( i NO PLAYS^^ XCHANGEa v?' iCR'3 Edition or PLnY3 C455 16 Copy 1 IN THE TRENCHES m «n*»v»iaWT ««•© J»v WALTER M 9AKRR S CiO I A. W. PINERO'S PLAYSJ /k Uniformly Bound in Stiff Paper Covers, yjw /]\ Price, 50 cents each. ^ k >AW p.r,^.v5 P"^\'«f' o" «^ t^e plays Of this popular author, made feasible by the ne^y txS /1\ ^"Py^g^* Act under which his valuable stage rights can be fully protected >Iv i!; «"a^l««,»%to offer to amateur actors a series of modern pieces of the highest W i\X class, all of which have met with distinguished success in the leading English >ii W and American theatres, and most of which are singularly, well adapted for ama /IX >|V tear performance. This pub ication was originally intended for the benefit of A W readers only but the increasing demand for the pfays for acting purposes has /ft /i\ *^^0"t':"n their merely literary success. With the idea of placU.g this excel- ilv W ent series within the reach of the largest possible number of amatlur clubs, Nx^e /ft /ft alT^of "^ authority to offer them for acting purposes at au author's roy- ^Iv /ft Ten Dollars for Each Performance. >!w /■\ "^Y^^ ^^'^^ ^^^^ "^* apply ^-oproSessionai performances, for which terms will be iriW ^f.^ made known on application. o nin uc «^ 2\ '^♦^ ^^ THE AMAZONS. [ V%'^.^°lS^S\^2'-lt^^ tltZ''-^. f :x: I acters. Costumes, modern; scenerv an exterior wm\ "'•'' THE HOBBY HORSE J ^comedy in Three Acts. By Arthdb _^ I >^;PrNERo. Ten male, fi%'e female char- «n fJITZ I \ Z^. acters. Scenery, two interiors and an ex- ?Y'm tenor ; costumes, modern. This piece is best known in this country throueh the W ad.mrable performance of Mr John Hare, who produced it in all the pr Scipal JK t ..c.^^'i^K^'^P'''''*^.*',,'' clever satire of false philanthropy, and is f ul of W iterest and humor. Well adapted for amateurs, by whom itSxj^ been success. 3l- ^,r .Jlly acted. Plays two hours and a half. (1892.) i^aias ueen success- »i^ W'g LADY BOUNTIFUL. I i ^^^y in. Four Acts. By Arthur W. W —^ I PiNERO. Eight male and seven female char- s» I IN THE TRENCHES ! A DRAMA OF THE CUBAN WAR IN THREE ACTS By ABEL SEAMAN AUTHOR OF "BEHIND THE BARS," "HIS ONLY SON," "THE LATEST SCANDAL," ETC. BOSTON ^^.^.^^x4f><:^^^<^ ^ 1898 \ ^^\1J^ CA 55 1^ IN THE TRENCHES. I /'99*X!HARACTERS. Colonel Edwards, a hero of Santiago. John Davis, a New York capitalist. Patrick Green, known as " Pea Green," of the firm of Biilllieiuicr and Green, army contractors and general speculators. Moses Bullheimer, his partner. Paul Davis, afraid of everything but danger. Jose Estrada, a Spanish prisoner. Private Murphy, an American citizen. 'Rastus Cricket, another one— colored. Madame Valdoza, a wealthy Cuban widow. Nadina, her daughter and heiress. Rebecca Bullheimer, in pursuit of a husband, — this time her oiun. Soldiers, Spanish and American, Cuban Refugees, etc., ad libitum for tableaux. Copyright, i: BY Walter H. Baker & Co. 1 \> IN THE TRENCHES. ACT I. Scene. — A handso7ne interior. Doors R. and l.. Large win- dow c. in Jlat, overlooking street. Chair K.\ chair and table L. ; other furniture ad libitum, accordiiig to taste and cir- cumstances. Davis discovered, readifig a newspaper. Dav. {reading, l. chair). So, more troops ordered out to Cuba. Eh! What's this .? {Reads.^ " Will embark, and sail from New York on the twenty-eighth." That's to-day. Why, the loth are going, my friend Colonel Edwards' regiment — more slaughter — more American blood to be shed. Enter Cricket, l. ; card on salver. Cric. sah. Dav. Cric. Dav. Kunnel Edwards, sah, request de felic'ty for to see you, Show him up. Yas, sah. [Exit L. Ah ! Twenty years of age, when I was in Cuba, I little thought it would some day become a graveyard for my fellow countrymen. Enter Colonel Edwards,//^// regimentals, from l. Col. Ah ! Davis, how do you do } I suppose you have heard the news ? Dav. {shaking hands). Just reading it — so you are going to active service. Colonel ? Col. Yes, at the head of the brave fellows I have the honor to command, and the finest regiment in the country, sir, or out of it ; we sail to-day and — ha ! ha ! ha ! — and if we don't give the Spaniards a dressing, say that I've made a mistake, and it will be the first I ever did make. Dav. {sits, R. C). You never make mistakes, eh, Colonel ? Col. {sits, l. c). Never, sir, never made a mistake in my life. But I've called to say good-bye, and to ask you, as an old friend, 3 4 IN THE TRE.NXHES. to take charge of this packet for me, and if I fall, I want you to break the seal, read the contents, and act upon them. Dav. But your lawyer ? Col. I have no lawyer. I hate a lawyer almost as I do a Spaniard. Dav. But why hate the Spaniards so ? Col. Why, now, look you, Davis, I think that you are an honest man, and as I am never wTong, you may take my word for it. You are, now don't deny it — I've said you are, and you are. You ask me why I hate the Spaniards, and hang it, sir, I'll tell you. When I was a young man I held a commission under the Spanish Government to conduct some engineering operations in Cuba. I wns introduced to the house of the Gov- ernor-General, and being a good-looking fellow — — Dav. Then ! Col. Then ! Yes. I soon made my way into the best society. Among my acquaintances was a certain Spanish noble- man, of high rank, with whose daughter I fell in love, and who returned my affection. Dav. You were fortunate. Col. Was I ? You shall judge for yourself. We were both aware that her father would refuse his consent to our marriage. Dav. Well ; and what did you do ? Col. Did without it. We were secretly married. And for six months I thought I was in Heaven, only to awaken one morning to find myself in the other place ; for my wife's mother discovered our marriage, and I was sent to prison, Dav. You ? an American ? Col. Yes. For I was made the victim of a trumped-up charge. I will not describe to you my sufferings at the hands of these Spanish devils ; how I was starved and tortured, till the limit of human endurance was nearly reached. But terrible as were my sufferings, I could have borne them with a stout heart, but for the bitter knowledge that the wife I so loved, the wife for whom I would have died a thousand times, was the author of my misfortune. [Crosses, R., a^ici back to L. Dav. Your wife ? Surely you are mistaken ! Col. No ; for a letter in that packet placed it beyond a doubt. Tired of her lover, regretting a husband who was a bar to her ambition, she obtained the annulment of our marriage and my condemnation. Dav. But how did you obtain your freedom ? Col. In company with two others, we made a desperate at- tempt to escape. My two companions were killed, and I alone succeeded. And after tortures, the recollection of which even now will make me shudder, I at length reached home again. Dav. Where, of course, you obtained redress ? IN THE TRENCHES. 5 Col. Where, of course, I obtained nothing- of the kind. I tried hard, but in vain, for then, as now, the principal commodity m a Government office was red tape. And now that we are ordered out to Cuba, can you wonder that I rejoice ? Can you wonder that the bare thought of charging into the midst of their savage hordes, and dealing out defeat and death, tires every energy of heart and soul, and makes me young again ? Dav. When do you embark ? Col. To-day. You will take charge of the packet, Davis, and keep it as a sacred trust ; and if I should fall in the campaign, you will undertake my responsibilities ? Dav. I promise you. [Shakes hands. Noise of laughter outside ; Davis goes up, c. Col. Who's that ? Day. {looking out window to L.). My son and two lady friends of his ; they are coming here. Col. Ladies ! I'm off — I'm noiadies' man. Dav. {crossing, L.). Well, come into my snuggery and have a glass of wine. Col. Who are the ladies ? Dav. Well ! ahem — a Spanish lady and her daughter. Col. Spanish ! Confound it ! it's bad enough to be a woman, but a Spanish woman ■ Dav. Shall I introduce you ? Col. Introduce vie? No. But how is it Paul is not with his regiment ? Dav. Because he resigned his commission, directly this Cuban war was talked of. Col. Resigned ! That looks like cowardice. Dav. His excuse is that he doesn't like the drilling, and hates the fighting. Col. The covk^ard ! Dav. But the fact is, he is in love with this Spanish girl — who hasn't a penny, I am told — and has actually refused to marry my friend Milford's daughter, who has sixty thousand dollars. I think I am justly angry with him, but come indoors. \Laiig liter outside. Col. It's bad enough to hate fighting — but to love a Span- iard — hang it ! Come in or I shall lose my temper. [Exit, R., witJi Davis. Enter Paul, %vith Madame Valdoza and Nadina, laughing, L. Mad. V. And you pretend you are a coward ? Paul. I confess it — I have not the courage of a mouse. 6 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ Mad. V. And you have resigned youu commission. What did your father say ? Paul. A great deal. Mad. V. Complimentary, of otherwise? Paul. Oh, otherwise. Nad. Oh ! you are no coward. Paul. How do you know ? Nad. Because no woman could love a coward. Paul. Do you love me ? Nad. No, no, but if you are a coward — why, just now, when the sudden squall nearly capsized our yacht, you acted with a coolness, courage, and presence of mind that saved our lives. Paul. That wasn't courage — it was the fear of an accident. I am too fond of living to lose my life. Nad. Yes. but wdien my horse took fright, and was gallop- ing over the cliffs, and you, at the risk of your being trampled to death, seized and stayed him, you did not seem to prize your life much then. Paul. Because my life without yours would be valueless. I am fond of life, because I am young — have health and hope ; I love the broad and open sea — the green fields — the v/aving trees — the broad expanse of sky and breezy air. The world with me is filled with life and beauty, but without you its light and sunshine would be gone. [Mad, V. lip stage, L., drops down, R. Mad. V. Ahem ! Where is your father, Mr. Davis ? Paul. I will fetch him for a reward. Nad. And what is that 1 Paul. That rosebud. Nad. It is yours. {Gives it.) You will not give it away ? Paul. No. Nad. Nor exchange it ? Paul. Only for one thing on earth more precious. Nad. And what is that ? Paul. Yourself. [Exit, R. Mad. V. Nadina 1 That man loves you. Nad. Does he ? Mad. V. You know he does. Nad. I know something more. Mad. V. And what is that ? Nad. I love him. Mad. V. Nadina ! Be warned in time — such an attachment cannot but lead to disappointment and unhappiness. Nad. But why ? Mad. V. Mr. Davis tells me that he is to marry Miss Mil- ford, an heiress with sixtv thousand dollars. IN THE TRENCHES. *J Nad. And Paul tells me he would not marry her if she had ten times sixty thousand dollars. Mad. V. Nadina ! Have you ever had to doubt my desire ^for your welfare, my love for you ? ^^^I^A Never ! never ! ^^^^n. V. Then for reasons which you some day may learn, ^^^ any growing attachment for Paul Davis ere it be too late. Nad. I'm afraid it is too late. Re-enter Paul luiih Mr. Davis, from r. Dav. {shaking hands). Delighted to see you — this is indeed a pleasure. \^Crossing, c. Mad. V. It v/ill be a last one, Mr. Davis, for we have come to say good-bye. In a few days we shall return to Cuba. Paul. Impossible ! The war. Mad. V. {crosses, r. C). Your countrymen, Mr. Davis, do not war with women. Dav. But the danger ? Mad. V. {looking at Nadina and Paul). There may be greater danger if we remain. Dav. {aside ; goes tip, R.). I can see her motive. Paul {aside to Nadina). I must pack up my things. Nad. You — what for ? Paul. To go to Cuba. Nad. To Cuba ! — why ? Paul. Because you are going. Enter Cricket, l. Cric. Dey is two gemmun at de front door as wants to see Missy Valdoza. "One is a for'n gemmun, an' de other's Irish. Mad. V. To see me 1 Strange ! Cric. Dey say dey took de liberty ob coming here after you, 'cos deir business was 'portant. Dav. Then see them here. {To Cricket.) Admit them. Cric. Yas, sah. [Exit, l. Dav. {to Nadina and Paul). Will you walk round the garden with me, while your mother sees these gentlemen ? Nad. With pleasure. Dav. This way. [Exit, R. Paul {taking Nadina 's arjn). I prefer this. [Exit, l. Enter Green and Bullheimer, l. ; they bow to Nadina as she goes off. Green. A foine gurl ! Bull. Hang the girl ! Green. Hang the girl ! Hang yourself. Bull. I von't hang myself. 8 IN THE TRENCHES. , Green. Worse luck ! Bull. Ish dot so ? Green. Ves. But I forgive you. {Offers hajtd.) Shake ! Bull. I accept your abolog-y. [^They shake hands, and come down^ Green. I ax your pardon, ma'am, for this intrusion. Mad. V. Your business, sir ? Green. My business — I may say, our business, for we are the firm of BuUheimer and Green Bull. Contractors und financial agents. Green. And moy business is joost this. A Mr. Manuel Romero Mad. V. My brother ! Green. Has a large estate in Eastern Cuba which he wishes to sell, and which moy partner and mesilf intend to buy ; and we wish to know from you if he has the roight to do so. Mad. V. If I understand you rightly, my brother, Manuel Romero, has offered to sell the Romero estate, and you are likely to become its purchasers ? Green. Yis, ma'am. That's what. Bull. But before ve buy, of course ve vant to inqvire into the title. Now here is a copy of the vill of your fader — a strange vill. Green. A moighty strange will. He must have been • Bull. Out of his filbert. Green. The gintleman manes — off his nut. Mad. V. {crossing, L.). My brother has no right to sell the Romero estate, for it is the property of my child. Bull. But by this vill your fader bequeaths the estate to your child, should it be a son ; but it a daughter, the property reverts to your bruder. You haf but von child. Mad. V. You are right, sir. Bull. That is a daughter. Conseqvently, the property goes to your bruder. Mad. V. No, sir, but to my son. Green. A son ! Ye have but wan child, and that is a daughter. How can ye have a son ? Mad. V. {crosses, C). Listen to me, sir. You would pur- chase this estate, and it is only an act of common justice to tell you why I dispute my brother's right to it. Green. Roight you are, ma'am. Mad. V. When but a mere girl, I was married to a young American, but without the consent or knowledge of my family. That marriage was discovered, and by the influence of my mother, my husband was separated from me, and died a few months afterwards. Shortly before the birth of my child, my father was seized with a mortal illness, and upon his death-bed IN THE TRENCHES. 9 sent for and forgave me. He died in my arms, leaving the will to which you allude, bequeathing the estate to my child, should it prove a male, and to my brother should it prove a female. A few weeks after, the child was born. Green. I see — a female gurrl 1 Mad. V. No, sir, a boy — and the just and rightful heir to the Romero estate. Green. But how can a boy in Spain be a gurrl in America ? Mad. V. Because, sir, that young lady is only my adopted daughter. I am very reluctant to speak upon the subject, but my duty compels me. Now, sir, when my child was born, I knew that my brother intended to destroy its life if a boy ; and when it proved to be a son, to save its life I caused it to be changed with that of ^friend's, who gave birth to a female child at about the same time. \^Crossi)ig, L. Bull, {aside to Green). Just vot ve were told. Ve must be careful. Green. But your son — where is he now ? Is he living or did ? If living, the eshtate is his ; if did, your brother can sill the property to us. Mad. V. With the necessary proof of his identity, he was confided to a Spaniard, named Jose Estrada, who, however, most shamefully betrayed his trust. Green. And killed the child .? Mad. V. Such, I believe, was his intention ; but I have dis- covered that my boy was saved, and brought to America. Green. But, begorra, where is he ? Mad. V. That I have to discover. But I have told you suffi- cient ; and I warn you that if you purchase this property, it will be at your own risk. Good-morning. [Bows, and exit, R. Green. Bull, me frind, what shall we do ? Bull. V^ait, and keep our eyes open. The estate is a fine property which Romero sells, firstly, because his title to it isn't good, and secondly, because it is near the seat of war. Green. Oh ! If we can only find out for sure if this child is did or alive, there is a splendid fortune for us. Bull. Yes. How can we find out ? Green. I say, if Bull. And I say, how ? [This is worked np, repeated to climax. They appear about to strike each other and then shake hands. Same business throtigh drama. Green. Oh, go to the divil ! Bull. Hush ! Some one coming. Green. Who is it ? Bull. It's the young lady. Green. W^ho is that with her ? Adhere ? The more I run away from her, the [Exit, R. I E. 10 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ Bull. Young Davis, her sweetheart, I suppose. Green. Ah ! She makes me heart jump. Oh, if she was mine ! I — quick, here, into this room. Bull. And keep our eyes and ears open Green. — loike a couple of damned spies. Bull. By chiminy ! I vos no spy ! Green. Oh, yis ye are. But I forgiv^e ye. Shake ! Bull. I accept your abology. {They shake hands. Green {as they are going, R.). Ah ! There's the gurrl that I love. Bull, {looking off, C. to L.). Und there is the voman that I fear — my vife. Green. Your v/ife ? Bull. Coming here, harder she runs after me. Green, Ah ! The woman that I love ! Enter Mrs. Bullheimer, l. Green. Fat, fair, and forty ! [Exit, R. i E. Mrs, Bullheimer, coming down with Cricket. Mrs. B. Is my husband a phantom ? Here I have come all the way from Milwaukee to New York. I could have sworn I saw him, and he slips through my fingers like an eel. Here's half a dollar for you. Where's Mr. Bullheimer 1 Cric. Well, you see, missy, I can't prezakly tell you where he is, 'cos I don't know — and any further information is a extra charge, Mrs. B. Here is a quarter. Cric. What you want him for ? Mrs. B. What does a woman want her husband for ? He's run away and left me, and a beautiful home in Milwaukee, with the rent unpaid, the bills to pay, the gas and the water cut off. Cric. Den I should cut off, too, Mrs. B. But I'd forgive him everything, if he didn't pretend that I was false to him. Cric. Did he now ? But really I can't spare time to listen — I want to see the sogers, and Mrs. B. Here's another quarter. Cric. Thank you, missy. Mrs. B. Yes, he came home tipsy at three o'clock in the morning, drank up every drop of liquor in the house, broke up the furniture, and accused me of having — of having Cric. Got tipsy you'self ? Mrs. B. No ! Of having been too friendly with the plumber — but it's false, and if I find him, I'll Who's in that room ? {Pointing R. i E. IN THE TRENCHES. H Cric. Nobody, missy, nobody. Mrs. B. Here's a half-dollar to tell me where my husband is. [As Mrs. Bullheimer's dac^ is turned, Bullheimer appears at R. i E., and holds up two half-dollars. Cric. Right ! I ain't seen you' husband. (Bullheimer points off L.) But if you come with me dis way, you'll find him, Mrs. B. I mean to. Cric Dis way. Mrs. B. I will ; if I go to the wilds of Russia, the plains of South America, go up the North Pole, or down the steppes of Tartary, I'll find him, and when I do, I'll — I'll Cric. What ? Mrs. B. What ? Are you a married man ? Cric. No, missy. Mrs. B. Then I'd rather not tell you. [Exit, L. Cricket turns and takes two half-dollars from Bullheimer. Cric. Thank you, sah. Bull. Tell her you think I've gone to Jericho, or Kams- chatka. Cric. Right you are, massa. [Exit, l. Paul and Nadina enter nr/n in arm, L. i e. ; Nadina sits, R. chair; Paul leans over her. Nad. And you would follow me to Cuba ? Paul. Aye ! and to the end of the world. Nadina, don't go back to Cuba, stay in America and become my wife. Nad. Your wife ? Paul. Yes, my wife, for I love you — love you more than it is in words to express. You have brought the light and sunshine in my life, and the most waste and barren spot in all the world would be a paradise if shared with you. Nad. How — how shall I answer you ? Paul. By saying, yes ! Nad. I dare not ; my mother has warned me. {Mitsic ; piano. Paul. Warned you of what ? Nad. I scarcely know. There is some mystery, but I know her never-failing tenderness and love, and it is my duty to con- sult her before I answer you. Paul. Be it so, but 1 could not bear to hear you answer no. See, here is the rose you gave me ; if you will stay, if you will become my wife, tell me I may keep it ; but if you are to crush the dearest and the highest hopes I have, ask me for the rose back again. Nad. I will, and within the hour. 12 IN THE TRENCHES, Paul. But will you not tell me, if the answer rested alone with you, could you love me ? Nad. Paul, I Dav. {entering, R.). Signora, your mamma is asking for you. Nad. Where is she, sir ? Dav. In the drawing-room. Nad. 1 will go to her. [Paul starts to follow. Dav. A moment, young gentleman. I wish to speak to you. [Paul leads her to D. R. Paul [aside to her). Remember the rose. [Exit Nadina, r. Dav. Now, young gentleman, you are falling in love with that young lady. Paul. No, father, I am not. I have fallen, and so deep that I can never get out again. Dav. But you will have to. Paul. Impossible ! Dav. Not when I command you .'' Paul. Pardon me, father, but in the choice of a wife every man has a right to judge for himself. Dav. You have dared to resign your commission, and can expect nothing from me ; and you have also dared to refuse to marry the lady 1 intended for you, who has sixty thousand dollars. Paul. Sir ! I love Nadina. Dav. Confound it ! You will at once give up all hopes of this lady, if you are an honest man. Paul. If I am an honest man ? I am an honest man. Dav. Do you think it honest to marry a woman under false pretences? To find out afterwards that you are a penniless, nameless man. Paul. Father ! Dav. Do as I wish, and you remain a gentleman. Refuse, and you become a beggar. Now, one word. Will you give her up ? Paul. No ! Dav. Then my duty as a gentleman forces me to tell you — to prevent you deceiving this lady — that the name you bear, the position you hold, you have no right to. You are not my son at all. [Alusic cojt tinned. Paul. Not your son ? Dav. No, sir ; but the son of a poor Spaniard. Paul. A Spaniard ! Tis false ! I am an American in heart and soul. I feel it within myself, and I know it. Dav. {seated). You shall judge for yourself. Your own obstinacy forces me to tell you the whole — the bitter truth. Twenty years ago, while travelling in Spain, I stopped at a IN THE TRENCHES. 13 small village for refreshment. As I left the hotel at night, to continue my journey, I was accosted by a man I had known before — Jose Estrada. He had a child in his arms, wrapped beneath his cloak, and he begged me, in the name of humanity, to take and save it. I consented ; I brought the child to Amer- ica, and having no wife, no children of my own, I adopted, educated, and made a gentleman of him. (Ii'ises.) You, Paul, are that child. A man without a father. Paul. My God ! Why was 1 permitted to live for such a bitter hour ? Better have been the humblest wretch on earth than to be lifted up to fall again like this. Oh, Nadina, Nadina ! You are lost to me, indeed ! [Crosses to chair, R. Dav. You now understand why you must give the lady up ? Nadina comes from a noble Spanish family. If you were to marry her, you would bring shame and disgrace upon her. I should never have told you this but for your reckless conduct and obstinacy. Paul. But are there no papers ? Dav. Yes, a sealed packet, which I have given my word shall not be placed in your hands till you are of age. On your twenty-first birthday— a few months hence — it shall be given you. Paul. Mr. Davis. Dav. Nay, Paul, call me father still. Paul. No, sir. I will not bear a name I have no right to, but the wealth and position I thought were mine I'll win for myself. To-day my life begins— one lavor alone I ask ; go to Nadina — for I have not the courage nor the heart — tell her — as you have told me — all. But tell her also that if she can still love the nameless outcast — it she will wait for me in confidence and trust — I will win a name and position for myself. Dav. I will. Come with me. Paul. No ! My head's bewildered, and I must think. [Drtim and fife band in the distance, playing" The Girl I left behind ine^ Dav. Poor boy. Well, it is better that he should know ; he's a fine fellow, and I wish I were his father. [Exit, R. Paul {looking off, C. to L.). What are those ? Recruits marching to the depot. I'll walk down and watch them. Nadina, give me but one smile, one word of encouragement and hope, and I'll win a name you shall not blush to bear. [Exit, L. March ceases. Re-enter Green and ^\5\ajaya^\y.^ from r. i e. Green. Begorra ! what an astonishment. Bull. Goodness gracious ! Vot a surprise ! Green. There goes the heir to the largest estate in Cuba. 14 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ Bull. And he doesn't know it. Green. A millionaire in Ins own roight. Bull. And he doesn't know it. Grsen. His mother in the house. Bull. And he doesn't know it. Green. And he niver will. Oh, what a snap ! If we buy the estates — they are cheap — and this young man were to mate wid some accident and were to die, to Bull Knock or\'er the pail vit his foot ? Gresn. Kick tke bucket, you mane. But where has he gone ? Bull. Let us vatch and see. His life is vorth too much. Poor fellow ! the vorld is very hard upon him, and ve vill Green. Sind him to a better one. Bull. You shall send him. Green. No, you. yQiiarj-cl as before. Bull. Ugh ! you Irish bogtrotter. Green. Ugh ! you domned Sheeny ! {Quarrel as before.) But I forgive you. Bull. I accept your abology. [Exeunt by window, C. Enter Mad. V. and Nadina, d. r. Mad. V. And now, Nadina, you know all, that you are the child of a Spanish peasant, and in justice, you must not marry this gentleman, to whose position your own humble origin would be a constant reproach. Nad. But, why, oh, why was I not told before — before it was too late to crush my love — before my heart was broken ! Mad. V. Heaven knows, child, I have acted for the best ; and 1 should not have told you now but for the visit of these agents. Davis enters, R. Dav. Madam, at the request of Paul, whose attachment to your daughter Mad.V. {crossing, C). 'Stay, Mr. Davis. In order to avoid any unnecessary pain, or useless explanation, let me at once say that any engagement between your son and my daughter is out of the question. Paul entering, l. d. Paul. Mr. Davis is here — then he has told all. Green and Bullheimer enter, C., and renmin at back, Dav. (L.). You will pardon me — but Paul Paul {down L. c). Will speak for himself — and to Nadina alone. IN THE TRENCHES. I 5 Mad. V. (R.)- Be it SO. Nadina, you know your duty. {Retires up, Dav. {aside to Paul, l. C). Remember, Paul, this is my tinal decision ; you either marry Miss Millord, or you quit my roof. [Exit, R. Music continued. Paul (R.). You have heard all. Nad. (L.). All what .? Paul. The sudden change from a position of honor and respect to that of a beggar. Nad. {aside). He knows all. {Aloud.) Yes ; I have heard. Paul. Ah ! And your answer ? Nad. Do you still require it ? - Paul. Yes. When I spoke of love, I little dreamt it was the love ot a pauper. Nad. {aside). Ah ! then he does know all, and merely renews his offer from mistaken honor. I will not be a blot on his name. Paul. Nadina ! Your answer. Nad. Give me back the rose. Paul. Ah! {Kissing it and giving it to her.) As with that flower, so may your memory of me fade and wither. Good-bye, and forever. Nad. Good-bye. Oh, mother ! mother ! take me away ! [She drops rose, which Paul picks up ; Mad. V. catches her, as she falls fai^iting, and she leads her off, L. Paul. She has gone from out my life forever. And in this great wide world I am friendless and alone. [Military band heard in the distance, piano, and worked tip forte, till end of Act, as dialogue will allow Enter Colonel, r., with Davis. Col. (R. C.). Davis, we're off! Farewell. Paul (C). Colonel, is it true your regiment is short of men ? Col. Confound it, yes ; can't get recruits. Like you, they are afraid to fight. Paul. Will you take me .? Col. ajid Dav. You ! Paul. Yes. I— and now. Col. But you have resigned your commission. What will you do for one ? Paul. Do for it ? Win it. [The top portion of rifles and bayonets and the colors of the regiment are seen crossing at back above the garden fence, from L. to R., and continued till the end of Act ; supposed to be the soldiers passing. Col. There is no time to be lost — our brave fellows are on the move. Follow me. \Turns to go, L, i6 IN THE TRENCHES. Nadina atid Mad. V. enter /r^w^ l. Nad. (L.). Paul — Paul— where are you going ? Paul (R. C). To Cuba — to the war — I am beggared in pocket and bankrupt in love, and what better late than food for powder 'i Nad. (L, C). Oh! Paul — I do love you. [Falls i7i his a^-ms. Paul. Nadina, farewell ! With your name upon my lips, your image in my heart. Heaven bless you ! Good-bye. Nadina, falling, is caught by Mad. V. Picture end of Act. Military ba7id, forte. Colonel. Paul. Green. Bullheimer. Bayonets passing at back. Nadina. Mad. V. Davis. R. L. CURTAIN. ACT II. Scene. — In the Trenches ; the drop shows view of the Trenches. Earth Works. A disabled Cannon. n A Barrel. A rude Table. Camp Fire. Cricket rt;z<^ Murphy, discovered ; music. Cricket dancing about J Murphy on sentry duty through act. Mur. {seated, L.). You seem to be mighty clever wid your legs. It's practising ye are ? Cric. (L.). What for ? Mur. To run away when the inimy comes. IN THE TRENCHES. 1 7 Cric. Run away ! Nevah ! I might retreat, but I'd never run away. Mlir. Why did you enUst, Cricket ? Cric. I do' know, for a fac', I'ish. I was jes' watchin' de sogers go by, when a-man sez to me, sez he : " ' Rastus, dat am a great sight." " Fo de Lawd 'tis," I sez. "Wen dey is fighting, does dem bands play, boss ? " sez I. " Bet yer life ! " sez he ; "come and have a drink ; you're a fine man." So he treats me to a beer, and den a glass of ale, half-a-dozen glasses of whisky, a lemonade and brandy, and a ten cent cigar. Mur. Bedad ! that was kind of him. Cric. Wal I guess yes. " We has better in the army," sez he. " Does you ? " sez I. " Bet yer life," sez he ; "a soger," sez he, "sleeps in a palace, and lives like a emperor ; he eats on the fat of the land, drinks champagney wine, and smokes ten cent cigars." Mur. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Cric. An' the fus* thing you know they make you a hosifer at once. And the fus' thing I knew I had gone an' 'listed. Mrs. Bullheimer entering, l. i e., crossing; r. Mrs. B. Excuse me, have you seen any one by the name of Bullheimer ? Oh, sir, he's my husband. Mur. Is he now ? Then you're his wife, bedad. Mrs. B. I am, sir. I am — and he's left me and the little house in Milwaukee and the rent not paid. I followed him to New York, and then down here, and I'll follow him to the end of the world, and into the next one too ; but wdien I do find him —oh! Mur. I wouldn't be Bullheimer for a trifle. What kind of a manner of a man is he ? Mrs. B. Medium height. Mur. Yes ! Mrs. B. Eyes of no particular color. Mur. Yes ! Mrs. B. His hair, not exactly dark. Mur. No ! - ' Mrs. B. And not exactly light. Mur. No ! Mrs. B. But a sort of blackish-sandy-brown. Mur. Yes ! Mrs. B. With an ordinary sort of voice. Mur. Bedad, I've seen such a man. Mrs. B. Where ? Mur. In Ireland, about eight years ago. Mrs. B. Oh ! he's a sort of army contractor and agent. Mur. Is he duck-footed ? 2 l8 IN THE TRENCHES. Mrs. B. No. Mur. Pigeon-breasted ? Mrs. B. No. Mur. Does he squint .'' Mrs. B. No. Mur. Then, bedad, it's the man ; his name's Bullheimer, and he's a contractor. Mrs. B. Yes, but where is he ? Mur. Kape straight in that way — climb over the fence, and kape straight on to the right, and then inquire again. Mrs. B. Yes, but who of, and who for ? Mur. I lave that to your own discretion. Mrs. B. I'll find him, if he's on the earth, and if he isn't I'll go alter him and find him. Only I'm afraid it will be in a warmer place than Cuba. [Exit R. i E. Mur. Bedad, in ten minutes she'll walk bang into the Spanish lines. Paul heard outside, L. i E. Paul. Halt ! Mur. There he goes, the finest lad in the regiment. Cric. Ugh ! Made hmi a sergeant, and forgot to promote me. Don't 1 deserve the stripes ? [Exit, R. i E. Mur. The divil doubt it — only the stripes w^ould be on your back. Paul (t';z/^r/;/^^ L. I E.). Keep on the alert, boys. You won't have a long rest. This flag of truce will last only two hours, and then the firing will begin again. Mur. Aye, aye, Sergeant. Paul {produces tobacco). Here's a little tobacco. It isn't much, but you are welcome. Load your pipes. Mur. Thank you, Sergeant. Always good to us men, eh .'* Paul. There's no merit. We share the dangers, why not our tobacco ? Mur. Oh, Sergeant, you're as modest as a woman and as brave as a lion. P^aix ! I'm glad you're an American. Paul. The Colonel will have it that I'm a Spaniard. Mur. Sure, Sergeant, the Colonel has a prejudice against you, the divil only knows why. Paul. I cannot help that. My heart is American, though my birth was Spanish, and he hates anythmg Spanish. Unfor- tunately I am educated, and he hates education in the ranks. He opposed my promotion. I did not deserve my promotion, perhaps ; but I do not deserve his dislike. Mur. Not deserve promotion. Bedad ! When you walked into the shot and shell as though they were gray peas and shut- tlecocks, and led our men and brought back the wounded officer, the Colonel w^as obliged to promote you. IN THE TRENCHES. I9 Paul. Had there been any danger I should not have done it. Mur. That's the fun of the thing-. You beHeve yourself to be a coward, and you're the bravest man in the regiment. Paul. It's a mistake. 1 do no more than any other soldier would do. I neither dodge a shot, nor dread a bayonet, because I do not see any danger ; but if I did, I'd run away. Mur. Faix ! you would ? But it would be after the Spanish. Paul. I have comrades here who prize their lives because they've those at home to love and live for, and who in the long and silent nights can dream of home, of tender looks, of sweet voices whispering constant love and hope ; but I am nameless, friendless ; and what matters it if on yonder slopes I find a grave. [Dr2i7)i roll, L. i E. Col. {entering, L. i E. ; all salute). Keep a sharp lookout, lads. Though the enemy is quiet, the truce will soon be up. There's mischief brewing. Before the day is gone, you'll have work to do. Where's the sergeant in command ? \_Crossing v.. Paul (L.). Here, sir. Col, That half-bred Spaniard ; it's strange I should have taken a dislike to him. Sir, your friend, Mr. Davis, is dead. Paul. I regret to say the news has already reached me. Col. You behaved ungratefully to him. Paul. Pardon me, Colonel. I shall ever remember him with gratitude and love. If I preferred fighting in the trenches to marrying a woman I did not like Col. To fall in love with a Spanish woman Paul. That was my affair, not yours. Col. Ahem ! You have won rapid promotion. I hope you deserved it. Paul. I hope so too, sir. Col. Rather too important a position, this, for a foreigner to hold. - Paul. I beg pardon. I am an American. Col. Oh ! I thought you were a half-bred Spaniard, Paul. I was an American gentleman, sir. Col. We don't expect non-commissioned officers to be gentlemen. Paul. But we expect the commissioned officers to be. Col. Confound the fellow ! Humph ! Information has been received at headquarters that there are spies in the camp. Paul. Spies, Colonel ! Col. And that information of our numbers at each post, with drawings and plans, are being supplied to the enemy, and by a person described as "Spanish-American." {Looks at Paul.) But let the traitor beware, for if we catch him, we'll shoot him like a dog. 20 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ Paul {aside). Why am 1 silent under this injustice? Is it respect for a brave man, or because I am a coward ? Col. Vou are silent, Sergeant. Paul I was hoping. Colonel, that the spy might be caught. Col. And I that he won't be in our ranks. Paul. Americans, Colonel, are neither spies nor traitors. Enter Cricket luith two packets, r. i e. Crick {cj'ossing, C). From the Commander-in-Chief, Kunnel. — (^q\. {opens packet ; reads). Eh! what is this? A packet of letters for you. Sergeant. Paul. I thank you, sir. [Takes packet and goes into tent ; reads. Col. {reading, R.). " Permit two Cuban ladies to pass through the American lines." What the devil do women want here ? Crick. (L.). De lady's brother is dying, sah, and she has been giben leave to pass to him wid de nex' flag ob truce for the wounded. Paul {in tent, reading by hnitern). Madame Valdoza here, and Nadina ! Col. I'd rather see the devil in the camp than a woman ; but the flag of truce will shortly expire ; they must wait for the next before they can pass. Now for a peep at the enemy. \Mounts raking platform, R. of C, and looks offv.., throns^h glass. Paul {stopping Cricket, who is going l.). Where is* Madame Valdoza staying ? Crick. At headquarters, sah. Paul. Thank you. [Exit Cricket, l. i e. Paul. Nadina and her mother — will they know that I am here ? And if they do, will they bestow a single thought upon me ! Will she, Nadina, care to know my fate — if I am living, or if I am lying upon a Cuban battle-field — like many a better man — with a bullet through his heart ? Mur. {in tent). What's the matter wid ye, Sergeant ? You've a face as long as a doctor's bill. Paul {in tent). Nothing, Corporal. {Aside.) Now^ for the other packet. {Opens it.) As I supposed, from poor Mr. Davis. {Reads.) "Is to be opened when twenty-one years of age." I am past that now. What is this ? A certificate of birth of Paul, son of Emilia Valdoza, on October the 13th, 1833, and properly attested, indorsed by a statement that for family reasons a female had been substituted. Great Heaven ! then Madame Valdoza is my mother. [As Paul opens second packet and reads, Murphy turns and sees Colonel. IN THE TRENCHES. 21 Mur. Bedad, Colonel, you'd be picked off by the enemy like a pigeon from a trap. Col. Have the men been here ? Mur. Have they been there ! Faix, haven't they ? Col. Where the men go, the Colonel goes. To an American officer, duty has no fear. Mur. {aside). He's a severe officer, but, bedad, he's a brave man. Paul. Good ! The second document, signed by Mr. Davis, proving that his supposed son is the same child he rescued on the night of the 13th of October, 1833, from Jos6 Estrada; these two documents make the chain of evidence complete. In Madame Valdoza I have found a mother — she is in the camp — but I cannot leave my post. I have it — I will write to her, and enclose these precious proofs. When every moment I may swell the list of killed it is not safe for me to have them. yBegins to write at table in tent by the light of the lantern. Enter Green and Bullheimer, l. i e. Green. This is the spot where our friend Paul is stationed. Bull. I vish he vas stationed in the next vorld. Green. Me, too. Bull. Sent to the devil. Green. Yis. The divil take him. Bull. Romero is dead, and ve have bought the property — but ve can't hold it while this fellow is living. Green. Ah ! he must die, like many a better man ! Bull. But how ? He's in every battle, and in every charge — fights like a hero, and calls himself a coward. Green. Ah ! if I were only behind him, and could put a bul- let in his back. But no, he always comes out unhurt. Bull. Hush ! there is the Colonel. Have you the drawings of the redoubts and entrenchments, and the number of men at each ? Green. In the lining of me coat, begorra. Bull. To-night they must be in the hands of the Spaniards. Green. You had better take care of them. Bull. No — you — to have them found on me is instant death. Green. It's the same forme, begorra ! Will you take them ? Bull. No, I won't. Green. The divil take yez for a Hebrew sneak. Bull. Damnation ! Green {sees Colonel). But I forgive you. Bull. I accept your abology. Col. {comes dowfi, R. h.j. HuUoa ! What the devil do you want here ? Green. I wasjoost inspectin' the army ! 22 IN THE TRENCHES. I Col. Irish ! Who are you ? Green. The firm of Green and B-ullheimer, International Financiers and Army Contractors. Col. Oh ! Army contractors. Green. Yes, sir — army contractors. Col. Oh, the damned rascals who have clothed our brave fellows in rags. I should like to hang a few of you. Green. Ye're hard on us. Colonel. Bull. I nefer did — so hellup me gracious ! Col. Now look here, I w^on't have strangers prowling about here ; we know there are spies in the camp. . Green and Bull. Spies !- Col. Aye ! Spies, who are making plans of our entrench- ments, and lists of our men ; they are known to be Spanish- Americans. It's death to the rascals when caught. Green. But oi'm an Oirisham from Cork. Bull. And I'm a Jew from Jerusalem. S^Crosses, R, H. ; bugle call to arms j drum rolls till Colonel off. Col. Ho, Sergeant ! Paul. Yes, Colonel. Col. What are you doing ? Paul. Writing a letter ; but I have finished now. [Seals letter. Col. Follow me. \^'sx\ followed by Paul ; Murphy pacing tip am down as sentry, R. to l. Bull. 'Tis he ! And there he goes — the man whose death will bring us fortune. Oh, I vill give you von hundred times, its weight in gold for de bullet dat find its vay to his heart. Green. Mind a rope don't find its way round your neck. Bull. And yours too, my vriend. {Sees Murphy.) Hush, we must get rid of dese dam papers, and next ve must get rid of him. He was writing in that tent, you heard. Green. We must read that letter. Bull. But how ? {Points to MuRPHY.) Look in when his back is turned. {Mvylvhy paces off, R. i E.) Ha ! Now. Green. Roight ye are. {Looks in, ajid comes out to BULL- HEIMER, as Murphy turns and passes to L.) A packet of letters for Madame Valdoza. Bull. Vot is to be done ? Green. Dead aisy ! While I manage the sintry, steal the letters, and put in these. {Gives papers.) Do you tumble ? Bull. Yes ; I fall off mysellef. Green {to Murphy, whose back is to the tcjit, producing flask). Some brandy. Will you drink ? {By this titne Bullheimer is in tent, and openi7ig letters. IN THE TRENCHES. 23 Mur. Willi? Won't I. {Drinks. Green {smgs). "For we are jolly good fellows, we are jolly- good fellows," etc. Mur. And so say all of us, hurrah ! And so you are. Green. Here is your good luck. {Drinks.) An' may you live till you die. Mur. Here goes. An' may you be tin days in hiven before the divil hears of your death. {Drinks. Bull, {comes out to Green). Curse it ; I've done the trick, but can't seal the packet. Green. The divil ! Nivir mind ; have a drink. Bull. Mid bleasure ! Green. Now, you. {Gives back flask to Islv^^VYiY.) I'll be back in a minute. [Murphy abont to restune walk. Bull. Try my flask. It is real Irish. Mur. Raal Irish ? Thin, bedad, I'll taste it as well ; that the Spaniards shan't take it prisoner. {Drinks. Green has slipped into tejit, melted luax at lamp, atid re-sealed letter with his own seal, which is fastened to his watch chaift. Bull. You seem to like it. Mur. Loike it ! Ain't I traiting it as a brother ? {Drinks. Green. Ah ! me dear Paul, as I seal your letter, so I seal your fate. Mur. Bedad, I won't have any more. Bull. You can't. You've emptied the bottle. {As Murphy ttcrns and sees Gr^^i^ coining from tent. Mur. What the devil are you doing, man ? Green. I was looking for a light for me cigar from the lantern. Mur. No one must go in there. Green. Have the cigar, then. You know your duty. Mur. Bedad, I will. {Takes out knife and cuts it in half. Bull. What are you doing ? Mur. Cutting it in half-one half for myself, and one half for the Sergeant, who shared his tobacco with me. Re-enter Paul, l. i e. ; takes packet from the tent. Paul. Murphy, run with this packet for me, and give it to the Cuban ladies at headquarters. [Murphy salutes and q-^\X^ l. Vk\5\. goes in tent. Green. Now we have sprung the mine. Look out for a Bull. Blow up. Nad. (entering l.' i e.). 'Tis here they said that I should find him. Thanks to the flag of truce, I have come without danger. Dear Paul ! how my heart leaps with the thought of meeting him. 24 IN THE TRENCHES. Green {seeing her). Ah ! This is a great pleasure. Me heart bates with joy to see your voice once more again. Nad. Pardon me, sir, but Green. Anything you like. Nad. You are the person, 1 believe, who has purchased the Romero estates, well knowing that he who sold them had no right to do so. Green. Oh, me darlin', niver moind the estates Nad. Permit me to pass. Green. Jist wan minute Nad. If you are a gentleman Green. I am an Irishman Paul {comitto out of tent). Hulloa ! What's this ? Green. Nothin' at all, at all, jist Paul (C). Nadina ! Nadina ! [Seeing her. Nad. Paul! [They embrace afid retire up. Green {aside). Damn him ! Bull. You got it in the neck-tie dot time. Green. I'H be revenged for this. Bull. Make it hot for him. Green. Oi'll make it hot for him, for I hate him. [Exeunt, l. i e. Paul {cojning down with Nadina). Dear Nadina, I hold you in my arms at last, and long and weary months of misery are forgotten. Nad. Oh, Paul ! Why did you leave America in anger, and the friends who loved you ? Paul. Did you not reject me — refuse my love because of my altered position ? Nad. No, Paul, no. It was because I myself had learnt that I was not the daughter of Madame Valdoza. Paul. I have written to her ; has she received my letter ? Nad. No ! But she will be here directly ; she is most anxious to see you. But, Paul, you are a sergeant — why v/ere you promoted ? Paul. Because I didn't run away. Nad. Run away ? You, Paul — why, we are told that for your reckless bravery the regiment have called you " Dare- Devil Davis." But why were you promoted ? Paul. I scarcely know. It was a cold gray morning, the ground heavy, and the air thick and misty with the rain ; the men were sleeping, everything about the camp was quiet and silent, when a strange and muffled sound was heard, and then in the dawning light a thick gray mass of moving men were seen, and the enemy were upon us ; a shot was fired, the drums were beaten, the bugle called to arms, and in an instant the men sprang up to life and action. On came the enemy, mad IN THE TRENCHES. 25 with drink and frenzy, and down we went to meet them, shoulder to shoulder, with a ringing American cheer. Ah ! how many a brave and noble fellow shed his blood that day upon the wet and barren ground, and left the hearts he loved to mourn him. Nad. But you, Paul — you ? Paul. I had no time to think, I had but to do, and with my comrades dispute every inch of ground, bayonet to bayonet, and foot to foot ; our officers were killed, the ground \\;is choked with the dymg and the dead, and overwhelmed by numbers, we were losing ground, when with one last desperate shout we charged again, and drove the Spaniards back. Nad. And did you think of me ? Paul. Your name was on my lips, and in my heart. I had a Spaniard down, a man who fought with desperate bravery throughout ; there he lay helpless and fallen, my bayonet was at his heart — I looked into his pale, defiant face, and there I saw Nad. Mine ? Paul. Aye ! Yours — the same dark earnest eyes, the same expression. Nad. And you killed him ? Paul. No ! Spared him ; he was wounded and I brought him prisoner to the camp. Nad. Have you seen him since ? Paul. No. I was promoted on the field of battle, and have since been too busy to visit him. \D7'tinis, triiinpct J " TJie Salute y Enter Colonel, Murphy, and two Soldiers. Col. {crossing). Sergeant, you are under arrest. Paul (c, with two Soldiers). 1, Colonel ! For what ? Col. Let your conscience tell you. {To Nadina.) You must return to headquarters at once. Nad. (L.). But Paul ! Oh, sir, if he is in danger let me stay with him. Col. Impossible ! Conduct the lady back. Nad. But, sir- • [Afusic, piano, continued. Col. Silence ! {Aside.) Hang it, my mother was a woman. {Aloud.) Well — well — say farewell and leave him. Paul. Have no fear, Nadina, there is some mistake — good- bye. Nad. Good-bye ! [^Going L., then looks back to Paul, who goes to her, kisses her, and she exit, L. i E. Col. {to Soldiers, who are following). Bring back wnth you the Spanish prisoner taken by this man. (SOLDIERS saluts 26 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ and exeunt, l. i e. To Paul.) Now, to deal with you. I have received a communication to the etfect that the papers we require are in a sealed packet, addressed to a Cuban lady in the camp. Mur. {up C). I hope there is no harm — there is the letter. [Gives if to Colonel. Paul (L.). That is my property. Col. (R.)- Young- man, a grave and terrible charge hangs over your head ; open that packet and clear yourself. Paul. It is a private letter, and I deny your right to pry into its contents. Col. Open that letter. Paul. I decline. Col. Beware, young man ; you are suspected ot an odious crime — ol being a spy and a traitor to your country. Paul. Colonel ! such a charge is almost too absurd for even indignation — but I give you my word of honor, as a man, that packet contains only a private letter. Col. Once more, will you open it ? Paul. No ! Col. Then my duty compels me to do so. IMurphy, Ijreak the seal of that letter and hand me the contents. Mur. I'd rather not. Col. Obey orders. Mur. Bedad, I must. [Music. Opens packet, hands the contents to the Colonel, retaining ejivelope. Col- {reads). Ha ! what are these ? Fetch the person to whom the packet was addressed. (Exit MURPHY, L.) So, so, a plan of the entrenchments, and a list of the men. Paul. I — I — did not put them there — there js treachery. Col. Treachery ! Aye ! But you are the traitor. Paul. 'Tis false ! my honor is as stainless as your own. Col. {to Murphy, who returns). Who gave this to you ? Mur. (l.). The Sergeant. Col. Did it leave your hands till you broke the seal ? Mur. Divil a moment, Colonel. Col. You hear 1 Oh, ^ young and yet so depraved ! Were your crime less detestable, I could almost pity you. Paul. I ask no pity — I demand justice. Col. Then you ask for death — and a death the most dis- graceful and revolting. Mad. V. (entering, L. i E.). Paul ! [Goes to hijn and shakes hands. Col. (R-)- ^^ '• ^OM know the prisoner, madani ? Mad. V. (L.). The prisoner! {Turns and sees the CO'LO'RlLl..) Ha ! My husband — and alive ! IN THE TRENCHES. 2/ Col. My wife ! (Mad. Valdoza about advancing to him.) Stand back ! I have a stern and terrible duty to perform. Enter two Soldiers ivith Jose Estrada, l. i e. Jose (I .. seeing PAUL), The soldier who saved my life. Col. Ha ! you speak English ? Joss. I do. Col. (R.). Your nanie ? Jos?. Jose Estrada. | Paul «;/<'/ Mad. Valdoza ,9 /^r/. Mad. V. (L. C. ; to Colonel). One moment, as you value all you hold clear in life. Jose Estrada, do you know me .? J0S3. Yes ! the Senora Romero. Mai. V. 'Twas you who, twenty years ago, took away my son. Where is he ? JCS2. I can tell you nothing. I have my duty to myself. Col. How do you mean ? Jose. 1 am among enemies. Col. You are among Americans, who will treat you with justice and humanity. Paul (C). Speak the truth, and you are sale. Mad. V. Speak ! There stands the husband who has doubted my love. Jose. He was misled by a forged letter. Col. Ah ! Mad. V. And the child, our son ? What has become of him ? Jose. He was adopted by an American gentleman. Mad. V. His name ? Jose. Davis. Col. My son ! and I dare not take him to my heart. My son ! A traitor and a spy ! Mad. V. - A spy and a traitor ! Col. Aye. Proved here beyond a doubt. Mad. V. But you will save him — yout- son .? Col. Were he twenty times my son, I have a duty to perform. \A trumpet call, " The alarm" followed by roll of drums. Enter Soldier, l. i y.., who gives dispatch to Colonel. Paul. Do not plead for me, mother, I am innocent. And whatever my fate, I can meet it like a man. \Trumpet call, L., answered, R., by anotJier call, and drum roll. Col. {to JOSE). You are a prisoner, and must return to your quarters. (7i? Soldiers). Conduct him back. I Exeunt Soldiers ivith Jose l. j. e. Col. The attack has commenced. ( 7}? Paul.) You are my son, and Heaven knows 1 would have taken you to my heart 28 IN THE TRENCHES. and loved you. But you stand dishonored in the eyes of man. On yonder battery waves the Spanish flag. {Trumpcf call, a charge, L., answered, R., by another call. Transparency m cloth, as if fiavies from the cannon mounted on the differ ejit batteries.) A forlorn hope of volunteers are starting now to take it, and I would not see you die a traitor ; the service is one of death. Go, then, and meet it like a soldier's son. \Triimpet calls as before. Reports of cannon. Mad. V. No. no ! Paul. I will ! ( Trumpets and reports as before). My honor is true and spotless as your own. But you, my father, doubt me. I'll seal its truth in death, or bring back a name you siiall be proud to own. Good-bye, mother ! If I fall, tell Nadina how I died — wronged and misjudged. Farewell ! And now for the Spanish flag. \^Runs up inclined platform, R., and disappears over earthwork. Men at back passing. Alarms, R., and l.. Reports of cannon and transparencies in cloth. Col. {to Mad. v.). I must to my post. After many years your truth is proved. Let us not part in anger. Mad. V. My son ! You have killed him. Col. He was dishonored. Mad. V. 'Tis false 1 Col. I am going into action, perhaps to death. Mad. V. You have sent my son to his. Col. My duty. Say farewell. Mad. V. Never ! Bring back my son alive, or take a mother's curse. Col. Be it so ! The fate I sent him to I'll share myselt. \ Rushes up platfarjn, r., a7id disappears over earthwork, R. Alarms as before, reports, and transparency, cheers, etc. Nad. (entering, l. i e.). Paul ! where is he ? Green and Bullheimer, enter, l. i e. Green (l.)- Let me tell you. Your brave soldier is with \}c forlorn hope. Nad. (L. c). Ha ! Green. He will die. He will be shot. Nad. No ! he will return. {Trumpets, drums, reports as before. Green, l^ut not alive, or he must have the nine lives of a cat. [ Trumpets, driims, reports. Re-enter Colonel over platform, R. Col. (k..)- '^^^ battery is taken, and the flag is down. \^A loud cheer is heard at R. Mad. V. (L.). My son ! IN THE TRENCHES. 29 Nai. Paul ! Where is he ? Enter Paul over platforui with Spanish flag, R. Paul {at top of platform). Here ! Mother — Nadina ! {A lo H d report. ) H a ! [ He fa lis . Picture. Soldiers. Soldiers. Bullheimer. Colonel, Paul. Countess. Nadina. Green. Music in Orchestra. CURTAIN. ACT III. Scene. — Drawing-room of Madame Valdoza's home near Santiago. A centre opentJtg with steps leading to it, with a large window, showing landscape. Doors, R. ajid L. Table, L. Chairs, etc. Enter Cricket, still in uniform, and Mrs. Bullheimer, c, dow)i steps. Music. Cric. Et" you'll wait, missy, I'll tell Mr. Bullheimer you are heah. Mrs. B. But tell me, what are they doing- here ? Cric. Jes' as dey like ; dey are masters here, and 'specially dat oily I'shman. De missus no sooner found her son dan he was shot in the trenches — sliot in de moment of victory, poor fellow — an' now dese two fellers who have bought de property have claimed it. How did you get here, missy ? Mrs. B. Ah ! a woman will find her way anywhere when she wants a husband. Cric. Here he comes now, missy. Shall I say you have arrived ? Mrs. B. Please don't ; if you tell him I am here he'll want to be somewhere else. But what are they doing here ? Cric. Jes' as dey like ; he and the I'ishman are masters here. Mrs. B. Put me somewhere, so that I can pounce upon him. Cric. Step in here. (Mrs. Bullheimer enters room, l. i e.) Yah ! yah ! Dey's going too be a hot time in de ole town to night. ' [Retires up. Enter Green and Bullheimer, l. of c. Bull. I tell you you vas a humbug. 3© IN THE TRENCHES. Green. What's that, ye Sheeny divil ? Oi'll pull your nose. Bull. No ! You von't. Green. Yis, I will. {They quarrel ; seeing Q'^ACY^Y.H .) But I forgive you. Bull. 1 accept your abology. {They shake hands. To Cricket.^ Vill you have the bleasure to tell Madame Valdoza that ve vould like the honor of an Green. Interview. Ciic. De missus can't see no one nohow, but I will take your message. [Exit, L. door. Enter Jose Estrada, l. of c. down steps. Bull. Ah ! The letter to the Governor. Jose. Impossible to deliver it ; the American bombardment has only just ceased, and my countrymen, the Spaniards, will allow no one to leave the houses, as they wish to keep the inhabitants in entire ignorance of the state ot the siege. Bull. You are wilhng to serve us .-* Jose. Why not ? You offer to pay me well, and you offer me my freedom ; and for two bribes I am yours, body and soul. Green. And the girl, Nadina, she is your daughter ? Jose. No, the child of my brother. Bull. And no one knows it ! Jose. The father and the mother both are dead ; and no one knows it but myself. Bull. And you intend to claim relationship with the young lady ? Jose. Yes. Green. You loved your brother, eh ? Jose. Loved him? 'I loved the mother of Nadina, who married him. My disappointment did not breed much love, and for twenty years I've felt the rankling thirst for vengeance. Green. And you shall have it. You serve my interest, I will give you freedom. Jose. I am yours. I have those about me who will serve your purpose. We shall be ready when you call. [Exit, c. to R. Green. Ha ! ha ! Bullheimer, me boy, we win the game. We are safe now. We have been w^ell paid. We have claimed the estate, and Paul is dead. Begorra, w^e've had a narrow squeak of it. Bull, By chiminy, yes. Green. The estate is ours. Where are the two papers that prove the change of children — the identity of Paul .'' Bull. Here in my pocket. Green. Suppose I put them in mine. IN THE TRENCHES. 3l Bull. Suppose you don't. Green. Suppose I do, thin. Bull. I'll see you hanged first. Green. Do you doubt me honor ? Bull. Do you doubt mine ? [They qiiarret as before. Green. No, no, you are a gintleman. {Aside.) I don't think. Bull. And you're another. Green. We will keep our rule to square up as we go. You shall keep one and I will keep the other. Bull. Very well. Here they are. [Gives Green the choice. Green takes one. Green. I have the one that certifies to the change of children. Bull. And I have number two, dot certifies dot Paul vas dot same child. Green. Ha ! ha ! Now Nadina will soon be mine. Oh, the charming Nadina ! Bull. Bah ! She doesn't care a straw for you. Green. Divil a care ! She will soon care the whole hay- stack. You think she won't love me, because your wife made a fool of you with the plumber. Bull. You say it again. Green. Ha ! ha ! Your wife makes a fool of you Bull. Ah ! [As he turns on Green, Mrs. Bullheimer enters, l., and comes betweejt them. Mrs. B. (c). You know better. Bull. The devil — my wife ! Green. The divil ! The little fat, fair and forty ! I'm off. jExit, c. /^r. Mrs. B. And so, Mr. Bullheimer, I have found you. Bull. Yes, Mrs. Bullheimer. Mrs. B. Oh ! if I could harrow up your feelings ! but you haven't any. If I could touch your heart ! but it is only a pumping machine. Oh ! why did you leave the beautiful home in Milwaukee ? Bull. (R.)- Because the drains were bad. Mrs. B. (L.) Didn't I look after your little comforts ? Bull. Yes, gave me pigs' feet for breakfast. Mrs. B. Because you had been tipsy over night. Didn't I look after your clothes and give you clean shirts and collars ? Bull. Yes, frayed at the edges, covered witii iron moulds, and burst at the button-holes. Mrs. B. Oh, Bullheimer, and when you came home tipsy at three o'clock in the morning, and wanted to go to bed with your boots on, what did I do ? Bull. Emptied the water jug over me. 32 IN THE TRENCHES. ^ Mrs. B. Wasn't I kind to your friends ? Bull. Yes, too l and the cosmic cycles. Another Jack. ''Everybody's Jack." Jacks are Trumps. Act II. — The ladies' department. A messenger from India. More about Jack. Going to Harvard. Cap and gown. " The ghost-letter." A great (astral) light breaks upon xMrs. Montressor. Following suit. "Thim fancy shrouds." Jacks are Trumped. Act III. — Radclitfe dormitory. A college girl's room. A strange man. Aline's arrival. The power of the Mahatmas. An elopemenit. " A pad for red ink." Fumigation. Ominous "signs." The search. " The real Mr. Wil- liams." Explanations. Jack takes the Trick. COUSIN FRANK. A Farce in One Act. By FRANCES AYflAR MATHEWS, Author of " A Finished Coquette," "Wooing a Widow," etc. Five female characters. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy interior, or none at all. A bright little piece, treating the old problem of " An Adamless Eden " in a new way. It has an entertaining story and bright and vivacious dialogue, which cannot fail to give twenty minutes of pleasure in parlor or hall. Price .... 16 centa. NEW ENTERTAINMENTS. THE BOOK OF DRILLS. I^ARX III. A series of entertainments for parlor or hall by Mary B. Horne, autlior of. "Thk Book of Drills," Parts I and II; "The Peak Sisters," "Prof, Baxter's Great Ixventiox," etc. rrico, 30 Centsl CONTENTS. Looking Backward 1)hjll /'or ri(/ht2>(^r/ormers, ladies or gentlemen, or both. Living Ad VERTiSK.MENT.s . . , For a large number of perfoj^viers. The D wakes' ])a>'ce . For four to eight hoj/.t. Gdlliver and the LiLiruTiANS UP to Date . . . For fen boys. THE BOOK OF DRILLS. PART IV. A series of entertainments for parlor, stage or lawn by Margaret Fezandie, Mrs. L. K. Rogers and Nellie E. Case. Price, 30 Cents. CONTENTS. The Tennis Drill For sixteen girls. The SoAi'-BunuLE Drill For s'xtcen girls. The Harvesters For eight girls and eight boys. The Bread- AN D-MiLK Drill .... For very little children. A PAIR OF LUNATICS. A DRAMATIC SKETCH IN ONE SCENE. By W. R. WALKES. For one lady an.l one gentleman. A clever and amusing little piece, suitable for stage or platform. Requires no scenery, and plays about twenty minutes, Price 15 CentB, TRF MAr^T^TP ATF I a Farce in Three Acts. By Arthur W. X X li^ iyLr\.\Jl^ 1 ivfl. 1 !:.♦ [ pij,ebo. Twelve male, four female char- acters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, all interior. The merits of this excellent and amusing piece, one of the most popu- lar of its author's plays, are well attested by long and repeated runs in the principal American theatres, it is of the highest class of dramatic writing, and is uproariously funny, and at the same time unexceptionable in tone. Its entire suitability for amateur performance has been shown by hundreds of such pro- ductions from majiuscript during the past three years. Plays two hours and a half. (1892.) THE NOTORIOUS MRS, EBBSMITH, A Drama in Four Acts. By Arthur W. PiNER'ERO. Eight male and five female char- acters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. This well-known and powerful play is not well suited for amateur per- formance. It is offered to Mr. Pinero's admirers among the reading public in answer to the demand which its wide discussion as an acted play has created. (1894.) Also in Cloth, $1.00. W. PiXKRO. Seven male and four female characters. Scene, a single interior, the same for all three acts ; costumes, modern and fashionable. This well known and popular piece is admirably suited to amateur players, by whom it has been often given during tlie last few years. Its story is strongly sympathetic, and its comedy interest abundant and strong. (1893.) THE TnVTFS I a comedy in Four Acts. By Arthur W. Pinero. Six ■*•■»"'-• ■*• Axvxx-rtj* I j^^a^ig r^y^^[ seven female characters. Scene, a single ele- ; ; gant interior ; costumes, modern and fashionable. An entertaining piece, of strong dramatic interest and admirable satirical humor. (1892.) T'HF "VHCrP" A TTTTP ^TTV I a Comedy in Three Acts. By Arthur XAXX.. wx^xvtvjjax O i:./V, W. Pinero. Eight male and eight female ~ — , characters. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors, not difficult. This very amusing comedy was a popular feature of the renertoire of Mv. and Mrs. Kendal m this covmtry. It presents a plot of strong dramatic interest, and its incidental satire of""AVoman's Rights'* em- ploys some admirnbly humorous characters, and inspires many very clever lines. Its leading characters are unusually even in strength and prominence, which makes it a very satisfactory piece for amateurs. (1894.) .'^' >g'>g «^'>g '> g'^"^ LIBRARY ntr ^^ ^^^^?^^^ , °J^^^^^^ CONGRESS NEW OPERETTAS Mni I f T f W Si/ w Words by MARGARET FEZANDIE and EDGAR MORETTE. Music by EUGENE FEZANDIE, Jr. EDITH'S uRIi-^Til an ©pcrctta for €|)tltirnx, ^P I t Eleven characters, girls ani':".e is printed complete villi music. It is very tuneful and gracefully iiuiigined, and is strongly recoiiuneuded for private tlieatricals or for scIiomIs. It is jiarticidarly well suited for the latter use, as it deals whimsically with the question of youthful study, inculcating, however, a« excellent moral. Price 35 cents. ODD OPERASMEVENTIDE. | 'if/ A Collection of Short and Simple Musical Entertainments for Children. By MRS. G. N, EORDMAN. This collection provides a simple operetta, a fairy opera, f> pictiiTesqir song, ;i (juaint musical pMit«»mime, a pretty musical slay Dream. An Operetta for Children. Six speak- ing parts and clioriis. Tlxe Boatlnj* Party. A Musical Sketch for Little Children, Thirty boys and girls. Six IJttle Grandmas. A Musical Pan>omin«e for very L