma'am. I'm not deservin' of it — I'm only a poor farmer's daughter, and I'd look too grand in that, — the beauty! Kavanagh. Nonsense, Kathleen — wear it — it will suit you admirably. Kathleen. I thank ye, both 0' ye, and every time I wear it to church, I'll say a prayer for ye. Dorothy. Come, Bernard. {Turning d. r.) Good- bye, Kathleen. Kathleen. Good-bye, ma'am, and thank ye a thou- 1 8 Kathleen Mavourneen sand times! {To Kavanagh) Good-bye, your honor. (TMs is a careless good-bye to Kavanagh, and Kath- leen turns away, lier wliole attention on tlie cloak) Kavanagh. Farmer O'Connor will drive you home, Dorothy. I have a little more business to attend to here. (Glancing at Kathleen) Dorothy {in doorway, ratlier sliarp). Indeed! I hope it is business, and not sentimental foolishness. [EXIT D. R. Kathleen (absorbed in admiring tlie cloak). Faith, it 's too beautiful to wear by the loikes o ' me ! Kavanagh. You underestimate your charms, Kath- leen. Kathleen (looking up in surprise). Glory! I thought I was talkin' to meself. Good-bye, sir, good-bye. (In pantomime, a careless gesture as if sliaking liands with Jiim, tJien sJie carefully folds tlie cloak, and ad- vances UP stage witli it, greatly pleased) Kavanagh (light laugh). You seem in a hurry to get rid of me. Kathleen (up c.). D'ye think so, your honor? Kavanagh. Don 't call me ' ' your honor. ' ' Kathleen. Why not? Ain't ye the Squire, owner o' all the land, and the houses, and horses, and cats and dogs? (Continuing to fold the cloak very carefidly) Kavanagh. But I want you to forget that, and be friends. Kathleen. Sure, I'm your friend, Squire — why wouldn't I be after gettin' a present like this? (Affec- tionately patting the cloak) Kavanagh. I heard you say you wanted to be a lady, and I want to help you realize your ambition. Kathleen (looking at him in surprise). Do ye? (Advancing down to bench r. c, passing Kavanagh) I don't think ye can. (Laying the cloak carefidly on bench) Kavanagh (c, facing Kathleen). Why not? Kathleen (sitting beside cloak on bench). Bekase, I can get up in the mornin ' without anyone helpin ' me ; Kathleen Mavourneen 19 me hair niver wants curlin' — I twist it in a bunch on top 0' me head. {Tivisting up Iter curls) I have no time for readin' and drivin' — an' sure, nothin' to drive but an old goat! (LaugJmig) An' as for dressin' an' undressin', I've nothin' to be dressin' in! (Laughing) So ye see, I could niver be a lady ! {Looking at tJie cloak admiringly) Kavanagh. It's easy to buy dresess^ Kathleen. Is it? (Rising) Maybe it is for you — and that's not all — look at me hands. (Advancing with both hands extended) They're red where they ought to be white, and there's a bit of a wart on me thumb! (Indicating, with a laugh) Kavanagh. That could be removed. (Attempting to take her hand) Kathleen. Could it — with a knife! (Putting her hands behind her back) I don't want to be cut up while I'mlivin'! Kavanagh. Those hands would grow white when they cease to work — you would learn elegance and poise, and those beautiful curls would be held by a coronet of jewels ! Kathleen (delighted). Glory be to the saints! What would Maggie Mulcahey say if she saw me dressed like that! (Laughing) Kavanagh. Instead of that homely dress, you would have a robe of silk and velvet ! Kathleen. Silk and velvet! Sure I'd want more than one dress! Kavanagh. As many as you could wish, fair Kath- leen ! Kathleen (advancing a step nearer). And would they be trimmed with ribbons, and lace and buttons ? Kavanagh. Ribbons, and lace and buttons — yards and yards! Kathleen. Yards and yards of buttons ! That v/onld look funny! (Laughing) Kavanagh. I want you to listen seriously, Kathleen. 20 Kathleen Mavourneen This hand — {Taking lier hand) — this little hand would wear a diamond ring on every finger Kathleen. Oh, Squire, ye 're bamboozlin' me, ye are. (Drawing away, lie retains Jier liand, as slie laughs heartily) What would I do with diamond rings on me fingers — in the wash tub! Kavanagh. There would be no more wash tub for you, lovely Kathleen! Kathleen. I'll, ye '11 excuse me, sir, I'd like to get the loan o' me hand — (Looking at the hands he holds) — I want to scratch me nose! (Kavanagh, ivith a light laugh, reluctantly releases her hand) Ye know, this re- minds me of what old Meg Marlogh said — she tells fine fortunes, and they ginerally come true. Kavanagh. What did she tell you, sweet Kathleen? Kathleen. She told me I'm to be a foin lady some day, and marry a rich gentleman, and live in a house as big as a church ! Kavanagh. She was a true prophet — it is your des- tiny. Kathleen. I don't think so (Xing slowly to L. c.) Kavanagh. Why not? (Advancing a step to her) Kathleen. Bekase, Terry may be a gintleman, though he don't look it, and he's not rich. Kavanagh. Terry — Terry who? Kathleen. No, no, not Terry who — Terry O'More. If I Avas to marry anyone else it would break his heart. (Xing to l. of table, moving the dishes to a pile) Kavanagh. I suppose Terry is a rustic nobody. (A step away) Kathleen. Don't be sayin' that, Squire, when his back's turned. Kavanagh. You are not in a receptive m.ood, lovely Kathleen. Kathleen. Faith, I'm gettin' all mixed with your big words — maybe ye better not talk so much — will ye have a cup o' tay? Kathleen Mavourneen 21 Kavanagh. No — but since you never seem inclined to listen to me I have written you a letter. Kathleen. Go on with your letter. Kavanagh {taking letter from his pocket). I shall expect you to send me a prompt reply. Kathleen. I will — if I can read your writin'. As Dorothy RE-ENTERS d. r. Kavanagh quickly returns letter to liis pocket. Dorothy. Bernard, you must drive me home — the horses will run away with Farmer O'Connor, and we will both be killed. Don't keep me w^aiting. [EXIT D. R. Kavanagh. I will go. Good-bye, Kathleen. {Ad- vancing to c.) Won't you give me your hand? {Ex- tending liis liand) Kathleen {with dishes in both hands). I would, sir, only I have but the two, and they 're both runnin ' over. Kavanagh. Remember, answer the letter, and if you are wise, you may soon become a lady. {Going to d. r.) Good-bye, angelic Kathleen. {Bowing to her) [EXIT D. R. Kathleen. Good-bye, sir. {Placing dishes on table again) Angelic, is it? If he was to see me milkin' the ould black cow, he wouldn't be afther callin' me an angel! {Advancing to below table) My, but that man has the honey on his tongue! {Advancing to c.) What's this he called me? ''Sweet Kathleen." ''Lovely Kathleen." "Beautiful Kathleen!" {Laughing) Go 'long wid ye! I wonder if I'm all that — Terry niver said so to me! {Her eyes fall on the cloak) Me cloak! {Regarding it in delight) Me beautiful cloak! {Begin to work lights down to sunset, and change to moon- light. Kathleen picks up cloak) It'll be afther turn- in' me brain! {She opens the cloak, admiring it) Faith, I don 't know how I '11 look in it, but I 'd be f eelin ' mighty ginteel. {Throvjing the cloak about her, and moving about in affected manner) Wouldn't I look grand at the county ball, arm in arm with Terry ! The lads would be eyein' me, and the biddies would be ravin' 22 Kathleen Mavourneen jealous. {Laugliing) Whin I'd come in the big door, they'd all be makin' a bow — (Bowing) — and savin' — ''Good even' to ye, Miss O'Connor, sure it's like a queen ye are this evenin'!" ''Don't I know it?" I say. {Draping the cloak about Iter waist and trailing about in affected manner) Thin one o' thim would say, "How are ye?" And I'd look at thim like Miss Dorothy — (MucJi affected) — "I'm well, thank ye, only me narves, me narves." (Laugliing lieartily) That would drive thim crazy, together Avith the iligence of me movements! (She stumbles over tJie cloak, awkwardly, and comes near falling) Oh my, oh my! What's the matter with your feet, Kathleen O'Connor? (Brushing the cloak) Ye walk like an iliphant! ENTER David O'Connor d. r., carrying a letter O'Connor. Are ye there, Kathleen? Kathleen. I am. (Turning to O'Connor) O'Connor (advancing) . Here's a letter for ye — the Squire tould me to give it to ye, and for ye to take it serious. (Giving letter to Kathleen) Kathleen. Mebbe I will, and mebbe I won't. (Tak- ing letter) Will ye be afther throwin' a log o' wood on the fire, father, while I read me letter. (Inspecting it closely) O'Connor (xing toward d. l.). I will. (Drawing small flask from his pocket) And that's not all I'll be doin', do ye moind. (Putting the flask to his lips and taking a good drink) Kathleen (observing O'Connor). Oh, father, I'm ashamed o' ye. (To r. c.) O'Connor. I'm ashamed o' meself, and that's what drove me to it! [EXIT d. l., winking and laurj] ing Kathleen. Faith, there's somethin' inside beside writin'! (Feeling the letter as she advances to in front of bench r. c. She throws the cloak about her shoid- ders) I wonder what it is? (Seating herself r. c. and opening letter) It's somethin' hard like (Ring Kathleen Mavourneen 23 dt'ops from tlie envelope) Be Saint Patrick, whose even it is — a ring! {Admiring it) Oh, how it sparkles ! I suppose this is to go on all me fingers, one at a time. {Putting it on Iter finger) Oh my! will ye look at that! I'll have to be tyin' a string on it or it'll drop in the butter whin I churn! What does he say in the letter? {Reading letter) ''Beautiful Kathleen" — there he goes again ! "I write to say to you the Vv^ords you would not let me speak — I love you." What's this? {Re- peating) '^1 love you — be my wife, and you will have fortune, position, and happiness showered upon ye. Your devoted lover, Bernard Kavanagh — to this I long to add the name, husband. I will pass your door to- morrow. Wait for me, and tell me v/ith your own lips that you will be mine!" {Astonislied) Be all the saints! Am I dreamin' or crazy? (Terence lieard off stage singing a snatch of an Irish song) I never read anything like that! {Admiring ring) And I niver had anything like that! {Repeating) ''Be mine, ye shall have fortune, happiness " I don't think I'm awake at all — let me read it again. {Ahsorhed in letter) ENTER Terence O'More d. r. Terence. Kathleen Mavourneen, where are ye, dar- lin'? {Observes her down r. Kathleen remains ah- sorhed in letter, unaware of Terence's presence. He does not see the letter) Ah, there she is, as quiet as a mouse — somethin' unusual for a woman. {Advancing a step) Kathleen {regarding letter). I can't get it through me head. Terence {listening). What's that she's sayin'? Kathleen {repeating). Beautiful Kathleen! Terence. Beautiful Kathleen! She's asleep and thinks I'm talkin' to her. {Advancing a step noise- lessly) Kathleen {repeating from letter). Let me say — I love ye. 24 Kathleen Mavourneen Terence. I know she's talkin' about me. (Nodding approval) Kathleen (same action). I write to say — be me wife Terence. Sure I don't have to write a letter to say that! Kathleen {same action). You will have fortune, po- sition and happiness showered upon you! Terence {puzzled). Fortune, is it? I wonder where I'll get it? I don't remimber promisin' that. {Advanc- ing a step) Kathleen. Your devoted lover Terence. That 's me, an ' well the darliu ' knoAvs it ! Kathleen. Tell me with your ov/n lips, ye '11 be mine! Terence. Faith, I can 't stand here and listen to this. {In loud tone) Kathleen, me oa\ti Kathleen Mavour- neen! Kathleen {rising quickly, turning, facing Terence). Terry O'More — is it you, comin' to scare me out o' me wits ! Terence. Come to me arms and ye '11 be easy! {Laugliing) Ye were asleep an' talkin' of me, darlin'! Kathleen. Was I? {In alarm) Oh, murther! What did I say — who was I talkin' about? {Turning a step aside, Jturriedly concealing tlie letter in Tier dress) Terence. Meself , and the letter I sint ye — I mane the letter you were dreamin' I sint ye. Kathleen. It 's clear out o ' me sinses I am ! Terence. Ye needn't bother your brains bekase I'm here to talk for meself, and you're not asleep, but your blue eyes are as wide open as a church door. Kathleen. 'Tis chilly I am with the door open — I '11 put on me cloak. {Drawing tlie cloak about Tier, eyeing Terence coquet tislihj) Terence (c. surveying lier in astonisJiment) . Peppy, the piper ! what 's that ? Kathleen. Ain 't it me cloak ? Kathleen Mavourneen 25 Terence. 'Tis not the one ye've been wearin' for the last four years. Kathleen. Of course it's not — it's me new one — the Squire and his sister were afther payin' us a visit, and Miss Dorothy gave me the cloak for a present, bekase I gave her six cups of tay, and eight or nine or ten cakes. Terence. Be gob, it's worth it! Ye look uncommon beautiful in that, darlin ' ! Whin I take ye out walkin ' in that cloak, ha, ha ! I '11 be proud o ' ye ! Kathleen. Will ye sit down, Terry? {Seating Tier- self on R. end of hench) Terence. I will. (Xing to hencli r. c. Jie sits beside Kathleen) And as I'm a bit chilly, I'll trouble ye for a bit o' the cloak. {He draivs one end about Mm, and one arm about Kathleen) Kathleen. Don 't tear it. Terence. I'm not, darlin' — I w^ant to tell ye a bit o' me mind, so put your head on me shoulder and listen. Kathleen. I can listen better this way. {Sitting erect) Terence. It's an enchantress 3^e are, Kathleen Ma- vourneen — I forget all I'm plannin' to say whin I look at ye. Kathleen. Arrah, then don't look at me — take me hand instead. {Giving Mm Tier left liand) Terence. 'Tis a soft hand ye have, me darlin '. ( Tak- ing Tier hand) Kathleen. Do ye think so, Terry? Terence {feeling ring). What's this? Is it a corn ye have comin' on your finger? Kathleen. Glory be ! I forgot, it 's me ring ! Terence {observing ring). A ring, wid a piece 0' glass in it! Kathleen. It 's a ring and a rale diamond ! Terence. A diamond! {Astonislied) Who'd be afther givin' ye a diamond ring? Kathleen. Ye '11 niver guess. {LigJit laugh) Terence. I'll not try. Kathleen. The Squire! 26 Kathleen Mavourneen Terence {astonished). Squire Kavanagh ! Kathleen. Himself ! Terence. Indeed! well that's mighty kind o' him — he niver gave wan to me. Kathleen (laugliing). How would ye look in a dia- mond ring, Terry? Terence. Let me see. {Drawing ring from Iter fin- ger) Sure it fits like a thimble! {Putting it on tlie tip of liis finger) It's all on top bedad! It looks like a bunch ' ribbons on a pig 's tail — a bit out o ' place ! Kathleen. Isn't it beautiful, Terence? {Taking ring, admiring it) Terence. I'm not in the humor o' payin' compli- ments to the Squire's present. Kathleen. Are ye jealous, Terry? {LaugJiing) Terence. Yf ell, I 'm not expressin ' meself . Now I '11 tell ye what I was goin ' to say to ye. I 've been thinkin ', Kathleen, that it's .mighty dull to be leadin' a bache- lor's life — I've had enough o' it, and I think you have. Kathleen. Don't be callin' a lady a bachelor. Terence. You're not a lady, Kathleen. Kathleen {sliarply). What are ye sayin', Terry O'More? Terence {correcting). I mane, ye are not a bache- lor — I mint it for meself. I've made up me mind that it 's time for you to get married ! Kathleen. Have ye now? Terence. I have, and I'll not be breakin' your heart by sayin' no, whin we've been waitin' for each other four years, six months, twenty-nine days, and three hours ; whin we 're married, ye shall have everything ye want, except money, so give me your promise, darlin', that ye '11 be Mrs. Terence 'More — to-morrow mornin ' ! Kathleen {astonislied) . To-morrow! That's givin' me no time to get ready ! Terence. Ye 're ready now, and I 'm tired o ' waitin ' ! Kathleen. Give me a little time, Terence. Terence. I '11 give ye all the time ye want, darlin ' — ye can have five minutes, and no more. Kathleen Mavourneen 27 Kathleen. But I must have a new dress, laddie. Terence. Arrah, darling I couldn't love ye more if ye had twenty-five new dresses, and wearin' all at one time! Kathleen. I couldn't think o' gettin' married in mo old clothes. Terence. Ye can wrap yourself in your red cloai;. and ye '11 look like a princess — and sure, whin his Riv- erence speaks the words that makes je mine, I'll be r;; happy as any prince that ever walked! Kathleen. Ye take me by surprise to-day. (Risiiw) Terence. The devil bit 0' surprise. {Rismg 1 Ye've heard me tell ye tin thousand times that I love the ground ye walk on, and the soles 0' your cute little shoes ! Kathleen. I wonder if ye could make a lady of me? Terence. I don't think so. {A step to c. Kath- leen, R. c, pouts at tills remark) But I'll excuse ye if ye '11 say yes. Kathleen {earnest and affectionate). Ah, Terry, ye know how to get on the good side o' me, ye do — {Ad- vancing to liim) — ye divil! Haven't we known each other ever since I was so high — {Measuring) — and do ye think it 's want of love for ye that makes me hesitate ? Terence {embracing Tier). What is it, darlin'? Kathleen. I was thinkin' Terence. Of me ! Kathleen. And many other things — it's a serious thing to be gettin' married — that is, the first time — I suppose some folks get used to it, whin they've had three or four husbands, like Widow McGee. Terence. What are ye talkin ', Mavourneen ? Do you think I '11 die an ' lave ye, a handsome widdy woman, for some scalawag to steal? No, bedad! I'll niver die — unless ye '11 consent to die with me ! Kathleen. I '11 give ye your answer to-morrow, Ter- ence. Terence. Will it be the answer I want? 28 Kathleen Mavourneen Kathleen. I think so — wait and see. {Drawing away) Terence. Ye want to tease me! {Releasing lier) Whatever ye say, darlin ' ! I won 't argue with ye now — wait until after we 're married ! Kathleen. I want to think about it, Terry, and dream about it. (Xing slowly to in front of hencli r.) Dream about it, when you're gone! {Sitting on the hencli R. Iter manner dreamy, pre-occupied) Terence. I'll lave ye, and I know ye '11 say yes. {Earnestly) Sure, if I was to lose ye, Kathleen Kathleen. What would ye do, Terry? Terence. I couldn't stand it — I love ye, acushla, and I'm lavin' ye with a heart as light as the moon that's shinin' over us. Good night, Mavourneen. May the angels bring ye happy dreams. {Slowly up to d. r.) If ye hear a voice singin' under your window, ye '11 know it's me. I'll come to-morrow for me answer. {Going towards d. r.) Good night. Sweet Kathleen Ma- vourneen. Kathleen {low, dreamy tone). Good night, Terry, darlin'! Terence. Good night. [EXIT slowly, throwing a kiss, d. r. {Use hird ivliistle for song of birds singing outside) Kathleen. Terry ! Sure he loves me, and I love him — I Avish I had niver seen the Squire, the ould gipsy — he 's put strange notions in me head. ( Repeating, drows- ily) Ye '11 have fortune, position, happiness. There's no denjdn ', I 'd like to be a lady — for a little while, any- how. {Yawning) I'm that sleepy! {Lying on the bench, drawing the pillows under her head, and the cloak over her) But how could I forget Terry? {The song of the bird is continued outside, the moonlight strikes in through the window, reflecting on Kathleen, and the music of *' Kathleen Mavourneen^* is played softly out- Kathleen Mavourneen 29 side. Dreamily, as she falls asleep) Torry — I could never forget him — heaven keep me safe, and bless Terry! {The music is continued till end, and, if possible, Tkk- p:nce sings the song outside, the melody growing fainter and more distant, as Kathleen remains quiet on the bench — asleep) Slow Curtain 30 Kathleen Mavourneen ACT II Scene. — An Exterior. An attractive garden adjoining tlie home of Bernard Kavanagh. Wood wings. Ripple drop, or wood drop. Foliage horders, and foliage set pieces to mask in. The hack of the stage may show a run, if desired. On the l. down stage, two or three broad steps, with halustrade, represent a terrace, leading to the house; the house is not seen. Rustic garden furniture. A rustic table on the r. Rustic chairs at r. and l. of it. Rustic settee on the L. DOWN stage. An urn or two with trailing vines, on the terrace and up stage, if available; use any- thing else to dress the stage, but do not crowd it, and keep entrances clear. LIGHTS, ai rise, soft sunset glow. Deepen to moonlight; spot light off stage to strike across center for the struggle and cur- tain. MUSIC:— '^r/ic Last Rose of Summer'' DISCOVERED Kathleen, pale and despondent, seated r. of table; a book open on table, her eyes on the book and her \ead resting wearily in her hand. ENTER Kitty O'Laverty from l., pausing a second as she observes Kathleen Kitty. Poor lady! (To Kathleen) Excuse me, ma'am, it hurts me to think o* ye out here all be yerself. (Advancing to c.) Can't I do somethin' fer ye? (Re- garding Kathleen in sympathy) Kathleen (looking at Kitty). What can ye do, Kitty ? What can anyone do for me ? Kitty. I know how unhappy ye are — (Advancing to Kathleen Mavourneen 31 L. of table)— ^ndi it breaks me heart to see ye day afther day Kathleen. You know why. I have no secrets trom ye. Let my fate be a warnin ' to ye— don 't try to be more than nature intended. Kitty. No, ma'am. (SigJiing) Kathleen. I have what I asked for — I'm a rich man's wife, I live in a big house, with servants to wait on me, and though he tould me happiness would be show- ered on me, 'tis not true, bekase no one can be happy without love. The Squire's ashamed 0' the poor girl he used to flatter, so he laves me alone to me own sad, bitter thoughts. (Weeping softly) Kitty. Oh, ma'am, if ye cry all the time, ye '11 spoil your eyes. There must be somethin ' I can do to cheer ye a bit. Kathleen. No, thank ye, Kitty, there is nothing Kavanagh {ojf L. in quick, Jiarsli tones). All right — come in the morning, I can 't see you now. Kitty (nervously, a step toward c). It's the master; faith, he don't seem to be in a good humor. (Glancing L. nervously) I better go. Kathleen. Don 't leave me, Kitty ; he may not be so harsh if someone is here. Kavanagh (off l. liarsJi tone). I tell you, come to- morrow. (He ENTERS from l., speaking off as lie ap- pears) I don't talk business in the evening — confound the fellow! (Advancing a step, then pausing as lie ob- serves Kathleen, frowning at lier) H'm! you! Why don't you say good evening, or greet me pleasantly? (Advancing to c.) Kathleen. I didn't think you'd notice me Kavanagh (harsli tone). No one could help noticing such a doleful picture as you present. (To Kitty) What do you want here? Kitty (a nervous jump at Ms tone). No — nothing, sir — I v,^as only Kavanagh. Only talking about me behind my back — just like women — deceitful creatures ! Clear out ! 32 Kathleen Mavourneen Kitty. I wasn't sayin' a word again' ye, nor her ladyship — (Glancing nervously at Kathleen) We were praisin ' ye to the skies ! Kavanagh. I don't believe it — go! Kitty. I will — (Xing rapidly to. Ij. c.) — if ye'd only speak a kind word to the lady sir — {Indicating Kath- leen) Kavanagh. What! (Facing lier in anger) Are you dictating to mef Kitty (witli sudden spirit) . I am — and I 'd like to be dictatin' a warrant for your arrest! Ye cruel-hearted spilodeen ! Kavanagh (in anger). Silence — get out, I say! Kitty (increasing indignation). I'll not get out, till I've had me say! (Stamping lier foot at liim) Ye can discharge me if ye want to — I'm only stayin' for her ladyship's sake — (Indicating Kathij^en) — not for you — I'd like to poison ye, ye divil! (Sliaking her fist at liim, tlien site EXITS l. in great rage) Kavanagh. Impudent menial! (Turning to Kath- leen) That's one of your servants, the one you make a friend of ! Kathleen. Forgive her. I'm sorry she spake like that to ye Kavanagh. ''Spake!" (Imitating lier tone scorn- fidly) Confound your common method of speech! I'm ashamed of it ! (To l. c. in irritation) Kathleen. I was never taught much in school Kavanagh (twining on lier sliarply). I should say not, but that doesn't excuse you, sitting here, moping like a sick owl! (Advancing a step) What's the mat- ter with 3^ou, do you hear? Kathleen (wincing at liis sliarp tone). I do — please don't Kavanagh (same sliarp tone). Answer me! Kathleen (tearfully) . I 'm dull, Aveary, miserable ! Kavanagh (scornfully). You are? when you have everything you want — you prefer to make everybody in the house miserable! If you are dull, why don't you Kathleen Mavourneen 33 read, or play the piano, or sing? {Sitting l. c, lighting a cigar and smoking) Kathleen. I try to read — {Indicating lier hook) — but it 's all blurred — through me tears ! Kavanagh. Tears — h 'm ! Affectation ! Kathleen. I can play only Irish songs your sister don't like to hear, and as for singing, how can I sing whin me heart's so sad, the words choke me! {Tear- fidly) Kavanagh {turning, looking at Iter). Upon my soul! I can't understand what makes you miserable, as you say. You have deceived me ! Kathleen {looking at Mm, startled). Deceived ye! What do ye mane? Kavanagh. There 's some more of it — ' ' mane ! ' ' Say mean ! Kavanagh {trying to pronounce it). Me-mean. I'll try, sir. Kavanagpi. When I say you deceived me, I mean, I thought you were a girl of gay, youthful spirits, light- hearted under all circumstances. Kathleen. I was when you first met me — {Sadly) — but winter rain puts out fire, and cold winds blow down the blossoms — if ye want to know the truth — it's your unkindness that's driven the light out of me life. Kavanagh {affecting astonisliment). My unkindness ! {Rising) What an unjust charge! Your infernal com- plaining has ruined my even, amiable disposition — yoa see how one ill-natured person can affect another! {Sigliing, sliaking liis head dolefxdly — with humorous effect. Advancing) But you can understand this — since you say you are wretched here, where you have every- thing to make ynu happy, jovl are at liberty to go where you please. Kathleen {rising). Where would ye have me go? Kavanagh. Anywhere — I don 't care — home, perhaps, to your kitchen, your wash tub, which so well suits you ! Kathleen. Home! where folks would laugh at me and point me out as the foolish bird that tried to fly to 34 Kathleen Mavourneen the sun, and only broke its wings! (Down stage a step] No — I can 't go back ! Kavanagh. Well, then, you might go to the rusti( fellov/ you used to talk about — Terry, I believe. {Tc L. near seat) Kathleen. Terry — neaven bless him! Don't spake of him! {Kayanagu laugJis scoimfully) Since ye mar- ried me, ye '11 condescind to let me stay here — till I die Kavanagh. Die! (Glancing at lier contemptuously) You are much too healthy looking to die very soon. Anc since you seem determined to snivel and moan, I woulc rather be alone. Go! {Turning Ms hack to Tier, stand- ing DOWN L. of c, smoking) Kathleen {advancing to c.) Go! Ye sind me like ye sind your servant ! Kavanagh. ''Sind!" Ye gods! {Repeating tin word scornfully, and mucli in^itated) Kathleen. Oh, I'm punished — ye niver eared foi me, though I believed your foin words. I thought I was going to be a lady and a happy wife — I'm a slave, the miserable slave of a cruel, hard man! {Tlie faint eclic of tJie song, "Kathleen Mavourneen," sung hy Terenci off R. at hack, is lieard. If tlie song is not used, suhsti- tute tlie music, played off stage, very soft. Kathleen listens as slie liears tlie song) Faith, what's that? Am I dreamin ' ! Kavanagh. Raving, I imagine. {Sitting l. c.) Kathleen {net heeding Kavanagh, listening to music). Terry! Terry's song. {She moves slowly to- ward R. in direction of the music) I broke his heart, poor lad. He's coming here, and I can't meet his honest eyes. If he could read me heart, he'd know I can niver forgive meself. Terry! Terry! {As the music is con- tinued, she XES slowly to r. and EXITS. When Kathleen is well off, the ynusic, growing gradually fainter, ceases) Kathleen Mavourneen 35 ENTER Dorothy Kavanagh from l. Dorothy. I'm glad to find you here — I must speak to you about the conduct of your wife. {Advancing to R. of c. DOWN stage) Kavanagh (rising, turning to Dorothy). Don't bother me about her — there are more important matters to discuss. Dorothy. Yes — money. You have reduced my allow- ance Kavanagh. Necessity. Dorothy. I can scarcely make a respectable appear- ance. Kavanagh. You may be unable to make any appear- ance in society, very soon. Dorothy (astonislied and displeased) . Indeed! what do you mean ? Kavanagh {advancing a step) . I shall not mince mat- ters — we are on the brink of ruin ! Dorothy {startled). Ruin! Kavanagh. The estate is mortgaged far beyond its value, and the only chance I have to pull through is by marrying Ormsby's daughter. She is an accomplished girl, very much in love with me, and her father is rich. Dorothy. How can you marry when you have a wife living ? Kavanagh. You mean Kathleen! Dorothy. Of course I do — what a wretched mistake it was ! Kavanagh. Kathleen! {Laugliing, liiglily amused) I '11 let you into a secret. She thinks she is my wife, but the ceremony was not performed by a priest! Dorothy {astonislied) . Bernard, is it possible, a false priest ! Kavanagh. As you know, we eloped — it looked ro- mantic — in reality, it covered a deeper purpose. A clever arrangement, since I was only amusing myself with this farmer's daughter. Dorothy. And Kathleen is not your wife ! 36 Kathleen Mavourneen Kavanagh. Certainly not — I 'm through with her and ready for Ormsby's money. Dorothy. Hov/ will you get rid of Kathleen? Kavanagh. I will ask your assistance, dear sister. I have written her dismissal in this letter. {Drawing a letter from Ms pocket, extending it to Iter) I Avill ask you to deliver it. Dorothy. If I remember correctly, that is the way you proposed to her — hy letter. {Taking letter) Kavanagh. Exactly — clever arrangement on my part. Dorothy. I think it shows want of courage. Kavanagh {piqued). Oh, do you? Dorothy. Why don 't you tell her ? Kavanagh {moving aivay a step or two). There would be a scene, and I detest scenes; that is, with women. Dorothy. You mean, you fear them. {Sitting at l. of table R. c.) Kavanagh. Call it fear if you wish — I am naturally of a peaceable, amiable disposition, and it hurts me to make women suffer! Dorothy. Does it? {Looking at letter) Kavanagh. Yes. Of course, if she makes a great time over it, you may call on me for aid. Dorothy. That is kind of you — I Avill handle her and shall be glad of an opportunity to humiliate her for her daring presumption in thinking she could marry into our noble, aristocratic family! I wonder where she is? (Rising) ' Kavanagh. Roving about the grounds, moaning to herself ! She spends a great deal of time here, but avoids me — she is shamefully ungrateful for all my kindness. (Xing to terrace l.) I'll go ; if she is spying from some- where among the trees, your opportunity may come this evening. (Going off h.) I want it over as quickly as possible. [EXIT l. over terrace ^Dorothy {looks about, tlien xes to r., calling off r.) Kathleen ! Kathleen ! Kathleen Mavourneen 37 ENTER fro7n l. Kitty, carrying a large dark shawl. She comes in very cautiously Kitty. I wonder if himself has gone ! Dorothy {calling again). Kathleen! Probably she hears me and is too stubborn to reply. {Turning, she observes Kitty) Where is yonr mistress? Kitty {a hit nervously). I don't know, ma'am — I think she 's gone to a — a picnic Dorothy" {looking at Kitty in surprise and suspicion) . Picnic ! Kitty. Yis, ma'am, or a party — somethin' where she won't be home till late! {Looking at Dorothy in some defiance) Dorothy. Avoiding us. (Xing toward terrace l.) Look for her, at once, and when yon find her, come and tell me! [EXIT l., over terrace Kitty. Yis, ma'am, I will — {After Doroteiy disap- pears) — not ! {Indignantly) ' 'Tisn't enongh for the he- divil to be makin' the poor lady miserable, the s7ie-devil takes afther him! {Shaking her fist toward l. ivhere Dorothy disappeared) Bad luck to the pair 0' thim! {Calling softly) Your ladyship — where are ye? {Look- ing R.) Ye '11 get yer death o' cold here in the damp- ness. {Unfolding shawl) I've brought you this nice warm shawl to put over yer shoulders. (Bill Button Cap pokes his head from behind a tree or shrub r.) Bill {calling in a soft manner from r.). Kitty! Kitty {startled, looking about, not observing Bill). What's that? Bill {repeating). Kitty! Kitty. Ag'in! What the devil is it? {A step to- ward R., looking about) Bill ( repea ting ) . Kitty — Kitty — Kitty ! Kitty {alarmed). The saint's save me! {Making sign of the cross) It must be a ghost — I'm scart o' me life ! {She runs quickly off l.) 38 Kathleen Mavourneen ENTEE fi'otn r., Bill, noiselessly, eccentric steps. Bill {making a ghostly cry). Boo — oo! What a villain I am! {Chuckling) Scaring that sweet girl to death! {Repeating call) Kitty! {Looking l.) Here she comes — if she calls for help I '11 rescue her and she 11 think I'm a hero! {Goes quickly and noiselessly down to table, under which he crawls) Oh, what a villain I am! {Remaining quiet, peering out at Kitty) RE-ENTER from l., Kitty, cautiously; the shawl draped about her head and shoulders. Kitty. I make nothin' of it at all — at all, but I could swear be me patron saint someone said ''Kitty"! Bill {calling). Kitty! Kitty {looking at him in disgust). It's you! under the table ! ye rascal ! Bill {rising, advancing). Oh, what a villain I am! Kitty. That ye are, sindin' the shivers up an' down me spine for the loikes o' ye! {Regarding Mm indig- nantly) Bill. I'll forgive ye if ye '11 kiss me! (Advancing to Kitty) Kitty. I'll not — I'll have nothin' to do with ye. {Removing the shaivl) Bill. You don 't mean that, Kitty, honeysuckle — you know I love you — look in my face and read the light in my eyes! {hi exaggerated manner, posing c.) Kitty {looking at him). All I see is a squint! Bill. Look again, fair lady ! Kitty. Your face is dirty — go down to the kitchen and wash it with a slather o' soap! {To l. c, folding shaivl) Bill. Soap ! It 's too expensive — I wash my face with brick-dust. Kitty. Brick-dust ! And what do ye put on your red hair? {Sniffing and holding her nose) Bill. Oil — out of the lamp ! Kathleen Mavourneen 39 Kitty (retreating) . Ye smell it! Bill. I'm so fascinating, the smell of tlie oil keeps the ladies at a distance! (Cliuckling) Oh, what a vil- lain I am ! Kitty. Every time ye say that, ye speak the truth. Bill. How do yon like your place, Kitty? It looks comfortable! {Looking about) Kitty (l. c). It'll not be me place much longer — I forgot me manners and gave the master a piece 0' me moind. He didn't cai^e much for it, and I think I'll be afther quittin' here be to-morrow mornin'. Bill. That 's good news 1 Ha, ha ! Kitty. Ha, ha, is it? {Regarding liim scornfully) . Will ye find me another place? Bill. A place ! a place ! {Extravagantly) You have a place in my heart ! {Striking Ms cliest a tliump) And if you will say jes — {Striking liimself again. Kitty jumps every time Bill strikes liimself) — come to my arms, to my home, my queen! {Striking liimself) Kitty. Look out — ye '11 break your gizzard! Bill. My queen! {Dropping on liis knees witli arms out stret died to Kitty) Be mine, be mine, give me your hand, darling Kitty — {Grasping Iter linnd) — till death do us part. {He lias a firm grip of Kitty's liand, and slie, endeavoring to pull away from liim, drags Mm about on Ms knees) Kitty. Let me go, ye lunatic ! Bill. Oh, what a villain I am! Y7hat do you say to my prayer? Kitty. I say you're a loon — ^and ye ought to be locked in a loony asylum ! Bill. Listen to me, listen, Avhile I sing my song of love! {Attempting to sing in a Mgli, craclced tone) Kitty. Whist, with your singin' — {Looking n., liast- ily) There's someone comin'! What '11 I do with ye, at ail? Bill. Hide me — {rising) — hide me — oh, what a vil- lain I am! 40 Kathleen Mavourneen Kitty (excitedly) . Yc raii't ^o in, and ye can't go out ! Oh, ye '11 have me kilt ! Bill. I'll stay and brave the worst! {Striking mock lieroic pose) Kitty. The worst w^ould be your death, and me own ! Here, make a stool o' yourself! {Quickly unfolding tlie sliaivl) Bihh {astonisJied). A stool! Kitty. Do as I bid ye ! Down on your knees ! {Forc- ing liim to Ms knees l. of c. Bill, on liis knees, swing- ing Ills arms and hohhing liis head) Tuck in your head! {Givingliisliead a sliove) And your hands. {Bill folds Jiis arms tigJitly across liis cliest, and puffs out liis cJieeks) And keep your tongue in your head for the love o' the saints. (Bill in position of a low stool. Kitty tliroivs tlie sliawl over Imn, completely covering Mm) Bill {from under cover). I'm smothering! Kitty. Well, smother — it'll do ye good! No matter what happens, don't move — don't breathe! Bill {faintly, from under cover). Oh, what a villain you are ! (Kitty, in assumed indifference, sings a snatcli of song, tucking in tlie sliaid about Bill, tlien slie seats Tier self comfortably on Bill. He ivahhles, slie slaps at Mm, and, filially, wlien lie is quiet, Father Cassidy en- ters) NOTE : — The scenes in which Bill figures are broad comedy; they should be played on broad lines with as much comedy effect as possible. ENTER Father Cassidy from r. Cassidy {observing Kitty). Is it you, Kitty? {Ad- vancing DOWN to R. of c.) Kitty {rising). Ah, Father Cassidy — good even, your Riverence! {Advancing a step, curtsying to Mm) Cassidy. You ought to be at the choir rehearsal to- Kathleen Mavourneen 41 night, Kitty, instead of sitting here all alone, singing to yourself. Kitty (unguarded). Oh, no, your Riverence, I wasn't alone (Father Cassidy looks at Iter in sur- prise) I have company Cassidy. Ye have? (Looking about) I see no one! (He looks R., keeping Jiis liead turned in tliat direction a second. While Cassidy 's liead is turned, Bill sJiakes violently under the shawl; Kitty gives him a punch; Bill quiet) Kitty (correcting herself in confusion). Oh, no, of course ye don 't — I mane I had company ! Cassidy (looking at Kitty). Your master or mistress, I suppose. (Starting forward to c. on a line with Bill) Kitty (r. of c, watching Cassidy in apprehension) . Ye-yis, your Riverence ! Cassidy. I called to see Squire Kavanagh — about something important. (He draws from his pocket the paper he later shows at end of act, as he advances, about to walk over Bill in his stooping position) Kitty. 0-h! (A sharp cry of alarm, as she observes Cassidy nearing Bill) Cassidy (looking at Kitty) . What 's the matter ? Ye squeal like a young pig. (Replacing the paper in his pocket) Kitty (comic nervousness) . Be careful, your River- ence — ye might fall over the — the stool and hurt your- self ! (Indicating Bill) Cassidy. I see. (Looking at the '^ stool'') This you mean? (Indicating with his foot, about to give it a kick) Kitty (in great alarm). Don't kick it! for the love ' your life, don 't kick it ! It 's — it 's a delicate stool with only two legs! Cassidy (surprised) . Two legs! Faith, 'tis a queer piece o' furniture — a two-legged stool — what good is it, anyhow? Can I sit on it? (About to sit on the" stooV) Kitty (in terror). Don't, for the love o' Saint Pat- rick, don't do it! You'll get hurted, and so will the stool ! If ye don 't moind, your Riverence, take this chair 43 Kathleen Mavourneen — (Bloving tlie clinir at l. of table a little forivard) — ye can sit here and be safe, 'till the day o' judgment. Cassidy. Thank ye — I'll go in and see Squire Kava- nagh if he's not engaged. (Xing to terrace l., ivliere lie pauses, looking off) Kitty. Askin' your* Kiverence pardon, me master's in a mighty high timper at present, and I don't like the idy o' havin' him talk sassy to your Riverence. Cassidy. I've noticed the Squire has an ugly temper lately — {Advancing to c.) — He's not like himself. I'll wait a bit. Kitty (relieved). If ye would! And if ye would speak a few kind words to me mistress, it would cheer the poor lady Cassidy. What ails her ladyship ? Kitty. Ye can judge whin ye see her. If ye '11 wait in the park beyant — (Indicating r.) — I'll find her, and I know she '11 thank heaven for a sight o ' ye. Cassidy. I'll do it. (Xing to r. 2.) I've had me own viev/s about things here in the big house, and I'm not satisfied vv-ith the look of it. I'll come back pres- ently. [EXIT R. Kitty. I'm mighty sorry ye 're goin' — (As lie disap- pears) — I niver Avas so thankful in all me life! (Glanc- ing about y tlien slie runs to Bill) Get up, if you're livin'! Get up and run for your life! (TJiroiuing tlie sliawl hack from liis liead) Bill (as site tliroivs back tlie sliaivl). Oh, what a vil- lain I am ! Kitty. Ye '11 break me hea^i4t, and have me reputation ruined! G^et up, v^'ill ye? (Angrily snatching the shawl) Bill (rising, chuckling). I thought his Riverence was going to use me for a chair! And then we'd both go down in a pile, with me on top o' the holy father! (Laughing) Kitty (indignantly). Stop laughin' — makin' fun o' the minister o' the gospel! Clear out, will ye, as quick as your lazy bones will let ye ! Kathleen Mavourneen 43 Bill. I will — which way shall I run, sweet Kitty? Kitty {recklessly). Any way, only run! {Quickly correcting) No, ye can't do that! Whist — I'll have a look! {Going quickly to r., looking off; in alarm) Oh, murther — the divil botheration — there's someone else comin'! {Quickly returning to Bill, sJie gives liim a sliove, wliicli sends Mm to Ms knees c. iri the same posi- tion as before) Bill {kneeling c, protesting) . See here. Kit, I'm not going to be a two-legged stool forever Kitty {sJioving Mm down on Ms liands and knees). Hould your tongue, ye crazy gossoon! {Throwing the shawl over him as before) Bill {from under cover). Oh, what a villain I am! (Kitty runs quickly to l. as if to exit) ENTER fro7n r., Black Rody. He keeps his cap on and puffs at a pipe. Rody. Good evenin' to ye. {Addressing Kitty, ad- vancing a step or two) Kitty {on terrace l., turning, observing Rody, in sur- prise). Black Rody! Rody. Glad ye know me — sometimes ye don't, Kitty Laverty — ye passed me in the lane yisterday, an' divil a word ye spake to me. Ye 're getting stuck up in your present position. {A step down r. of c.) Kitty {advancing to c). What do ye want here? Rody. I'm here to see the Squire, immediately. Kitty {defiantly). Ye can't see him at all. Rody. Is that so? {Froiuning at Kitty) Kitty {short and curt). It is — good-bye. {Turning to terrace) Rody. I'll wait till I do see him. I'll take a seat on this comfortable stool — {Advancing toward Bill) Kitty {in quick alarm). No ye don't. {Running quickly to Bill, warding off Rody before he reaches the ^' stool") That's me favorite seat, and if there's any 44 Kathleen Mavourneen sittin' to do, I'll do it! (^With determined manner , slie sits on Bill) RoDY. I can stand as long as ye can sit! (Planting Mmself jirynly r. of c.) I'm here to see the master! Kitty. Thin, ye better go an' introduce yourself — ye '11 come out quicker thin ye go in ! RoDY. Is that so? {Looking toward L. irresolutely) Mebbe he'll be more pleased to see me than ye think. (Xing to terrace, looking l. As Rody xes to l., Kitty ivliirls around on tlie ^' stool," nearly upsetting Bill; tliis action unobserved by Rody) I wonder is he ex- pectin' me? Kitty (rising, indignantly). No, he's not lookin' for the loikes o' ye, Black Rody! (Advancing up c. a step facing Mm) He's in no timper for ye either, I'm warnin ' ye ! Rody (advancing a step to Kitty). You're gettin' to have a mighty ugly way o' speakin', Miss Kitty Lav- erty. I 'm a f rind o ' the Squire, and you 're a servant — go tell him I'm. here, and no nonsense about it! (He advances toward tlie *' stool") And while ye 're gone, I '11 have a seat on your favorite stool, make meself com- fortable, an' smoke me pipe (He suddenly sits on Bill. As Rody sits on Bill, Bill collapses, Rody tum- bles witli Mm, botli rolling over, entangling tliemselves in tlie sliaivl, struggling in comic manner, wMle Kitty regards tliem in terror) Kitty. Oh ! m.urther ! Peter ! Patrick ! Help ! mur- ther! thieves! thieves! murther! murther! (She con- tinues to cry out in comic terror, pulling at tlie sliawl, until slie unwinds it. Tlie two men struggle, finally rise, and Rody cliases Bill off r. Kitty c. on verge of col- lapse, liolding tlie sliawl) Bill (as lie runs off r.). Oh, what a villain I am! (Rody runs after Bill, striking at Mm) [EXIT Bill and Rody r. Kitty (after tlie men exit). Oh! glory be to heaven, 'tis worse thin an earthquake! Me heart's palpitatin' clear through me shoulder blades, an ' me head 's spinnin ' Kathleen Mavourneen 45 with the fright ! Why did I iver make a two-legged stool o'Biin ENTER Dorothy on terrace l. Dorothy. What is all this racket, Kitty? Kitty {confused) . Racket, ma'am! Sure it was the cats — bad luck to thim! They got to fightin', ma'am, right here in the garden, and I had me own time sepa- ratin' thim! Dorothy. Cats! {Looking at Kitty suspiciously) It had a very different sound to me. {Advancing to L. c.) Kitty. Yis, ma'am, cats do make a mighty different kind 0' noise — don't I know it! {Gathering up the shaivly whichy in her confusion, she is dragging about her feet and stumbling over) Dorothy. Have you seen my brother's — wife? ENTER Kathleen from r. slowly Kitty {observing Kathleen). Here she is. {To Kathleen) Ye must be cold, ma'am, sure 'tis late, and the night is chilly — let me put this about ye. {Advanc- ing, placing the shawl about Kathleen) Kathleen. Thank you, Kitty. {Advancing slowly) You are always trying to do something for me. Kitty. 'Tisn't much I can do, ma'am, I'm sorry to say — will ye come inside? {Indicating l.) Dorothy. One moment. {Looking at Kathleen) I want to speak a word to you — a very important word. {To Kitty) You may go. (Kathleen silently ad- vances DOWN to R. c, drawing the shawl ahout her, shiv- ering, while Kitty looks at her in pity, then in some hes- itation, she turns to l.) Kitty {looking at Kathleen, speaking to Dorothy). I will. {To Kathleen) I'll wait for ye, ma'am, and help ye to bed. [EXIT l. Dorothy (a short hard laugh). Help you to bed! 46 Kathleen Mavourneen {To Kathleen) That must recall to you that scene in your kitchen when you told me how anxious you were to be a lady ! Kathleen {sorrowfully). When I wanted to be a lady! Don't remind me — I was happy until that day, when you came, with the red cloak, and I lost me senses. {Sinking dejectedly in cJiair at l. of table r. c.) Dorothy {advancing to c). Since you constantly re- mind us that 5^ou are unhappy, I Avant to tell you some- thing that may cheer you. {Drawing tlie letter Kav- ANAGH gave Iter from lier dress) Kathleen {looking at Iter inquiringly). What can it be? Dorothy. I am sure my brother has been most kind and loving, but you appear to think he neglects you. (Kathleen siglis, turning lier head aside) You can- not expect him to find pleasure in your society, because of the great difference in your education, your man- ners Kathleen {quiet dignity). He knew before he mar- ried me. Dorothy. He did not realize it — you planned so cunningly to fascinate him, poor man! But his eyes are now open, and you cannot be surprised if he finds other women attractive Kathleen {rising). Stop, if ye please. You are his sister, and mine, by law, but if ye come to tell me of me husband 's faithlessness, I don 't want to hear it ! Dorothy. Since you accept the situation, we will not prolong this interview. He is tired of you — thoroughly tired and disgusted. Kathleen. Tired and disgusted — {In distress) — is it true? Dorothy. It is true, and more — you will find it ex- plained in this letter which he requested me to give you. {Handing the letter) The contents may surprise j^ou — {A short laugh as she turns toward terrace l.) — but you must learn the facts, and so I have brought them to you as gently as possible. {On terrace) My dear brother Kathleen Mavourneen 47 wishes to spare yon all lie can; we hope yon will be eqnally considerate of onr feelings aiid go qnietly. Kathleen {regarding letter ^ puzzled). Go! Dorothy. You will understand when you read the letter. [EXIT l. ENTER Father Cassidy from r. ; lie rejnains quietly up stage, unobserved by Kathleen, tvat citing Iter and listening as slie reads tlie letter Kathleen {contemplating letter) . Understand when I read it — a letter from me husband — how strange it seems to call the Squire husband — it was Terry I thought {Pausing) There's something wrong about it — the blood seems lavin' me heart! {Her liands trembling in agitation as slie opens tlie letter) What could he write to me that he couldn't say to me face? {Beading letter) '^ Madam — your dream, must end. You think you are my wife — you are not. The man who performed the marriage ceremony was not a priest, but a friend of mine, who did me the favor." (Kathleen, nearly overcome, staggers a step toward r. c. as slie con- tinues to read) ''You are not Mrs. Kavanagh — you are only the farmer's daughter, Kathleen O'Connor. You may go where you please on condition that you do not molest me. Good-bye. Bernard Kavanagh!" {In agi- tation) Oh! Father in heaven! I am not a wife, but only Kathleen O'Connor, without a home, without a name! The shame will kill me — kill me! {Slie sivays and falls senseless c.) Cassidy {advances quickly down c, calling off l. in a quick, strong, stern voice). Bernard Kavanagh! {Speaking off l.) Come here! Come here! {He turns quickly to Kathleen and takes tlie letter from Iter un- conscious liand) ENTER Bernard Kavanagh from l. quickly, and alarmed, followed by Dorothy, also sliowing some alarm; slie remains on tlie terrace Kavanagh {great surprise). A priest! {Advancing a step) Your Reverence — — 48 Kathleen Mavourneeri Cassidy (sternly). You wretch! This is your letter, see what it has done! (Pointing to tlie form of Kath- leen) But it's a lie — it Avas no friend of yours that per- formed that ceremony, although ye thought it was, in the dark little chapel of Saint Peter! Kavanagh. Who was it ? Cassidy. It was meself ! Kavanagh (astonisJied) . You! Cassidy. A priest of the church! It was a lawful marriage! (Drawing certificate from Ms pocket) Here is the certificate signed by your own hand. Kathleen O'Connor is your wife, in the sight of God and man! (Dorothy, on terrace, displays great astonisliment. Kavanagh, overcome witJi surprise and anger, stands L. 7iear terrace, looking at Cassidy. Cassidy c, indig- nantly regarding Kavanagh. Kathleen on the floor, motionless. Music — "KatJdeen Mavourneen/* Quick Curtain ACT III Scene I : — Same as Act II. Lights medium, to darken at end of Act. At rise Bernard Kavanagh is DISCOVERED, pacing restlessly, froivning and ill- tempered. ENTER from l. on terrace, Dorothy Kavanagh (turning to Dorothy, sharply) . Well, what is the report? (r. of c.) Dorothy (advancing toward c). Kathleen refuses to see me. Kavanagh (in anger). You should not be refused! (Pacing a step or two to r. down stage, and hack again) Dorothy. Kitty says she is better and able to walk about her room. (Advancing down to l, of c.) Kavanagh. Better! (In anger) That letter was enough to kill her, yet she refuses to die ! Kathleen Mavourneen 49 Dorothy. These rustics have splendid constitutions — you will not find it so easy to get rid of her — she is your wife. {Seating lierself l. c.) Kavanagh (pausing c, sharply). Don't remind me of that ! Dorothy. You say our money is gone and that you can save yourself only by a rich marriage — but you can- not marry while Kathleen lives. Kavanagh. That's the point — while Kathleen lives! How I hate her — presuming fool ! Dorothy. What will you do? Kavanagh. Get rid of her ! Dorothy {regarding liim in surprise). How? Kavanagh. With ruin staring me in the face, I am driven to desperate means, which I shall not explain to you. Dorothy {rising, in some alar^m). You don't mean to harm her? Kavanagh (c. sternly, determined) . I mean to pro- tect myself, — and you ! Dorothy {reassured) . You were always resourceful, even as a boy, and I am sure you will find a way to rid yourself of this horrible mistake. {Turfiing up l. a step) Kavanagh. It is, indeed, a horrible mistake ; she will suffer most, where she might have spared herself had she gone quietly. {Pausing c. down stage) Dorothy (up l. near terrace). You forget — she was ambitious to be a lady, wife of the Squire, socially prom- inent, and supposed to be rich. {Going l. on terrace) Women of her stamp are not so easy to shake off — they lack our fine sensibilities, brother. {LaugJiing, ratlier unpleasantly) Kavanagh. You may spare me your sarcasm, sister — I am not in the mood to enjoy it. DoROTPiY {same tone). To a man holding your strict views, Kathleen 's conduct appears shockingly unscrupu- lous! {Laugliing again) Doesn't it, brother dear? (Kavanagh, greatly irritated, xes toward r.) I won- 50 Kathleen Mavourneen der what Mary Ormsby will say when she hears the story? Kavanagh {turning sliarply). She shall never hear it — you will keep vour month closed and heaven knows I will ! Dorothy. And her father, David O'Connor? Kavanagh. That for the old fool! (Contemptuously snapping liis fingers) Dorothy. And — Kathleen? {Looking at liim stead- ily) Kavanagh. Kathleen! {Advancing to c, speaking in a steady y cruel tone) Kathleen will never talk, never ! Dorothy {a sigli of relief). I am glad to hear it-^ I conld never stand the humiliation of having people gossip about us! We are such a noble family! {Firmer tone) But remember, brother, it is for you to act quickly — I must have money to maintain my position, and I look to you for it ! Kavanagh. I will not disappoint you. Dorothy. Shall I carry any message to — your wife? Kavanagh {bitterly). Tell her I Vvdsh she was dead! Dorothy {liglit laugJi). I will — I am sure she will be delighted at your loving remembrance! Kavanagh. What a fool a man is! And what wretched creatures women are ! Selfish, ungrateful, vain and unscrupulous! (Xing to l. c.) But we shall see if Father Cassidy's interference does not work her more harm than good ! Dorothy {going l.). Do not fail to act quicklv. [EXIT L. ENTER from r. Black Rody, sloucliing in, reptdsive^ and ivitli tlie same old pipe in liis moutli Rody. Sarvant, Squire. {Toucliing Ms cap as lie ad- vances to c.) Kavanagh {turning, observing Rody). Rody! I am glad you came. {Advancing a step to c.) Kathleen Mavourneen 51 KoDY. Thank ye, Squire. {Swelling in some impor- tance as lie advances to cJiair at h. of table, and arranges it to seat liimself) Kavanagh. You recall our last conversation? EoDY. 0' coorse I do. {Seating liimself comfort- ably) Kavanagh (c, standing). Have you made up your mind to do it ? RoDY. 0' coorse I have. Kavanagh. When ? RoDY. To-night. Kayanagu {startled). To-night! {Staring at Rody) RoDY {calmhj). To-night. Is it soon enough? Kavanagh. Yes — {Glancing about nervously) — the sooner the better. {Advancing closer to Rody) You re- member the terms? Rody. O' coorse I do. {A knowing laugli and wink) That's somethin' I niver forget. Kavanagh. A hundred guineas! It's a large sum! {Moving away a step) Rody. It's a large job! {Looking at Kay ATS^7ie re-enacts the struggle of Act II. Terence watches her in puzzled amazement, as they continue to misunderstand each other, and play at cross-purposes) Terence. The spade ? Faith, I pick up a spade every day 0' me life. Kathleen. And didn't ye go at him like that — with all your might ! {Imitating) And didn't ye hit him a fearful blow? Terence. Well, I might have raised me spade to drive Finnerty's ould mule out 0' me path Kathleen. 'Twasn't a mule ye hit Terence. Thin it must have been a pig. Kathleen {looking at him in solemn manner). 'Twas a human him! The sight of it — I can see it before me eyes! {Turning a step aside in horror) Terence. Ye can — 'tis more thin I see — and I want 70 Kathleen Mavourneen ye to understand that I'd niver be doin' anything so ongintlemany ! Kathleen {looking at Mm, in surprise). Didn't ye brain him with the spade? {Imitating) Terence. Do ye mane the pig? Kathleen (ijTifaiecZ). 'Tis no pig I'm talkin' about — well ye know it ! Terence. Faith, I don 't think a mule has any brains at all at all! {LaugJiing, as lie turns a step down to R. c.) Kathleen {advancing down a step). I don't mane a mule — I mane, Black Rody! Terence {regardiiig Tier in surprise). Black Rody I The best friend I have ! Kathleen. Ye killed him ! Terence. I did? Well, thin, all I can say — ^he^s a mighty healthy-lookin ' dead man, bekase I met him in the lane beyant not tin minutes ago ! Kathleen. Oh, Terry, 'twas his ghost came back to hant ye! {Draiving hack in comic terror) Terence {some impatience). What the divil are ye talkin' about anyhow, Kathleen? Kathleen {indignantly) . What am I talkin' about? Ain 't ye the innocent creature ! Ye won 't deny that ye stabbed the Squire like that? {Imitating tJie tlirust of Act III) Terence {amazed). I did! I killed the Squire! Kathleen. Ye did! Terence. Ye '11 have me murtherin' the whole neigh- borhood if ye keep on talkin ' like this ! Kathleen. Didn't I see it with me own eyes, and Father Cassidy accusin' ye? Terence. Ye niver saw me harmin' a livin' soul — I can prove it by his Riverence! Kathleen. Thin, what wasi it? If I didn't see ye with me own eyes, thin it must be maddish I am! Terence. I'll take ye no matter how mad ye are, Mavourneen. {Advancing, placing an arm about lier, Kathleen Mavourneen 71 leading Iter down c.) I'm not a bit afraid 0' ye, if ye are crazy! Kathleen. Do ye think I'm crazy, Terence? Terence. Not if ye say *'Ye^/' darlin'! Kathleen. Why should I say *'Yes," Terry? Terence. Do ye mind what I was speakin' to ye about ? Kathleen. Whin was this? Terence. Yisterday ! Kathleen (puzzled). Yisterday! Thin, what's to- day? Terence. Sure, to-day is to-morry — no, no — I mane to-day is yisterday! (Comic irritation) What the divil do I mane anyhow? Ye 're havin' me as loony as ye are yourself ! Kathleen. Faith, Terry, I'm that mixed, I don't know what I'm sayin' — do ye? Terence (with a comic, knowing wink). I always know what I'm sayin' — I've a superior intilligence in me mind, and a wonderful brain — but not for thinkin ' ! Kathleen (looking at cloak on bench r.). There's me red cloak! that's rale! And there's me ring — (Ob- serving it on her fingers) That's rale! Terence. It is — I'll take it for safe keep in' — seein' ye are so onresponsible. (Taking the ring from her finger, dropping it in his pocket) Kathleen (looking at table l.). And there's the tay pot — (Xing to table) — where we had our tay, and a bit of a cake — where 's me father! (In comic alarm) Oh, Terry, where 's me father? I hope ye didn't stab him! (Turning to l. door quickly, opening door) Terence. He niver showed himself at the church this mornin' — and this Saint Patrick's Day! Kathleen (looking off l.). There he is — asleep! (O'Connor off l. snores — loud) Snorin'! Terence. 'Tis somethin' more than sleep that's afther houldin' him in a sweet embrace! (Imitating flask at his lips) 72 Kathleen Mavourneen Kathleen {a step toward c). I don't remember goin' to bed last night! Terence. Whin I went out, ye were on the bench there — {Indicating bench R. c.) — an' the last word ye said was, ' ' Good-night, Terry, darlin '. ' ' Kathleen {puzzled). "Good-night, Terry, darlin'!" On the bench — with me beautiful red cloak over me! {Ahmpt exclamation) Terry! (Terry gives a comic start at Iter exclamation) I know what it manes! I've been asleep ! Terence. Ye have — {Disgusted) I don't see any- thing very excitin ' in that ! Kathleen. I must have been dreamin'! {A hit Jiys- terical) Dreamin'! It w^as all a dream — ye didn't kill Rody — nor the Squire — and they didn 't hang ye ! Terence. They did not! Kathleen. A dream! thank the saints! It was a dream! Praise heaven! {Laughing hysterically. Ter- ence moves a step down r. hastily, looking at her in comic alaryn) Terence. That'll do — hould yer peace — don't be tryin' to act too loony! Kathleen {changing abruptly, to gentle tone). Terry, come here, lad! Are you afraid o' me? {Ex- tending her hands to him) I won't hurt ye (Terry, watching her closely, creeps forward, with comic effect) I'll niver harm ye, and it's not crazy I am Terence. I don't know — but I'll take ye anyhow. {An ai^m about her) There's no denyin', I wish ye'd lave off that foolishness! Kathleen. 'Twas an awful dream, and me own fault — goin' to sleep on the bench there, with the door open. I'll tell ye all about it. {Lookirig at him stead- ily) I don't think there ought to be any secrets between husband and wife. Terence. 0' coorse not — a wife should tell her hus- band everything, but a husband should be mighty care- Kathleen Mavourneen 73 ful what he mentions to his wife! {Winking know- ingly) Kathleen. Ye are not me husband yet, Terry. Terence. I'm goin' to be, Mavourneen. Kathleen {promptly). 0' coorse ye are. Terence. Well, thin, tell me the secret. Kathleen, 'Tis this — {Producing tlie letter of Act I from Iter pocket) This is a letter from the Squire. (Terence takes the letter, looking at it. Bird wJiistle ojf R.) I read it, and thin I went to sleep, and thin I had a dream Terence. 'Twas a nightmare, I'm thinkin'! But now ye are awake — 'tis the next morning, the beau- tiful day o' Saint Patrick — do ye hear the birds — do ye mind I towld ye I 'd come for me answer, darlin ' ! Kathleen. Ye have it — yes, Terry! {Offering Iter hand) Terence {taking her hand). Ah, that makes me heart bate like a pump! (Kathleen draws her hand aivay. Regarding letter) Accordin' to this, the Squire will come for his answer — we'll give it to him without keep- in' him waitin'! Kathleen {apprehensively). Promise me ye won't stab him! Terence. I'll talk to him like the gintleman I am — the future husband o' Kathleen O'Connor! {Stop bird whistle) Kathleen. I '11 be that ashamed to meet him. (Xing to R. in front of he^ich) But ye '11 let me keep me red cloak, Terry? {Picking up cloak and throwing it about her) Terence. If ye 're a mind, since it was a present from Miss Dorothy Kavanagh. ( (Xing to l. of c.) Kathleen. Miss Dorothy! Ah, but wasn't she mane to me — in me dream! I can niver realize it till I see thim walkin' about! 74 Kathleen Mavourneen ENTER Black Eody from r., pausing in tlie doorway. He is still tJie rough Irishynan, hut gentle and smiling. RoDY. The top o' the mornin' to ye, Miss Kathleen 'Connor. Kathleen {turning sliarply, displaying tlie old alarm). Oh, Rody! Ye 're not come to harm me? RoDY {looking at Tier in surprise). Harm ye? Didn't 1 know ye since ye were a little grasshopper so high? {Measuring) I wouldn't harm a hair o' your head? Is O'Connor about? I'll go look for him. {Singing a snatch of Irish song, he saunters off l., passing the win- dow) Kathleen. I hope I didn't hurt his feelin's! ENTER D. R. Bernard Kavanagh. His manner as it was in Act I. Kavanagh. Good morning, Miss Kathleen! {Ad- vancing a step to c.) Kathleen {staring at him). The Squire! Alive! The saints be praised — are ye — are ye well, your honor ? {Timidly advancing a step) Kavanagh. I never felt better in my life! {Light laugh) KatuIjEE^ {heartily). Oh! I 'm that glad to hear it I {She suddenly grasps his hand and wrings it heartily) Heaven bless ye for livin ' ! Terence {observing Kathleen). That'll do I'm thinkin' — enough is more thin a plinty! Kavanagh {to Kathleen). Thank you for your hearty greeting! Kathleen. You're mighty welcome. {Dropping his hand, retreating a step to R. c.) How is your sister? And how's Kitty? Kavanagh. Both well. {Glancing at Terence) This is Kathleen. Terry — don't ye know Terry? Kavanagh {to Kathleen). You remember I told you I would call this morning for my answer? Kathleen Mavourneen 75 Terence. Ye did, and I 'm her secretary, and answer all her letters. {Displaying the letter lie Jiolds) Kavanagh {somewliat disconcerted). Oh, indeed! I don't think you can answer tliis one. Kathleen. Go on, Terry — spake out — quick, before I have another fit. {An eccentric gesture) Kavanagh {turning quickly to Kathleen). Fit! are you subject to fits? Kathleen {quick, winking at Terence) . Oh, yis, yis ! Do ye want to see one? Kavanagh {quick alarm). No, indeed Kathleen. I go clean off me head ! Kavanagh {nervously) . Of course, if that's the case, the — the matter is ended. {Looking toward door up r.) Kathleen {a step forward). Ye don't care to marry a crazy woman, Squire? Kavanagh {fervently). No, indeed! Kathleen. Well, Terence does — he's not particular — a bit soft himself — about me — so we'll agree beauti- fully! Kavanagh {relieved). I am very glad to hear it, — very! {Grasping lier Jiand, sliaking it ivarmly) I can't tell you how glad I am! Terence. Tell me! Kavanagh {turning quickly to Terence, grasping Ms Jiand) I congratulate you! {Sliaking Ms liand in the same vigorous manner) I do, indeed! Terence. Thank ye! {With a vigorous wrench he frees his hand) I don't want to be too hard on ye, so if ye 're a mind, ye can give us a snug little farm — a few acres o' land will mane nothin' to ye — and we'd like a few cows, and a pig or two for good measure! Kathleen. Shame on ye, Terry! Kavanagh. You shall have them! {Laughing) Gad! I think I'm getting off easy! {Glancing at Kathleen, and, in coraic apprehension, retreating a step or two UP stage) Kathleen. Faith, ye don't know how lucky ye are! {Engaged in arranging the cloak about her, as she stands R. c. DOWN stage) 76 Kathleen Mavourneen Terence. I don't want ye to give us these things for nothin', Squire, so, if yell allow me, I'll present ye with this illegant diamond ring. {Advancing, drawing fhe ring from liis pocket and offering it to Kavanagh) It's a prisint for ye in return for the pigs and cows! Kavanagh. Thank you! {Taking ring) You are very generous. Terence. I can't help it — 'tis me Irish nature! ENTER Dorothy d. r. Dorothy. I thought I w^ould find you here, brother. {Advancing) Kathleen. Good mornin', ma'am! {Bowing to Dorothy) Dorothy (up stage, l. of Kavanagh). Kathleen! I expected to see you in church this morning, in your new cloak. Kathleen. Ah, ma'am, ye '11 see me there — be the side 0' Terry! {LaugJiing, indicating Terence l. c.) Dorothy. Indeed! {Lookirig at Terence) I am delighted to hear it — I shall send you a beautiful wed- ding present. Kathleen. Hear that, Terry. (ENTER Father Cassidy d. r.) Your Riverence Cassidy {mildly reproacliful) . I missed ye from the choir this mornin', Kathleen O'Connor. {Advancing a step DOWN R.) Ye must have been oversleeping yourself this fine day! Kathleen. Forgive me, Father, I '11 tell ye all about it whin I come to confession next Saturday. ENTER fi'om d. r., Kitty, carrying a small prayer hook. SJie comes in briskly, followed by Bill Button Cap. Kitty. Faith, your ladyship, ye left your prayer book in your pew! {Advancing to Dorothy, giving Tier prayer book) Bill. And I found it! Oh what a villain I am! Kathleen Mavourneen 77 (RoDY appears outside window c. looking in, till end. Bird wliistle off r.) Terence. Are ye wide awake now, Kathleen Mavourneen? (Advancing to c.) Kathleen. I am. {Advancing to Terry, addressing audience) And I want to give me friends a bit of ad- vice — if ye don't want the nightmare, don't iver go to bed with your shoes on! (Everybody laughs lightly. Music, *' Kathleen Mavourneen") CURTAIN FAUCES ▲ DOCTOR BY COTJBTESY ; OR, A JOLLY MIX UP Farce in Three Acts. Six Males, Five Females By Ullib Akeesteom Two Interior scenes. Costumes modern. Sly's father-in-law adopt! methods to force Siy into practice, with disaster to Sly throughout. Sly's wife is led by Florette to test Sly's fidelity by calling him in professionally. Sly allows Freddie to personate him, leading to com- plications in which every one gets mixed up. Flirtations of Sly before marriage also add to his perplexities, all of which are finally un- ravelled. The " situations " which follow each other in rapid suc- cession make this farce irresistibly comic. Plays two hours. PRICE 25 CENTS A PUZZLED DETECTIVE Farce in Three Acts. Five Males, Three Females By L. E. W. Snow Three Interior scenes. A letter inclosing money, abstracted hy a darkey who cannot read, causes Ned Walton, the detective, to get his client's affairs all muddled up, resulting in absurd situations, es- pecially when the darkey is supposed to be Walton in discuise. A needy doctor finds his daughter, a brother discovers his sister, and two girl chums become sisters-in-law to their great satisfaction, and the muddle is cleared up. Plays one hour. PRICE 15 CENTS THE EOOSIER SCHOOL Farce in One Act. Five Males, Five Females By Wm. and Josephine Giles One Interior scene. A realistic picture of a district school In a small Western village. The rough and ready teacher and his tricky scholars keep the audience in a roar. The teacher is finally squelched by the irate mother of one of his pupils. The piece is cleverly worked out and full of funny incidents. Plays thirty minutes. PRICE 15 CENTS MRS, FORRESTER'S CRUSADE Farce in One Act. One Male^ Two Females Br C. Leona Daley mple One Interior scene. Helen has written to Professor Butler, Inviting him to call to obtain her parents' consent to their engagement. Mrs. Forrester, her mother, also writes inviting hira, and requests his co- operation in her endeavor to cure Helen of her habit of using slang expressions. This letter was mislaid and not sent. He calls, and during the interview Mrs. Forrester crowds into her conversation all the atrocities of slang possible, to Helen's consternation and Butler's disgust. Finally, the missing letter accidentally turns up. Mrs. Forrester's attempts at slang are screamingly funny. Plays thirty minutes. PRICE 15 CENTS A LEGAL PUZZLE Faroe Comedy in Three Acts. Seven Males, Five Females By W. A. Tremaynb Three Interior scenes. Costumes modern. This play can be highly recommended, the scenes are easy, the dialogue brisk and snappy, and the action rapid. The parts are all good, being evenly divided, U* principals appearing in each act. Plays two and a half hours. PRICE 25 CENT» MILITARY PLAYS BY THE ENEMY'S HAND unitary Drama in Four Acts. Ten Males, Four Females Bt Gobdon V. May Three Interior scenes. The action takes place in a Western Mill'' tary Fort. The story of the play is absorbing in interest and its dialogue vigorous. The comedy parts are supplied by a quack doctor, a female temperance lecturer, and an Irish Corporal and his sweet- heart. Plays two hours. PRICE 25 CENTS EDWARDS, THE SPY Military Drama in Five Acts. Ten Males, Four Females Br Abthuk L. Bdzzell Scenery varied, but not difficult. A brilliant episode of the CivlJ War which fits it for the use of Grand Army Posts, as well as for those who desire a fine Military drama. Plays two and a half houra PRICE 25 CENTS THE PRISONER OF ANDERSONVILLE Military Comedy Drama in Four Acts. Ten Males, Three Female9 By Charles Walcott Russell One interior scene, three exterior, two of them closely similar. An excellent play for amateurs as all the parts are good and evenly divided. Five comedy parts make it lively enough for any audience. The leading parts are strongly drawn, yet easily handled. A play oi the Civil War that will arouse no ill-feeling North or South. Playa two hours. PRICE 25 CENTS CAPTAIN DICK Military Drama in Three Acts. Nine Males, 8i(P Females By Arthur L. Buzzell One Interior, one exterior scene. The rollicking blunders of as Irish sentinel, two darkeys, and two terrible girls evoke roars of laughter whenever they appear. Full of thrilling Incidents endiBg in a blaze of glory. Plays one and a half hours. PRICE 25 CENTS ISABEL, THE PEARL OF CUBA Military Melodrama in Four Acts. Nine Males, Three Females By Charles Townsbnd One exterior, three interior scenes. A brilliant melodrama full of excitement and «lramatic interest. Strong characters, thrilling slto- ations, and plenty of action. Plays two hours. PRICE 25 CENTS A LITTLE SAVAGE Military Comedy in Three Acts. Four Males, Four Females By Eleanor Maud Cranb One Interior scene. The action takes place in headquarters at Fortress Monroe, and abounds with dramatic situations while the climax is admirably worked out. Especially recommended. Playg two hours. WESTERN PLAYS ROCKY PORD Western Drama in Four Acts. Eight Males, Three Females. By Burton L. Spiller One exterior, two interior scenes. A strong and stirring play full Ot life and dramatic movement. Stage settings are very simplet and tlie climax artistically elective. Plays two liours. PRICE 25 CENTS THE STUBBORN MOTOR CAR Western Comedy Drama in Three Acts. Seven Males, Four Females Br Anthony E. Wills One interior scene. The motor car, not being seen, is consequently unnecessary. The interest in this play is unflagging. All the char- acters are good ones and each one appears in every act. Plays two and a half hours. PRICE 25 CENTS THE RED ROSETTE Western Drama in Three Acts. Six Males^ Three Females By Gordon V. May Two Interior and one exterior scenes. The story is full of interest, the incidents exciting, and the dialogue crisp. The play oflEers fine opportunities for character parts, and includes startling situations and a thrilling climax. Plays two hours. PRICE 25 CENTS GOLDEN GULCH Western Drama in Three Acts. Eleven Males^ Three Females By Charles Tovvnsend One Interior and one' exterior scene. The play combines vit, humor, sentiment, exciting situations, brisk movement, and good characters for all the participants. Plays two hours PRICK 25 CENTS MISS MOSHER OF COLORADO Wester-n Comedy Drama in Four Acts. Five Males, Three Females By a. S. Richardson Two exterior and one interior scene. In " character " parts the piece is quite admirable, and all of these are skillfujiy contrasted. The climaxes are effective, and the stage pictures pretty. It will prove a drawing card Plays two hours. PRICE 25 CENTS THE SHERIFF OF TUCKAHOE Western Sketch in One Act. Three MaleSj One Female By George M. Rosener One simple Interior scene. An intensely dramatic sketch of the tracing of a band of road-agents, one of whom is eventually captured by his half-brother, the sheriff, in the house of the mother. The mother's pleadings, unknown to her, induce the sheriff to release the suspect, he taking his half-brother's place as the criminal. The circumstantial evidence fails to be convincing, and consequently the sherlCE's self-sacrifice is not needed. All strong parts. Easily staged. Highly recommended. Plays about one hour. PRICE 25 CENTS MILITARY PLAYS 25 CENTS EACH M. F. BY THE ENEMY'S HAND. 4Acts; Shours 10 4 EDWARDS, THE SPY. 5 Acts; 2}^ hours 10 4 PRISONER OF ANDERSON VILLE. 4 Acts; 2J4 hours.. 10 4 CAPTAIN DICK. 3 Acts; IJ^ hours ..,. » 6 ISABEL, THE PEARL OF CUBA. 4 Acts; 2 hours •^ 3 LITTLE SAVAGE. 3 Acts; 2 hours; 1 Stage Setting 4 4 BY FORCE OF IMPULSE. (15 cents.) 5 Acts; 2}4 hours 9 3 BETWEEN TWO FIRES. 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(15 cents) 11 8 FITZGERALD PUBLISHING CORP'N, 18 Vesey St., N. Y. 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(15 cents.) 3 Acts; 2J4 hours. 9 3 FITZGERALD PUBLISHING CORP'N, IS Vescy St., N. Y. .S-n'vs:'vn;-v>S N :s.s:s:-ys?sr^r\-S:SN.'5^'Sr> M2Rf. 78 547 ' O tt o ' ^O