I s^ V V ^-^ 
 
 ,Z3 7H 3 3 
 
 A DREAM OF EMPIRE 
 
 *A DRAMA*^- 
 
 IN FIVE ACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 NOBODY-IN-PARTICULAR 
 
 /f^t,*»^/t. t-Vw 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO; j 
 
 FRANCIS, VALENTINE & CO. PRINTERS 5l7 CLAY STREET. I 
 
 1883. ! 
 
A DREAM OF EMPIRE 
 
 ^A DRAMA^ 
 
 IN FIVE ACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 NOBODY-IN-PARTICULAR. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO : 
 FRANCIS. VALENTINE & CO. PRINTERS 5.7 CLAY STREET. 
 
 1883. 
 

 '^ \^^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by 
 
 GEORGE A. RANKIN, ^^^^^ 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 TMP96-006d39 
 
TO ANY HUMBLE LOVER OF THIS COUNTRY, 
 
 WHO HAS A PIOUS HATRED FOR EVERY- 
 
 THING THAT SMACKS OF ROYALTY, 
 
 THIS PLAY IS DEDICATED. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSON.^. 
 
 General Mentor Brandon (afterward Ulysses I ). 
 
 Senator Clarence AVolford (afterward Lord Wolford, and Einperor^. 
 
 Senator McDonald, / ^^.^^^^^ ^^ Bmndon and Wolford. 
 
 Senator Maxwell, ) 
 
 Bandemer (afterward Duke of Erie). 
 
 Starlow (afterward Earl of California). 
 
 Wallace Minnard, 
 
 General Shelborn, | q^^^^^^^i, ^^ jj g^ ^ 
 
 General PLtsborough, ) -^ 
 
 A Captain. 
 
 An Admiral. 
 
 An Aid- de- Camp. 
 
 An Old Man. 
 
 Messengers, 
 
 Guards, 
 
 Servant. 
 
 Catherine Minnard (Wife of Walla^je Minnard). 
 
 Miriam Wolford (Wife of Clarence Wolford). 
 
 Leonora Minnard (Daughter of Wallace Minnard). 
 
 Alexander the Great, 
 
 Caesar, 
 
 Louis XIV., 
 
 Erederic the Great, 
 
 Peter the Great, 
 
 Napoleon L, 
 
 An Egyptian King, 
 
 Hannibal, 
 
 Washington, 
 
 Catherine II., 
 
 Cleopatra, 
 
 Neptune, 
 
 Mars, 
 
 Mercury, 
 
 Morpheus, 
 
 Oneiros, 
 
 Ikelos, 
 
 Phobetor, 
 
 Three Fatui. 
 
 Minerva, 
 
 Venus, 
 
 Themis, 
 
 Eirene, 
 
 Hestia, 
 
 Eortuna, 
 
 Fama, 
 
 Nymphs, 
 
 }- Apparitions in the Dream. 
 
 Appearing in the Dream. 
 
 ; 
 
 Ghosts of Woman and Child. 
 Ghosts of Man and Woman. 
 Ghost of Miriam Wolford. 
 
 Lords, Ladies, Conspirators, Officers, Soldiei-s and other attendants. 
 The date of the play is supposed to be 1884-5. 
 
A DREAM OF EMPIRE 
 
 ACT I, 
 
 Scene 1-^^ew Torh. A room in MinnarcVs House. Brandon in 
 room. 
 
 Brandon, This waiting, this uncertainty weighs heavily upon me, 
 -and I am overloaded with impatience. 0, I am sick and tired of it 
 -all, and wish it ended, or that it never had begun. Truly does he 
 who climbs the pinnacle of earth's dizzy heights take the trouble 
 with the honor. W hat crazy attribute of mind is that which makes 
 lis mount some towering rugged peak, 'midst glaciers and falling ava- 
 lanches, round the steep edges of high hanging cliflfs, suspended here 
 by treacherous heldings over a thousand feet of death, worn out, half 
 -dead, the summit reached— for what? To look down— nothing else. To 
 this no less a relative than a brother is that insane impulse M^hich drives 
 me, like a slave scourged by his master's lashes, to again attempt' the 
 ascent of the highest point on this great nation's honor. Twice have 
 I toiled to that stupendous height. Others have done the same. 
 Aye, there it is ; for 'tis a sickly ambition that rests contented even 
 balanced with another. And yet I never found an easy resting- 
 place on that high peak. Fool that I am, to again attempt the per- 
 ilous position ! Yet I would do it— yes, I would do it, though an 
 -earthquake shook it from its base, and all the thunders, lightnings 
 and storms of heaven and earth and hell were on its top turned 
 loose ! I am abashed at my eathusiasm* Quiet, my thoughts ! 
 Here Wolford comes at last. 
 
 Enter Clarence Wolford. 
 Oood evening, Wolford. I have been waiting for you for some 
 time. 
 
 Wol. Grood evening. General. I am sorry to have kept you 
 waiting, but it was not my idleness that did so. 
 
 Bra. I beg your pardon, Clarence, if in my voice there was the 
 slightest unkind accent. 
 
 Wol. Think not of that ; it was my own impatience. 
 
 Bra. 0, Wolford, you have done so much for me 
 
 Wol. Tut ! no more of that. I have just come from McDonald 
 and Maxwell. Brandon, if the Almighty ever made two uoble men 
 they are the twain. 
 
 Bra. Who with yourself do constitute the trinity. More of 
 manhood in them would have burst their mortal spheres. 
 
Wol. They are made up of the attributes which make men men. 
 
 Bra. Why, so they are. Si^ch attributes are not many, they 
 are rather rich. Supreme o'er all is the iron quality of friendship. 
 Possession of it makes a man a giant. No miser, libertine or traitor 
 ever had it. And next I think the character of bravery is most im- 
 portant. Still, these two attributes alone make but a soft and easy- 
 bending man ; but when they're tempered with cool, steady, clear- 
 eyed caution, the trinity of manhood is complete. 
 
 Wol. Ah I now I think thou hast been playing the maiden with 
 thyself before a mirror, that thou shouldst see so plainly the attri- 
 butes of true manhood. 
 
 B)^a. Eather I have been thinking of my three good friends — 
 yourself, McDonald, and brave, fearless Maxwell. But pardon me, 
 Wolford. You have come from the convention. What news bring 
 you? 
 
 Wol None that's too bad to tell, nor yet too good to keep. 
 
 Bra. Then tell me. 
 
 Wol. The situation is unchanged. As you might expect, your 
 friends stand by you in solid phalanx, while the mongrel curs that 
 form the opposition are broken into a score of howling packs. 
 
 Bra. I have no fear of the desertion of my followers, 1 never 
 yet betrayed a friend, nor had a friend betray me. 
 
 Wol. No. The fear is, that the opposition may unite. Those 
 half-bred puppies; those snarling, cowardly yellow dogs! W^hat 
 could they do in a great campaign, like that before us, with their 
 sniveling and driveling and sanctimonious hypocrisy 1 W^hat a. 
 heavenly lot they are, with their great calf-eyed looks! 
 
 Bra. Hold, Wolford! 1 fear yon are too severe on our enemies. 
 But Bradberry and his men? They showed signs of weakness 
 once; what are they doing now ? 
 
 Wol. Still against you. They form one pack, aixl their particu- 
 lar howl is: "Civil service reform!" I have no commanicatiom 
 with them. But Maxwell told me, when I left, that their disease 
 was not so serious as at hrst, and that a promise of a few fat offices 
 would cure their mania for reform and bring them over. 
 
 Bra. What answer made you to him ? 
 
 Wol. That if the worse came to the worse, to promise the dogs 
 what they wanted. 
 
 Bra. I do not like that! If I should be nominated and elected, 
 I would enter office weighed down with a lot of howling idiots. 
 
 Wol.' Nonsense 1 What signifies a promise made under such 
 circumstances ? It's like an agreement with a highwayman, to 
 return with more coin, provided he won't murder you outright. 
 
 Bra. But no man ever knew me to break a promise. 
 
 Wol. My good Brandon, have you made any promises ? 
 
 Bj-a. Did you not say you told Maxwell to promise them what 
 they wanted, which will be nothing short of a cabinet office ? 
 
 Wol. W^ell, yes, so I did ; but that w^as my agreement, not 
 your'e, nor was it made with your knowledge or consent. 
 
 Bra. He who accepts the benefit of an unauthorized agent's act 
 must assume the responsibility. Wolford, I will not have my 
 enemies for my counselors. 
 
]Vol. Well, sir, since your opposition is so pronounced, t pre* 
 BUme the promise can be withdrawn ^ 1 shall attend to it instantly. 
 [Takes his hat to go.] 
 
 Enter Servant, idth letter. 
 
 Ser. A letter for Mr. Wolford. {Exit Servant. ) 
 
 Wol. (Reading.) "Bradberry and his men came over under 
 promise of the Treasury, and Brandon was nominated on the three- 
 hundredth ballot, amid the most tremendous applause. The scene 
 is wild beyond description. Everybody crazy. Maxwell." Do you 
 hear that ? I congratulate you, Mr. President. 
 
 Bra. But, Wolford, it was the promise by which I succeeded. 
 
 Wol. To hell with the promise I It Was the poison which killed 
 the dogs. Success, not promises is the aim of life, and the means 
 to be employed are those which will effect the end. Success never 
 yet crowned human efforts by the use of means alone of which the 
 Bible would approve. 
 
 Bra. Ah 1 Wolford, how much I am your debtor. 
 
 Wol. (aside). Now will I play the hypocrite myself a little* 
 (Aloud) No, you are not my debtoi'. But if you are, here I for- 
 give the debt, and in the future I shall try to make you owe me 
 more; it is so pleasant to forgive. This only do I ask for pay, thafe 
 I may serve you better. 
 
 Bra. It Were far better that I were your servant. But, Wol- 
 ford, fate may place me in a position where I shall need a helper, 
 greater far than I. Such you shall be, Clarence, if you will. Thou 
 art my genius, my bright star, my sun by which alone I shine. 
 Freely do I confess it— when thou art gone, then am I black 
 nothingness. 
 
 Wol. (aside). Then shall I cease to be your sun right quickly. 
 (Aloud) Brandon, if thou art my friend, never again make mention 
 of my services to thee. Love is a term which ill defines the feelings 
 of man for man. It is a womanish Word, and my attachment for 
 thee is of a stronger, deeper and more lasting kind. From it 
 springs all that I have ever done, or shall do for thee. 'Tis natural as 
 nature. I neither make it, nor if I would, could I unmake it ; nor 
 claim I credit for it. So let it rest, a theme for silent thought, not 
 speech. Now to other business, Mr. President - 
 
 Bra. Not so soon, Mr. President. The tree has only bloomed. 
 E'er the fruit's gathered it must go through fierce storms and stand 
 the stings of small yet venomous insects. A hard battle is before 
 us. 
 
 Wol. In which millions will rally to the standard of the man 
 who carried the stars and stripes through the fire and tempest of 
 rebellion, made every man in America a freeman, and saved the 
 Nation's houur unspotted. 
 
 Enter McDonald and Maxwell. 
 
 Hail, Senators! You should have garlands on your brows. 
 
 McD. Good evening. General; the fight is over and the battle's 
 Won. 
 
 Bra. Did ever man have three such friends as these ? 
 
Enter MiNNARD, Randemer, Starlow, General Shelborn and 
 others. 
 
 Min. All our congratulations, General. The great news hag 
 I'eached the street, and in every mouth there is but one word and 
 that is Brandon. [They gather around Brandon and congratulate 
 him.] 
 
 Ban. Success is now assured. 
 
 Star, (to Ran. ) I pledge a million to his election. 
 
 Ban. (to Star, and Gen. Shel.) And I, double that amount to 
 keep him President forever! 
 
 S/iel. Tut! That sounds like treason, Randemer, 
 
 Ban. Well, G eneral, call it what you may — ^treason or patriotism 
 —it's what I'm in for. 
 
 Shel. It's what cuts men's heads ofiF, too. 
 
 Ran. (to Shel. and Star.) The day for cutting men's heads off 
 is passed. We need a man at the head of this great government 
 who ^vill give stability to it; who will put down communism and 
 keep it down, too, and who will protect our property from rabbles. 
 Brandon's the man. 
 
 [ While Randemer, Shelborn and Starlow have moved to one part 
 of the stage, Maxwell, McDonald and Wolford have moved to an- 
 other. ] 
 
 3fax. (to Wolford). How did he take the promise to Bradberry ? 
 
 Wol. He didn't like it; or, at any rate, pretended not to. 
 
 AIcD. Well, it was our last chance. The next ballot would have 
 nominated the Half-breed. 
 
 Min. [Passing over to Mc, Max. and WoL] Welcome, Sena- 
 tors, to my house! You have accomplished a grand work to-day! 
 Enter Catuerine Minnard, Leonora, and other ladies. 
 
 Cath. If there should need a pardon for our interruption — not 
 to say, intrusion — ^let it be woman's curiosity. What means this 
 look of joy on each man's face, if not that our great friend is nomi- 
 nated ? 
 
 Min. Truly has Woman's curiosity been answered by woman's 
 intuition. Rightly judged, my dear; the General has been nomi- 
 nated. 
 
 Cath. And a dozen pretty speeches made to him, already! ^\Tiat 
 is there left for me to say ? Well, General, I will assume to merit 
 of them all, and so tender my congratulations. 
 
 Bra. I thank you, madam. 
 
 [McD. a}id Max. have moved away from Wol. ^o Bra. Cath. 
 moves over to Wol., and other ladies and gentlemen remain about 
 Brandon, conversing witJi him.] 
 
 Cath. (To Wol. ) Good evening. Senator. How glad I am to see 
 you. 
 
 Wol. Thank you, Catherine. You look a queen to-night. 
 
 Cath. There is but one thing mars my happiness. 
 Wol. And were it possible I could remove it, what would I not 
 do? 
 
 Cath. Did you mean by that that I should teU you what it is ? 
 Wol. If so it please you, I shall gladly listen, Catherine. 
 
9 
 
 Cath. I have heard it said that, at great intervals of time, Dame 
 Nature giveth birth to a great man in each particular line of human 
 calling; then resteth. If such be true, there is one here who is her 
 last great gift of statesmen; one far more fit to be a ruler than any 
 king that ever graced a throne. 
 
 Wol. Know you such a man ? Your description fits none of my 
 acquaintan ces. 
 
 Oath. The modesty of true greatness never lets it know itself. 
 
 Wol. Ah, Catherine, such great flattery is cruelty! 
 
 Cath. Nay, Clarence; when thou art in my mind my tongue is 
 but the instrument of honest thoughts. Brandon will be President. 
 It should be thee! He may be great; but thou, thou art supreme. 
 
 Wol. 0, that I could find words to tell thee of my deep devotion 
 to thee, Catherine! But list! I fear we shall attract attention. 
 Change the subject. 
 
 Cath. Thy subject shall be mine as I thy subject am. 
 
 Wol. Then tell me, madam, who is that pretty young lady over 
 there — she with the face all suifused with modest blushes ? 
 
 Cath. Do you not know my daughter. Senator— my daughter 
 Nora ? Now I think, you have not seen her for some years. She 
 has been away at school and in that time mayhaps she has escaped 
 your memory. 
 
 Wol. Now I remember her. I knew her when she was a little 
 girl, but she has quite outgrown my recollection. She is very 
 pretty. May I not have the pleasure of her acquaintance ? 
 
 Cath. Certainly. She is only little past sixteen and scarce has 
 put aside her childish ways. Being her mother I would repress my 
 thoughts to one less dear, but to you I'll say she is the sweetest 
 and most confiding girl I ever knew. 
 
 Wol. And one more lovely never filled my eyes. She is worthy 
 such a mother. 
 
 Cath. Nora, dear, come here. [Nora crosses to Catharine and 
 Wolford. 1 Nora, this is Senator Wolford. 
 
 Nora. I am proud to meet one whom the nation so much de- 
 lights to honor. 
 
 Cath. After this hard day's work perhaps our friends would not 
 refuse a little luncheon. 
 
 Mill. A good idea. Without more ceremony let us find it. 
 
 [Exeunt all excex)t Wolford and Nora. 
 
 Wol. [Taking Nora's hand. ] Stay a little, my young friend, and 
 let me tell you how keenly I feel the pleasure of your acquaintance. 
 You are so pure and innocent, so unspotted by the sins of this great 
 world. 0, Leonora, if I could only live forever in so pure a pres- 
 ence ! 
 
 Nora. But is it so, that this is such a bad, bad world ? To me 
 it has ever been a very, very bright and good one. I never yet 
 have known what sorrow is. 
 
 Wol. Your path has been all roses ; you have never known the 
 thorny side of life. 
 
 Nora. Oh ! no, sir, not from my earliest infancy. In my little 
 childhood days I never felt a greater sorrow than that occasioned by 
 
10 
 
 the breaking of a doll ; and well I remember how quickly even 
 that was changed to joy when papa came and kissed away the tear 
 and brought me a better doll. For my teacher, till I came to girl- 
 hood, I had the sweetest lady in the world— my mamma. How I 
 love her! 0, sir, you can never know how good and kind and 
 gentle mamma is ! And then I went to the Convent of Saint Jo- 
 sephine, where mamma came frequently to visit me, and now I have 
 returned to find myself in a flowery kingdom of love and gentle 
 kindness. 
 
 Wol. And you have grown up to be the sweetest flower in all 
 this flowery kingdom. 
 
 Nora. 0, Senator ! I fear you flatter me. 
 
 Wol. No, no, my little Nora. To flatter is a thing that I am 
 never guilty of. If I spoke plainly and enthusiastically, it was be- 
 cause the purity of your life and your beauty so bade me speak. 
 
 Nora. (Aside.) I wonder if this is but common talk. How 
 wonderfully this great man impresses me ! 
 
 Wol. (Aside.) Did ever any one see such innocence I (Aloud.) 
 Gentle, loving Leonora, let me give thee my best wishes. May thy 
 pathway be all roses, 'till the end of life. May thy beauty grow 
 each day, and none but friends about thee be. 
 
 Nora. Oh, sir ! oh, oh, sir ! How good you are to wish me all 
 this happiness. What may I wish you in return ? What do you 
 most want ? To be Pi-esident ? 
 
 Wol. What do I most want, little one ? To be President ? No. 
 You have it in your power to give me what I most wish for. Will 
 you do it ? 
 
 Nora. I, Senator ? Why, I would give you anything in my 
 power. 
 
 Wol. It is your friendship, Nora — the friendship of a pure, inno- 
 cent girl. Will you give it ? 
 
 Nora. Yes, gladly. 
 
 Wol. Swear it. Hold up your right hand. You do solemnly 
 swear that you will always be my friend. (Kisses her forehead.) 
 The bargain is sealed. We will be friends forever. Now let us go 
 to luncheon. [Exeunt.] 
 
 Scene 2. — The Same. A street in front of a Hotel. A crowd of 
 Citizens calling for Brandon. A band playing. The city illuini- 
 nated. 
 
 Enter Brandon on balcony, tvhen three cheers are given by citizms. 
 Bra. My Fellow Countrymen : I should be little short of 
 dumb, if I were to suppose for one moment that this homage was 
 paid to me. I know full well that it is not me, as a man, you so 
 much honor, but the President-elect of the greatest country the sun 
 of heaven ever shown upon. [Applause and cheers. ] I never made 
 a speech in my life and could hardly begin now. So I will only say, 
 I am profoundly grateful to you all for the confidence you have 
 shown in me, in selecting me your President. And I promise you, 
 one and all, that you shall never have cause to regret it. With 
 this much I bid you all good-night. [Lcud cheers and music] 
 
 [Exeunt. ] 
 
11 
 
 Enter Wolpord, Maxwell and McDonald. 
 
 Wol. Was ever such enthusia-sm seen before, for any President? 
 
 Max. Why, the countiy has gone wild over him. 
 
 McD. No better time than this will ever come, 
 
 Wol. His vote was all but unanimous. 
 
 Max. Every return, as it comes in, increases his majority, 
 
 McD. [to WaL] You broached the subject to Kandemer and 
 .Minnard ? 
 
 Wol. Yes, and they are all panting for it. 
 
 M<vx. I spoke to Stanlow, or rather, after the first suggestion he 
 <did the speaking. 
 
 Wol. Oh, you can depend on all of that class. And I honestly 
 believe the country want-s him. We must have General Shelborn 
 and the army. In any coup d'etat we need the army. 
 
 Max. Leave that to me. We are particular friends. Ambition 
 cuts no small part in his make up, conceal it as he may. 
 
 Wol. Well, be with me to-morrow evening, for you know we 
 banquet Brandon at my house. Then we'll see what sort of stuflF 
 the old fellow's made of. Till, then, good-night 
 
 [Exeunt.'] 
 
 Scenes — The same. A room in WolforcVslwuse. ^n^er Wolford. 
 
 Brandon is elected. The Half-breed scavengers are dead. That 
 is consolation enough, but I mean more. What, Wolford, hast 
 thou labored all thy life for this ? Was it for this that thou wert 
 born with genius ? Was it for this that thou hast spent thy life in 
 study ? To be a dog following thy master, or a dull ass to pack 
 him ? To be the slave carrying one man to fame, but to return and 
 fetch another ? If so, thou hadst better take on the hide and hair 
 of the beast thou art, and no longer wear the garb of man! No, 
 Wolford, thou shalt no longer play the underling to any man. Now 
 is thy time. That attribute which men lack most to make them 
 great, is the ability to seize the opportunity, and make the time 
 their own. But steady! Have thy wits about thee, for they are thy 
 army. Train them well. Great Brandon, Walford made thee Pres- 
 ident! Behold! he will be generous. He will m.ake thee Emperor. 
 But thou dull, stupid, honest ox, whilst thou dost climb to glory 
 Wolford will be thy rider. The rabble j^ells for thee. It only stares 
 when Wolford passes; and therein lies thy usefulness; "for, when the 
 key's examined, all these shouts for Brandon are translated cries 
 for Wolford. And those coin-handlers, stock-jobbers, grand larcency 
 thieves, or, lest I might offend their graces, those money kings and 
 railroad barons, shall ail be my most chosen burglars to help pry 
 open the hidden empire. They would make Brandon King that 
 they might have their property secure. For the same reason they 
 shall make Wolford King. And tliy tine prancing fiery steeds, good 
 Maxwell and McDonald, shall have their uses, too. What, ho! 
 Hitch up the caravan! Fall in, asses; be yoked up, oxen; gallant 
 horses; poor fools; put in a few locomotives! Now, Wolford, get 
 thee in thy chariot; take up the reins. Go on, you motley team, and 
 carry Wolford up the road to fame! This night the work shall be 
 
12 
 
 begun that ends in giving thee a throne. Qniet — here come my vis- 
 itors. 
 
 Enter McDonald, Maxwell, Eandemer, Minnard, Stablow, 
 Gen. Shelborn and others. 
 
 Good evening, gentlemen. It makes me happy to see yon at my 
 house after the stormy battle is so pleasantly ended. 
 
 McD. And we are no less glad to meet with one who, more thaB 
 any other, brought about this great vietory. 
 
 [Ran. and Star, move to one side of stage, while the rest remain 
 conversing icith Wolford.] 
 
 Ran. (to Star. ) Why not speak out your mind freely and plain- 
 ly ? I think I know the meaning that lies hidden beneath your 
 half -spoken words. 
 
 Star, (to Ran.) Who made this country what it is? Who but 
 we whose energy, brains and money, and money, I say, have dug 
 canals, built railroads — 
 
 Ban. And made the desert to blossom like the rose. 
 
 Star. Why, but for us, it would have lain for centuries a howl- 
 ing wilderness. 
 
 Ran. And the Pacific and Atlantic been six months instead of 
 only one short week apart. 
 
 Star. We pay all the taxes to support the Government, or nearly 
 so. 
 
 Ran. Then why should not the Government be ours, since we 
 made it and support it ? 
 
 Star. A.nd then, to think that after all we've done to build up 
 this country, we are so repaid! Randemer, sometimes when I think 
 of all I have done for me country, and then how she has repaid me, 
 it almost makes these old eyes weep! 
 
 Ran. Repaid! Repaid! Why, damn me, sir, the only pay we 
 ever get is to be howled at by every mob that gets together, and 
 hounded down by a mean, contemptible press, that has to be subsi- 
 dized and bought to silence! 
 
 Star. And then these legislatures! They are continually ham- 
 pering us with laws, or threats of laws regulating our tariff, and 
 interfering with us in a thousand ways, until we buy them up, 
 iDody and soul. There's no end to their danmed blackmailing 
 schemes! 
 
 Ran. Starlow, it requires no very great foresight to see that at 
 no distant day they will seek to confiscate our property— rob us of 
 our hard-earned treasures. 
 
 WoL (apart to Max. ) Is Shelborn all right ? 
 
 Max. It took all day to bring him over, but now he's the war • 
 est advocate of our cause. Do you notice Starlow and Randemer ? 
 
 Wol. Yes; they are attracting the attention of everybody. I 
 tell you. Maxwell, they are good royalists. 
 Star. I tell you, Randemer, I am tired of it. 
 Ran. And so am I. Why, this verj^^ year it cost us millions to 
 elect our man. The country was made drunk with our coin. 
 Star. Why not end it now ? 
 
13 
 
 Ran You speak my thoughts. It must end some time, or we are 
 ruintju. 
 
 Star, A better time than this will never come. We are in 
 power. At our head is a man of iron nerve, who never was de- 
 feated. A regular Bismarck. 
 
 Ran. His tremendous popular majority foreshadows his success 
 in another direction. 
 
 Star. The time is ripe. 
 
 Wol. What did I hear you say, Starlow ? The time is ripe ? 
 For what is the time ripe ? 
 
 Star. 'M — what were we talking about, Eandemer ? 
 
 Ran. I think you must have misunderstood my friend. Senator. 
 Were we not talking about corn being ripe ? 
 
 Star. 'M — yes, so we were. The com on the great plains. It 
 is ready for shipment. 
 
 Wol. Bah ! the corn was ripe two months ago. Gentlemen— 
 my lords, shall I say ? How finely that sounds. My Lord of Cali- 
 fornia or the Duke of Ei'ie, if you would prefer it. 
 
 Star. Senator, you joke in a hard way. 
 
 Wol. Come, srs, the day was when to think or talk treason was 
 treason, but treason is only treason nov/ when it arises to the dig- 
 nity of overt acta: 
 
 McD. Did I not hear some one speak of treason over here ? 
 
 Max. Did I not hear some one say, my lord ? 
 
 Min. If my ears deceived me not, I heard the name of Duke of 
 Erie addressed to one who is or ofttimes has been called a baron. 
 
 Slid. And I hardly think the theme nor yet the titles fall 
 unpleasantly upon the ears of any who heard. 
 
 Star. Little did I think when Randemer and I were talking that 
 our thoughts found harmony with so many. 
 
 Wol. It is a little strange that each man coming here to-ni^ht 
 should have brought a mind burdened with the same weighty 
 thought. 
 
 Kan. Yet it seems true, 
 
 Wol. To speak it plainly — if there is one here present who does 
 not want to see a change of government — in fact, to see the Presi- 
 dent elect President forever — or Emperor, if it please you — let him 
 say nay, 
 
 Min. None speak. Why, if we all came here thinking the 
 same thing, and only a chance gave utterance to our thoughts, who 
 knows but millions in this great country may think as we do ? 
 
 Wol. And thinking so will gladly act when a bold leader speaks 
 to them. 
 
 Star. But hold you gentlemen, my lords, without a head a body 
 is a useless thing. We are the trunks, Brandon the head of this 
 great enteqsrise, and ere the body moves, the head must lirst con- 
 sent. 
 
 Ran. Is there one here so bold as to approach him with this sub- 
 ject ? Wolford, you are his friend, and, if I mistake not, close 
 wrapped up with him. What sey you ? 
 
 Wol. Let me waylay your fears. Not thrice in all the history 
 
u 
 
 o! tlie World has mortal man refused a proffered crown! Ambition 
 is the motive power that moves the world. .To wear a crown or 
 even a noble's garb, hundreds have placed their heads within the 
 hangman's noose, or on the fatal block. But why does the Presi- 
 dent not come ? 
 
 Shel. I should have told you, Wolford, that, wdien I left the 
 General this evening, he said he would be here at ten. But to the 
 point. How shall we carry our great enterprise to him who shall 
 be Emperor ? 
 
 Min. Let me suggest a way. This very night the close of the 
 banquet I will pi'opose a toast, "The future of our President-elect," 
 and I will mark you (to Wol. ) Senator —Senator yet a little while— 
 to make response. And therein you shall speak gently, only refer 
 to the less greater heads that wear golden crowns beset with dia- 
 monds, and rule the destinies of nations. I have no words like 
 yours. Senators; you will arrange the style. Then speak how grace- 
 fully such a crown would rest upon America's most illustrious son. 
 At this let each applaud, and all look straight at the great worrior, 
 and, if I lie not, beneath those stoic features will be seen a blush of 
 pleasure that would make pale the red cheeks of a new-made bride. 
 The 196 thus broken, let each man say his say. 
 
 Shel. The plan's a good one. 
 
 }\ ol. I would I had more time to make me ready in; but I will 
 do my best. 'Tis Init a moment now 'till ten. Let us receive the 
 coming monarch in the banquet-room. 
 
 Ran. Caution our motto. 
 
 McD. That's a wise remark. {Exeunt'\ 
 
 SoKNE 4. — The same. A banquet room. Seated around the table, 
 Brandon, Wolford, McDonald, Maxwell, Minnard, Kan- 
 DEMER, Starlow, Shelborn and others. 
 Min. Before this joyous festival, in honor of our most distin- 
 guished friend, dissolves, I would projiose a toast, nominating as I 
 do so Senator Wolford as respondent. "The Future of our Presi- 
 dent-elect." 
 
 Wol. The subject is a great one, and on that account I should 
 have known the toast before, that I might have made greater pre- 
 paration to do the subject justice. Often set sjjeeches are decep- 
 tive, being coined, as counterfeiters make base money, at dead of 
 night, while the unprepared speech is the true outpouring of the 
 soul, and so I speak on this occasion. [To Brandon]: Thy trium- 
 phal march from boyhood to the present, through battles that have 
 shook the earth, through all degrees of honor which a devoted 
 nation could confer upon thee, speaks like a thunder-blast from 
 heaven, that the Great Ruler of the Universe has given thee special 
 guidance. Of thy past I speak not, save as it is the mirror of thy 
 future. If it has thus been heaven's will that thou shouldst grow 
 each year in greatness, what power is there which saith to thee 
 now, " Hold ! Here must thou pause ! " Could Nature have in- 
 tended that in the rich luxuriance of thy manhood, thou shouldst 
 stop, stand still, decay and rot ? May not thy future have for thee 
 
15 
 
 a greater greatness than thy past ? O, if my soul with a prophetic 
 power were endowed, methiuks that I coukl see a vision equalled 
 alone by that which Moses saw upon the shores of Jordan ! Not 
 long ago I journeyed through the old monarchies of Europe, and I 
 beheld in all their glory the rulers of those great countries. As I 
 looked on them, clad in their statelyfuniforms, surrounded by their 
 royal splendor, I could not help but draw comparisons between 
 them and an American I knew — an honest, sober, unambitious citi* 
 zen, but one of God's true noblemen, and each time I thought, how 
 better far than they would be become those most majestic places. 
 My mind dwelt upon the subject, and still I thought, if in my 
 country, ever mortal man should wear a crown it should be Bran- 
 don. [Applause. Brandon attempts to rise, but sits down in con- 
 fusion.] Another thing I noticed there: the hard-earned property 
 of the rich v/as well protected, while those whom God made poor 
 were happier in their poverty. If ought that I have said fore- 
 shadows the future of our President-elect, I shall be happy. This 
 is my heart unbosomed. [Applause.] 
 
 Bra. Oh ! my friends, ye know not — 
 
 McD. Nay, they are my thoughts too. 
 
 Bra. Oh ! friends— 
 
 Max. And mine. 
 
 Bra. Hear me. 
 
 All. And mine. (All rise.) 
 
 [Curtain.) 
 
 ACT IL 
 
 Scene 1 — New York A parlor hi Minnard's 
 Enter Catherine Minnard. 
 
 I must not think ! Yet, when the most I say I must not, then do 
 I think the most. If I could only tear out memory from my brain 1 
 Oh, thou accursed attribute, that makes me live in a gallery of all 
 my sins ! Remembering kills me. 0, God, why didst thou make 
 us mortals as we are ? Strike thou love from woman's heart, then 
 will we all be good. Fain would my mind beg great excuses for my 
 heart. Catherine, this trifling with thyself will never do. Out I 
 thou stinging viper ! Away from me ! I have use for sterner qual- 
 ities to-day than weak, meddling conscience. Clarence, thou shalt 
 soon be here. 0, wert thou born of woman, or did'st Venus with 
 great Jupiter conceive thee. Gods ! how I worship thee, Clarence I 
 Great Nature made thee for me. Else, why this bursting heart ? 
 And why this mind, that thinks but of thee ? And why this soul 
 that would give heaven for thee V Why this great gravitation to 
 thee, mighty as that which holds a planet to the sun ? Wilt thou 
 never come ! (Goes to the window. ) W^hat demon drove me here 
 to see my gentle, tender Leonora ? 0, now my weaker nature over* 
 
16 
 
 comes me ! Shall I see her ? Yes, once again, before my heart 
 turns iron, and my blood to poison. Nora ! 
 
 Nora. (From without.) Yes, mother. 
 
 Catli. Mother ! How strangely she answers. She were wont to 
 call.'iie Mamma. 'Tis but a fancy of my armed imagination. 
 
 Enter Nora. 
 
 Dearest daughter ! (Holds out her arms. ) 
 
 Nora. (Embracing Catherine.) Did every daughter have a 
 mother so good and pure and true as mine, how happy all this world 
 would be ! 
 
 Cath. Do you love me, Nora ? 
 
 Nora. Do 1 love thee, mother ? Why, how strangely you speak 
 and act! How thy hand trembles! Art thou not well, mamma? 
 
 Cath. Wilt thou always love me, Nora ?— always ? always ? 
 
 Nora. Dearest mamma, if thou couldst only look into my heart 
 and see how much I love thee, thou wouldst never ask. What 
 makes thee ask me, mamma ? 
 
 Cath. I know you love me, darling; there — -kiss me now. 
 
 Nora. But, mamma, I fea* you are not happy. Will you not tell 
 your Nora what it is ? 
 
 Cath. 'Tis nothing, child. Art thou happy, Nora ? — ■ quite, 
 quite happy ? 
 
 Nora. Why do you ask such questions, mother? 
 
 Cath. Because, my darling, I thought of late you rather tried to 
 avoid me. You seldom came to kiss me; and when I looked at you, 
 your eyes so quickly sought some other resting-place. (Aside) — • 
 Perhaps it was my own dared not look straight! 
 
 Nora. Why, mother! (in confusion). 
 
 Cath. Nay, darling; hast thou seen some lover, tall and strong, 
 with brown locks hanging o'er his noble forehead, and eyes that 
 could look love itself? (Nora weeps.) (Aside.) Ah! now I think I 
 have described my own Clarence. (Aloud.) Wliy, 1 should not 
 have spoken so, my gentle child. Thy heart is far too tender. For- 
 give me. There, I meant nothing, dear. I know thou wilt jkever 
 have a lover but thou wilt tell thy mamma first. Go, now, my child. 
 (Kisses Nora.) {Exit Nora. 
 
 (Catherine falls on her knees. ) 0, if my miserable soul can but 
 approach Thy throne, my prayer is, God of goodness, guide thou 
 the feet of my darling child! 
 
 Enter Wolford. 
 
 Wol. What, Catherine, are you not well? You look so pale 
 and your cheeks are tear-stained! 
 
 Cath. 0, Clarence, when thou art from me I cannot help but 
 grieve thy absence. Behold! these eyes have wept for thee; but 
 now, since thou art come, they weep no more, unless it be for joy. 
 
 Wol. Some day this cloud, that now obscures our sun, shall melt 
 away. 
 
 Cath. 0, that that happy day should come ere long! 
 
 Wol. And so it shall, sweet Catherine. 
 
 i 
 
17 
 
 Oath. Is it a crime tliat I should love thee ? Nay, wait not fol' 
 thy reason to answer ; say no, quickly. 
 
 Wol. The suddenness of thy question startled me. Is it wrong 
 for the warm sun to shine upon the cold earth, giving it life ? Is it 
 a crime for the gentle rain to keep the tree from dying ? When 
 thou slialt answer me yes, to these questions, then will I say thy 
 love for me is wrong. 
 
 Cath. Dear Clarence, I thank thee for thy answer. I shall live 
 upon it. Canst thou doubt my love ? 
 
 Wol. Not though my life) depended on it. 
 
 Cath, O would it did, that I might save it by itl 
 
 Wol. Sweet Catherine ! 
 
 Cath. Hast thou a trust unlimited in me ? 
 
 Wol. Aye, that I have, my love ; but why these questions 1 
 Canst thou doubt me ? 
 
 Cath. 0, awful thought ! Doubt thee ? Doubt thee, Clarence ? 
 To doubt thee were to die ; to die a thousand deaths upon each 
 doubt. 0, flee, unworthy thought ! I asked thee these that 1 might 
 ask thee one more question. 
 
 Wol. Let me but know thy question and thou shalt have my 
 answer. 
 
 Cath. Then tell me, Clarence, what mighty matters bears upon 
 thy mind ? 
 
 WoL Why, nothing save the ordinary affairs of life. 
 
 Cath. Nay; now you neither love nor trust me. The cares of 
 life have long existed, but not so thy humor. In times gone by, in 
 good society, thou wert an entertainer of the whole company; but 
 now thou standest with brows drawn down, into a deep, black 
 frown, and stare for long, long moments into the fire or still more 
 empty space ; and when disturbed by those who craved thy com- 
 pany, thou wert startled as a dreamer from his sleep, looked much 
 annoyed and thanked them not for their kindly interruption. 
 
 WoL Perhaps my inattentions to the graces of good breeding 
 were caused by some momentous argument in course of pi-eparation, 
 lingering in my mind after the cares of the day should have been 
 forgotten. 
 
 Cath. Have arguments become so all important lately ? 
 
 Wol. I have thought much of thee. 
 
 Cath. But I have observed thy strange manners even when we were 
 alone. Thy mind seemed fled its house and occupying some foreign 
 castle, holding it a close prisoner. Oh, Clarence, put me not off 
 with vain excuses. Trust me, oh, trust me! I will never prove 
 thee false. Dost thou fear me ? Has not my woman's heart con- 
 vinced thee, that for Catherine there is but one in all this world t 
 But trust me, and I will be as guarded of thy secret, as a lioness of 
 her young. And thou shalt never ask my help but that my life — ' 
 my very soul — -shall be at thy command. 
 
 Wol. Oh, noblest woman that e'er took on a mortal garb ; fit 
 queen for any king that ever lived; my own true darling, Catherine, 
 to thee will I confide my secret, trusting thee as I would a goddess. 
 
 Cath. My noble-hearted Clarence! 
 
18 
 
 Wot. I will be brief. Thou knowest Brandon is President ? 
 
 Catk. I know it should be thee instead of Brandon. 
 
 Wol. Yet is he not contented. His soul soars like the eagle. 
 
 Cath. What wants he else ? 
 
 Wol. To be a king. 
 
 Cath. There is but one right royal head in all this land? 
 
 Wol. And we have formed a deep Gonspii'acy to crown it. 
 
 Cath. Crown Brandon king ? You ? 
 
 Wol. Look not so startled, Catherine. That is our plan. 
 
 Cath. In all the over-bursting books of history there's not a 
 traitor half so great as thou art. The meanest traitor therein men- 
 tioned is a patriot by thy side* 
 
 Wol. Why reproach me, Catherine ? 
 
 Cath. That thou shouldst be so foul a traitor. 
 
 Wol. Hist, woman! Look how you speak! Oh, what a fool 1 
 Was to tell you! Love makes men idiots; and, for women, empires 
 have been thrown away, kingdoms scattered to the winds, and now 
 another stately edifice fall from the same cause. From what thoU 
 say'st I would suppose thou wert a spy, set upon me by my enemies, 
 to extort this secret from me, using my love and thy pretended love 
 for me as mediums for the accomplishment of thy base ends; or else 
 thou hast no conception of our mighty enterprise. 
 
 Cath. So do I like to hear thee speak, for now I know thou art 
 not dead. Before I thought thou hadst turned a worm — -a, very grub. 
 Still thou art a traitor— a traitor to thyself. 
 
 Wol. If there is any meaning in your words, I understand it not. 
 
 Cath. Dear Wolford, let me then inform thee. Thou takest up 
 arms to make him King, who should be King thyself ; therefore thou 
 dost rebel against thyself, and thus thou art a traitor to thyself. 
 
 Wol. Your speech is still but little short of riddle. 
 
 Cath. Then let me solve it for thee. I may infer, from what 
 you say, that there is a conspiracy on foot to make Brandon Em- 
 peror of this far-famed land ? 
 
 Wol. Well ? 
 
 Cath. And you are one of the conspirators ? 
 
 Wol. Well ? 
 
 Cath. To make Brandon Emperor ; and you— >you shall be his 
 lieutenant ; mayhap, if you are good you might be minister, or at 
 least you will be my lord chamberlain and janitor of His Boyal 
 Majesty's private chambers ! 
 
 Wol. Oh, Catherine, you ridicule our project. 
 
 Cath. Or, if those high positions be occupied by more fortunate 
 courtiers for royal faVor, you might, by begging it, be master of the 
 hounds ! 
 
 Wol. Tut, woman ! 
 
 Cath. Or else, perhaps, be tutor to his children, and slapped in 
 the face occasionally by a young prince. 
 
 Wol. If you continue, Catherine, I will swear you do not love 
 me. 
 
 Cath. And if you continue, Clarence, I will swear I do not love 
 thee — yea, moi-e, that I hate, despise, detest thee ! 
 
 Wol. What, woman I has it come to this ? 
 
19 
 
 Cath. So say I — has it come to this, that thou, great Wolforcl, upOH 
 whom Nature spent her choicest labors to form and robe and deck 
 thee with all the god-like attributes of a sovereign, should play the 
 underling to any mortal man ? Ob, forgive me, Clarence, if mine 
 enthusiasm has enci'oached upon my love ; it was my love that made 
 it do it. I would see thee Emperor— not Brandon ; and so thou 
 shalt be, unless worms catch eagles ! 
 
 Wol. 0, darling Catherine ! O, noble Catherine ! it should be I 
 who, on my bended knees, begged thy forgiveness. 
 
 Cath. Nay — up ; thy knees were never made to bend. Say thou 
 shalt be the King ; till then I never will forgive thee. 
 
 Wol. Then do I swear it. I shall be the king. 0, Catherine, 
 this hour hath taught me that thy arm is stronger and thy mind 
 greater by far than Wolford's ! Dost thou know the path that 
 leads to this high honor? Canst thou tell me how I can be the 
 King? 
 
 Cath. I am but a woman, Clarence, and fear me my advice has 
 been already too profuse. But since you ask me, I will say, the 
 same way that leads Brandon on to glory opens up for thee a crowna. 
 
 Wol. Be a little plainer, Catherine. My brain is dull to-day. 
 
 Cath. In this conspiracy I see thou art the moving spirit. Thou 
 art the camel that carries Brandon over the desert road to fame. 
 Then overthrow him ; become thyself the man ; make him thy 
 beast and seize the crown thyself. 
 
 Wol. If I had th}^ dauntless spirit, I think I could. 
 
 Cath. Then take it. I would die — give up my spirit if I could 
 only greater thine. 
 
 Wol. 0, noblest woman ! If I am ever King thou shalt be Queen, 
 or heaven and earth shall be o'erturned ! 
 
 Cath. Alas ! that cannot be. I have a husband and thou hast a 
 wife. 
 
 Wol. Yes, so we have, and we can ne'er be happy while they 
 live. They are great monuments in our road to hapjjiness and 
 glory. If they had more glory I would willingly give them both 
 monuments. 
 
 Cath. What thought is this which runs like fire through my 
 brain ? What, Catherine ! What ! Oh, I am crazy! My mind is 
 gone. Chirence, protect me from myself, 
 
 Wol. Calm thyself, Catherine. What were thy thoughts ? 
 
 Cath. Methought I saw my husband's hated form lying beside 
 me on our bed, a flood of moonlight through the window streaming 
 o'er us. Methought I raised myself upon one arm and looking at 
 those closed eyes said. Closed he ye. forever. Then gently slipping 
 from our couch, I took a long and double-edged dagger from out a 
 drawer close by, then going back, leaned o'er that sleeping form and 
 hissed: Thou standest between me and my happiness; sleep thus for- 
 ever. And so, methought, I plunged the dagger to the hilt into his 
 heart, then opened uj) the doors and called out murder ! murder ! 
 Such thoughts, Clarence, coursed like lightning through my crazy 
 brain. 
 
 Wol. Be not affiightened, Catherine! Thy thoughts were strange; 
 but while you saw such sights I had a kindred vision. 
 
20 
 
 Vath. Hadst thou a vision too ? O, strange occurrences ! What 
 saw you ? 
 
 WoL I saw at Wolford's home a woman that was called his 
 wife, yet wife in name alone, grow sick and sicker every day with 
 some affection of the heart. At last all hope was lost, of her recov- 
 ery, and suddenly she died. 
 
 Cath. Ended thy vision there ? 
 
 WoL No. Next 1 saw two funeral courses passing with royal 
 pomp the same day. The plumed hearse of one contained thy hus- 
 band ; the other held my wife. 
 
 Cath. And was that all ? 
 
 }Vol. 0, next I saw a sight whose grandeur ne'er was equaled. 
 
 Cath. 0, tell me quickly, Clarence ! 
 
 Wol. I saw a royal, stately throne, in this great country. Upon 
 it sat a king and queen, and all the nations of the earth paid homage 
 to them. 
 
 Cath. Knew thou the king and queen? 
 
 Wol. As all passed by, I heard them shout: "Hail! ClarencC) 
 King ! Hail ! Catherine, Queen !" 
 
 Cath. For that these hands would reek in human blood. 
 
 W^ol. These visions are prophetic. My part shall be done. 
 
 Cath. And mine ! 
 
 Scene i—^Same. A room in Brandon's house. Brandon seated^ 
 as if in deep study. Enter [unseen h/ Brandon), Wolford, 
 McDonald and Maxwell. 
 
 Wol. He is deep engaged in the subject, now. See ! No\V 
 he looks upon it favorably; how he doubts; now he dreams of a 
 second Napoleon. His moods are' fickle yet not unfavorable. See 
 how his feelings are depressed! We must infuse our spirits in him 
 strong. 
 
 McD. Transplant thy oWn into him, Wolford. Look! He needs 
 thy dauntless courage. 
 
 Max. Shall we not speak to him ? I fear he might be angry 
 sliiould he discover us observing him in this condition. 
 
 Wol. Soft, now! Back to the door again, and all come in as if 
 We had not been here. [They retire out of the door, then come in 
 qhickly.] 
 
 Wol. Good morning. General. We entered unannounced, your 
 servant telling us you had left such orders. 
 
 Bra. Right, my friends. Good morning. You are always wel- 
 come, and need no announcement. Cards are for ladies, and their 
 sisters, ladies'-men. 
 
 McD. Ah, General, I fear some gallant has superceded you in 
 some quarter, that you should strike so hard at them this morning. 
 Perhaps our beautiful and accomplished Mrs. Minnard failed to 
 smile upon you last evening. 
 
 Max. If so, I suffered the same fate. The lady seems to save 
 her smiles for my lord Wolford. How is it, Clarence ? 
 
 Wol. Come, gentlemen, weightier matters should engross our 
 time to-day than the questionable occupation of the discussion of a 
 
21 
 
 lady's favors. We bring good news this morning, General. Ran- 
 denier, Minnard and Starlow have secured the support of every man 
 they have approached. Of course, they have been discreet. We 
 are backed by the finances of the nation. All the important rail- 
 roads are ready to furnish us transportation for men and arms. The 
 telegraph is at our service. 
 
 Max. Shelborn has made complete arrangements for taking pos- 
 session of all the armories and forts. 
 
 Bra. O, gentlemen — friends — think me not lacking in courage; 
 but there is something in it all I do not like. 
 
 Wol. What is it, General? It shall be righted. 
 
 Bra. No — there it is; it cannot be righted. It is the overturn- 
 ing of a government, established by our fathers, as a home for lib- 
 erty, and the substitution of a monarchy. 
 
 Wol. Dear General, the history of the world informs us that 
 democracies are only fitted for a people in their infancy. We have 
 outgrown that boyish period. Babes are all equal when they are 
 new born. When they grow up, some by a natural power become 
 the rulers of the others. This is God's will, else were it not the 
 case. Let us not try forestalling the wisdom of divinity. Thou 
 wert born to rule, and 'tis rebellion 'gainst heaven to forsake thy 
 mission. 
 
 Bra. Think you the people generally demand it ? 
 
 McD. Let their past favors to thee answer. From all this na- 
 tion there was but one man could be their President. Twice was 
 it so before. When thus three times they have raised their voices 
 for thee, wilt thou wait longer for the final call ? AYouldst thou 
 have them grasp thee by main force and hold thee on the throne ? 
 
 Wol. If it wert thou alone who would be bettered by this 
 change, I would speak slowly for thee. But, behold ! thy country's 
 good and thine own are one. What are we ? A nation, a confed- 
 eracy, a union — a something no man ever yet defined ! A vast ex- 
 tent of territory, a huge mass of indefinable nothingness ; two 
 scores of petty sovereignties, pulling contrary to each other — a 
 fniitful source for fierce intestine quarrels ! What a farce, that be- 
 ing such we call ourselves great ! Great in what ? Nothing save 
 our square miles. If thou wert Emperor, thou shouldst weld all 
 these scraps, these broken masses, into a solid block, give to it 
 shape, form, character ; and then thy kingdom — 0, shade my eyes 
 from such a sight I 
 
 Max. Gods, what a sight ! How pale and insignificant look all 
 the monarchies of Europe by its side. To England — an island to 
 the world. As Germany — a petty despotism to a God-ruled sover- 
 eignty. As Spain — a Liliputian to great Hercules. As Austria — 
 a hand-organ to the music of the spheres. 0, what a country thou 
 shalt be the Emperor of ! 
 
 McD. The arts and sciences, growing beneath thy fond paternal 
 hand, shall make the dead of Greece and Rome grow envious. 
 
 Max. The industries, fostered by thy protecting care, shall fur- 
 nish thy people's wants without dependence upon other lands. 
 
 W9I. And if thy people, grown too soft by peace, should need 
 
22 
 
 infusion of the hard'ning qualities of war, or if tliy martial spirit 
 should seek for conquest, upon thy north lie the fair provinces of 
 Canada, and on thy southern boundary is the rich but weak Mexican 
 Republic, whose people — when thy greatness shall be known — shall 
 long to have thee for their ruler too. And further southward the 
 discordant states of Central and of South America but await thy 
 coming, when the great continent, which Nature made but one, 
 shall be beneath thy most imperial sway, and then the gods shall 
 sigh and wonder that so great a man as thou wert ever born ! 
 
 Bra. 0, gentlemen — 0, friends, forgive me if I leave you. My 
 spirit is sore troubled, and my soul would with itself commune. 
 
 [Exit Bra. 
 
 McD. What think you, Wolford — will he resist the crown? 
 
 Max. Will he resist it ? 
 
 Wol. Resist the crown ! resist the crown ! Maxwell ! McDonald ! 
 why have ye lived so long, to ask me such a question ? Can your 
 bare eyes resist the dazzling splendor of the sun ? If so, then Bran- 
 don can resist the crown. {Exeunt. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene 1 — Washington. A imrk with a rustic scat. Night. 
 
 Moonlight. 
 
 Enter Brandon. 
 
 Bra. 0, mighty circumstances — 0, weighty thoughts which bear 
 
 so heavily upon me ! Depression overcomes me ; I am bowed down 
 
 beneath a load too great for me to carry. Here let me rest my 
 
 body, if my spirit will not. [Sits down in seat in attitude of deep 
 
 thought. '^ 
 
 Enter Oneiros and Morpheus from behind Brandon. They ap- 
 proach him noiselessly and wave their wands over his head. 
 Brandon gradually falls asleep. After he sleeps — 
 
 Morpheus. Dream thou, sleeper, of thy coming empire. 
 
 Oneiros. Of thy future kingdom dream thee. 
 
 Morp. Call, Oneiros — -call our helpers. 
 
 Onei. God of Dreamland, I obey thee. 
 
 [Oneiros retires to back of stage and, by waving his wand, causes 
 the scenery to open, revealing a fairy land, and beckoning, through 
 opening, 
 
 Enter Ikelos and Phobetor, who approach Morpheus, and pay 
 obeisance to him.] 
 
 Morp. (to Ikelos). This sleeper would be an emperor; make thou 
 his dreams appear realities. 
 
 Ikelos [performing over Brandon]. Obedient to the God of 
 Dreams I, his assistant, breath my spirit through thee. Thus shall 
 thy dreams to thee appear great realities. 
 
23 
 
 Morp. (to Pliobetor). To thee the powers the gods did give to 
 make a sleeper's dreams alarming. Upon him put thy best eflfects. 
 
 Phohetor (performing over Brandon). Alarm I put into thy sleep; 
 most startling be thy dreams. 
 
 Morp. Sweet Oneiros, will thou bring the goddesses of night- 
 mares ? 
 
 [Oneiros retires to rear of stage, and, by performing with his 
 wand, causes the scenery to open, through which 
 
 Enter three Fatui. 
 
 Morp. Come, thou gods and goddesses of dreams, visions, fanta- 
 sies and nightmares, let us circle round this sleeper, thus by our 
 united efforts all our powers on him bestowing. [They circle round 
 Brandon with fantastic motions.] Soft ! Now he dreams. Let us, 
 away, brothers and sisters. 
 
 [Exeunt.'] 
 
 Bra, [rising, as if in a dream]. Yes, Wolford, thou art right. I 
 must decide it now. But two days more e'er the inauguration. 
 
 * * * Why, yes ; I think thy arguments are sound. Good 
 Claren^'-e, I will confide in thee. I am sore, pulled, twisted and 
 wrought-up to fever-heat by a fierce war that's waging in me. The 
 armed hosts of patriotism and ambition are tearing my vitals out. 
 
 * * * * Ha ! Ha ! How light a thing you make patriotism 
 seem. * * * Well, so 'tis ; 'tis a delusive occupation. To give 
 all one's life for one's country and die a pauper ! To have one's 
 legs and arms shot off, and live upon a miser's pension ! Or, if like 
 me, escape these pains to suffer the stings, slurs and ingratitude of 
 an ungrateful people. * * * Too true, too true. Who cares for 
 all those countless millions who have laid down their lives for that 
 vain thing we call a country ? * * * * Why, now, you ask me 
 who live in history: unless it is all a lie, they are those who have 
 made their country's glory subservient to their own. * * * You 
 are right, Wolford — to be a king is everything ; to be a so-called 
 patriot is nothing. I will be the King. I swear it ! * * * * 
 Yes, I think the people want me; I am almost certain of it. * * * 
 Oh, certainly we may expect some trouble from the rabble; but 1 
 know how to deal with rabbles. Gatling-guns and grape-shot for 
 rabbles. 
 
 Enter Napoleon I. 
 
 Nap. Yes, thou art right. Gattling guns and grape-shot for 
 rabbles. 
 
 Bra. Who speaks ? What! Who is this with such close like- 
 ness to the great dead Emperor of France ? 
 
 Nap. The immortality of the first Napoleon greets the coming 
 Emperor of America! 
 
 Bra. The first Napoleon! The coming Emperor of America ! 
 What trick is this that so deceives my eye and ear? My heart 
 would leave me, yet my blood stands frozen in my veins! 0, speak 
 — whence came thou ? What wilt thou ? 0, do relieve my spell! 
 
 Nap. Fear not. Let thy strong limbs resume their uses, and 
 thy heart beat moderate. I came not here to harm thee. If thou 
 
24 
 
 "-""Idst know from whence I came, I can but point thee to the past, 
 and say: from whence the 7niUions of this earth have gone! 
 
 Bra. Then art thou in reality the great Napoleon — the spirit in 
 which France lived — the conqueror of the world — the banished Em- 
 peror ? 
 
 Nap. Of whom thou speakest I am the immortal part, made 
 visible to thee. 
 
 Bra. 0, most transcendent genius of this earth, for what cause 
 didst thou leave that unknown world to thus appear before a mortal 
 man in human guise ? 
 
 Nap. To tell thee that thou shalt be an emperor. 
 
 Bra. An emperor ? 
 
 Nap. Aye; and thy children and their children, emperors. 
 
 Bra. 0, great Past Majesty! 
 
 Nap. Thou shalt be Emperor of America. But ere thou dost 
 join me in that other world, as an immortal king, the limits of the 
 country over which thou shalt the ruler be, shall be the poles of 
 earth. 
 
 Eater Alexander the Great. 
 
 Bra. 0, wondrous night! What being art thou, who doth wear 
 the looks of man and gods combined ? Art thou of earth, or dost 
 thou to that unknown realm belong ? 
 
 Alex. Full two and twenty hundred years ago, like thee I was a 
 mortal man, and then this earth I made my home. 
 
 Bra. Durst I to ask thee whom then thou wert, or would it be 
 bold impudence to thus accost thee ? 
 
 Nap. For thy sa.ke will ?I answer, lest, should the information 
 come from yonder source, thou'dst die of sheer amazement. Great 
 Alexander, son of the Macedonian King, attends thee! 
 
 Bra. Oh, that my tongue had speech! 
 
 Alex. Nay, calm thyself. To greet thee, father of a race of 
 kings, I left that far-oflf land. 
 
 Enter C^sar. 
 
 Bra. No man who ever lived upon this earth, save one, bore that 
 great face, and he was Julius Ccesar. 
 
 Cces. Whether my life deserved the rich encomium of your 
 speech I will not say, but thou hast rightly called my name. 
 
 Bra. Immortal C?esar, greatest of all the earth, humbly I bow be- 
 fore thee, yielding obedience to thee. Oh, wilt thou tell me, hum- 
 ble mortal that I am, why thou mad'st vacant thy great throne in 
 space to dazzle thus my eyes ? 
 
 Cms. With these, my compeers of that other world, I came to 
 hail thee King, 
 
 Enter Frederic the Great. 
 
 Bra. And is this more departed, yet immortal royalty ! 
 N. A. and C. Hail Frederic, great King of Prussia! 
 Fred. From my throne in yon bright firmament, to this, my 
 former habitation, I came to see the crowned Emperor of America. 
 Bra. To see me crowned ? 
 Fred. Aye, and to help in thy great coronation. 
 
25 
 
 Enter Catherine II. and Peter the Great. 
 
 N. A. C. and F. Hail, Catherine and Peter, great Empress and 
 Czar of Russia. 
 
 Bra. Before that awful pair I bow in solemn awe. Honoring the 
 earth with thy great presence I would welcome thee, save that thy 
 right on this terrestial sphere is first o'er mine. As 'tis, I hail thee, 
 greatest ruler that ever took the form of woman, and hail thee, 
 noble Czar. 
 
 C. and P. And hail we to the coming monarch of the world. 
 
 Alex. Now, from our realm, comes the great Pharaoh of Egypt, 
 
 Enter an Egyptian King. 
 
 Cces. And now, sweet Cleopatra, daughter of the Nile. 
 Enter Cleopatra. 
 
 Nep. My own example, Louis XIV. , of France. 
 Enter Louis XIV. 
 
 Cces. Great Hannibal, the Carthagenian general. 
 Enter Hannibal. 
 
 Bra. 0, majesty! 0, majesty! 0, what a realm of kings and 
 emperors, philosophers and statesmen, warriors and great heroes 
 came ye from! 
 
 Naj). All the immortal greatness of the earth is there ! 
 
 Bra. Blind not my eyes with more, lest that I take my life to 
 see it all ! 
 
 Cces. Since we have come to place upon thy head the crown 
 imperial of thy future state, what name wilt thou assume by which 
 thy followers and all time shall know thee? 
 
 Brd. Mighty Caesar, wilt thou christen me ? 
 
 Cces. Since so it is thy will, I will. From this time on, through 
 all eternity, thou shalt be called Ulysses First, Emperor of America. 
 
 Nap. Come, now, ye lesser and attendant gods, bring forth the 
 golden throne. 
 
 Enter a number of Nymphs, ivho, by waving their loands at rear of 
 
 stage, cause the scenery to ^^a?*^, revealing a throne, which, in 
 
 obedience to their movements, is by invisible hands pushed for" 
 
 ward, ivhen the scenery is again closed. 
 
 Nap. (to Nymphs.) Bring forth the royal robes. {The Nymphs 
 
 produce them. ) 
 
 Nap. Enrobe His Majesty for his coronation. {The Nymphs en- 
 robe Brandon.) 
 
 Alex. Ascend thy throne, thou coming monarch. Attend I 
 {Brandon ascends the throne.) 
 
 Cces. Bring forth the diamond crown which from the other world 
 we brought. {The Nymphs bring the croion and give it to Ccesar.) 
 Enter Mercury. 
 Cces. Swift-running Mercury, herald of the gods, hast thou 
 message for us ? 
 Mercury. From great Jupiter on high come I to Your Majesty. 
 
26 
 
 Certain of the gods he sends to this coronation, and sweet goddesses 
 attend on the great Ulysses. 
 
 Cces. If it so please the gods and goddesses to attend the corona- 
 tion of Ulysses as their herald, bid thera enter. 
 
 Mercury retires to rear of stage, and with his caduceus or staff causes 
 the scenery to opeii. 
 
 Mer. From thy throne on high, great Mars, come, thou thun- 
 d'ring god of wars ! 
 
 Thunder and lightning. Mars is seen as if coming out of clouds, and 
 enters through rear of stage. 
 
 Enter Mars. 
 
 Mars. (Before the throne. ) Great Ulysses, Emperor to be, God 
 of War good greeting giveth thee. Full many a l)attle with earth's 
 rulers thou shalt wage, and thrones shall crumble, kingdoms disap- 
 pear, empires dissolve and nations fall before thy all victorious 
 arms. Defeat shall never know thee, for thou shalt have the guid- 
 ance of the gods. 
 
 Mer. (Opening scenery as before.) From out the ocean's pearly 
 depth old Neptune cometh to the coronation. 
 
 [Neptune aj^pears as if rising from the ocean and comes in at rear 
 of stage and before throyie.] 
 
 Nep. Upon the seas thy nation once was great. Forsaken is 
 old Neptune by it now. So does the God of Ocean leave it and 
 upon thee bestow his blessings. When thou art Emperor thou 
 shalt have a navy under whose weight the waters of the deep shall 
 groan ; not all the powers of the earth shall cope with it, for it 
 shall be beneath the care of Neptune. 
 
 Mer. The Goddesses of Wisdom, Love and Justice pay attend- 
 ance on Ulysses. 
 
 Cces. Let them enter. 
 [Enter Minerva, Venus and Themis. All come before the throne.] 
 
 Min. Since thou shalt be the greatest ruler on this earth, 'twere 
 well that thou shouldst have the greatest quality of such a king. 
 Therefore know thee that it is wisdom. Greater in government is it 
 than ships of war or belching cannon, or armed hosts, or money- 
 bursting treasury. And thus as a free gift her goddess giveth it 
 thee supreme. 
 
 Venus. The oldest monarch in this world is love. He hath 
 more subjects and more riches than any other, for all mankind, yea 
 even the very beasts do pay him tribute. His fields are boundless 
 and his hidden treasures would make a universe of solid gold. If 
 thou wouldst be so great an emperor, let all thy acts be filled to 
 overflowing with my spirit. Venus doth bless thee, great Ulysses. 
 
 Themis. No quality — not even love— becomes so well a mighty 
 ruler as doth cold and even-handed justice. Thou canst make no 
 mistake if thou mlt take justice for thy guide. Her goddess, rival- 
 ing in her gifts to thee, wisdom and love, bestows her richest bless- 
 ings on thee. 
 
 Mer. The fair goddesses of Peace and Home would enter 
 
27 
 
 {Eater, in same way as others, Eieene and Hestia. ] 
 
 Cms. Gentle goddesses, came ye to give to great Ulysses your 
 blessings ? 
 
 Eirene ami Hestia. Most mighty Csesar, so we came. 
 
 {They fjo hejore the throne.'] 
 
 Eirene. Think not I \rould upon the proper sphere of Mars 
 encroach, nor yet make small the qualities of necessary war. Yet 
 know thee, mighty monarch that thou shalt be^ that in the arts of 
 peace, not war, must lie thy real greatness. Eirene gives thee bless- 
 ings. 
 
 Hestia. Hail, Sovereign Majesty, and know thee, that if thou 
 wilt have thy kingdom rival Jove's, thou must teach thy people to 
 have homes, for every one that has a home is a sovereign in himself, 
 and thus shalt thy dominion be composed of sovereigns, and thou 
 shalt be a king of kings. 
 
 Mer. Fame and Fortune would address theeu 
 Enter Fortuna and Fama. 
 
 Fortnna. All good fortune from my hand does come. All good 
 fortune gtve I thee. 
 
 Fama. O'er this earth thy fame shall %, to the world's remotest 
 ends. 
 
 3fer. (coming before the throne). By their herald. Mercury, sends 
 to thee, great Jupiter, and all the other gods their richest blessings. 
 {To Caesar. ) Let the coronation now proceed. 
 
 Cces. By the great counsel of immortal kings in our great realm, 
 beyond the confines of the earth, it was decreed that C99sar should 
 place upon thy head the diamond crown, which thou shalt wear 
 when thou art crowned by mortal man. Now, by the powers in me 
 vested, I crown thee Ulysses First, Emperor of America [raises the 
 crown to put it on Brandon's head. ] 
 
 Enter Washington. 
 
 Wash. Stop thy accursed ceremonies, or the great King of kings 
 will curse thee twice. Down, ye damned monsters of iniquity, ye 
 fell traitors to humanity! Dyed are your hands and smeared your 
 bodies o'er with the blood of all your counti^es. Would you in- 
 crease the tyrants of this world by one ? M^ould you stir up a stormy 
 revolution in this happy land, glut it with blood, kill off its sons ? 
 I'll send you back to your damned holes in kell, for you are on a 
 mission from the deviL Back to your world of mjths, delusive 
 gods and goddesses. (To Brandon.) Oh, thou beastly glutton] 
 Art thou not satisfied with all the honors of this free people ? 
 Must thois enslave thy countrymen to bring thee glory ? No human 
 head shall ever wear a crown in this free land. Give me that 
 tyrant's headgear (snatches it from Caesar). So as I east this cursed 
 thing upon the ground, shall thy head fall if thou dost ever try to 
 play the tyriint in this country, croach down, ye despots; I am your 
 enemy. Think ye I fear your all-impotent rage? No, no! Nor 
 shall my country. Preserve, oh, God, this people from the hands 
 oi tyrants and of kings. 
 
 ■{Curtain.] 
 
2S 
 
 ACT lY. 
 
 Scene 1 — New Ym-Tc. A street 
 Enter Wolforiv. 
 
 Wol. Life is one long series of speculations, and the world'^s s 
 huge stockboard. We are all either buyers or sellers — bulls or bears. 
 All the propositions of life end in how many, how much, what 
 amount, and their kmdred. Every thing's for sale or exchange. 
 Take, for instance, your honest politician and your dear people. 
 One has an office to dispose of, and the other wants it. One says^ 
 How many inducements can you oiler for it ? the other answers^. 
 Behold! here's my honesty, or my sack, or my brains, or my long- 
 nosed scheming, or my short-nosed fightiiig, or my honest trickery,, 
 and so on ad injfinitum, till all your qualities of a politician are ex- 
 hausted. The highest bidder takes the office. So with your lawyer, 
 your doctor, your preacher, your merchant, your lover, your every- 
 body. To-morrow a throne is to be disposed of. I am a bidder. 
 As I am about to enter upon the largest series of transactions of my 
 life, 'twere well I figure a little on my ^jrospective profits and losses, 
 I lose a wife— that's certain. Sweet spirit, take thy flight to 
 heaven ; my loss is thy gain. If I had lost thee long ago I had not 
 died from grief. Next, I lose a friend, by name Wallace Minnard,. 
 What moots it, Clarence, that thou shouldst lose a friend ? The 
 world is full of them, and thou may'st have them for the picking. 
 What ! who said thy conscience ? Well, 'tis a good riddance ! But 
 I have lost thee many times, and, like a worthless cur, thou dost 
 come sneaking home again. If thou hadst been of any worth, some 
 thief would have stolen thee long ago. Some day I'll murder thee 
 outright, and then thou wilt follow me no longer. Now to my 
 gains — for, after all, I like that side the best. I gain a wife ; yes, I 
 lose Miriam and I gain Catherine. 'Tis a good exchange. If I 
 lose my dear friend Minnard, I gain liis fortune, which, falling to 
 his wife, shall reach me by the law— of gravitation. And it is said 
 Minnard has stolen millions. I cry him, Stop, thief ! deliver to an 
 honest man ! But these transactions employ only the little, mean, 
 and insignificant broker in me. They involve not my greater 
 nature, but, like side-shows, are tilings to be looked into while we 
 are where they are. A throne ! a throne ! an empire of fifty mil- 
 lions ! Ye gods, the attempt to get it is worth a thousand deaths ! 
 Ah ! here comes Catherine. If I had let the fair sex be, methinka 
 I would have been a greater and a better man. 
 
 Enter Catherine Minnard. 
 My dearest Catherine, the time speeds quickly when I hail thee a& 
 a queen. 
 
 Cath. To-night great deeds are done ; to-morrow greater. Then 
 must the iron bands of patience hold us for a little while, till public 
 sentiment is satisfied, and after that — love ! glory ! fame ! 
 
 Wol. Truly, Catherine; truly. If thou couldst have but one, 
 which wouldst thou choose, love, glory or fame ? 
 
 I 
 
2D 
 
 ^ath. 'Tis for thy love tliat I do all. The others are thy own 
 and only mine as they are thine. ' 
 
 Wok ]\Iost incomparable woman! But does thy courage ever 
 fail thee ?— art thou strong in thy determination ? ° 
 
 Cath. Clarence, I see a star that is my guide. 0, what a bril- 
 liant star! It never sets, but in its fixture shines through day and 
 night, paling both sun and moon. 'Tis to that star that I am going, 
 Clarence. Between that heavenly body and myself are raging tor- 
 rents, deep gorges, high mountains and great oceans. AlHhese 
 must I pass, but 1 falter not. To one in this life, who has a set de- 
 termination, nothing is impossible. ^leed I tell thee, Clarence, thou 
 •art my star ? 
 
 Wol A'oble woman! With thee a man could be a king, face 
 every obstacle, beat down conspiracies, wage war, and fix his 
 throne as high as Jove. But we must not tarry here, lest gross sus- 
 picion fix his <jye ujion us. 
 
 Cath. Shall I not see thee once again before to-morrow ? No one 
 can tell what Fate— that awful word!— to-morrow may have stored 
 Xip for us. Just once more, Clarence. 
 
 Wol. Yes; when the moon rises to-night, meet me in your gar- 
 den by the great oak tree. 'Till then, adieu, brave spirit. 
 
 ^ .7 TTTi T n T . ^-^^^ WOLFORD, 
 
 Cath. Why should I go? Tis much against my better jtidg- 
 ment. There is a quality in human nature past finding out, that 
 leads us on to risky places. But I must know whether she suspects 
 me. Yes, to his wife— thither will I go. His wife! If she were 
 not beneath contempt I would despise her. As 'tis, I almost pity 
 ter. We used to be great friends, but I have growTi so great a 
 coward of late, I have not dared to see her. Clarence says she is 
 broken-hearted. I will go to her with a face so full of sympathy 
 that even Satan might be deceived. Then will she the better be 
 prepared to meet her fate, and I shall know if she attributes her 
 lost sovereignty to me. [Exit. 
 
 Scene 2.~A room in WolforcVs House. Miriam Wolford seated. 
 
 Miriam. Oh, m.e ! ah, me ! and here I sit all day and sigh. Oh, 
 me ! Miriam, once thou hadst beauty, it is gone ; once thou hadst 
 spirit and ambition, but they are gone. Thou art but the dead, 
 useless skeleton of thy once self. Y"et I am his wife. At least I 
 bear his name, and I have borne him children. Alas! I bear his name 
 and am the mother of his children; nothing more. And he so 
 great, so grand ! Wliy, all the world fawns on him. I blame them 
 not, if they all love him. God knows how I do. - And yet he is so 
 cold to me. Have I lost all those charms with which I won him ? 
 Has my poor body grown so worthless that his waim blood conc^eals 
 at sight of it ? 0, awful thought ! No, no, not that ; 0, my ''poor 
 wasted body! Y^et 'tis so, and while he seeks his pleasures from 
 his home, I must stay here tormented by a thousand demons. Oh, 
 God ! thou only knowest the sufferings of many a devoted wife and 
 mother. 
 
30 
 
 Enter servant, with card. 
 
 Servant Madam: pardon me, ma>dam. 
 
 Mir. I care to see no one to-day, Mary. Say I am sicfe. [Eeads 
 card.] Catherine Minnard — my old friend. Stay a moment, Mary, 
 Let me think.. She always was so kind. 0, how I need some con- 
 solation ! She waits upon the sick — no one so sick as I. She min- 
 isters to the poor — the j)oore;t beggar is a millionaire by me. Surely 
 she must have a heart that beats in unison with mine. Yes, I will 
 receive her, if only that I may draw some sympathy from her pres- 
 ence. Mary, you may show Mrs. Minnard in, 
 Enter Ca'shekine, 
 
 Cath. (aside). How my heart beats. I am full of mrsgivings ;; 
 yet I must be sooL (Aloud.) Oh, Miriam! how glad I am to se& 
 you. 
 
 Mi7\ My dear old friend,. I had almost thought yoa had forgot- 
 ten me, it has been so long since you came to see me.. 
 
 Cath. Think not it was because I did not want to see yoi>, dear- 
 est Miriam. 1 have so longed to, but I have been so mach engaged.. 
 
 3Iir. I know, dear; your time is all taken up in deeds of charity., 
 
 Cath. Why, Miriam, how pale you look.. Have yoa not been 
 ill? (Aside.) Why did I ask that que,stion-, to receive some answer 
 that I do not want. 
 
 Mir. No, dear^ not sick ; I am as well as usual, I thiak. 
 
 Cath. I fear that you deceive me, dear heart, for I wosld have* 
 thought you were just recovering from some serious illness. (Aside. } 
 Asking it again ; how foolish I am. 
 
 Mir. Do I look so very bad ? 
 
 Cath. You have been crying,. Miriam. Is there not some trouble- 
 you are having you can tell me and with you let me sympathize ?' 
 (Miriam bursts out crying.) (Aside.) 0-, woi-se than idiot head to- 
 put itself beneath the hangman's noose, and yet I cannot help it. 
 
 Mir. The kindness of your heart appeals to mine, and^ tells me* 
 you will help me bear my sorrow. 
 
 Cath. (Aside. ) Did ever one so long and yet so dread to hear a- 
 story. But I must know: if she kiiow anytliing.. (Aloud.) Dearest 
 Miriam, pour thy sorrow in my ear, and if a woman's heart can help 
 thee, then shall mine be thy willing servant. 
 
 Mir. Dear, kind Catherine,, thou knowestthat I have a husband.. 
 
 Cath.. Yes, Miriam. 
 
 3Iir. And yet I have no husband. 
 
 Cath. Thou hast a husband aaid yet thou hast eo husband. I 
 fear I do not understand. ( Asida ) Alas ! I know her meaning, 
 far too well. 
 
 Mir.. Fifteen years ago^ to-day Clarence and I were mstpried. I 
 had a husband then. 
 
 Cath. (Aside. ). There is a bidden mean'ng in ber words I do- 
 not like. (Aloud.) And is not he your husband still ? 
 
 Mir. No ; he tliat was my husband is so no more. He's dead.. 
 
 Cath. What, dead ? 'Did you say dead ? Your husband dead ? 
 Oh, Miriam,, that cannot be>. (Aside.), Why,. I left him not ai3i 
 hour ago. What does she mean ? 
 
31 
 
 Mir. Ah ! Catherine, I knew that in a heart so "warm as youir's 
 1 woukl find sympathy. 
 
 Cath, Yes, if your husband's dead you have my whole heart's 
 sympathy. It bleeds as your's bleeds, Miriam. 
 
 Mir. I say he's dead and yet he lives. 
 
 Catlu He's dead and yet alive ? O, make your meaning clear. 
 
 Mir. 'Tis this, dear Catherine. Clarence is dead to me, hia 
 wife, and yet he lives for others. 
 
 Cath. Are you quite sure of what you say ? Mayhaps you ac- 
 cuse your husband wrongly. Will you tell me what proofs you 
 have ? 
 
 Mir. Oh 1 evidence that to a Woman's heart is too conclusive. 
 He used to say, " I love you, Miriam," or "my own dear one," and 
 cover me up beneath a load of such endearing phrases. But he says 
 fiiich things no more. And when, in times gone by, as was his cus- 
 tom in the morning, he quit our home to go about his usual avoca- 
 tions, he'd put his arm about me, and taking me thus to the door, 
 fold me in his strong embrace and rain down kisses on my thirsty 
 lips till I was flooded with his love. Then, coming home at even- 
 ing, bring rich bouquets of flowers and other little love-tokens which 
 his quick eye perceived I liked ; and, supper over, would stay 
 through the evening with me, or take me to places of amusement, 
 to return home thence, to that fondest place, where, resting on his 
 arm, I drowned in the obliv^ion of sweetest slumber. Alas ! he 
 does these things no more, but is sealed up, in cold, arctic apathy 
 and inattention. 'Tis this that hollowed out my cheeks, made 
 these ridges and furrows in my Hesh, and sistered me to death. 
 
 Gath. But still, may it not be that these inattentions are but 
 those ordinary ones which grow up between man and wife when 
 years have dulled the ardor of their first affection ? You know, 
 Miriam, our husbands are not always what they were upon our 
 Wedding days, when they crusted us deep over with the honey of 
 their love. 
 
 Mir. I might think so, were Clarence but an ordinary man, 
 whose affection oozed out as he aged. But in him every nerve is a 
 battery of love, and every artery flows full of blood charged with 
 rich affection. No, Catherine, he gives that love that should be- 
 long to me itnto another. 
 
 Cath. And know you who that other is 1 
 
 Mir. No. 
 
 Cath. Have you no idea ? 
 
 Mir. No, nor do I care. She who robs me of my husband is a 
 harlot, whether she lives within a marble palace and is bedecked 
 with diamonds, or in the gutter by the open advertisement of her 
 Unehastity. Oh, dear, kind soul, my tale of woe has much affected 
 you. 
 
 Cath. Yes, dear, it has quite overcome me. You have all my 
 sympathy. Oh, how I grieve to find you in such trouble. Be as- 
 sured that if it rests in my power to help you in any way I shall do 
 80. And now, dear Miriam, good-bye. Let not this deep alHiction 
 keep us from being friends, but rather let me help you bear it. 
 
32 
 
 Mir. Oh, Catherine dear, you little know how much better I 
 feel since I have found one kind heart in which to pour my sorrow. 
 
 [Exit Catherine.] 
 It is now Clarence's time for coming home. Home, did I say ? Oh, 
 what a meaning for that sweet word is this ! Clarence, if thou 
 would'st only show me just a little kindness! Somehow I feel a 
 change is coming. It must be for the' better. It can be no worse. 
 Enter Wolford with a bouquet 
 Wol. My dear, 1 bought you a bouquet as I was coming home. 
 Mir. Oh, Clarence ! 
 
 Wol. I thought you would like it; they are your favorite flowers. 
 Mir. Like it, Clarence ? I worship it as I do the giver. 
 Wol. Oh, darling, if I have seemed of late to grow cold and neg- 
 lectful of my love, vote it not that my love's grown cold, but 
 rather that the affairs of state have weighed heavily upon my mind. 
 3Iir. You are my own true Clarence. I knew there must be 
 something great to keep my love so housed up in himself. Oh, 
 happy day! 
 
 Wol. Yes, Miriam, this is a happy day, for you and I and mil- 
 lions. I will tell you, but you must not breathe it ■ 
 
 Mir. Not for the world. 
 
 Wol. That great conspiracies have been stalking o'er this land, 
 seeking to overthrow the government, and it has required the 
 promptest and most decisive action to thwart them. 
 
 Mir. And you have been among the first — yea, the very first — 
 to dare everything for your country's sake! 
 
 Wol. But now it is all ended, and we shall be so happy. 
 Mir. And you will always be to me just as you used to be. 
 Why, Clarence, what is this you have in your pocket ? May I take 
 it out ? 
 
 Wol. Why, certainly, dear. I had forgotten all about it. It is 
 an orange of a very peculiar kind, from South America. Will you 
 eat it ? 
 
 Mi)\ 0, thank you, Clarence. (Peeling it.) Clarence, did you 
 get it for me ? 
 
 Wol. Yes, darling. 
 
 Mir. (Eating.) Why, what a peculiar tasting orange it is. It's 
 so very sweet. 
 
 Wol. Therein lies its peculiar excellence. (Aside.) Some poisons 
 are very sweet. 
 
 Mi?'. Clarence, there won't be any more conspiracies that will 
 keep us separated, will there ? 
 Wol. I hope not, Miriam. 
 
 Mir. And we will always be together. I am so happy. Do 
 you know how much I love you ? 
 Wol. How much ? 
 
 Mir. More than all the world— more than my life. Tell me 
 that you love me, Clarence. 
 
 Wol. My first, my only love, thou knowest that my love for 
 thee is boundless. 
 
 Mir, Oh ! Clarence, what a peculiar feeling I have about my 
 
33 
 
 heart. It seems to flutter for an instant and then almost stop. 
 
 Wol. What can it be, I wonder ? 
 
 Mir. There, I am better now, I think it was the thought 
 that my dear CLarence had come back to me. (Struggles.) 
 
 Wol. (Aside. ) Oh ! have I lost all feeling ? Am I iron ? 
 
 Mir. What did you say, Clarence ? 0, my heart ! I cannot 
 breathe ! (Dies.) 
 
 Wol. Miriam, thou art dead, and my mind hangs on a pivot, 
 knowing not whether to be glad or sorry. Thou wert a good wife, 
 as good wives go in this bad world, and I rather think thy proper 
 sphere was heaven. For all thy goodness to me I was thy debtor ; 
 now I have paid thee with an angel's robe. I cannot mourn thee 
 now as thou deservest, for other thoughts engross me. In due 
 course of time thy body will be found, where thou didst suddenly 
 die of heart disease ; then will I follow thee, all mufiled up in sor- 
 row, to thy grave. Farewell. I must to Catherine now. 
 
 Scene 3 — A garden. The moon just rising. 
 Enter Leonora Minnard with a bible and a vial. 
 Nora. 0, heart— 0, heart of me ! 0, Nora, Nora, Nora ! far 
 too young thou didst find out thou hadst a heart. Ah, this awak- 
 ening ! O, saddest hour, when maidens wake from the sweet sleep 
 of their virginity, to find it ravished from them ! What curse did 
 bring this on me ? He was so good, so noble and so kind; one would 
 have thought that heaven had been his teacher. No flower was ever 
 half so sweet as those honey words with which he stole my soul. 
 Oh ! I can hear them now as they creep through my nerves, holding 
 me charmed before him. Life for me is ended. My body, sapped 
 of its honor, is a worthless thing — fit food for worms. [Kneels, hold- 
 ing the booh up before her.) Oh, Holy Virgin, pure mother of our 
 blessed Savior ! wilt thou give intercession for my poor soul ? 
 
 Enter Catherine, not perceiving Nora. 
 
 Cath. Softly! This is the hour I was to meet him here. 
 
 Nora, (not perceiving Catherine.) Dear, sweet, pure mamma, I 
 shall never see thee more ! 
 
 Cath. What ! Nora here ? 
 
 Nora. Oh, papa— gentle, loving papa! God in heaven, wilt Thou 
 be their guide ? Give them strong hearts to bear this awful sorrow; 
 they shall never know their darling's shame. {Lifts bottle and takes 
 poison. ) 
 
 Cath. 0, Nora, Nora! my child, my child ! [Catches bottle.) 
 
 Nora. Mother! 
 
 Cath. Dearest child — my only child — what awful sorrow is it 
 makes thee do this woeful act ? 
 
 Nora. Oh, mamma, dare I approach thy holy person ere I die ?. 
 Can I call thee mother still ? I can never look thee in the face. 
 
 Cath. God in heaven, spare me! oh, strike me dumb, that I may 
 never hear this! oh, pluck out my eyes, that I may never see this! 
 
 Nora. Do not reproach me, mother; I pray thee, by all the love 
 thou once didst bear poor Nora, give me one little drop of pity. 
 
34 
 
 Cath. If I had only died before this day! Thou great Eternal 
 Power, I do await Thy stroke. 
 
 Nora. Oh, mother! let me lay my head upon thy breast and die. 
 
 Cath. Wilt not Thou kill me ? cannot I die ? how I do pray for 
 death! 
 
 Nora. Say thou dost forgive me; then I can die. 
 
 Cath. What, Nora ! Is my grief so great I cannot think of thee ? 
 Oh ! my poor child ! My little lamb ! 
 
 Nora. Can you forgive me, mother ? How he loved me ! 'Twas 
 all in love I yielded. Oh, Clarence, for thy love do I forgive thee ! 
 
 Cath. (Throwing Nora from her.) What name is that that tears 
 my hearing from me ? Oh ! beast ! This is completed retribution. 
 Sealed be my woman's heart forever ! Out, pity ! Out, remorse I 
 Out, conscience ! Out, everything ! Give room for vengeance I 
 Vengeance, fill up my soul ! Where is that dagger that was brought 
 to murder Wallace ? (Producing it. ) Thou shalt perform a holier 
 office now. 
 
 Enter Wolford, not perceiving Nora. 
 
 Wol. My sweetest Catherine, thou art waiting for me ? 
 
 Cath. Yes, I am waiting for thee, traitor ! 
 
 Wol. Thou art a noble actress, Catherine. With what great 
 sternness thou didst pronounce me traitor, my pretty coadjutrix. 
 
 Cath. Back, villain ! Wouldst thou defile me more with thy 
 accursed, tainted touch ? 
 
 Wol. The greatest patriot could not have said it better. Thou 
 art a queen by nature. 
 
 Cath. See'st thou this dagger? It was bought to murder Wal- 
 lace ! 
 
 Wol. Why, 'tis a pretty weapon, and will still his heart most 
 beautifully. 
 
 Cath. It shall still thine, if one thou hast, thou thrice-accursed 
 traitor ! 
 
 Wol. (Aside.) it seems to me there is something more than 
 acting here. (Aloud.) If I a traitor am, thou art my accessory, 
 my partner, as thou shalt be my queen. 
 
 Cath. Was not thy gourmand heart satisfied when thou betrayed 
 thy country and thy friends ? 
 
 Wol. Not till I am a king and thou a queen. 
 
 Cath. Was't not enough that thou should'st steal my wifely 
 honor ! 
 
 Wol. \Miat,^ madam ! You carry your play too far I Enough I 
 Enough ! 'Twas not for this I came here. 
 
 Cath. Oh ! thou incestuous devil ! Look yonder, and prepare 
 to die ! (Points with her dagger to Nora, ) that I knew some 
 art by which I could kill thee perpetually ! Crouch, coward ! 
 Crouch before thy devilish work ! 
 
 Wol. 0, spare me, Catherine, for my love to you ! 
 
 Cath. Thy love that was so great that thou didst blind and make 
 me deaf to all my duty! Thy love that was so great that thou didst 
 steal my virtue ! Thy love that was so monstrous that thou didst 
 rob me of my richest ti'easure ! monstrous love ! For thy great 
 
35 
 
 love for CafheTine tliou shalt die. She'll let thy blood out. Yet 
 •stay. If I kill thee, coward that thou art, thy suflFering shall be 
 but momentary. No ! Thou shalt live to die a million times each 
 day, if in thy traitorous heart remorse holds any place. 'Tis I 
 shall die, and thou my murderer and that sweet Ijabe's. And every 
 hour then livest thy accursed Aision shall see before it Catherine 
 and JSTora. Out from my sight, thou viper. I could not die with 
 thy false eyes upon me. 
 
 {Exit WOLFORD. 
 
 =Oh ! my sweet darling, ihy mother's sins descended on thee. I 
 could weep my very soul out, if that would give thee back thy 
 virgin purity. Thy soul has gone to thy Eedeemer. 
 
 Nora. Mamma ! 
 
 Cath. Not dead I Oh ! that thou hadst not seen thy mother's 
 ^ace again. 
 
 Nora. Dear mamma, give me thy forgiveness e'er I die. 
 
 Cath. Alas ! Thou hast it, Nora. 'Tis I should ask thee thy for- 
 ;giveness. Tkou knowest not thy mother's shama 
 
 Enter Minnard, clothed in the iJouTt dress o/" a nobleman. 
 
 Mhu To be a nobleman ! My wealth and my life's work are 
 "worthy of it. To what high station have I not attained. Yet on 
 to-morrow shall all things be completed. Why should I not try 
 on my dress and wear my sword in this my garden, unperceived by 
 .any one. [Sees Catherine, who has turned toward him on her 
 knees, as if in a traRce.] Catherine here! My wife, and on her 
 knees. What meazis this strange proceeding ? 
 
 CatL Coald nt^ high heaven have spared to my burning soul 
 this last exhibit ? 
 
 Mm. Why art thou in this plight ; thy eyes all blood-shot and 
 4;hy face with such strange marks vipon it ? Up, wife ? Knowest 
 :thou that on to-morrow thou shalt be a duchess ? 
 
 Cath. To-night my vilest soul shall be in helh ' 
 
 Min. Thou art gone mad ! Some demon possesses thee. 
 
 ■Cath. Naj'; touch me not, lest thou too be defiled. 
 
 31in. Defiled ? Do my ears hear rightly, or am I in a dream ? 
 
 ■■Cath. 0, would to God thou wert ! 
 
 3Iin. Catherine, throw off this deep demeanor. Have I wronged 
 thee, that thou shouldst so treat me ? 
 
 Cath. Yes, past all forgiveness, that thou shouldst have one gen- 
 tle pitying look for me. 
 
 Min. Forgive me, darling wife, if I hav<e e'er done aught but 
 love thea For ever since I took thee as my wife, my pledge to 
 honor thee has ne'er been broken. 
 
 Cath. Oh! pity; have some pity, else will my soul be damned be- 
 fore I die. 
 
 Min. Poor dear, some complaint to which thy sex is wedded has 
 o'erthrown thy reason. Come, let me take thee in these arms that 
 ever will protect thee from all harm, and when thy body has from the 
 all-refreshing night drawn rest, the morning will return to thee thy 
 sound strength. (Seeing Nora.) What, Nora ! and prostrate on 
 the earth! What foul crime is this that has, with one fell blow, 
 
36 
 
 bereft my wife of reason and stricken my gentle daughter like a dall 
 cold corpse upon the ground? Speak! Unloose thy tongue, or, by 
 the gods, I will disown thee as my wife! 
 
 Cath. Alas!' I know not how to speak; I only know I am the 
 vilest mortal on this earth. Oh ! thou who wert my husband, to 
 ask thee to forgive me were to outrage heaven. Unslieath thy 
 sword and kill me, who has brought dishonor on thee. 
 
 M'ln. A foul suspicion creeps into my unwilling mind. Cathe- 
 rine, hast thou betrayed thy marriage vows ? 
 
 Cath. Oh, kill me, Wallace, kill me! 
 
 Min. Not till i\vj heart uugorges it foul secret. 
 
 Cath. 'Twas the dazzling genius of thy false friend that blinded 
 me to all my duty. Think not that I attempt excuses. False traitor^ 
 Wolford, he it was who robbed thee of thy wife, and, uncontented 
 still, sacked the pure virtue of thy only child. Here lies she dead 
 by her own hand, and so I end my worthless life. [Stabs herself.] 
 
 Min. Stand I so ? Can I do naught biit feast my ej-es upon de- 
 struction? Where is thy manhood, Minnard? Unsheath thy sword^ 
 that never yet knew human blood, nor scabbard it again till with 
 the blood of doubly-false Wolford it is covered. [Exit Miknard. 
 
 Enter Wolfoed. 
 Wol. She forbade me see her die, but placed no interdiction on 
 a view of lifeless flesh. Now 1 can look upon thee, dumb, coldy 
 spiritless body, and my abhorred form be seen not hj thee. This i» 
 the richest desolation that I ever saw. Why, I could see the grave- 
 yards of the world plowed up, and dead men piled as high as heaven; 
 could look upon a field of battle strewn with dead, or — still, 
 more awful— dying; could gaze upon the sufiering of hell: and my 
 gross appetite for crime be only whetted. But this dire scene^ 
 thwarting my inclination, somewhat troubles me. That little drop 
 of pity which long years of sin has covered over with a deep, hard, 
 heavy coating, bursts its bounds, and my boyish spirit like a flood 
 comes over me. Oh! now I wish you were not dead, and that my 
 life had been less badly spent. Catherine, I know now that I loved 
 thee. Thou hadst a great nature that close fitted mine. Thy being 
 was a strange commingling of strengih and weakness. Thy greatest 
 quality was love. It led thee on to deeds of charity and greatest 
 kindness, and it led thee to thy doom. (Louling at 2\^ora.) If I 
 could know remorse, I think that it would overwhelm me when I 
 look on yonder sight. But such a feeling is beyond my nature. If 
 my repentance could put life into thy pretty, childish form, I would 
 repent — aye, so I do, though 'tis a worthless task. 
 
 Enter GJiost of icoman with child in her arms. 
 To longer look upon thee would break my manhood down and un- 
 prepare me for my other work. To-morrow the crown is to be played 
 for, and I must away. {Turns to go and is confronted hy the ghost.) 
 What form from hell is this ? 
 
 Ghost. Thou once didst know me, traitor. 
 
 Wol. Thou liest. All knowledge of thee I disclaim. 
 
 Ghost. Why, Wolford, now thou speakest like one who would 
 
37 
 
 throw off the memory of some past crime. Disclaim J 'Tis a wis© 
 course, though any fool might take it. Disclaim! Say thou hast 
 forgot, Damn thy memory a thousand times each day when it 
 recurs to thee! Disclaim! disclaim! disclaim! doth it so greatly 
 help thy memory to forget me? Then, since thy memory is a desert, 
 I'll burst upon it like a water-spout and fill all its dried-up rivers to 
 o'erflowing. Thou didst murder me! 
 
 Wal. I did not murder thee. 
 
 Ghost. Not as a highwayman shoots his victim dead ; nor as a 
 midnight robber, with a noiseless blow, crushes the skull of him he'd 
 rob ; nor as a burglar, crept thou to my couch with slow and noise- 
 less tread, sinking a dagger in my heart ; nor yet with nerve- 
 destroying poison, as thou didst send thy wife to heaven, a short 
 hour ago. With none of these base and cold-blooded, yet quick 
 death means didst thou take me off. But thou didst murder me a 
 million times ere thou wouldst let me die. Know me not yet by 
 this( description of my murder? 'Tis no wonder, since thou hast 
 done so many ! Dost thou require my name ? then I will give it 
 thee. I am Florence Morton— "sweet Flora," as thou used to call 
 me when with honey words thou didst embalm my heart. 
 
 {Enter the ghosts of a man and woman behind WolFord.] 
 
 Wol. Oh ! let me go from this accursed place. [As he turns he 
 confronts ghosts.] 
 
 Ghost of man . Ho ! villain, thy path for once is blocked. 
 
 Wol. Make way or I will kill thee. 
 
 Ghost of man. Thou didst that years ago. We are the husband 
 and the -wife that thou didst tear asunder on this earth, come back 
 to haunt thy way and make thee die a thousand deaths of fear. 
 
 [Enter ghost o/" Miriam Wolford, with an orange in her hand.] 
 
 Wol. I will get out of this damned hole ! [Turns to fee and is 
 confronted by ghost of his tvife.] 
 
 Ghost. It is an orange of a very peculiar kind, from South Amer- 
 ica. Will you eat it? You will find it very sweet, but therein 
 lies its peculiar excellence. 
 
 Wol. Furies of hell, art thou turned loose upon me ? [Exeunt 
 ghosts.] Give me more blood ! My soul calls out for blood ! Cxive 
 me a battle — a million 'gainst me— that I may drown myself in 
 gore ! I'll be a king spite of all gods and men — a king more bloody 
 than was e'er writ of. 
 
 CURTAIN, 
 
38 
 
 A C T Y. 
 
 Scene 1 — Washington — A Boom, 
 
 Enter Brandon and General Shelborn. 
 
 Bra. Are you sure, Shelborn, you have everything prepared ia 
 your department ? 
 
 Shel Have no fear for the army. It will obey the commands of 
 its chief officer. 
 
 Bran. But have you studied well to know on what officers of 
 under-rank you can depend ? Af e you sure there are no traitors in 
 your council ? 
 
 Shel. None that 1 have approached. I have only spoken to those 
 inferior officers upon whom I could with certainty depend. For the 
 obedience of the rest, the commands of their chief shall stand spou- 
 ser. 
 
 Bran. What say you to the valiant Pitsborough ? Is he of com- 
 mon mind with us ? 
 
 Shel. I have not broken the matter to him. I was afraid ke 
 would not listen to it with a willing ear. 
 
 Bran. I like the General well, and he has always shown regard 
 for me. Yet I am by no means certain of him. He is a man of 
 most predominate influence with the army. The soldiers swear by 
 him. He could work mighty mischief, and the thought grows on 
 me that he is no good man to have against us. Have you done any- 
 thing to counteract his force in case he turns against us ? 
 
 Shd. I have not waited for liim to show himself against us, but, 
 so to speak it, have nipped him in the bud; given strict orders for - 
 his imprisonment with the issuance of the first Imperial proclama- 
 tion. 
 
 Bran. A wiser course could not have been pursued. Listen, 
 Shelborn! Since we have undertaken this enterprise, stop not at 
 trifles in its accomplishment. Make his imprisonment death, if 
 necessary, and so with all others hke him. Have you massed all 
 the army here in Washington ? 
 
 Shel. Every available man. 
 
 Bran. And you have at your command ? 
 
 Shel. Twenty thousand, besides officers. 
 
 Bran. If they obey commands, it is enough to put down any 
 rabble. Shelborn, upon the first day's work depends our enter- 
 prise. Losing it, I would not give a farthing for our chances ; gain- 
 ing it, have no fear for the morrow. And thus you see, success 
 hangs on your shoulders. Do well your part, and you shall be 
 General-in-Chief of all our armies. And, mark you, Shelborn, they 
 shall not be the striplings they now are, but mighty legions, against 
 which the world could not contend. And with this high position, 
 thou shalt have supplemented a Dukedom. Fear not at using 
 force ! Let r.ot blood deter you. What were a river of the red 
 atuif to our future greatness. Men must die, anyway. Forget not 
 the full force and eflect of grape-shot. Nothing so cures a mob as 
 
39 
 
 well-directed shots of grape. Go now, I pray you, to the head- 
 quarters of the army, and when the inauguration's over, fill the 
 streets with troops, surround the capitol, where we shall be, and 
 strike terror where opposition shows itself. {Exit Shel. ) 
 
 My star has never dimmed. Yet would my mind feel more at 
 ease if tliat great dream had but concluded differently. What, 
 Brandon, wouldst thou be deterred by phantasies ? 
 Enter Wolford. 
 
 My brave companion, my great advisor, my more than brother, 
 good morning to you. 
 
 Wol. If it is not too soon, how fares Your Majesty? 
 
 Bran. Ah ! Clarence, thou needst never call me majesty ; nor 
 need thy tongue to me speak any title ; nor bend thy knee nor bow 
 thy head before me ; nor pay me homage ; nor do any act to indi- 
 cate I am above thee. In all respects thou art my perfect equal. 
 We'll be a double king ; and I shall lean on thee as a maiden on her 
 lover, and ask thy counsel in every act. Call me but Mentor, as in 
 times gone by ; and to me make thy approaches as a friend to one 
 he loves and fears not. Then if in all my kingdom there is aught 
 that thou woulst have — any high title or honorable position — take 
 it without my leave, for I have given it thee already. 
 
 Wol. There is a time when gratitude reaches beyond the power 
 of words ; when it becomes a silent and unspeakable feeling of the 
 soul, I have heard it said that love exists only between man and 
 woman. But 'tis a lie ! For never did man love woman, nor wo- 
 man man, as I love thee. My affection for thee is deep-rooted, like 
 a mighty mountain, and neither storm nor flood can move it. It 
 is as wide as the great ocean. 
 
 Bra. No mountain, even were it made of solid gold, nor the 
 great ocean, holds dearer treasures than my love holds thine. 
 
 Wol. I thank thee, Mentor, for thy kind expression ; and since 
 thou wilt not let me call thee by any name becoming the royal 
 purple of thy station, then will I call thee brother, that my bonds 
 of fealty may be twice strengthened. 
 
 Bi-a. 'Tia a dear name, and well I like to hear thee call me such. 
 But, Clarence, if I am not too slow of speech to say it now, I 
 thought I saw a greater look of care upon thy face than there was 
 wont to dwell upon it. A lesser friend might not have noticed it. 
 What is it, Clarence ; hast thou had some trouble ; left you New 
 York last night ? 
 
 Wol. 'Tis nothing, brother, unless perhaps the coming of this 
 most momentous occasion has caused me loss of sleep in thinking 
 how I might better serve thee. 
 
 Bra. My noble friend ! And hast thou any great advice to 
 tender me this morning ? W^hat are thy thoughts ? 
 
 Wol. This shall most likely be a bloody day. 
 
 Bra. But^one renowned in history. 
 
 Wol. Doubly would it be renowned if without blood our end 
 could be accomplished. 
 
 Bra. Why, so it would; yet we can scarcely hope for that. The 
 quick announcement of our strong determination will doubtless 
 
40 
 
 cause excitement. Some rattle-brained idiot will cry * 'To arms ! '' 
 and a street struggle will ensUe between our royal army and the 
 rabble. 
 
 Wol. Have you reckoned on a course if the army should be 
 overcome, or, what is worse, desert you? 'Tis an unpleasant 
 thought, I know, yet sometimes the course of wisdom is not through 
 Andalusian arbors. 
 
 Bra. Such contingencies have occurred to me. Indeed, they 
 have been dunning me constantly, and demanding my answer ; but 
 like a disagreeable creditor, I have been putting them off until it 
 were no longer the part of statesmanship to do so. Mean as are 
 these possibilities, let us meet them squarely face to face. What 
 Wouldst thou suggest, Wolford ? 
 
 Wol. A remedy most easy. Knowest thou the course that's 
 most direct to the common heart ? 
 
 Bran. Why, now, I think I'll take thy answer. 
 Wol. The road runs without by-ways from the pocket. 
 Bran. And still I think I do not fully understand thee. 
 Wol. This nation's saddled with an enormous debt, which, twist 
 and turn it as you may, the poor man pays. 
 
 Bran. That it is, rather than that it should be so, I think, ia 
 true political economy. 
 
 Wol. For many years the public clamor has gone up for riddance 
 from this debt. 
 
 Bran. And so the people should be rid of it, 
 Wol. It is now owing to a few men, who, by the foulest means, 
 have merged it in themselves, that they may live in luxury, while 
 the people starve to pay them. 
 
 Bran. Too true! Too true! But how shall thia assist in the 
 maintenance of our position ? 
 
 Wol. Wouldst thou be a popular as well as a great king ? 
 Bran. Right well I'd like the approbation of my subjects. 
 Wol. Then mark me this! When the rabble howls against thee 
 to-day; screeches of liberty o'erthro^ai; of freedom buried; when 
 demagogues from every public place, with hair disheveled and arms 
 thrown wildly out, tell of our great forefathers' blood that was poured 
 out upon the fields of Lexington and Bunker's Hill, and by such means 
 attempt to raise the masses 'gainst thee — 'if thou wouldst turn their 
 bitter curses into sweet words of praise for thee, and hear them 
 shout: Long live the King! Long live Ulysses! issue, as thy first. 
 Imperial stroke, this edict: The Government is changed, and the 
 debt of the old Government is abolished! 
 
 Bran. Thy argument sounds well. But would not such a course 
 bring down dishonor both upon the nation and myself ? 
 
 Wol. Where is that love, which, but a moment since, came so 
 like molten lava from thy heart, if thou dost think I would advise 
 thee to thy own dishonor ? 
 Bran, Forgive me, Clarence; I know thou would'st not. 
 Wol. Now, thou speakest like my brother. As to the nation, 
 there shall no longer be a nation. That which was shall be thy 
 kingdom, thy imperial realm, and rests there any obligations on thee 
 to pay the debts thy uncle left in dying ? 
 
41 
 
 Bran. My worthiest counsellor, thy course shall be adopted. 
 
 Wol. 'Tis thy course, Brandon, not mine. I would have thee 
 have all the honor of it; therefore, speak of it to no man, till after 
 thou hast done it, and then the people will hold up their hands and 
 say, Behold the wisdom and the justice of our king! 
 
 Bran. Thou would'st sacrifice anything for me, Clarence. Now 
 that I cast my eye across the plain of our great undertaking, as we 
 near the Mecca, I see thou hast made thyself a dray-horse for me. 
 Had it not been for thee 1 would have stalled in the sands before I 
 started, I can never pay thee for all thy help. 
 
 Wol. No more! no more! 
 
 Bran. Then wait thee here till our great coadjutors come, while 
 I attend for a little while some personal preparations for the great 
 event. {Exit Bran.] 
 
 Wol. My horse is saddled and my armor's on; now will he ride 
 me swiftly to the crown. Come, thou sweet money instruments, 
 till I attune thee to accord with me. 
 Enter Randemer, Starlow, an Admiral, and a number of others. 
 
 Good morning, my lords, dukes, earls, viscounts, barons, mar- 
 quises, to be. How fare ye all on this great gala day ? Upon a 
 fairer day than this the sun ne'er shone, and in the eve go down 
 upon a royal throne! 
 
 Ran. Our friend seems in a royal mood this morning. 
 
 Wol. And why should I not be, when all the signs are so propi- 
 tious ? Does the farmer sigh at a bright day in haying-time ? 
 
 Ran. Rather I would ask: Does a railroad man cry when the 
 Legislature adjourns ? 
 
 Wol. I admit the simile is a better one. But now to the matters 
 of the times. This day is likely to be one that will try men's souls. 
 Are you sure of all the railroads ? 
 
 Ran. Have no fear for them. 
 
 Wol. What say you of the navy, my Lord Admiral ? 
 
 Admiral. I may say you need have no fear of that, either; it is 
 very harmless. 
 
 Wol. The army, under General Shelborn is ours — so, what need 
 we fear ? Our ends are all accomplished before we begin. 
 
 Star. Why, so they are. Most largely owing to our great advi- 
 ser, head-and -front, Wolford. 
 
 Wol. The noble Earl of California flatters me! Why do we 
 want this change of government ? Why do we want a king ? Can 
 you tell me, Starlow? 
 
 Star. In few words. I want no more of rabbles; no more strikes; 
 no more talk of confiscation; no more blackmailing. In short, I 
 want my property protected. 
 
 Wol. Quite rightly answered. And what say you, Randemer? 
 
 Ran. In addition to what my friend from California says, I want 
 to feel that I can go to bed at night and wake up in the morning 
 without feeling that, in the meantime, a law has been passed pro- 
 hibiting the payment of my Government bonds — or, what is just as 
 bad, paying them in greenbacks. 
 
 Wol. So you are right. This is the idea predominant : Stability 
 
42 
 
 in property rights; Jibove all tlie prompt and faithful payment of 
 the principal and interest of our national debt. In other words, 
 the maintenance of our country's honor unspotted. A king who 
 "Would not do this is worse than no king at alL 
 
 Ran. For my part, I'd raise my hand as quickly to dethrone him 
 as I now do to set up noble Brandon. 
 
 Wol. Most noble Brandon ! (Aside.) Most noble Brandon. 
 
 BoENE 2. — A street in Washington, A numher of Citizens around a 
 bulletin-board. 
 
 Enter General Pitsborough. 
 
 Pits, I wonder what means all this excitement? Some great 
 ©vent must have happened. 1 will see. [Goes up to board.] A 
 proclamation ! Can I believe my eyes ? Brandon has proclaimed 
 himself Emperor I This is no time for thoughts, but actions. 
 Citizens, know you what that means ? Are you struck dumb ? 
 • Cit. What does it mean ? I cannot see to read it. 
 
 Pits. What does it mean ? That you are no longer sovereigns, 
 but subjects; no longer freemen, but slaves ; that liberty is dead j 
 that ye have a king, that Brandon has proclaimed himself Emperor! 
 To arms, citizens, to arms, and let no traitor live I iledeem your 
 land from tyrants ! By your blood redeem it ! 
 
 Cits. To arms 1 To arms ! 
 
 Enter four guards. 
 
 1st Giiard. General Pitsborough, I have a warrant for your 
 arrest. 
 
 Pits. What villainy is, this ? {Snatches Warrant and reads.) "His 
 Royal Majesty, Ulysses I., Emperor of America, sends greeting." 
 His Royal Majesty, Ul3'sses I., Emperor, be damned! Take back 
 that greeting to him. Tell him I know him not. This is America, 
 my own free land, and my duty is to no sovereign save the Consti- 
 tlition and my country's Hag. {Grinds u'arrant under his feet.) 
 
 \st Guard. Help, guards ! take hold of him ; he destroys the war' 
 rant. {Guards take hold of PiTs. ) 
 
 Pits. Let go me, traitors, or, by the gods, I'll carve your hearts 
 out! {Draws his sv.iord, and^ while struggling with Guards—) 
 Enter Comjyany of U. S. Army, 
 
 Capt. What, ho 5 who dares to treat my senior thus ? {Bushes at 
 Guards ivith his sico7'd, ichen they let go of Pits, and flee. ) 
 
 Pits. I thank you, Captain. Which way go you with your com- 
 pany? Why are you here ? 
 
 Capt. Surely, I know not. General, save as an order bade me to 
 patrol the streets and quell all riots and disturbances. 
 
 Pits. Know you that Brandon has proclaimed himself Emperor ? 
 
 Offs. and Sols. What! 
 
 Pits. 'Tis so; there is the royal edict. And those fellows that 
 ye saw had a warrant for my arrest, signed by His Royal Majesty, 
 Ulysses I. 
 
 Capt. Outrageous! 
 
43 
 
 Pits. OB, ye old war-stained veterans! some of ye ftisrcKcd •^Hk 
 me under the stars and strij)es full many a thousand miles, braved 
 sickness, death and prison, to hold this country one. 
 
 Sols. So we did, General. 
 
 Pits. Marched ye to the cannon's belshing motitb; gave ye your 
 fathers, brothere, sons: left ye your nwthers, wives and sisters: did 
 ye all this to make a royal cradle of your country ? a bi-eeding-nest 
 for tyrants — a hatching-house for kings, and dukes- and earls ? 
 
 Sols. That we dkln't. 
 
 Pits. Loyal sons of freedom,, who never knew the tyranny of 
 kingly rule, for which will ye choose to tight — to make Brandon 
 Emperor, or for your homes., your libe-rty, and for your counti'y? 
 
 Sols. Home, liberty and country. 
 
 Pits, Then- follow me, and neither eat, nor drink, ncxr sleep, till 
 every traitor's head lies at your feet. Up, citizens!- Break opeit 
 armories, gzm-shops; bring ottt your arms and figbt, for liberty is 
 assaulted. Save it or die. On, to the eapital, where we may strike 
 the traitors! 
 
 {They start to- march, when enter General SHETLKmN, with a com- 
 pany of U. S. army.} 
 Shel. (to Pits,) Why are you here? There is a warrant for your 
 arrest. Arrest him, soldiers^ 
 Pits. Nay, arrest me not! 
 
 Shel. - Will yoci obey me, th^i ? 1 am ycmr senior. 
 Pits. Thou art- a traitor, and I know na senior now, save Gody 
 the Constitution and my flag. Charge, company. 
 
 [They fight off the stage.] 
 
 Enter an Olb Man, fMotced hj ckhens carrymg all soHs of arms. 
 
 Old Man. Full seventy years ago this guiv did serve me and my 
 country, Under Jackson, at Orleans. But this old palaied body 
 and flint-lock are not too old to flight for freedom yet. 
 Enter Comimny of U. S. Army. 
 
 Be ye loyal to- America, or fight ye for a- king:? 
 
 Capt. Long live the kingl 
 
 Old Man, Short life to ye! [Sbeots him. Fight be-tween Citi-- 
 zens and Soldiers.] 
 
 {Between the second and third scen.es the battle should be heard con-< 
 tinuously, and the scenery shifted with all possible despatch. 
 
 Scene 3 XVashington. A room in (he Capitol; present, Bbandots 
 
 as Emperoi\ in state costume, W^olford, RANDEMERy Starlow' 
 cmd others, dressed in the style of the present nobility of Europe^ 
 while at com't.. The noise of a battle rages without. 
 
 Enter an Aid- de-Camp. 
 
 Bran. What news Toring you from your General? 
 A id. That the battle i* still raging. 
 Ban. (to Aid.) Say Your Majesty I 
 Aid. Your Majesty! 
 
44 
 
 Bran. A deaf man would have known that. ^Vliat says he Of the 
 battle ? 
 
 Aid. That he is fighting with all his might. Your — Your Maj* 
 esty. 
 
 Bran. Fool! What said he of the result ? 
 
 Aid. That he was wounded four times, Your— Your Excellency 
 —Your Majesty, I mean. 
 
 Wol. How runs the battle, idiot ? 
 
 Aid. My Lord— Your Majesty — the General bid me say that 
 three-fourths of all the soldiers have deserted to Pitsborough, who 
 leads the patriots — I mean the rebels, and that the citizens have 
 possession of all the arms in the city, and that he cannot hold out 
 ten minutes longer, and for you to flee for your lives. 
 
 Bran. Go back to your General, and tell him that it is my roy- 
 al command that he fight it out on this line if it takes all summer. 
 
 Aid. (retiring—aside. ) I don't think it will take that long, Your 
 —your what-you-may-call-it-old-idiot! {Exit. 
 
 Wol. (to Brandon. ) Your Majesty will hear better news when 
 he you sent to tell of the abolition of the national debt, comes back . 
 Enter Messenger, with clothes torn. 
 
 Bran. Your looks import no good; but blurt it out. 
 
 Mess. Your Majesty, when I began to sj)eak to the citizens, they, 
 thinking that I was one of them., all gave attentive ear. But when 
 I told them what my mission was, and scattered the royal procla- 
 mation 'mongst them, they said: "What will he" — they used worse 
 terms. Your Majesty. 
 
 Bran. Damn the terms !— what said they ? 
 
 Mess. "What, will he not only steal the government, and rob us 
 of our liberties, but must he also blacken the nation's honor and re- 
 pudiate her debts ?" And then they fell^upon me, and I had to flee 
 for my life. 
 
 Ban. What is it I hear ? AVhat said you to them, that they 
 said this ? 
 
 Mess. My lord, when I proclaimed to the citizens, by order of 
 His Majesty, that the national debt had been abolished by His 
 Royal Majesty's imperial edict, it was then the citizens said as I 
 have told you. 
 
 Star. A royal edict abolishing the national debt .' Is this so, 
 your Majesty ? 
 
 Bran. It is, my noble lord. 
 
 Ran. Do you hear that, my lords ? What think you of it ? We 
 make a king that our property might be protected, and by his first 
 imperial act, save that the people stopped him, he would have 
 robbed us of half our wealth ! 
 
 Bran. Dare you speak of me in that manner ? I am the King 
 and my royal will is law. 
 
 Ran. Gods ! 1 like not that kind of a king. 
 
 Lords. Nor I ! Nor I ! 
 
 Ran. We will not have him, either ! We will have a king that 
 will protect our property. 
 
 Lords. We will not have him. 
 
45 
 
 Bran. My lords, silence ! I will have you call imprisoned. 
 
 Ra7i. Imprisoned? Where is your power? Down from that 
 royal station thou hast disgraced ! [Lords draw sicords and start 
 for Brandon.] Down, or we'll kill thee ! [Brandon comes doivn.} 
 
 Star. There is no time for parley. Let us select a King who 
 will be a King. Lord Wolford is my choice. 
 
 Ban. So is he mine ; he will protect our property. 
 
 Lords. And mine. 
 
 Ba7i. As there is no dissent. Lord Wolford, we hail thee as our 
 Majesty. 
 
 Bra. Would you, Clarence ? 
 
 Wol. If so it be the will of you, most noble gentlemen, that I 
 assume the heavy cares of state at this most pressing moment, I 
 consent. [Ascends throne.] 
 
 Bra. Oh, Wolford! if from all the millions of this earth I had 
 had but one choice of a friend, it had been thee. Alas 1 I care not 
 now for human glory. 
 
 Wol. My lords, all hope is not yet gone. If we can hold till 
 morning, great Maxwell and McDonald will be here with strong 
 legions. 
 
 Enter an Akl-de-camp. 
 
 Aid. Your Majesty, a message just received by General Shel- 
 bom, which he bade me give thee. 
 
 Wol. My Lord of California, will you read it ? [Aid gives to 
 Star.] 
 
 Star, [reads]. " Maxwell and McDonald both murdered by the 
 mob. " 
 
 Bra. Maxwell and McDonald dead I 
 
 Enter 3fessenger. 
 
 Mess. Your Majesty, Congress has hastily assembled and passed 
 a bill declaring all adherents to Brandon traitors, and confiscating 
 their property. 
 
 R. and S. Our railroads confiscated I 
 
 Enter Minnaed {clothes bloody and sword m hand.'[ 
 
 Wol. Where has your noble lordship been ? We have not seen 
 thee all day. 
 
 Min. Where I had hoped to find thee, villain. What ! art thou 
 on the throne ? Has thou murdered Brandon too ? 
 
 Wol. He has gone mad, my lords ; take charge of him ! 
 
 Min. Nay, touch me not. The first man dies who dares do so-. 
 ^Advancing on Wolford.) Fight now, thou murderous traitor; thou 
 false friend; thou cowardly betrayer of my wife and child! Fight, 
 or I'll put my sword through you. 
 
 Wol. Aw;>y, you petty idiot. I am the king. 
 
 Min. I care not if thou art king a million times. I'll have thy 
 blood. Wilt thou not draw thy sword ? Coward that tliou art^ 
 since thou'lt show no fight, I'll kill thee anyway. Take that (stabs 
 him), and that (stabs again). [Wolford dies. Hammering at the 
 door, and great confusion, both in and out of room.] 
 
 Me-"'. Two kings deposed within two minutes'. One king a min- 
 
46 
 
 Tata The royal stocTi will soon run out at that, Gods — I think 
 this is no good country for kings. They'll make me one next. I'll 
 go. [Exit Mess,] 
 
 Min. (to lords. ) Another minute more and the rabble will be 
 upon us. If ye be men, stand, tight and die! If ye be cowards, run 
 for your worthless lives. 
 
 [The door is broken in and Citizens and Soldiers rush in, hearing 
 upon a hayonei thA head of Shelborn. Savage shouts.} 
 
 1st Cit. Down with the traitors! 
 2d Cit. Oflf with their heads i 
 
 [RANDEivrER, Starlow and some of the lords attempt to escape, hut 
 are followed hy citizens and soldiers. Minnard, Brandon and 
 others fight ivith citizens and soldiers and are overpowered. Tht 
 citizens and soldiers who have folloioed Eandemer^ Starlow 
 and others return lollh heads of same on hayonets.] 
 
 Enter Old Man, wounded. 
 
 Old Man. Now can I die, since I have seen the severed lugads 
 of the last American nobility. [Dies.] 
 
 Enter General Pitsboeough. 
 
 Pits. Citizens, soldiers, patriots all : You have preserved your 
 sacred liberties. The spiiit of your fathers, in you, is not dead. 
 'Twas slumbering, but now 'tis roused to sleep no more. Nourish 
 it ; protect it while you live, and dying bequeath it to your chil- 
 dren as the richest legacy that you can leave them. (To the audi- 
 ence. ) Though this is but a dream of empire, to those with royal 
 aspirations let it also be a warning. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
JjIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 910 164 2 
 
 II