Class :EfiA35L__ 
 CoiwriglTtll" ■ 
 
 COFVPIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
ROBERT and CORNELIA 
 
 A Romantic Society Tragedy^ 
 
 In Five Acts and One Scene* 
 
 RICHARD HENRY I^EWIS. 
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
 1901 
 
 BY PHTLTP H. CARROI^L 
 AIvBANY, N. Y. 
 
THE LIBRARY OF 
 CONGRESS, 
 
 SEP. 20 1901 
 
 'COPYWIGHT ENTRY 
 
 ^jr J^^ '"i,ffc7 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS ^^ \,y^A 
 
 Cornelia Phorbes 
 
 Mrs. Abraham Phorbes, Mother to Cornelia 
 
 Della Makston, Friend to Cornelia 
 
 Maud Lewison 
 
 Olive Simmonds 
 
 Martha, A Parlor Maid 
 
 Abraham Phorbes, Father to Cornelia 
 
 Randall Phillips, Betrothed to Della Marston 
 
 Robert Walton, in Love with Cornelia . . 
 
 Franklin Bennett 
 
 ( 
 
 Ha:^kJ7 
 
 Walters , 
 
 A Minister. 
 
 'jA'MfeS 
 
 Fi^OSISTS..;. 
 
ACT I. 
 
 Scene: — An up-to-date drawing-room in the Phorbe^s winter 
 residence at Albany. In the rear to the left a door leads into the 
 hall. In the rear of opposite wall an entrance door. In the 
 centre of the wall in the background a large entrance leading in- 
 to an antetooin. Palms and flowers decorate the brilliantly 
 illum,inated and luxuriously furnished room,. Dance m,usic is 
 heard in the distance, this being the evening of Cornelia' s debut. 
 Chairs, stands and statuary are placed tastefully about the room,. 
 When the curtain has risen Olive Simmonds and Harry Walters 
 enter from centre. Miss Olive is a sweet young society girl 
 attired becomingly in evening dress. Harry Waltefs, her friend, 
 is also attifed in evening dress. As they enter and proceed 
 slowly down centre 
 
 Olive 
 
 How awkwardly sedate; so sug-g-estive of enforced hospitality. 
 
 Harry 
 Probably she is not well. The excitement and confusion 
 necessarily accompanying such occasions have evidently im- 
 paired her demeanor. 
 
 Olive [becoming seated at left) 
 She seems so thoroughly oblivious of the presence of her most 
 intimate friends. Like the needle of a compass, her eyes seem 
 to point all the while to the same object. 
 
 Harry {walking slowly to r.) 
 Should you not expect this? You are aware are you not, of 
 her sincere love for — 
 
 Olive {a trifle excited) 
 No! I thought I was; {Harry turns somewhat astonished) 
 but from what I observed this evening, I almost believe we 
 have been deceived. 
 
Ht ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Harry {somewhat agitated, approaching her.) 
 Why, Olive! How strangely you talk. I am certain she loves 
 him. Only a few — 
 
 Olive (interruptifigly) 
 Yes, only a few hours ago I thought the same. 
 
 Harry {inquiringly) 
 
 Am I to infer, that my dear friend, has been the victim of 
 coquettish cajolery? That — 
 
 Olive {astonished) 
 
 Oh Harry! How can you. She was the sweetest, mos^ 
 sensitive, polite and refined girl at the Academy. The slight- 
 est offense toothers would cause her the bitterest compunction. 
 She would not intentionally tread upon even a spider without 
 regret. I know her to be as chaste as the Phenix; immaculate 
 as an angel's thoughit. {a brief silence. Harry is very atten- 
 tive.) By far too sensible for a coquette; too gentle to be a 
 trifler. Her charms are all her own. Her winning ways are 
 natural. She is one of the great majority who can prove to all 
 mankind that the world is purer, nobler and grander than 
 ever before. The complete opposite to that small minority, by 
 the study of which some men seem justified in condemning the 
 whole sex. Oh! for this room full of Cornelias, I would give 
 a continent full of men. 
 
 Harry {excitedly) 
 I assure you dear Olive; I did not accuse the sweet girl. You 
 have certainly misconstrued me. I — I was led to believe by 
 your previous discourse, that we were deceived; that she did 
 not love him, which, to judge from her actions, I would wag- 
 er the universe were it mine, to what remained, that she did. 
 
 Olive {inquiringly) 
 Is it essential to the existence of purity and decency in wo- 
 man, that she should love a man? Or again do you not place 
 too much responsibility upon mere actions? 
 
 Harry {rather cool) 
 It seems almost incredible, that such actions, correctly 
 interpreted, could speak so lovingly, and mean nothing. 
 
 Olive {quickly) 
 O, but they do mean something. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEWA 5 
 
 Harry {confused) 
 Will you kindly explain yourself? I am at a loss to know 
 what you mean. Make me your confidant, Olive. Why all 
 this ridiculous quibbling- and tautolog-y. I have been impress- 
 ed with the idea that Robert and Cornelia were the most amor- 
 ous pair of lovers in the county. 
 
 Olive {decisively) 
 And so they were. 
 
 Harry {enquiringly) 
 Are they not lovers now? 
 
 Olive 
 I hope so for dear Robert's sake. While in the dance, she 
 appeared so beautiful and so sweet, my eyes refused to obey 
 me. It required an effort on my part to relax my g-aze. She 
 seemed like a statue, carved by a master hand, from some hug-e 
 fairy lily. And my close observation enabled me to discern, 
 what otherwise I might not have noticed. {Harry is gfeatly in- 
 terested) 
 
 Harry {with emotion) 
 And you noticed — ? 
 
 Olive {quietly) 
 I noticed — or rather, i thought I did, a chang-e in the 
 feeling of Cornelia toward Robert. She acted cool toward him. 
 She seemed to have a hidden disreg-ard for his presence. The 
 more attentively I watched her, the more impressed I became 
 with the cruel fact that she must certainly love another. But 
 whom? That is what I cannot comprehend. Who that other 
 can be. She and I are fast friends. There are no secrets be- 
 tween us. We are fellow members of the Country Club, and 
 are noted for our loyalty to each other. If Cornelia was court- 
 ing the attention of another than Robert, I am sure she would 
 inform me. 
 
 Harry {with emotion) 
 If this be so, it will break that poor boy's heart. I well know 
 how he loves that g-irl. And how certain I was that she loved 
 him. 
 
 Olive 
 Charmingly punctilious, and scrupulous almost to a fault, 
 such priceless traits, together with an envied decorum are un- 
 
6 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 questionably responsible for her strang-e conduct this evening, 
 undoubtedly impelled by a sympathy for Robert. 
 Harry {sorrowfully) 
 And his intentions — 
 
 Olive {interrupliftgly) 
 Were good? 
 
 Harry [vehemently) 
 Excellent. Only recently when discussing the betrothal of 
 Miss Delia and Mr. Phillips, he told me confidentially, that 
 things were getting nicely into shape, that he might make an 
 effort to achieve the triumph of his life. 
 Olive {agitated) 
 O, I hope I may be mistaken, {heaity laughter is heard out- 
 side) Here come the guests. Probably they have observed 
 nothing. {going up centre) Harry be shrewd! Say nothing! 
 Watch carefully, and see if I am wrong, {vehemently) I 
 sincerely hope so. 
 
 {Enter from anteroom laughitig heartily, Delia Marsto7i and 
 Randall Phillips, Maud Lewison and Franklin Bennett, all 
 young and pretty, and attired becomingly in evening dress. 
 Olive 7neets them, at entrance. Harry remains standing at right. 
 They proceed down stage. As they enter Franklin says) 
 Franklin {laughing) 
 I enjoy that joke immensely. 
 
 Harry {inquisitively approaching them) 
 What joke Mr. Bennett? 
 
 Maud {vehemently) 
 It is no joke Mr. Walters; I was simply endeavoring to con- 
 vince him, of the possibility of a government by women. 
 Harry {with emphasis) 
 Such a government would make malcontents of us all 
 {laugh apparently on Maud). 
 
 {Maud and Olive become seated on sofa at front left. By the 
 right, Harry standing. Behind Olive, Franklin also standing. 
 In the rear of sofa Delia seated on a chair. Randall stands 
 beside her. They are very much interested in each other. ) 
 Maud {enquiringly) 
 Evidently you are not a supporter of woman's rights. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 7 
 
 Harry ( emphatically ) 
 I would support nothiner which would deteriorate the sup- 
 remacy of your sex. 
 
 Olive {enquiringly) 
 You think then, that the right of suffrage would be harmful? 
 
 Harry {vehemently) 
 I certainly do. 
 
 Franklin 
 
 Yes, decidedly harmful. 
 
 Harry 
 
 I do not understand why young ladies like you, should sanc- 
 tion such an insaneeffortonthepartofthesuperannuated maids 
 to become popular. 
 
 Olive {sarcastically) 
 Are not women equally as successful as men, in many walks 
 of life? 
 
 Maud {quickly) 
 Yes indeed they are; and in many cases they excel. 
 
 Harry 
 A distinguished and very successful politician, slapped me 
 on the back once and said very seriously: "Young man when 
 you see any one getting along in politics you can put him down 
 for a rabbit. " This coming from such a source, impressed me 
 very much. Whal would the people say, to see a lovely young 
 lady a successful politician? 
 
 Franklin {smiling) 
 They would put her down for— 
 
 Maud {sarcastically) 
 Sir— (a slight laugh) ! 
 
 Franklin {slowly) 
 
 I beg your pardon; I was about to say, they would put her 
 down for an exception. 
 
 Olive {gleefully) 
 Certainly. 
 
 Harry 
 
 Woman should never strive to equal man. She should make 
 every effort to retain her superiority. It is my sincere admi- 
 ration and respect for the sex, which compels me to assist in 
 
8 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 rescuing them from certain mediocrity. A lover of woman 
 kind will bow his head in shame at the thought of equality 
 He is perfectly satisfied to bow down before the hallowed in- 
 fluence of a pure and noble woman. 
 
 Olive {indignantly) 
 It is ridiculous to believe, that a woman could not become a 
 politician, and still remain decent. 
 
 Harry {soothingly) 
 I do not hold that a woman may not remain so; but suspi- 
 cions would become so prevalent as to cause displeasure. 
 Maud {sarcastically) 
 How alert men are to foster an embryo of suspicion. 
 
 Franklin 
 This is growing interesting. 
 
 Olive {with a sneer) 
 Tedious, not interesting. 
 
 Maud {inquiringly) 
 Would Mr. Phillips overlook the intrusion and favor us with 
 his opinion? {Randall seems g^'eatly interested in Delia, He 
 turns away slowly. ) 
 
 Randall {slowly) 
 I beg your pardon? 
 
 Olive 
 What is your opinion Mr. Phillips, of woman suffrage? 
 
 Randall {thoughtfully) 
 However just I may endeavor to. be, I fear my opinion would 
 be unintentionally offensive. 
 
 Maud {inquisitively) 
 Do you not believe, that a woman who has carefully studied 
 politics, and associated herself with the most successful and 
 distinguished politicians; who has attended their private con- 
 sultations and public conventions; do you not think, that such 
 a woman could successfully govern a country? 
 Randall {with emphasis) 
 She might rule a nation; but she could not command respect. 
 
 Maud {indignantly) 
 Nonsense! 
 
 Randall {slowly) 
 Ay, Miss Lewison I was perfectly aware that my opinion 
 would be distasteful; but for my part, I assure you I would 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA V 
 
 much prefer your dear sex, in its simple, sweet, love inspiring 
 naturalness, rather than in all the pomp and glory unbecome- 
 ingly proceeding- from crude artificiality. 
 
 Olive 
 You should remember, gentlemen, that we are living in a 
 new age. And we should so regulate ourselves as to be in 
 harmony with the times. 
 
 Harry {quickly) 
 A pure and lovely woman is the joy of every age. The same 
 force that has fashioned the ultimate condition of man for the 
 last two thousand years prevails today. Love is an instinct. 
 Every human being has some love for something. All suc- 
 cesses, achievements and triumphs are the outcome, either 
 directly or indirectly, of love, but not necessarily love for a 
 woman. 
 
 Delia {innocently) 
 "Would woman suffrage mar the effect of love? 
 
 Randall 
 It would infuse commercialism into its very depths. 
 
 Franklin 
 Probably women then would marry one another. 
 
 Harry 
 It would revolutionize the precedents of fidelity. 
 
 Maud 
 Is not the present condition of politics largely responsible for 
 the growth of infidelity? 
 
 Randall 
 Invariably all the cases of infidelity in woman; proceed from 
 a premature decapitation of virginity. {Delia and Randall 
 proceed slowly out centre to right) 
 
 Franklin {walking leisurely to centre) 
 I do believe that the day will come, when woman suffrage 
 will be a fact. I still hope however, it will not be in my time. 
 
 Harry 
 And if these young ladies will be candid and acknowledge 
 their true belief, they will agree with you. 
 Olive {quickly) 
 Not I! 
 
 Maud 
 I would like very much to see it in my time. 
 
10 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Franklin 
 
 Let us have a dance on the success of woman's suffrag-e. 
 That they may vote soon and vote often {they proceed slowly 
 up centre, Olive and Harry loiterin rear of Franklin and Maud). 
 Olive [to Harry) 
 
 Do not fail to study Cornelia's attitude toward Robert, {exit 
 Olive and Harry; Maud and Franklin c. to r.; enter at right 
 entrance Robert arid Randall. They proceed to the front right). 
 Randall {exitedly on entering) 
 
 Why; my dear fellow you astonish me. {seating himself at 
 R. front) I cannot believe it! {vehemently) I shall not believe it! 
 {Robert walks up and down nervously) Robert, I tell you, you 
 are wrong". This is the first opportunity you have ever had to 
 see Cornelia and yourself at a social g-athering-. You will 
 admit that yours was a clandestine courtship. The great 
 throng of distinguished g-uests here to-nig-ht to do her homag-e, 
 has hindered her from making- of you as much as expected. 
 I am sure that you are the only man {Robert leans restlessly 
 against stand) here to-night, that she has any love for. And I 
 tell you. — that she loves you. 
 
 {Robert is a tall, handsome young man, well-fnan7iered, kind, 
 affable, and of a sweet and loving disposition. Very sensitive 
 and decidedly in love luith Cornelia. He is dressed in evening 
 dress. ) 
 
 Robert {with emotion 
 
 O, that I could be as confident as you! Then would this 
 poor heart cease its violent ag-itation. I observed too well her 
 cruel unkind behavior, of the cause of which I am so ig-norant. 
 Could I succeed in seeing- her alone; I would make some effort 
 to learn the cause of this strange demeanor. 
 Randall {inquisitively) 
 
 Were you ever conscious of a rival? Do you believe that she 
 accepts the attentions of another? {agitated) O, forg-ive me! 
 I am a beast to insinuate so unwarranted a suspicion. No! it 
 is not so! Robert, you are deceived. You are wrong-! Corne- 
 lia loves you. I know it! Yes, I know it! 
 
 Robert 
 
 Your remarks are encouraging; but I fear they are not au- 
 thentic. I have been watching her for the last two hours, and 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 11 
 
 I imag-ine I have experienced a greater chang-e in that time, 
 than has the world in the past two centuries. I have seen the 
 sweet smiles with which she used to g-reet me, transform will- 
 fully into expression of disdain. At times, she seems wholly 
 ig-norant of my presence, {ivalking up and down) Oh, would 
 that I could eradicate from my too loyal memory all thoug-hts 
 of that sweet ^irl. To dislike her is impossible; to love her is 
 too painful. Forgive me, should I bore you with my lamenta- 
 tion; but really, all the misery and hardship proceeding- from 
 poverty, incarceration, business depression, bodily injury or 
 perhaps a million other sources, is not to be compared with one 
 nig-ht's ang-uish and torture produced by disappointed love. 
 The sweetest thoug-hts, the cherished hopes of months the most 
 carefully projected plans are destroyed in a single night. 
 Randall [soothingly) 
 
 Our plans are but playthings for circumstances. 
 Robert [agitated) 
 
 Our sincerest intentions are frittered away by fickleness and 
 instability. 
 
 Randall [consolingly) 
 
 Robert, I think you are too premature. I will believe that 
 that dear girl is innocent of any wrong doing. If she was 
 aware of the* concern she has so unconciously caused; she would 
 feel more sad than you yourself. You ought not to be moved 
 by trifles, I know your yo-vy sensitive nature. Those actions 
 of Cornelia's would pass unnoticed by a less ardent and de- 
 voted lover. It ought to require a great deal more than mere 
 conjecture to induce a good lover to suspect the indifference of 
 his sweetheart. 
 
 Robert {slowly) 
 
 Your stoical admonition is unbecoming so dear a friend. 
 Randall, I assure you I have been most lenient in my thoughts. 
 A lukewarm glance from the one you love, would change an 
 aluminum heart into one of lead. I would be pleased were I 
 wrong; but I shall not flatter myself with any phantom condi- 
 tions. I cannot help it, should I show that I feel the result of 
 an involuntary circumspection. 
 
 Randall 
 
 I hope you will pardon me. M3' surprise got the better of 
 me. I hate to believe it; but since you insist upon it I must. 
 
12 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 I will still believe however, that you will eventually rejoice in 
 a very happy conclusion. Time, the supreme moulder of our 
 destinies, will direct your future, as to render it pleasing to 
 you both. 
 
 Robert 
 I do sincerely hope the present is no indicator of the future. 
 
 Randall {sef iously) 
 Since you have entrusted me with your confidence, there 
 would be no impropriety in my acknowledging my love for — 
 {a pause. Robert turns suddenly and stares at Randall. They 
 both appear confused. ) 
 
 Robert {interruptingly) 
 For— 
 
 Randall {in a low tone) 
 Cornelia! {Robert is astonished. He makes an effort to speak 
 but cannot, Randall has a sad expression on his face. A brief 
 silence. ) 
 
 Robert {surprised) 
 Are you not to wed Miss Delia Marston? 
 
 Randall {quickly) 
 Yes! 
 
 Robert {slowly) 
 Do you — not — love her? 
 
 Randall {quickly) 
 Yes! 
 
 Robert {with astonishment) 
 What an indelicate position for an honest man. I will make 
 no imputation. 'Tis fitting consolation to know the dissembler. 
 From this time forth I shall cease to feel my own unhappiness. 
 I will espouse a nobler mission, {with force drawing closer to 
 Randall) I shall concentrate all my good will and sympathy 
 upon a dear, sweet girl, whose misery suggests itself. 
 Randall {quickly) 
 You mean — 
 
 Robert {with dignity) 
 I mean Miss Delia Marston. 
 
 Randall {excitedly) 
 Why should you concern yourself about the girl I love? 
 
 Robert {softly) 
 Because there is no unity in unrestrained love. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 13 
 
 Randall {excitedly) 
 O, Robert! How ung-entle you can make yourself. You in- 
 sufficiently construe my meaning-. I would do nothing- that 
 would incur your ill will; we have been fast friends since child- 
 hood. Let us not mar this long friendship by any gai rulous 
 encomiums of the fair sex. Perhaps I ought to have been 
 more explanatory. Do you not recollect when you and I first 
 met and won Cornelia and Delia? 
 
 Robert {joyfully) 
 Those were happy days. An ideal prolog-ue to this mortal 
 drama. 
 
 Randall 
 It was then that I toved Cornelia. How distinctly I re- 
 member the impression she made upon me. The personifica- 
 tion of delicacy, an omnipotent purveyor of consecrated sweets. 
 Robert {inquiringly) 
 And still you chose Miss Delia. 
 
 Randall 
 I did so because I saw at a g-lance that Cornelia loved you. 
 I was but one of the common multitude in her eyes. While 
 you seemed to her a God. 
 
 Robert 
 A very poor God, not to be able to retain such worthy love. 
 
 Randall 
 It was then, that I bestowed all my attention upon Miss 
 Delia. I thought her a fitting substitute. I loved Cornelia so, 
 that at first I was displeased. But now, — I would not ex- 
 change sweethearts with the hero of Parnassus. Let this be 
 thoroughly confidential. It might cause Miss Marston a lit- 
 tle uneasiness did she know it. 
 
 Robert 
 It will never be mentioned by me. 
 Randall 
 You know we are to be married in June. 
 
 Robert 
 Yes, you ought to be a very happy man. 
 
 Randall 
 I am indeed happy. And I know some day I shall see you 
 just as happy. By the way Robert, did you ever contemplate 
 matrimony ? 
 
14 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Robert 
 
 Well, to be candid, yes. I was in hopes that I might an- 
 chor my grief tossed bark of affection upon this sea of love. 
 But the calm I anticipated has been supplanted by a tempest. 
 
 Randall 
 
 The more severe the storm, the more lasting the calm. 
 Robert 
 
 What a radical optimist. You could perceive a radiance 
 emanating from the darkest night. But beware! There 
 might loom up a degree of seriousness, beyond this springtide 
 of content. 
 
 Randall 
 
 Robert, I would like to speak to you upon a very serious 
 question. Let us retire to a more secluded place. Here we 
 are subject to interruption by the guests. We will return 
 shortly. 
 
 Robert {they pioceed to r. e.) 
 
 If it is your pleasure. 
 
 {Tkey exit at f. e. Enter /torn c. e. Cornelia and Delia, 
 Cornelia is a sweet young lady just entering society. This be- 
 ing her debut she is dressed accordingly. She is refined^ gentle ^ 
 graceful and should show a great deal of affection for Delia.) 
 
 Delia (nervously, on enterifig) 
 Why! They are not here. Randall is unkind to remain 
 away from me so long. 
 
 Cornelia {they pioceed down stage to left front) 
 What restlessness is unconsciously caused by the ones we 
 love {they become seated). Very often I think "would it not 
 be better did we never love." There are a million ominous 
 meanings in the very word. It brings joy, pleasure, happiness, 
 contentment; unexpectedly followed by a retinue of evils. It 
 causes the most pitiful wretchedness; produces the greatest de- 
 light. 
 
 Delia 
 
 How strange, that two such opposites should proceed from 
 the same source. 
 
 Cornelia. 
 
 Ay, the world is full of strange realities. Could we but 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA IS 
 
 know what would come between now and our termination; we 
 would be horrified at the inconsistency and unnaturalness 
 which would be revealed. 
 
 Delia 
 
 Then I would prefer not to know. It would be inopportune 
 to mar the pleasantries of betrothal by thoughts so undesir- 
 able. I shall endeavor to remove from my mind every thing- 
 suggestive of gravity: and to spend the next twelve months at 
 least in a connubial state of wantonhood. I shall tolerate no 
 seriousness. I shall drink and breathe the love of Randall. 
 Pardon my thoughtlessness; I meant to show you my engage- 
 ment ring [she presefits her hand to Cornelia who examines 
 it very closely). O, Cornelia I wish you could enjoy a like 
 happiness with me. 
 
 Cornelia {pathetically ) 
 
 It is a beautiful ring. The prettiest I have ever seen, Bar- 
 ring the meaning, there is a pleasure in the having. 
 
 Delia 
 
 There is more in the giving than in the gift. It is a mere 
 proof, that one of the two chief events in a girl's life has been 
 experienced. 
 
 Cornelia {enquiringly) 
 
 Which would you consider the cause of more rejoicing; the 
 night of the engagement, or the night of the marriage ? 
 
 Delia 
 
 I have often heard, that the proposal causes the more joy; 
 while the marriage, gives the more pleasure. In keeping 
 company with the one you love, you are ever in suspense. He 
 may be good, kind, gentle and affectionate, and still have no 
 thought of marriage. At first your suspense is good natured; 
 but eventually becomes grave. You are disturbed with all 
 sorts of rumors: Your imagination rebels against you, and 
 jealousy is bound to ensue. Alas! What a pleasant relief. 
 A proposal changes the most painful suspense, into the sweet- 
 est longing. 
 
 Cornelia {interested, looking affectionately at Delia) 
 And the wedding night. 
 
 Delia {philosophically) 
 Is the real culmination of a life long dream. Who does not 
 know the course of such a night? The entertainment on the 
 
16 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 marriage bed, is but the natural outcome of every bethrothal. 
 Not always is a bethrothal the outcome of courtship. 
 Cornelia {^caressuig Delia) 
 
 O, you dear sweet g"irl. I sincerely hope your joy and hap- 
 piness will excel your expectations. In the contemplation of 
 matrimony you should consider the care and concern that 
 necessarily intervene. Ofttimes the sharpest thorn protrudes 
 from the softest down. Ag^ain the brightest day may reveal 
 the darkest woes. No mortal is exempt from the decrees of 
 time. Dear Delia, I love you so I wish you were an exception; 
 but I know you are not. 
 
 Delia 
 
 Sweet Cornelia, I know you feel bad, and so do I. We were 
 children and school girls together. Your secrets were my 
 secrets. Our affairs concerned us both. In our childishness 
 we wondered which would wed the first. Matrimony is a 
 sacred duty and we both expected such. Believe me dear 
 Cornelia I shall always love you, and never shall I forget our 
 girlhood and the academy. 
 
 Cornelia {with emotion) 
 
 I know you will love your husband more than me. 
 Delia [confused) 
 
 Should you not expect it of me? Would it not be natural. 
 Cornelia {interrupti?igly) 
 
 I love 3'ou Delia more than I could love any man. 
 Delia [good naturedly) 
 
 Then, you do not love Robert as you ought to {excitedly) 
 Hush! {loud talking is heard outside. Enter Robert and 
 Randall', Delia breaks away from Cornelia rushes to Rafidall;he 
 embraces her) I missed j^ou. O! so much. {Robert a?id Cornelia 
 appear confused, Randall nods at Robert then he and Delia 
 exit c. e. Robert draws slowly toward Cornelia. She sits rest- 
 lessly her' back to Robert. A silence. Standing directly behind 
 her he says in a low, clear, sy^npathetic voice) 
 
 Robert 
 
 More readily, could I comprehend the confusion of Babel, 
 than this strange behavior of my sweet Cornelia, Could an 
 erudite sage teach to me its meaning? Is there an institute of 
 learning in which I might study the ethics of her soul? No! 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 17 
 
 Her own divine will is the embodiment of the whole truth. 
 And that seems far from me. Those luscious lips, my sacred 
 oracle, are closed ag-ainst me. The same lips that not many 
 moons ag-o, taught to me the sweetest things I ever knew. 
 That chattered unceasingly in our clandestine campaign of 
 love. For one such moment, I would give a century like the 
 present. Then so anxious to be pleasant; Now so willing to 
 cause me pain. Did I know I was unworthy of your notice, I 
 would bow in humiliation and bid youfarewell. But how do I 
 know? I cannot believe it; and you refuse to tell it. Were 
 you dumb, how j^ou would love to talk. I remember when a 
 small child, my mother told me of a little girl who would not 
 speak when spoken to. The Lord became angry at her un- 
 seemly conduct and struck her dumb. Now she would 
 courteously bid adieu to the commonest dogs in the street; but 
 it is too Isite (Cornelia appears confused and restless). Come 
 dear, do ease this poor heart. Why do you act like this? Has 
 my excessive devotion proven an emetic to your soul; hence the 
 ejection of my love? Or how is it, Cornelia, that you chose to 
 treat me so? Am I g"uilty of an offence? Have I ill treated 
 you? Has some cruel rumor lessened your estimate of me? 
 Must I continue to suffer so; and be innocent of the cause? I 
 assure you, love, I am thoroughly ignorant of any reason for 
 this. Where is the ladyhood for which I so highly prized you. 
 Why not be merciful and offer to me the opportunity to vindi- 
 cate myself. The most wicked criminal has such a chance 
 before he loses a few days of liberty. And here T — I who 
 have sacrificed everything to be manly, must suffer the loss of 
 the dearest thing in the world to me; and still know not the 
 reason for the loss. Dear sweet-heart, won't you speak to 
 me? If you are too full for utterance a glance may express 
 your feelings {a brief silence). Cornelia — or rather, Miss 
 Phorbes, I feel as though I have no business in your house. 
 If you will permit me to leave in the midst of these festivities I 
 would be glad to do so. To-morrow — I will sail for Europe. I 
 refused to accompany my friends, but now I must do so. I 
 can no longer bear to look up on the girl who has so cruelly 
 Hobsonized my sweetest hopes, in the channel of despair. 
 {Leaning over her he says ^ taking her hand in his) I love you 
 Cornelia — I love you (he attempts to withdraw; she seizes 
 
18 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 him; with tears in her eyes she embraces and kisses him. A 
 brief silence). You do not want me to g^o? Then why did you 
 not speak to me. Tell me, dear, why should you feel like 
 this? {she tries to speak) 
 
 Cornelia {sobbing) 
 
 I — I could not speak. I am real unkind, Robert; but 1 love 
 
 you. I shall never act so again. Forgive me won't you; and 
 I will be the same sweetheart I was not many moons ago. 
 Robert [consolingly) 
 Then you will not tell me any reason for your actions this 
 evening? I shall willingly forgive you. Why did you shun 
 me so frequently? 
 
 Cornelia {pathetically) 
 Robert please don't tease me. I will tell you. I had some- 
 hing unpleasant on my mind. It did not concern you directly, 
 but the sight of you made me feel bad. Do not insist upon any 
 further information; for I must endeavor to forget. I will 
 promise; not to cause you any further uneasiness. 
 Robert {joyfully) 
 We will celebrate this happy conciliation with a waltz. 
 
 Cornelia {childishly) 
 You have omitted something. 
 
 Robert {thoughtfully) 
 I fail to realize what it could be. 
 
 Cornelia {childishly) 
 
 Guess again. 
 
 I can't really. 
 
 You forgot to — 
 
 I forgot to? 
 
 Cornelia {laughing) 
 To seal the covenant. 
 
 Robert {thoughtfully) 
 
 Cornelia {laughing) 
 
 Robert 
 
 Robert {laughing) 
 Oh, how stupid of me {he kisses her). Now for a waltz, dedi- 
 cated to a lasting peace. 
 
 ( They proceed out centre entrance to right. ) 
 
 —CURTAIN— 
 
ACT II. 
 
 Scene same as Act I. Time the same. 
 Enter from I. e. Mr. and Mrs. Abraham Phorbes. A distinctly 
 American couple apparently fifty and forty five respectively. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes {on entering) 
 
 It seems most astonishing- that our daughter, should choose 
 a mien of such vast indifference upon the evening- of her 
 debut. The occasion to which she has been so anxiously 
 looking for so many months {walking nervously up 
 and down). It is ridiculous! It is absurd 1 Was 
 this affair not the result of her own importunities, I would 
 imagine we had made an error, {agitated). But she pleaded 
 for it; she begged for it; she cried for it; — and there you are. 
 On the evening we expected to find her the most happy, she 
 appears the most depressed {shaking his head). 'Tis a genius 
 who knows the art to please, {turning to his wife who appears 
 very uneasy seated at right front). Have you not the slight- 
 test suspicion my dear, for this strange behavior? 'Tis irrita- 
 ting, aggravating, annoying, to see one's only daughter in 
 the throes of discontent. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {rather sadly) 
 
 I assure you, I have been most industrious in my meditation. 
 I can find no shadow of a reason for her temporary dejection. 
 Mr. Phorbes {quickly) 
 
 Temporary! And you believe then, it is only temporary? 
 {walking away) I hope so! Aha! I hope so! 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 I believe it is temporary inasmuch as it never occurred pre- 
 vious to this evening. At least not to my knowledge. 
 Mr. Phorbes {quickly) 
 
 Nor to mine. 
 
20 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 I thoug-ht perhaps the excitement of the evening-, or the im- 
 perious attitude of some one concerned, mig-ht have disturbed 
 the equilibrium of one of such pronounced timidity. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 She has had no quarrel with Mr* Walton? 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 O, no! I am quite certain thej' love each other. And Mr. 
 Walton is decidedly too manly to quarrel. 
 Mr. Phorbes. 
 I thought perhaps a little disappointment might have caused 
 her some uneasiness, enhanced by a g-rief at leaving the 
 academy. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 All girls feel badly w^hen leaving their teachers, their books 
 and their companions. But Cornelia was anxious to leave! 
 She was impatient to enter society. When her dearest friend, 
 Delia Marston left the academy and made her debut, the 
 school was no longer a pleasant place for Cornelia. She im- 
 mediately insisted upon the same course. And again, I be- 
 lieve she worries over the marriage of Delia and Mr. Phillips. 
 She imagines it will impede the love and friendship that exists 
 between them. And which has existed since their childhood. 
 I might say their babyhood. Never were a Damon and 
 Pythias more united in love and sympathy than are Delia 
 and Cornelia. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 I should think the love for a good man would overcome all 
 this. Probably she is too full of contemplation. Perhaps her 
 expectations are being too slowly realized. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 I would our daughter were more childish; she is so exalted 
 in her reasoning, that she adjusts herself, so as to be too 
 susceptible to solicitude. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Were she not so intelligent, she would fret the less; the 
 ignorant know not how to worry. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 It is an uncommon anguish to see one's daughter worr}^ so. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 21 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 Often have I heard it said; "That of all sad thing's, the 
 saddest one is the mother of a wayward son." As sad also, 
 do I believe are the parents of an unhappy child. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 The pains of travail are not to be compared with the anxiety 
 accruing- from a g-rown up child. The former are ephemeral; 
 the latter perennial. The one is a physical pain; the other 
 a distressing- disquietude of the heart, mind and soul. Only a 
 mother can fully appreciate the welfare of her child. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 To-morrow when she is perfectly rested, she may be in a 
 talkative mood. Then we may learn all. At present it 
 would be better, did we not reveal the fact, that we are 
 aware of her unreasonable concern. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 If you could succeed in gaining her exclusive company; you 
 might overcome this uneasiness on her part. Either of us 
 mig-ht be able to reconcile her. 
 
 rir. Phorbes {going toward e. c. e. and looking out. ) 
 
 It would be very difficult to do so this evening. Although 
 persons so afflicted with a surfeit of thought, generally seek 
 solitude. Probably she might steal to her study at intervals, 
 or perhaps {looking o^U from c. e. to r. with surprise) Ahal 
 here she comes; downhearted and alone. 
 
 rirs. Phorbes {with e^notion) 
 
 Let us draw aside, and watch her a few moments. Her ac- 
 tions may disclose what she would not care to tell. {They 
 withdraw to left rear and sadly watch Cornelia who enters c. e. 
 somewhat downhearted; proceeds down centre to right; stands 
 apparently in deep meditation. 
 
 ' Mrs. Phorbes {to Mr. Phorbes ) 
 
 Expostulate with her; but be most pacific in the ordeal. 
 Mr. Phorbes {approaching Cornelia) 
 
 Your mother and myself {Cornelia is startled^ embarrassed 
 and nervous) were just discussing the welfare of our daughter. 
 We were just wondering whether every detail has proved ac- 
 ceptable to you. 
 
22 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes [consolingly) 
 
 Our concern is most natural in the face of this occasion. 
 Cornelia [with emotion) 
 
 Your prodigious kindness and unceasing care, permeate 
 my soul, and augment my obligation. I would all girls had 
 so kind a father, so thoughtful a mother. To cause either of 
 you the least concern would give me the greatest pain. I am 
 thoroughly contented, notwithstanding any indication to the 
 contrary. If my countenance suggests distress, it belies the 
 truth. You are too amenable to solemnity. Every one has 
 been so kind, that favors and pleasures have been heaped 
 upon me almost to satiety. I trust you will pardon any unin- 
 tentional frown, [affectionately to Mrs Phorbes)^ My dear 
 mother, I fear you have been misinformed. I am perfectly 
 happy, and am having a glorious time. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes [inquisitively) 
 
 And Mr. Walton; he is also quite happy? 
 
 [Cornelia drops her eyes suddenly^ thinks for an instant, and 
 says rather perplexed) 
 
 Cornelia 
 
 He is '*very" happy indeed. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 You must pardon us daughter; but we had a vague impres- 
 sion that you were somewhat troubled. We thought perhaps 
 some small detail had proved incongruous; that some matter 
 was offensive; or, that some obnoxious person had thrust his 
 presence upon the guests. We will be uneasy no longer. We 
 are satisfied now that we have been the victims of our own 
 imperfect imagination. Continue in your levity. The gaiety 
 of to-day may bring forth a golden thought on the morrow. 
 [Laughing is heard on the outside, Cornelia is startled/ She 
 recognizes the voice of Delia. Enter c. e. Della^ Randall afid 
 Robert. Robert attempts to embrace Cornelia who hastens to- 
 ward them,. She ignores him, and embraces Delia affectionately. 
 Robert appears sad and bewildered and with an effort to smile 
 says. ) 
 
 Robert. 
 
 What a fair rival. [Cornelia and Delia walk to left and en- 
 gage in conversation). 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI.TA 23 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 Yes, they always did love each other. 
 
 Randall 
 Two more affectionate g-irls I never saw. So much inter- 
 ested in each other's welfare. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes [inquiringly) 
 Probably their great regard for one another makes it em- 
 barrassing for you gentlemen. 
 
 Randall {quickly) 
 Oh, no! I am delighted that Delia is so well thought of. 
 
 Robert 
 She who has no enemies among her girl friends, will ever 
 make a good sweetheart. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 Cornelia is always so careful of her friends. It would 
 cause her much grief did she vex any of them. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Scrupulous, scrupulous almost to excess, {to MfS. Phorbes) 
 We will go further and seek the comfort of the guests {they 
 exit c. e. to r. Cornelia and Delia walk leisurely to Robert and 
 Randall. Robert shows a little concern by his looks and actions. 
 Cornelia appears somewhat cool and indifferent) . 
 Randall {smiling) 
 Well girls I sincerely hope you have both profited by the 
 discourse. 
 
 Delia 
 Our conversation was by no means secret. You might have 
 joined us. 
 
 Cornelia. 
 Yes, you were both at liberty to do so. 
 
 Randall 
 I would prefer to dance. There is one thing young ladies 
 would rather do than dance. That is, "talk." {Robert is 
 nervous and restless) Robert, what do you say? 
 Robert, {in a low tone) 
 I have ceased to pose as a judge of the fair sex. When you 
 think you know them the most; you know them the least. 
 They are as changeable as the colors of a chameleon. With 
 all regards for the dear girls, I fail to know them. 
 
24 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Cornelia {quickly) 
 Why Robert; how can you talk like that: I know your in- 
 vectives were aimed directly at me. You are indeed unkind to 
 make me the subject of your cruel harang-ue, I know I have 
 caused you a little suspense, but I thought we had forgiven 
 and forgotten. Why this periodical petulance? Robert you 
 cause me more uneasiness than I cause you. It is uncalled 
 for and unnecessary. 
 
 Robert {with emotion) 
 My ardor has led me into the caprice of love. 
 
 Randall {smiling) 
 There is but one real natural method by which to properly 
 extricate oneself from the disturbances of true love. 
 
 Delia 
 
 And that is. 
 
 Randall. 
 
 It is not to be taught nor to be learned. 
 Robert {sadly) 
 
 I have been so overwhelmed in all sorts of thoughts that I 
 have been a little careless in my conduct, {to Cornelia) I shall 
 never make any unpleasant remarks nor shall I otherwise 
 cause you any unhappy meditation. And you {embracing her) 
 should act the same. From this time forth nothing can induce 
 either of us to be the least indifferent. It is altogether too 
 childish this offensive discord. 
 
 Cornelia {laughing) 
 
 Very well then, we shall cease to be children. 
 
 Delia 
 
 I trust it will require no effort to be otherwise than child- 
 ish. 
 
 Randall 
 
 Cornelia we have sought your company that you might be of 
 service to us. We have a favor to ask of you and Robert. We 
 will withdraw and lay open our plans for your considera- 
 tion. {Ra?idall and Delia pfoceed out r. followed by Robert 
 and Cornelia, who appear very attentive and affectionate. E^iter 
 front c. e. Olive Simmonds a7id Harry Walters. They both look 
 anxiously after Robert and Cornelia without being seen by thetn. 
 Harry shakes his head and says to Olive who seems somewhat 
 surprised) 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 25 
 
 Harry 
 
 With no lack of dilig-ence, I have still been unable to verify 
 your imagination. I have watched Robert and Cornelia at 
 every possible opportunity, and I have failed to discern any- 
 thing, but the zealous wooing, essential to successful courtship. 
 Olive {perplexed) 
 I am quite sure I was not dreaming. I did see her comport 
 herself in a manner unbecoming a dutiful sweetheart. Per- 
 haps they have been reconciled. She might have suffered a 
 temporary displeasure. 
 
 Harry 
 Robert is too kind, affable and obedient to displease anyone. 
 
 Olive {quickly) 
 You may persist in your incredulity; but you will yet have 
 an opportunity to acknowledge your lack of perception. 
 Harry {slowly) 
 And you believe then, that the outcome will be unfavorable 
 
 to either of them? 
 
 Olive 
 I am neither a prognosticator nor a sooth-sayer; but I fear 
 the result of a too changeable infatuation. She loves him; she 
 loves him not. A pent up incompatibility must eventually burst 
 
 asunder. 
 
 Harry 
 
 You say you have no suspicion of a rival? 
 
 Olive 
 I won't say that I have no suspicion: but I have no know- 
 ledge of any. 
 
 Harry 
 
 I am certain I have not the slightest idea who could come 
 between them. When I recollect the trouble, inconvenience, 
 and I might say possible danger they so willingly disregarded 
 in order to meet and make love; it seems almost too foolish to 
 believe that any earthly power could disunite them. I am ex- 
 ceedingly interested in this affair. Robert is a dear friend of 
 mine, and I will endeavor to learn whether it is he or you who 
 is suffering from this indefinite something. 
 
 Olive 
 
 I sincerely hope it is I. 
 {Enter from c. e. Maud Lewison and Franklin Bennett. They 
 join Olive and Harry.) Ah! Here is the woman's suffrage ag- 
 
26 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 itator {to Maud). Have you found any ready converts this 
 evening-? If w^e don't improve I fear our organization will have 
 to disband. 
 
 Maud 
 
 O, No! Indeed I I have a number of nev^^ followers; and a 
 great many pledges. We are drawing up a great bill to be 
 introduced into the Legislature. We expect it to pass without 
 one dissenting vote. By the way; did you hear that Franklin 
 is strongly mentioned as a possible candidate for Senator from 
 his district? And indeed if elected he will do everything, ev- 
 erything to push through a bill in which I am so greatly in- 
 terested. {Franklin looks aghast walks away disgusted with his 
 hands in his pockets. Returns stands nervously and shakes his 
 head) Isn't that so Franklin? 
 
 Franklin {excitedly) 
 Yes I Yes ! But — but — you should not — 
 
 Maud {inte7"} uptingly) 
 I should not, what! What should I not do? 
 
 Franklin {nefvously) 
 You ought not to make public my political intentions. You 
 must keep them secret. If the press should publish such an 
 absurd thing, it would sever my political fetus from the party 
 I represent. You should be careful, shrewd; your anxiety 
 might ruin my whole political career. Say nothing. Wait 
 until I am seated. Then, like all professional politicians, I 
 will do everything I promised, {walking with dignity) 
 
 Randall 
 I presume your private secretary makes no errors In compil- 
 ing your promises. 
 
 Franklin {with much dignity and apparent conceit) 
 I can't say that he does. A person in such capacity might 
 be too accurate. 
 
 Maud 
 When this measure is introduced, I will expect you to do 
 your duty. 
 
 Franklin {quickly) 
 I promise you. 
 
 Maud {vehemently) 
 Every man who votes against this bill ; seals his own perdition. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 27 
 
 Olive 
 
 Harry, I am very g-lad you are not a member of the legisla- 
 ture. I know your views too well. 
 
 Maud {to Olive) 
 Can't you win him over? Can't you make him a supporter 
 of our cause? You know it requires a great deal of push and 
 integrity to win at our game. Handicapped as we are by the 
 arbitrarj' insolence of all men. Some day not long hence, this 
 sphere will travel in a female orbit. Women will invade the 
 soft regime so long monopolized by avaricious men. 
 
 Harry 
 What a peculiar condition will exist should such a delusive 
 fantasm propagate. 
 
 Maud 
 It is neither a delusion nor a fantasy. I believe some wo- 
 men are perfectly competent, 
 
 Harry 
 Those women are opposed to woman's suffrage. 
 
 riaud 
 Only inasmuch as they fear its success. Did they believe it 
 was an eventual certainty, they would likewise be most de- 
 monstrative in its culmination. 
 
 Olive 
 I believe that good, honest, moral young women could infuse 
 a goodness into politics, which would expurgate them from the 
 extraneous abuses of trickery and deceit. 
 
 Franklin 
 Politics are the same now as any time previous. There is 
 more money in the world today; and there is more to buy. 
 
 riaud 
 Nay, I disagree with you. There is a new calling which I 
 doubt very much existed in our forefathers' time. The ''traf- 
 ficking in offices." From the highest to the lowest, they are 
 bought and sold. And so long as this condition is approved 
 by the commonalty; this glorious Republic will remain a pri- 
 vate paradise for a few. Should a man want a seat in the 
 Senate, he gets it providing he has a sufficient supply of mon- 
 ey, and is willing to prostitute his dignity and independence, 
 and become a fawning sycophant of domineering corporations 
 
28 ROBERT AND CORN1ELTA 
 
 and corrupt machines. Love of country and ability are un- 
 necessary and inferior qualifications. 
 
 Harry 
 I fear Miss Lewison, you are a misanthropist. 
 
 Franklin [to Maud) 
 What an ideal nation this would be, could such women as you 
 g-ain absolute control. No angel in heaven could look down 
 upon such a land and remain contented. 
 
 Olive 
 The coming generation will discuss how foolishly you young 
 men talked. 
 
 riaud 
 I believe we are upon the verge of a renaissance. The old 
 time simplicity and honesty will again prevail. The people 
 will demand a just consideration of their rights. Political 
 paupers and heelers will become an exterminated pest. An 
 honest man's vote will count. Every lover of pure government 
 will rejoice and the world will become better and wiser than 
 
 ever. 
 
 Harry 
 
 Were all the woman suffragists dead, the world would con- 
 tinue as it has been for the past hundreds of years; better and 
 wiser than ever. Each new year adds a brilliant page to the 
 book of reason. Woman is a commodity. A pleasing, artistic, 
 incarnated commodity. And like the commodity in the market' 
 her value depends upon supply and demand. Should she per- 
 sist in contaminating her unadulterated sweetness, by an in- 
 cessant and continual intercourse in the affairs of men. boring 
 and tiring them with foolish and unbecoming questions; mak- 
 ing her own presence a commercial necessity instead of a 
 longed for delight. Perhaps her company eventually grows 
 offensive, when it should impart a periodical revenue of pleas- 
 ure to his soul. A kiss may seal a promise to vote, instead of 
 a promise to marry. Women have everything to lose and not 
 anything to gain; unless it be to satisfy a capricious, fantas- 
 tical and vain idea, which inevitably produces a very unsatis- 
 factory result. Take my advice, young women and remain 
 the idols of the men. Keep them busy talking about your 
 charming personality, your talents and winning ways; not 
 about your political intentions, your party affiliations or why 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^TA 29 
 
 you voted for Mr. So-and-so. A good, wise man would feel 
 far more contented were his wife a dairy maid rather than the 
 female governor of the Empire State) Maud seems disgusted 
 
 and confused) . 
 
 Maud 
 There are all sorts of women, but those possessing wisdom 
 and morality must prevail. 
 
 Franklin 
 If Harry takes the stump, I am defeated. 
 
 riaud {with a slight laugh) 
 Then I will take the stump. 
 
 Olive 
 And I. 
 
 Franlclin 
 You would both make a very charming appearance upon the 
 platform. You would win a great deal of praise and admira- 
 tion, if you did not make any votes. 
 
 Olive 
 We would rather make the votes. 
 Harry 
 Now be candid, Olive. Would you prefer to be praised and 
 admired, or to gain a few votes and the next day be roasted in 
 all the papers? {a silence) I am quite certain one such expe- 
 rience would dampen your ardor for a political career. 
 
 Olive 
 Are not the men being continually roasted as you call it, in 
 the representative papers of the opposite party? We do not 
 expect to be exempt from such abuse. I believe we are quite 
 as well able as the men to endure it. 
 
 Maud 
 And the women will likewise conduct papers of their own. 
 
 Franklin 
 And woe be to the man who incurs their wrath. 
 
 Harry 
 I presume you will decline to acknowledge a male subscriber 
 or contributor. 
 
 Maud 
 No; ours will be a public paper, edited for the purpose of 
 spreading the cause of woman's rights. 
 
30 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Franklin {they proceed slowly to c. e. ) 
 
 Perhaps you would offer your services as a Leg-islative cor- 
 respondent. 
 
 Olive 
 
 Would it not seem strange for a time to see lady g-overnors, 
 lady mayors, ladies at the head of police departments and so 
 on. 
 
 Harry {with a smile) 
 
 And lady firemen and policemen. 
 
 {They exit laughing heartily c. e. to ■> . Enter from ;. Robert. 
 He appears sad and melancholy. He walks slowly to front I. 
 He is silent. He finally says sadly ifi a deep voice) 
 
 Robert 
 
 Misery unabridged ! O, Eternal Majesty. Would that 
 your humble suppliant could commune with thee awhile. How 
 comes ceaseless torture to so loyal a penitent. Have I been 
 guilty of some vile offence? Or hast Thou made this my hell, 
 that in my mossy sepulchre You may infuse the joys of life. 
 The Phrygian Tantalus was happier than I. To linger thus 
 in a mundane Tartarus, perturbs the calmest soul, suggests 
 the rashest deed. By a heroic impulse we are doomed to suf- 
 fer troubles manifold. To dispossess ones own soul is a most 
 cowardly act. O! That I could effect a climax to this pro- 
 tracted intercourse of inconsistent love. Indescribable feel- 
 ings; unutterable pain. With childish glee I Vv^atched the 
 floresence of our love; and a sudden chill made it an abortion. 
 Ol cruel fate. Unhappy man. I often wish I had never met 
 the girl I could love so fervently. Often she would chide me 
 were I a moment late. Now she cares not whether I come at 
 all. O Randall, I envy you your happiness. Soon to marry 
 the girl of your heart. The girl who is so true to you; who 
 loves you so devotedly. One of the sweetest girls in all the 
 land. She and Cornelia are the purest virgins in this mortal 
 zone. O! 'tis dreadful to think of. I know it will drive me 
 mad. {He appears nervous ayid restless. He places his hand 
 to his heart.) Of late I feel a very peculiar pain. Sometimes 
 in the head, again in the heart. Occasionally in both places. 
 A twitching of the muscles, a gurgling of the blood. As if 
 they were the symptoms of some woeful malady. That I 
 should suffer so! And all for love. And I do love. O! I love 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEIylA 31 
 
 her so. {Suddefily rushing up arid down as if mad.) Cornelia! 
 O, Cornelia! Your cruelty will kill me! {Randall enters c. e. 
 stands at door; watches Robert with amazement, unnoticed). I 
 cannot survive this torture, this misery, this pain! {with out- 
 stretched arms) O, death! sublime, beautiful, peaceful death! 
 Take this writhing sufferer from out this living hell! {Randall 
 approaches him quickly, grasps him by the arm, a?id in broken, 
 
 sympathetic tone says) 
 
 Randan 
 
 Robert! Why this unreasonable lamentation, this sorrowful 
 appeal? {Robert is surprised and embarrassed: he falls into 
 the arms of Randall who conducts him to a chair r. front.) 
 
 Robert 
 
 I am mad! I believe it, I am mad. {Burying his face in his 
 
 hafids) 
 
 Randall {sympathetically) 
 
 You ought not to allow your feelings to become so demon- 
 strative. I know your sufferings are intense. I know your 
 love for Cornelia. But come; brace up. It will all turn out 
 nicely in the end. You won her once; I am quite sure you can 
 
 win her again. 
 
 Robert 
 
 Then I was young, light-hearted and gay. Now I am des- 
 pondent, depressed and serious. Still,— I can not, I must not 
 lose her. {Grabbing Randall's hand.) I will brace up. I 
 will try again. If she has one spark of the old love left in her, 
 I will make every effort to inflame it. 
 
 Randall 
 
 Indeed you cannot afford to lose her. So Sweet, so beautiful. 
 
 The Gods have endowed her with every charm. A face as 
 
 pleasant as a summer sky; attractive as the rainbow. And 
 
 her lips — 
 
 Robert 
 
 Her lips — a perfect nectary. 
 
 Randall 
 
 As comely as a Venus, as sprightly as an elf, and a laugh 
 more musical than the nightingale. I can not censure you for 
 feeling bad. I know that the truest love suffers the greatest 
 pain. But I know you can win her over to you. I am quite 
 certain she still has some regard for you, notwithstanding her 
 actions to the contrary. 
 
32 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Robert [sadly) 
 
 Randall, I have seized and analyzed every hope. Each in- 
 gredient stultifies my most humble desire. There remains 
 nothing to do, but to accept the painful condition which pre- 
 vails. 
 
 Randall 
 
 Ofttimes the v^^aning day resuscitates what the rising sun 
 destroys. To accept a condition inappropriate is unbecoming 
 a man of your learning and ability. You are a victim of cir- 
 cumstances. Such ones are generally triumphant in the fickle 
 course of time. He is not half a man who would permit his 
 ambition to be destroyed, by unexpected adversities. The 
 morrow is by no means the product of today. 
 
 Robert 
 
 I would I could console myself with such optimism. We are 
 of vastly different sentiments. While you are willing to dote 
 upon what is liable to be; I am obliged to worry over what 
 really is. I have a perfect knowledge of the present; I am 
 ignorant of the future. One little moment, might change one's 
 whole career. You are certain of a happy climax to a safe 
 and tranquil love. 
 
 Randall 
 
 I would not hesitate to wager that the outcome of your love 
 affair will be as successful and favorable as mine, [cofifident- 
 ially) Young man you want to propose. Pardon me if I am 
 too officious; but the extreme love that exists between the two, 
 naturally incites a friendly rivalry. Cornelia could not bear to 
 remain at school without Delia. Neither would she be satis- 
 fied until she likewise made her debut. Now that Delia is 
 about to wed; she undoubtedly feels as though she would like 
 to do the same. Don't allow me to allure you into any 
 grave situations; but were I you — I would certainly make a 
 claim for her heart and hand. 
 
 Robert. 
 
 Why Randall! How can I propose to a girl who has con- 
 stantly endeavored to kill my intentions. Who has made me 
 the victim of a cruel rebuff. Who has done a thousand dif- 
 ferent things, which would have extinguished the last ray of 
 love in a less tenacious sweetheart than I. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 33 
 
 Randall 
 
 You must see her alone. Win her confidence. And in a 
 straig-ht forward manner hint at your purpose. Do not bore 
 her with a somniferous sermon. Do not tire her with premed- 
 itated discouise. The soul speaks a more euphonious langu- 
 age, than can be compounded by the brain. Do not hasten a 
 reply. Be gentle, suave and consoling. Remember this is one 
 of the most significant moments in a woman's life. It must be 
 brief; but to the point. 
 
 Robert 
 
 I am sure I shall have no such opportunity this evening. 
 When I leave this house to-night, I shall never face the em- 
 barrassment to return to it again. Let come what will; I 
 shall be done. 
 
 Randall 
 
 Can we not arrange for an interview this evening? There 
 would be no impropriety in your monopolizing her company 
 for a short time, under the circumstances. Leave it to me. 
 {proceeding toward c. e.) I shall very soon have her in your 
 presence. {Exits c. e. to r. Robert is seated at front right. 
 He is nervoiis anxious and thoughtful. He is wrapped i7i con- 
 temptation. He sits silently, staring in the same direction. 
 In a short time Cornelia enters c. e. She hesitates; she looks 
 smilingly at Robert, who does not see her. She suddenly rushes 
 forward with outstretched arms as if to embrace him. She stops 
 suddenly and in a low and sympathetic voice says) 
 
 Cornelia 
 
 You have sent for me Robert; I have come. 
 Robert {rising to greet her) 
 
 I have requested the pleasure of a personal interview. 
 
 {She becomes seated. He remains standing behind her.) 
 Cornelia {surprised) 
 
 An interview! And for what! 
 
 Robert {affectionately) 
 
 To ascertain if possible whether it would be policy to con- 
 tinue as sweethearts or — friends. Do you not recollect, how 
 we sat before a smiling audience of stars, in a little corner 
 not far from your house, and declared our love forone another? 
 Do you remember how you questioned my ardor : How you 
 
34 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 feared my troth. You were fearfully apprehensive, list some 
 day I would leave you. I did not question your faithfulness, I 
 felt confident your love would bloom until the harvest time. 
 Cornelia we were always confidential sweethearts. Whether 
 we are now I know not. But tell me candidly; don't you love 
 me any more? Is my company tiresome? Do I fail to please? 
 Am I so different now, than when we met stealthily beneath 
 the bowers at Kenwood? Would it be too pertinent to ask the 
 author of the chang-e? Are there any defects I might remedy 
 which would induce you to love me? Believe me, sweetheart, 
 {takes her hand) should I accomplish more than any man in 
 the world. I would think I had done nothing-, until — I have 
 won this hand, {Cornelia becomes restless) Nay, be not dis- 
 turbed, I love you, Cornelia, I love you. (A brief silence. 
 She tries not to meet his eyes. He leans forward he finally 
 catches her gaze. She makes an effort to embrace him.. She 
 hesitates; she looks steadily into his eyes for a moment then 
 rushes into hit arms.) 
 
 Cornelia 
 Robert! I — I love you too; but we can never, never be any 
 more than sweethearts. 
 
 Robert {astonished) 
 Cornelia! You say this. 
 
 Cornelia {excitedly) 
 O, forg-ive me Robert. You are to me the best man in the 
 world. I love you more than I would dare to tell. But I could 
 not, I would not marry any man. {Robert is sad and depres- 
 sed). 
 
 Robert {excitedly) 
 What an unreasonable, an unkind excuse. How ridiculous! 
 You love me; and you refuse to marry any man. There is the 
 odor of guilt in the air. I am not in a position to speak my 
 mind. But I can however, draw my own conclusions. 
 Cornelia {vexed) 
 You are not content with my refusal. You are endeavoring 
 to arouse my ill will. Very well then, since you would as 
 soon be hated as loved, it is indifferent to me. But remember, 
 of all the men on this globe, I love only you. 
 
 Robert {looking at her with surprise) 
 If you hated me you would cause me less pain. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 35 
 
 Cornelia {laughing) 
 Why Robert, how foolishly you talk. 
 Robert 
 
 Ay! And how foolishly you act. Cornelia you are not the 
 same. Nol Nol You are not the same. {Robert Is gfave and 
 serious. Cornelia laughs heartily. Robert tuins suddenly and 
 says in a sad voice.) Look with derision if you will, 
 upon this abused tabernacle, in which 1 have nurtured your 
 superficial love. {He strikes an attitude. Cornelia looks away 
 f^om him with sadness). 
 
 —CURTAIN- 
 
 ACT III. j 
 
 Scene^ same as Act II. Time, the same. j 
 
 Enter from I. e. Franklin Bennett and Harry Wallet s. They \ 
 
 proceed to front. \ 
 
 Harry {on entering) \ 
 
 You believe then, that your nomination is assured? j 
 
 Franklin 
 I rather think so. 
 
 Harry {inquistively) \ 
 
 And your election? | 
 
 Franklin. \ 
 
 As to that I can't say; although our party is exceedingly j 
 
 strong in my district. j 
 
 Harry j 
 
 The chances are greatly in your favor. I would like very i 
 
 much to see you a State Senator. You will have an excellent 
 opportunity to display your ability as an orator. 
 Franklin 
 Yes; but Harry the cares necessarily arising out of such a j 
 
 position, are already accumulating. They are displeasing, 
 and many of them place me in a very disagreeable position. ■ 
 
 . i 
 
36 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Harry 
 
 You should not let them bother you. Learn to say "yes" 
 and "no." Do not be too independent. In up-to-date politics, 
 you have got to be a menial. Your party will have no use for 
 you unless you are willing to obey. In this great Republic, 
 there are two or three kings, who constantly cajole and de- 
 ceive a soft and lenient peasantry. It seems absurd and rid- 
 culous nevertheless it is a fact, that in this great land of civ- 
 ilization and learning, free schools and free libraries; the people 
 seem perfectly willing to permit a few political speculators to 
 choose for them. 
 
 Franklin 
 
 I am not concerned about my constituents. I fear I am go- 
 ing to place myself in a very unpleasant predicament should I 
 accept the nomination if tendered me. 
 
 Harry 
 You are only just finding this out? Is it a question of con- 
 science? 
 
 Franklin {slowly) 
 No, — It is a question of love. 
 
 Harry 
 Love and politics ought to harmonize. They are both so 
 uncertain. 
 
 Franklin 
 I fear, should I be nominated and elected, social complica- 
 tions will ensue. I am delighted with the idea of being a 
 Senator. It is the height of my ambition. It is the dream of 
 my childhood ; the desire of my youth. I have been working 
 for it a long time. Now, the attainment of such an office is 
 bound to cause me an abundance of concern. 
 
 Harry 
 If you are successful, you will readily find a remedy for 
 your apprehension. 
 
 Franklin 
 I believe quite the opposite. The more successful I become 
 in politics, the more disastrous will be my love affairs. 
 Harry [surprised) 
 I can't understand how your success in politics is going to 
 prove so fatal otherwise. I am quite sure yonr sweetheart 
 would rejoice. Miss Lewison is a bright intelligent young 
 lady; and will easily realize your exalted rank. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^TA 37 
 
 Franklin {confidingly) 
 Harry, she will realize it too well. It is she, who will 
 cause me all my uneasiness. 
 
 Harry {surprised) 
 Why! This is a revelation. 
 
 Franklin 
 Her interest in politics is going to handicap my success as a 
 statesman, and greatly retard my future advancement. 
 
 Harry 
 Has she already become such an important factor in politics? 
 
 Franklin 
 In this way. Should I follow out my carefully projected 
 plans; I will lose her; and that I can not, I will not do, for I 
 love her. {Harry looks at him with amazement.) I know it 
 appears foolish to you, but if you will promise me the strictest 
 secrecy I will tell you all. 
 
 Harry 
 You can rely upon my promise. ( They draw closer). 
 
 Franklin {with confidence) 
 It has long been my most cherished desire, to be a great 
 statesman and an orator. 
 
 Harry {interruptingly) 
 I know you are a very able speaker. You took many prizes 
 at college. 
 
 Franklin. 
 My greatest ambition was to make a famous speech in the 
 Senate. When I was mentioned for a nominee, my hopes be- 
 came radiant. In an ecstasy of delight I set about studying 
 the political outlook. I wanted to make a virgin speech in 
 which the whole world would be interested. At first I was 
 in a quandary. Then a great question suggested itself. A 
 question that has been humorously and seriously agitated all 
 over the land. I learned that a bill for the enactment of such 
 a law was to be introduced at the next session. I thought my 
 great opportunity had come. I made a careful study of the 
 question; was impressed with its great opportunities for lofty 
 oratory and brilliant language, and declared in a fit of con- 
 fidence, that I would kill the bill. I intended it should be the 
 speach of my life. I fancied, I would become famous in a sin- 
 gle night. 
 
38 robp:rt and Cornelia 
 
 Harry {enquiringly) 
 And you are disappointed? 
 
 Franklin {with a sigh) 
 Imagine my feelings, when I learned that the most interest- 
 ed party in the bill; one of the framers; one of the leading ad- 
 vocates; one of its most enthusiastic supporters; — is the girl I 
 love. All my boasted fame and honor has vanished. I was 
 tickled with the possibility of a great future. Now I am mis- 
 erable and dejected. 
 
 Harry 
 
 You are not so foolish, as to permit yonr love to change the 
 whole course of your life. You are young, ambitious and in- 
 telligent. Should you reach the goal to which you aspire, you 
 are destined to be one of the greatest men of your time. Pro- 
 ceed in your liking, young man. Fame, fortune, reverence 
 and honor await you. 
 
 Franklin {thoughtfully) 
 Would all this fame and honor sufficiently compensate me 
 for the loss of my sweetheart? 
 
 Harry 
 You alone can answer that. I know not the value of your 
 sweetheart, but I do know the grandeur of a longed for suc- 
 cess. 
 
 Franklin 
 
 But, when a success necessitates such a heavy loss. 
 
 Harry 
 
 That is not worth striving for, which is not worth a great 
 
 sacrifice. 
 
 Franklin 
 
 I know Harry, but you can't realize how I love her. 
 
 Harry 
 
 If she loves you, as she ought to, she would never suffer 
 
 your absence for politics. And if she does not — then it is best 
 
 that you lose her. {Enter at this time frotn c. e. Olive and 
 
 Mailed, They are laughing tnerrily and are immediately seen 
 
 by Harry and F7 anklin, who advance to meet them) 
 
 Maud 
 
 An odor of secrecy emanates from the room. 
 
 Olive 
 
 Perhaps we disturbed an important consultation. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 39 
 
 Harry 
 
 Not at all; we were simply discussing the topica of the day. 
 
 Maud 
 And the political outlook. 
 
 Franklin {slowly) 
 Yes; and the success of the coming campaign. 
 
 Maud 
 We girls are very much interested in this campaign. I im- 
 agine it will mean much for us. 
 
 Harry 
 I sincerely hope your expectations may be realized. Until 
 then you will fail to comprehend how harmful they are. In- 
 culcations are productive of ill will. 
 
 Maud 
 I am very thankful you are not a candidate for the legisla- 
 ture. You would do your best to defeat our purpose. 
 
 Harry 
 I would do it with the conscientious belief that I was doing 
 your sex a favor. 
 
 Olive 
 How ridiculously absurd. You would be a lone participant 
 
 of the favor. 
 
 Harry 
 
 I would prefer to be alone in that which appeared right; 
 than to be with the multitude in what I considered wrong. 
 Maud {to Harry. Franklhi looks worried) 
 Don't you think Franklin's chances for election are excellent 
 should he be nominated? 
 
 Harr 
 They certainly are. 
 
 Franklin 
 I am not the least concerned about either. Should I not get 
 the nomination it would be immaterial to me. 
 
 Maud 
 Why, Franklin! You often told me how anxious you were 
 for a successful political career. You even told me you 
 would never be happy until you had accomplished a certain 
 object. You can't deny that that object was to be a Senator. 
 Why should you change at this late day? Can it be possible 
 
40 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 that you possess a latent fear of defeat? Are you dissatisfied 
 with your party? Are you not aware that the next session 
 will give you the greatest opportunities to make yourself 
 famous? {Franklin appears uneasy). 
 
 Olive 
 The whole world will watch with awe and admiration the 
 proceedings of the coming session. 
 
 Franklin 
 I will admit that I was exceedingly desirous of a political 
 career. I was ambitious and anxious as you say. But we 
 know not what is in store for us. I was ignorant at the time 
 of what has since changed my mind. 
 
 Maud 
 And you are going to decline the nomination? 
 
 Harry 
 Certainly not. I can't believe he would do anything so 
 foolish. 
 
 Olive 
 I believe he is jesting. He realizes the great value he will 
 be to our cause; and evidently is trying to annoy us. He is 
 too discreet and judicious not to seize so grand an opportunity. 
 
 Franklin 
 Since then I have perceived an idea which should it be suc- 
 cessful will be more pleasing and felicitous than a successful 
 politician. I have not however made any intimation that my 
 refusal of the nomination was forthcoming. By so doing I 
 would incur the disrespect of my party, and the enmity of 
 many personal friends. 
 
 Olive 
 You are probably at a loss to know which to do. 
 
 Harry 
 It is impossible to become equally successful in two widely 
 different and important parts. Versatility has destroyed 
 many a probable genius. You must seek your ideal. Con- 
 centrate all your functions into one sublime thought. Then 
 with an indomitable determination soar to your mortal 
 meridian. Let nothing change your purpose. Ambition 
 breeds distress. Genius is a single thought, fostered by de- 
 sire, developed by resolve and terminated by a happy action. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 41 
 
 Maud 
 
 I also believe, that a person should make a choice and fol- 
 low it regardless of apparently better offers. Franklin is 
 probably rejoicing- over the advent of a more lucrative idea. I 
 sincerely hope he will use good judgment and not ignore a 
 sweetheart's advice. 
 
 Franklin {quickly) 
 I elect you my confidante and will with pleasure discuss 
 the .affair, with you. {They proceed out c. e. followed by Harry 
 and Olive. Enter from r. e. Robert and Delia, Robert seems 
 very much depressed. He is sad, gloomy and nervous; occasion- 
 ally placing his ha7id to his heart. They proceed to I. fro7it. He 
 walks slowly and unsteadily; indicatiug great suffering.) 
 Delia [pathetically) 
 Robert, why should you seek an intervention. I am sure I 
 am powerless to bring back her love. You can do more than 
 I. My efforts would not only be futile, but might incite ridi- 
 cule. And I would feel awfully bad did I undertake a task 
 that would add to your misery. I know your extreme love for 
 her. You have my heartfelt sympathy. I would do anything 
 in my power to assist you. To bring back to your face those 
 sweet smiles, that cheerful countenance with which you cap- 
 tivated all the girls. Come, Robert, can't you learn to forget 
 her when you know she is so cruel to you? [a bfief silence) 
 Robert [with e^notion) 
 What would I not give could I but forget for one short mo- 
 ment this unkind rebuif . 
 
 Delia {consolingly) 
 It will be hard I know; but you should persevere. 
 
 Robert {with emotion) 
 O, Delia! Do believe me; I would sooner die than lose her 
 love. Do not think I am demented; do not think me foolish. I 
 am perfectly rational. A fervent, an ardent affection has 
 been suddenly supplanted by rejection and abuse. Won't you 
 intercede, and possibly save two lovers from inevitable vio- 
 lence? Cornelia loves you; no one else on earth can exert such 
 influence. I know you can help me. Come to the rescue of a 
 broken hearted lover; and gain the approbation of the Gods. 
 
42 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Delia {pathetically) 
 I am at a loss to know how to g-o about it. I have no liking 
 for the task; but since you desire it I will play my part. I 
 would do many things to see you yourself again. But what to 
 say or how to begin I know not. I must beexceedinsrly scrupu- 
 lous in dealing with one of such nervous temperament. Have 
 you any suggestion to make? Perhaps you can guide me in 
 the right direction. 
 
 Robert {thoughtfully) 
 I have no suggestion to make; unless j'^ou offer her some in- 
 ducement. 
 
 Delia 
 
 The least inducement is too exorbitant for such ungrateful 
 love {a brief silence . Robert in deep meditation, Delia con- 
 tinues slowly) Robert, I know Cornelia is a sweet girl. No one 
 could help but like her. She was the idol of the school. She 
 stood like a fabled muse apart from the others. But I know 
 other girls who regard you with more favor. Among them I 
 could hear commenting upon your graces. There are others 
 besides Cornelia whom you would learn to love. I do not tell 
 you this to flatter you; nor to do any injustice to Cornelia; 
 but to inform you how absurd it appears to worry over a 
 faithless girl, when so many true girls admire you with ven- 
 eration. 
 
 Robert {quickly) 
 
 Rather would I be loved by the one I love, than to be admir- 
 ed by all the world. {Delia walks oceasionally to c. e. as if 
 looking fo7 someone). 
 
 Delia {after looking out c. e.) 
 
 I thought perhaps she might steal in upon us. Lately she 
 wants to be near me all the time. I do not want her to know 
 that my discourse in your behalf, is the result of your solicita- 
 tion. 
 
 Robert 
 
 Delia, I will make every effort to conceal it. It would be 
 most embarassing to me did she know it. 
 
 Delia 
 
 I must do my utmost to reconcile you. Randall and I would 
 not care to have a "best man" and "bridesmaid" at odds. 
 Robert {confidingly) 
 
 I hope you will succeed. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 43 
 
 Delia {again looking out c. e.) 
 I believe I will, Robert. She is a real sweet g-irl. I imagine 
 her perverseness wholly due to some nervous affection. She 
 could not with equanimity have any knowledge of the wrong she 
 is doing the man she was wont to love. How pleased she would 
 be to have us speak of 3'^ou. She would ask, her eyes beaming 
 with delight, you think this, you think that, and a thousand 
 other questions equally interesting and sincere. It is indeed 
 provocative of regret, this unhappy change. 
 
 Robert 
 Ay 'tis pitiful. And not long since, we satin fond embrace, 
 encouraged by the sanction of the stars. 
 
 Delia 
 That I well know. For often did I fear that she and you 
 would wed. Thus taking from me the dearest friend I had. 
 
 Robert 
 How strangely time intercepts the conception of our joy. 
 Now, we have been thrust by fickleness from the marital 
 font; and you are to be -wed — [thinking) 
 Delia {joyously) 
 At "Hymentide" the beautiful month of June. 
 
 Robert 
 What happiness does lay in store for some. Randall is a 
 luckier boy than I. The greatest grief that can befall -a man 
 is to see his richest hopes scattered to the dust. 
 
 Delia 
 Then is his chance to show his fortitude. For he is indeed 
 a hero who fights the obstacles of time and successfully 
 mounts the ramparts of privation. 
 
 Robert 
 And others there are who have no obstacles to fight; and 
 never suffer the feelings of privation. 
 
 Delia 
 To them all things seem artificial. The greatest joy is in 
 the result of your own labor. 
 
 Robert {thoughtfully) 
 
 Delia, believe me I can not endure this unpleasantness any 
 
 longer. I must depart. Everything about the place seems to 
 
 spurn me. My eyes seem to rest on nothing but that they 
 
 offend. The very atmosphere distills a feeling of contemp it 
 
44 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 I must leave here instantlJ^ Mj^ conscience compels me to go. 
 
 Delia 
 Oh! do not insist upon it. I am sure you will be pleased 
 with the result of my interriew. I will bring Coenelia to 
 your arms again. 
 
 Robert 
 I doubt it too much. I thought you might be able to recon- 
 cile us; but I fear otherwise. And I can remain here no 
 longer and suffer any further indignit3% ^ly presence is off- 
 ensive to Cornelia, irksome to me. 
 
 Delia 
 O, Robert can I not plead with you? Won't you please re- 
 main? I know your departure will displease her. 
 Robert {with veheynence) 
 Delia, I must go. To be candid this continual torture is 
 killing me. Constant anguish not even relieved by an occas- 
 ional interlude. Although you may read my discontent, I 
 conceal my feelings better than you know. It is folly for me 
 to continue in this unceasing anxiety. Life is too brief; death 
 is too possible. 
 
 Delia {anxio2isly) 
 Since you insist upon going will you promise me j'ou will 
 see Cornelia and bid her good-by? You will not leave her 
 abruptly? Do not cause her any grief on the evening of her 
 debut. 
 
 Robert 
 Were I to do her ten thousand wrongs, I would not cause 
 her one half the grief she has already caused me. I will 
 nevertheless, bid her good-bye. I will see you again, Delia 
 before I go, and am very grateful to you {proceeding to r. e.) 
 for your sympathy and kind regard. I look forward to the 
 day when my God will place me on an equal with other men, 
 that I might share their joys and help them in their misfor- 
 tunes. I will endeavor to forget that I ever knew such a girl 
 as Cornelia Phorbes. But I know I can't. With all this 
 quibbling I do love her yet. I must, I will depart {exit r. e.) 
 Delia {lookifig tenderly after him) 
 O, poor soul! Never was there such a true and honest lover. I 
 dopityhim. Could I but reconcile them I would fill his heart with 
 joy. It is so dreadfully strange a strangeness that forebodes 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI,TA 45 
 
 some fearful consequence. I can not believe it. Cornelia loved 
 him with all the love that a pure, true g-irl is capable of. She 
 fairly idolized that man. She often told me at the academy of 
 her ardent affection for him. How she stealthily crept from 
 her abode and met him. What pleasant moments they spent 
 tog-ether. What excellent company he was. That while in 
 his embrace the world seemed to extend no further than they 
 could see. She extolled his virtue and commended his integ- 
 rity. O, it must not, it shall not be. I will hasten to Robert 
 and entreat him to stay. {She starts and proceeds quickly to r. 
 e. Enter at this titne Mr. and Mrs. Phorbes. Delia stops sud- 
 denly. ) 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Ah; Miss Delia; why this haste? 
 
 Delia {excitedly) 
 I — I was going to see Randall. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 We just left him talking with Cornelia. 
 
 Delia 
 And Robert; (a brief pause) did you see him? 
 
 Mr. Phorbes {quickly) 
 Yes; he passed us in the hall. He appeared ill. He had a 
 worried look on his face. I remarked to my wife that he must 
 be ill. But he brushed past us in great haste. We had not 
 the time to enquire. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 I believe he is inclined to be a trifle pensive at times, 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Perhaps Cornelia's indifference has caused him a little un- 
 easiness. I have observed, that for two such reputed sweet- 
 hearts, they have been together very little this evening, {to 
 Delia) Is that not so Delia? 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 Cornelia has so many of her friends present, that she is a 
 little confused. 
 
 Delia 
 
 I must admit I have seen them together very little. But as 
 Mrs. Phorbes says, so many of her friends are preeent that 
 some one must naturally be unintentionally overlooked. 
 
46 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 I believe it is Robert. I don't like it one bit. He is my 
 ideal of a man. He has no equal this side of Peter's Gate. 
 Mrs. Phorbes. 
 Cornelia often remarked how exceedingly sensitive he is. 
 He is a steady, true hearted, temperate young- man. He does 
 not g-o around, as they say, like others, but is content to live in 
 simple quietude. An exceptional man I must confess. 
 
 Delia 
 A submissive youth; fettered b}' excess of sobriety to the 
 stinging- thoughts of love. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 I will see him before the evening's festivities are ended. 
 Extend to him my compliments and make it as pleasant and 
 home like for him as possible, I will discourse with him, and 
 make it evident that we hold him in the highest esteem. For 
 all the world loves an honest man. 
 
 Delia (proceeding to r. e.) 
 I will leave you now and join Randall and Corwelia. {Exitr. e.) 
 
 Mr.s. Phorbes {looking after Delia) 
 If an5^thing ever happened Cornelia I would love to have Delia 
 for a daughter. I like her more than any girl I ever saw. 
 Mr. Phorbes [with a sigh) 
 The world is full of trouble. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes [astofiished) 
 What! Fresh trouble brewing? 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 It seems as though this night was adapted for man}' evils. 
 Trouble and rumors of trouble agitate the tranquil soul. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {startled) 
 What now ! 
 
 Mr. Phorbes {with a sigh) 
 
 Mr. Walters was telling me confidentially this evening that 
 a very disagreeable and unpleasant breach was imminent. 
 That two lovers were on the verge of a disruption. That ere 
 long we shall behold a pitiful catastrophe; proceeding out of 
 a condition now impending. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 Cupid is a crafty demon, thus to frolic in the mischief he 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 47 
 
 creates. Who may I ask, are the poor souls whose fate is 
 left to his cunning-. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Mr. Bennett, they say, bids well to be the next candidate 
 for Senator. Thus dawned upon him the dream of his early 
 youth. The cherished intent of precocious childhood, was 
 fashioning into a fact to be. He thought he saw before him a 
 conquered road to fame. Rut alas! Cruel fate; its jealous 
 hand, thrust heavily on his brow. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {interrtiptingly) 
 Have all his chances fled? Can he not be elected? 
 
 rir. Phorbes {quickly) 
 Ay; the election he is sure of. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes [anxiously) 
 Then why all this anxiety when his object shall be attain- 
 ed? 
 
 Mr. Phorbes {explaining) 
 
 It seems that he anticipates a loss more enormous than the 
 good which is attained. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes. 
 A successful politician must certainly make some enemies. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 But to make an enemy of the one you love the most, is indeed 
 the cause of much compunction. By diligence and tedious 
 lucubration he has cleverly constructed a speech of vast im- 
 portance. That speech, thought he, would be the author of 
 his fame. The greatest question of the day was to be settled 
 by his virgin utterance. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes. 
 Perhaps he soared too lofty at a single flight. The more 
 substantial the foundation, the higher we may build. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 With greatest care he marked the extent of his ability. 
 What we gain by toil and perseverence, may be lost by accid- 
 ent. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {enquiringly) 
 Had he no presentiment of this seemingly probable loss? 
 Did he not know of its possibility? 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Not until very recently. You see, he never suspected mis- 
 
48 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 fortune springing- from such a source. If he were elected, it 
 was his desire to kill a certain bill which is to be introduced 
 into the legislature. No one will doubt his power as an ora_ 
 tor. Knowing the great significance of this bill, he studied 
 its defects very assiduously, and accordingly prepared an effi- 
 cient speech. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes [inquisitively) 
 
 And, are they not going to introduce the bill? 
 Hr. Phorbes {qusckly) 
 
 They are indeed. Mr. Bennett's sweetheart is an enthusias- 
 tic member of the "Woman's Club," and one of the staunch- 
 est advocates of the bill. She has been delegated to be pre- 
 sent at all proceedings. It is even stated that she is respon- 
 sible for certain sections of the bill. She expects him to help 
 her in its enactment. She firmly believes he is in sympathy 
 with her movement. He on the contrary is strenuously op- 
 posed to it. Now, does it not appear evident that a breach is 
 inevitable? 
 
 rirs. Phorbes {calmly) 
 
 Not necessaril}\ It will undeniably demonstrate which is 
 the stronger, love or politics. 
 
 Hr. Phorbes (enquiringly) 
 
 You believe then that a pacification is possible? 
 firs. Phorbes {qtiickly) 
 
 Not only possible, but probable. It is not at all likelj^ that 
 she will tolerate the interpolation of politics into a desirable 
 courtship. 
 
 rir. Phorbes 
 
 From what I understand she will. There is not another 
 lady in the land so interested, as is his sweetheart. 
 rirs. Phorbes 
 
 I can not believe that she would prefer the uncertainties of 
 politics to the unquestionable endearment of the man she 
 loves. 
 
 rir. Phorbes {going toward I. e. followed by Mrs. Phorbes) 
 
 In this great age there is no telling what ought or ought not 
 to be. An indescribable something seems to govern all events. 
 The hours of the night are shrinking. A short time and the 
 night will have been spent, {they proceed out I. e. together. 
 Enter at this time from c, e. Randall^ Delia and Cornelia. Cor. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 49 
 
 enlia is very attentive and affectio7iate toward Delia. They 
 proceed to left. ) 
 
 Cornelia {on entering) 
 It does displease me much to see him g-o. That my conduct 
 should be offensive to him, may be plausible to others but un- 
 reasonable to me. 
 
 Delia [sadly) 
 I remonstrated with him but to no purpose. He said, his 
 speech impeded by g^rief, I must go; I shall go; and hastily 
 left the room. 
 
 Cornelia [sadly) 
 Why did you not follow him Delia, and entreat him to re- 
 turn. 
 
 Randall [interruptingly) 
 Are you sure he has gone. Did you see him leave the 
 house? 
 
 Cornelia [anxiously to Delia ) 
 Did you Delia? Did you see him leave? Did he appear 
 vexed? 
 
 Delia [slowly) 
 No, I did not see him leave. I hastened after him as he left 
 the room. Your folks entered at this time and your father 
 wondered at my haste. Not to arouse any suspicion I told 
 them I was g"oing- to Randall. Then I was detained by re- 
 verence for their conversation. I have not see him since. 
 Cornelia {sorrowfully) 
 He left no message; not a word for me? 
 
 Randall 
 Did he not explain the reason for his departure? 
 
 Delia [hesitatingly) 
 No; He left no word. 
 
 Cornelia 
 Nor a reason? 
 
 Delia {pathetically) 
 I believe, Cornelia, you know well the reason. 
 
 Cornelia [quickly) 
 O, Delia 1 Please do not torment me, I could suffer a re- 
 tort from any lips but yours. I'he least unkindness from you 
 would drive me mad. Because I love you so. 
 Randall [to Delia) 
 Did he not intimate the slig-htest cause? 
 
50 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Delia 
 
 He said, that to stay would cause him too much pain. I 
 could see from his actions, that it pained him much to leave. 
 
 Randall \,to Cornelia) 
 
 Cornelia: I fear you have been lacking- in your attention to 
 him. He is so exceedingly sensitive, and his love is so de- 
 vout, that the least inattention would impel him to the most 
 profound meditation. If you will pardon the candor, you 
 have been most abstemious in your affections to-night. 
 Whether it was due to oversig-ht or intentional I know not. 
 
 Delia 
 
 He also complained to me of your coolness and indifference. 
 You know Cornelia that you love him, then why treat him so. 
 Cornelia {sadly) 
 
 I did love him, Delia. But now [she stops suddenly , Randall 
 and Delia look in astonishment. Cornelia continues sadly) 
 now; I don't dislike him. I love him, but, not so much. 
 Randall ( inqu isi lively ) 
 
 Can it be possible, that any one could come between you 
 and Robert? Can I believe it? Am I not, deceived? 
 
 Delia 
 
 Cornelia, if j'ou were aware of the g-rief you cause so true 
 and faithful a lover, I am sure you would be moved to pit}-. 
 Can I not persuade you to ag-ain open your arms to him. It 
 isn't possible that such fervent love could die in so short a 
 time. The happiness in store for Randall and me perhaps 
 magnifies his discontent. Be reconciled Cornelia, I beg of 
 you, {conjidentially to Cornelia) and possibly you may enjoy a 
 like event. How pleasing it would be to both of us. Once 
 school girls together, now two happy brides. And it would 
 also fill the heart of a loyal sweetheart with joy. 
 
 Cornelia 
 
 O, Delia, do not talk to me so foolishly. I would not, I 
 could not marry any man. I loved Robert I know {at this time 
 Robert enters c. e. he has on his coat, he carries his beaver and 
 gloves in one hand, his cane in the othet. He has a sad expres- 
 sion, but a dignijied, manly bearing. Randall and Delia see 
 him enter. Delia takes a few steps to I. remains standing in a 
 sad, contemplative mood, with her eyes on Robett. Randall like- 
 
ROBERT AND CORNKLIA 51 
 
 wise withdraws a few paces to right. His countenance and at- 
 titude should suggest a feeling of grave anxiety. Cornelia is 
 statiding by stand left front. Unaware of Robeifs presence she 
 continues. Robert has approached her. He stands in a dignifi- 
 ed attitude, directly behind her) but notwithstanding- my sin- 
 cere love for him I never entertained such a thought as matri- 
 mony. I knew our love affair was becoming- serious. I felt 
 that some day he might expect to marry me. Would it not be 
 better to dampen his ardor now, than to break his heartlater? 
 It is as painful to me as it is to him. His love is no stronger 
 than my love. He stands an exception to all mankind. 
 To eulogize him would be superfluous. His probity is a 
 maxim on the tongue of human kind. I would kiss him, I 
 would love him; I would extoU him to the Gods, I would com- 
 mend him to his peers; but- {sadly) but I could not marry him. 
 {vehemently) There is but one in this whole world whom I 
 would marry, and that is — {she turns and observes Robert, who 
 maintains the greatest composure. Randall and Delia remain 
 absorbed in astonishment. Cornelia is surprised, bewildered 
 and co7ifused, she eyes him for a mofuent, then turns about in 
 embarrassm,ent and distress. There is a silence. Finally Rob- 
 ert says in a low, soft, tnelancholy voice.) 
 
 Robert 
 
 Cornelia, this evening-'s course has pained me much. I 
 could no long-er tolerate its inconsistency. Your conduct to- 
 ward me was cruel, undeserved, and most unkind. It un- 
 nerved me to receive such treatment from the one who loved 
 me most. I say you loved me; I would not charge you with 
 being a dissembler. I thoug-ht it would be better for both of 
 us did I leave. You were so cool to me, I thought perhaps 
 my presence offended you. I did not know you feared so 
 much the result of a faithful courtship. Had I known it soon- 
 er, I would have tried hard to relieve you. To marry the 
 man you do not love is to tempt disatisfaction. If you antici- 
 pate any uneasiness from my continued adoration, you do 
 wisely in rejecting me. I came not to reproach you, Cornelia 
 you know too well how I love you. At this time let us forget 
 all that has occurred, I am on a simple mission, but 'tis the 
 most unpleasant task of my life. When you are entertaining 
 your children with the fables so dear to their hearts, do not 
 
52 KOBET?T AND CORNELIA 
 
 forget to tell them the story of our love. When you are clasp- 
 ing- your suckling-s to your lactiferous bosom, look back so 
 far and think of the man who loved you best of all. Cornelia, 
 the night has no pleasure in store for me. Therefore I believe 
 there is no impropriety in my departure. It pains me much to 
 go; it pains you should I sta3^ I could not leave however, 
 without bidding you good-bye. {He advances very close to her. 
 She stands with her left hand on stand, the other to her lips. He 
 gently grasps, her right hand, lowers it from her lips, squeezes 
 it tenderly in his own, and with his other hand on her left 
 shouldet , looking affectionately into her eyes, he says softly. ) 
 Tis too cruel to bid good bye without the usual accompani- 
 ment. ( There is a brief silence. Robert draws her tenderly 
 backward a7id kisses her fondly on the lips. He then waits an- 
 xiously for her to speak. She remaifis silent and apparently 
 moved.) Good-bye Cornelia! {kissing her. He breaks from her 
 softly and stands directly behind her as if expecting her to speak. 
 Delia turns her head as if in teats. Randall is greatly moved, 
 Cornelia stands fnotionless. After a brief silence Robert says) 
 
 Robert. 
 
 Cornelia, — Good bye {and walks backward, his eyes on 
 Cornelia, off stage at c. e. Randall walks slowly after Robert. 
 He stands in c. e. for a moment. Looks after Robert, looks in 
 at Cornelia, then hastens off stage at c. e. Delia remains in her 
 sam,e position enveloped in grief. Cornelia turns cautiously, as 
 if to see if he were gone. She suddenly espies Delia. She 
 frantically fushes at hef, kisses he f, hugs her and in a wildjrenzy 
 says) 
 
 Cornelia {hysterically) 
 
 Willingly would I lose all in this world; to enjoy the bound- 
 less sweetness of your love. Delia forgive my creulty to Robert, 
 it is all for you. 
 
 Delia {astonished) 
 
 For me I Why Cornelia; what do you mean? 
 Cornelia {quickly) 
 
 I mean; that I will allow no human being to intercept the 
 progress of our love. That no man can disunite us after those 
 many years of inseparable attachment. Would you suffer it 
 Delia? Would you see our long reign of mutual affection de- 
 stroyed by vulgar man? Can you look without feeling upon 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA . 53 
 
 the dissolution of our girlish vows. That we would never mar- 
 ry any man nor cease to love each other? That forever we 
 would remain the sole delig-ht of each other. I have waited 
 patiently all the evening- for this opportunity to see you alone. 
 To remind you, that you do me wrong- {a short silence, then in 
 a low voice) by marrying Randall Phillips. 
 Delia {astonished) 
 
 Why, Cornelia ! How strangely you talk. You astonish 
 me. We were but children then. We knew not what fate 
 would do for us. Love plays havoc with our vows. I love 
 Randall ; there is no vocabulary that can suflficientlj' describe 
 my love for him. I was the happiest girl in the world the night 
 he asked me to be his bride. And every week seems like a 
 year until our wedding day. {Cornelia appears vexed, nervous 
 and somewhat mad) The thoughts that tease and please a 
 coming bride, are productive of the sweetest joy. Our mar- 
 riage will not, neither would your marriage, mar our friend- 
 ship or our love. Come, Cornelia, You are indeed foolish to 
 reject such a fine young man as Robert. Reconsider serious- 
 ly. I am certain you will never get such an offer again. You 
 love him and you are sure that he loves you. 
 
 Cornelia {clasping Delia nervously) 
 
 O, Delia, do not chide me. We all have our feelings and 
 our choice. I may be foolish; I may be mad, but Delia, 
 dear Delia, there is but one in this world that I would marry 
 {vehemently) and I swear by God! {looking up) such a one I'll 
 
 marry. 
 
 Delia {inquisitively) 
 And that one — 
 
 Cornelia {quickly) 
 Is Delia Marston. 
 
 Delia {breaking from, her) 
 Why, Cornelia! are you mad? Cornelia is down-heaHed and 
 sad.) You marry me! you, Ha, Ha, Ha— Ha, Ha, Ha. It is 
 absurd, ridiculous, I marry you! {approaching Cornelia) Poor 
 girl; you are certainly jesting. All mankind would revolt at 
 such an outrage! You have my sympathy Cornelia; but such 
 an idea is amusing, Ha— Ha— Ha! Let me place into your 
 arms the one that belongs there. 
 
 Cornelia {emphatically) 
 No! You may torment me if you will. But, Delia, I swear 
 
54 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 you must marry me. I am not crazy, I am not mad. I am 
 perfectly sane. I could not bear to see you wed another. It 
 weighed heavily upon my mind. I prayed nig-ht and morning 
 that you would marry no other. I love you so I could not see 
 you goto any man. You must be mine;- mine alone. And I 
 have sworn to accomplish by force, what I could not by 
 prayers. Speak Delia; be mine. Let us marry. If there be 
 no precedent; let us establish one> Come {she approaches 
 Delia who shrinks from her with fear.) You are a foolish girl 
 to spurn my love. You will see your folly when it is too late. 
 Delia {avoiding Cornelia with feaf) 
 
 Why, Cornelia; you act so strange; I fear you. Do not bore 
 me with your importunities. I believe you are jesting. If 
 you are not — {cautiously) then I must say no. Randall is my 
 sweetheart my beloved and my future husband. To him I go, 
 unadulterated, unsophisticated, a virgin girl. 
 Cornelia {madly) 
 
 To me you come, an angel, a sweet and comely girl, {with 
 em,otion) To him; you go a corpse. 
 
 Delia {frantically) 
 
 Cornelia! Don't talk like that. Don't, I beg of you; dear 
 Cornelia, don't scare me so. 
 
 Cornelia {approaching Delia who shuns her) 
 
 Nay, I do not scare; I love you Delia, and you should love 
 me. You know my affection for you. Be shrewdl Be wisej 
 Delia, be mine! 
 
 Delia {sadly) 
 
 No, no, Cornelia please do not ask, I can not, I shall not. 
 Cornelia {taking from the folds of her dress a razor) 
 
 You can not, but you shall {she rushes toward Delia who tiies 
 to escape but is caught near c. e. Delia is too scared to scream). 
 Delia {hysterically) 
 
 O, God! O, Cornelia, Please! Please! sweet Cornelia {Cor- 
 nelia rushes Delia toward c. e. they struggle. Delia holding Cor- 
 nelia's hand, but she weakens and is forced out c. e. There is an 
 awful scream and a heavy thump. Cornelia rushes madly in c. e. 
 holding a bloody razor from her. She rends her bosom and her 
 hair. She looks mad; staggers; breathes heavily; sighs; stares 
 wildly; looks slowly around at razor; screams and throws it to the 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 55 
 
 floor; grabs her hair with both hands. Then in a low voice says) 
 
 Cornelia 
 Delia ! Delia ! ( She gives a frightful scream and throws her- 
 self on the sofa, butying her face in her hands.) 
 
 —CURTAIN- 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene: the same. Tim,e: a year later. 
 ( On the rising of the curtain Maud Lewison and Olive Simmonds 
 are seen sitting at right front. They have made a call upon Cor- 
 nelia who has just returned home from, a private sanitafium where 
 she has been under treatment since the fatal night. They are 
 dressed in calling attire. 
 
 Olive 
 Still you can not deny that he is a most honorable man. 
 Perhaps in displeasing- you, he has pleased the commonwealth. 
 Maud {indignantly) 
 Nonsense! Do not mention the commonwealth to me. If he 
 has so little love for me as to prefer the fickle approbation of 
 a wavering public, to my generous love and devotion; then 'tis 
 well that we have parted. I am very g-lad to have discovered 
 the extent of his affection. 
 
 Olive 
 But his speech! The wisest men declare they have never be- 
 fore heard the like. 
 
 riaud 
 I was present and will admit it was the g-reatest I ever heard. 
 
 Olive {inquiringly) 
 Did not the people go wild with delight over every sentence, 
 every gesture? Was he not the orator of the day? I am quite 
 sure many girls would be proud of such a lover. 
 
56 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Maud 
 
 I recogriize his wisdom and ability; I have no desire to be- 
 little his talent. He is a born orator and philosopher. But 
 notwithstanding- his great position, why should I have any re- 
 gard for a man that treated me so shamefully. 
 
 Olive 
 I thought his conduct toward you gentlemanly to the end. 
 
 Maud {indignantly) 
 Gentlemanly! When he fostered in his soul for months that 
 which he knew was detrimental to me? That which would dis- 
 please me? 
 
 Olive 
 
 Did he not try in vain to win you from your purpose? Did 
 not he and Mr. Walters continually reprove you and me for our 
 part in the cause of woman's suffrage? Would you rather see 
 him espouse your theory and sink into oblivion with a false 
 cause, than to rise triumphantly in maintaining an established 
 doctrine? What seems possible to you and others evidently 
 appears absurd to him. His conscience bade him speak, and 
 he spoke. What he said, and the way he said it, is the com- 
 mon gossip of the nation. 
 
 Maud 
 
 I can never forgive him for the wretchedness he caused me. 
 At the hearing when I saw him rise, I could not rest easy. 
 He looked so dignified, so majestic. I just felt like leaping from 
 my seat and clasping my arms about his neck and kissing him. 
 Everyone present relapsed into a state of reverence. Imagine 
 my distress when I grasped the purport of his speech. In a 
 few moments he had the situation at his mercy. And the bill 
 I was so much interested in, and to which I made so many sug- 
 gestions was killed by the man I loved. 
 
 Olive 
 
 Did he know you were present? 
 Maud 
 
 He certainly did. He also knew where I was seated but 
 avoided meeting my eyes. 
 
 Olive 
 
 Did you not see him after the hearing adjourned? 
 riaud 
 
 I did not wait. After he had finished, I left. I knew by the 
 vociferous applause of which he was the recipient that all was 
 over. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 57 
 
 Olive 
 
 Have you not seen him since? 
 
 riaud 
 
 I have not. He called frequently put I refused to see him. 
 I shall never again suffer the humiliation his presence occas- 
 ions. It is sufficient to know that I have received ill treatment 
 at his hands, and never shall I g^ive him an opportunity either 
 to repeat or to amend. 
 
 Olive 
 
 The g-reatness he has acheived oug^ht to induce j^ou to forg^iv^e 
 him. 
 
 Maud {quickly) 
 
 His g-reatness is the cause of my unhappiness. Why should 
 I approve of that which g-ives me so much pain. 
 
 Olive 
 
 Should you approve of it there would be no pain. It is your 
 persistent desire to sympathize with so foolish a cause that 
 hinders the development of your own happiness. Learn to dis- 
 like so unwholesome a theory and you will learn to love the 
 man that loves you. 
 
 Maud 
 
 Have you so soon forg-otten your pledg-e to support the cause? 
 Do you not recollect that you were as staunch an advocate as I? 
 At this time when your assistance is needed the most you re- 
 pudiate your former vows. I assisted in the propag-ation of the 
 cause, labored for its maintenance, worked assiduously for its 
 perfection, and am ready to die the same death. I believe I 
 am right, and no matter how different other people's opinions 
 may be to mine, it is no indication that I am wrong. If you 
 chope to leave us now you may do so, but all the world would 
 consider it a most ungratful act. 
 
 Olive 
 
 When I see my future welfare about to be retarded and possibly 
 destroyed by a condition which I could nicely do without; then 
 it would be very foolish not to remove the obstacles and accept 
 the prosperity which fate had apportioned to me. I would by 
 no means allow woman's suffrage to effect a breach between 
 my sweetheart and myself. 
 
 Maud 
 
 Since you have admitted that your sole desire is the acquire- 
 
58 KOBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 ment of your own personal welfare, perhaps it is as well that 
 you have changed your opinion. 
 
 Olive 
 
 Why, Maud! Just stop a moment and consider how ridicul- 
 ously inconsistent it all is. I, like a great many more, joined 
 the suffragists merely because I thought it a fad. Not that I 
 ever cared whether such a condition would or would not mater- 
 ialize. And I may tell you confidentially, that many of your 
 most enthusiastic spouters, hope in their hearts that such a 
 privelege will never exist. 
 
 riaud 
 
 It matter little whether it exists or not. It is no reason why 
 I should not feel the unkindness he deliberately did me. What 
 you or your friends may think has no bearing upon the matter. 
 It would be impossible for me to describe the awful misery, I 
 was obliged to endure. 
 
 Olive 
 
 If you would take a good friend's advice, you would seek your 
 lover, tell him you could not be contented to remain his oppon- 
 ent and congradulate him upon his huge sucess. I am sure 
 that it will be the making of your future. 
 
 Maud 
 
 Olive you mean very well; but should I follow your advice I 
 fear I would goon find myself in a very embarassing predica- 
 ment. 
 
 Olive 
 
 I think otherwise. Mr. Bennett is a perfect gentleman and 
 your reception would be gratifying to you. 
 
 riaud 
 
 No, No, Olive! I never could entertain such a thought. Af- 
 ter refusing so often to be reconciled, I could not now resort to 
 supplication. 
 
 Olive 
 
 Would you but denounce the fallacy of woman's suffrage, 
 you would do justice to yourself, a kindness to the world (at 
 this instant a maid enters r. e. and approaching Olive and Maud 
 says) 
 
 Martha 
 
 Miss Cornelia would be very much pleased would you as 
 soon proceed to her study. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 59 
 
 Olive and Maud {quickly) 
 Certainly. {They follow Martha out r. e. Enter ft om I, e, 
 Harry Walters a7id Mrs. Phorbes. Harry has made a call on 
 Cornelia and she has instructed him to act as mediator between 
 herself and Robert. Mrs. Phorbes shows the effect het daughter's 
 conduct has made upon her. She appears much older, more fee- 
 ble and acts in a sad mood. They proceed to c.) 
 Mrs. Phorbes {on entering) 
 You may convey to him our deepest sympathy, also our sin- 
 cerest wishes for his speedy recovery. 
 
 Harry 
 1 shall w^ith pleasure. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 Do not forget your mission. Do your utmost to bring- about 
 
 a reconciliation. 
 
 Harry 
 
 I am quite sure it will be an easy matter. I could answer for 
 Robert now. I so well know his disposition, but I fear such 
 liberty would be a breach of diplomacy. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 You think then, there will be no difficulty in restoring their 
 
 love? 
 
 Harry 
 
 Robert loves Cornelia today as much as he ever did. 
 
 rirs. Phorbes {with emotion) 
 
 Notwithstanding her dreadful {she sighs) crime. OhI how I 
 
 hate to mention it. 
 
 Harry 
 He realizes that her reason must certainly have been impair- 
 ed. Therefore his love for her was by no means lessened. On 
 the contrary his extreme sympathy, made his love the stronger. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 I know he was real kind during her confinement in the san- 
 itarium. Every day he called to inquire as to her welfare. 
 Often he expressed a desire to see her, but the authorities 
 would not permit. 
 
 Harry {enquiringly) 
 He has not seen her since— {he stops suddenly) 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 No, not since— I often wished that he could. I thought per- 
 
60 KOBEKT AND CORNELIA 
 
 haps his company mig-ht assist her in forgetting-. When she 
 arrived home, and was permitted to receive her friends, we 
 were pained to learn of Mr. Walton's indisposition. I sincere- 
 13^ hope his recovery will be forthcoming. 
 
 Harry 
 
 His illness is no surprise to me. I expected it, and tried hard 
 to save him from it. I endeavored to entertain him, in fact I 
 tried every possible means to induce him to cease worr3nng. 
 Some of his friends invited him to make a tour of Europe, 
 which he was about to accept, when he heard of that dreadful 
 fatality. He then refused to accompany them on the ground 
 that he might be of some service to the poor girl or her folks. 
 His extreme love for Cornelia augmented by the sincerest sym- 
 pathy for her derangement also his inability to see her preyed 
 upon his brain and underminded his constitution. I was fear- 
 fully apprehensive lest he should lose his reason. Was he 
 other than a modest, temperate 3'oung man, the personification 
 of continency, he could not so long have survived the painful 
 torture this cruel love affair has occasioned. All his intimate 
 friends refrain from mentioning it. And when they are obliged 
 to do so, they only succeed after brushing away a tear. He is 
 the most beloved man in the world today, idolized by his friends; 
 encouraged by his acquaintance; ignorant of such a word as, 
 enemy (:with a sigh). But I fear Mrs. Phorbes, it will soon be 
 over {he turns azuay sadly). 
 
 Mrs Phorbes [excitedly) 
 
 What do you mean Mr. Walter, is he so ill? 
 Harry [with emotion) 
 
 I believe him to be more so than he cares to tell. A silent 
 sufferer of love's unmitigated grief. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes [anxiously) 
 
 Do the doctors say his condition is dangerous? 
 Harry 
 
 No; I have heard nothing to that effect, but I fear it. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 Cornelia has instructed you has she not in regard to your er- 
 rand. I assure you, both Mr. Phorbes and myself greatl}^ ap- 
 preciate 3'our kindness. 
 
 Harry [quickly) 
 
 Not at all, Mrs. Phorbes! I am pleased to serve you; and 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^TA 61 
 
 am delighted to bring such good news to Robert. I believe it 
 will be more beneficial than medicine. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 I hope 3'ou will find him convalescent. It will add to Corne- 
 lia's uneasiness should his condition become critical. 
 
 Harry 
 I can imagine his great joy when I explain to him the object 
 of my visit. What a glorious sight it will be to see two such 
 lovers in one another's arms again. I will do my utmost to ac- 
 complivsh such a task. It will give me as much pleasure as it 
 will them. He will gain strength with every sentence I relate 
 to him. It is good to convey such tidings to a friend you like so 
 well. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 You will endeavor to fetch him with you upon your return? 
 
 Harry 
 By all means; if he is able to come. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 I sincerely hope he is. It will give us all extreme pleasure 
 to see him. 
 
 Harry 
 Yes. Cornelia expresses herself as being very much pleased 
 at the prospect of meeting all her old friends. I am sorry to 
 say with one exception. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {a?ixiously) 
 With one exception. Who is the one, may I ask. 
 
 Harry 
 That one, is Mr. Phillips. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {with emotion) 
 Ay, 'tis dreadfully sad. The loss of Delia they say has 
 grieved him beyond measure. It is through no ill will or ma- 
 lice that she dislikes to meet him. She always thought a great 
 deal of Mr. Phillips. It is because of the awful pain such a 
 meeting will occasion. I hope we may avoid such a meeting 
 for some time. Does he contemplate such a visit? 
 
 Harry 
 That I can not answer. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {inquiringly) 
 Have you seen him of late? Does he mention the tragedy? 
 
 Harry 
 No, he does not, and is ever so melancholy and depressed, 
 
62 ROBKRT AND CORNELIA 
 
 that I do not choose to mention it. There is every evidence that 
 he has greatly suffered from the unexpected shock. A short 
 time after the death of Delia he showed me a letter of condolence 
 he had received from Robert. It was the most compassionate 
 letter I ever read; full of sympathy and kindly feeling". 
 Mrs. Phorbes {inqtiisitively) 
 Did he ever express anj' desire to see Cornelia? 
 
 Harry 
 Not to my knowledge. But I understand he kept informed 
 as to her welfare. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 I sincerely hope he will not call upon her. I fear the result 
 of such a meeting. In my opinion it would be disastrous. 
 Cornelia is not yet strong enough to cope with the inevitable 
 
 excitement. 
 
 Harry 
 
 If it is your pleasure I will in your behalf persuade him to 
 defer his visit for reasons purely practical. He is a perfect 
 gentlemen and would see no impropriety in the request. Again 
 there is a probability that he possesses no such intention. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 He may not; but I would not trust to such a probability. 
 
 Harry {quickly) 
 Then I would be pleased to deliver your request. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {sadly) 
 Extend to him nay compliments and urge him in my behalf 
 to defer any intended call upon Cornelia until a later day, for 
 reasons which you can explain better than I. Tell him such 
 a course is necessary to her physical welfare. You are indeed 
 kind to serve so willing a distracted family. May God grant 
 to you in this life your full share of sunshine. 
 Harry {looking at his watch) 
 I will depart with many thanks, Mrs. Phorbes; I have but a 
 short time in which to catch my train. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {anxiously) 
 I will pray for the success of both of j'our efforts. I will 
 not delay you. 
 
 Harry ( nef vously) 
 I shall have just time enough to stop at the club and see Mr. 
 Phillips. If he is not there I shall have no time to hunt for him. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 63 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 If he is not there then proceed on your other mission. We 
 will prepare for the worst. I will bid you g-ood-bye (^^a^zw^ 
 hands) and may God bless you and protect you. {following him 
 to c. e.) Cornelia will be in extreme suspense until she hears 
 from you. I trust it will not be long-. 
 
 Harry 
 
 It is but a short distance from here to Mr. Walton's home. 
 
 But a half -hours journey by rail. And as soon as my business 
 
 is thoroug^hly transacted I shall send Miss Cornelia a telegram. 
 
 I shall not keep her waiting" until my return. Good-bye Mrs. 
 
 Phorbes. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 Good-bye and success to your efforts. 
 Harry 
 
 Thank you (exils c. e. to r. Mrs. Fhotbes looks anxiously af- 
 ter him c. e. She retur?is to the room, down centre and says sadly) 
 Mrs. Phorbes {with emotion) 
 
 My poor child; my poor Cornelia! So sad, so melancholy; 
 and yet so young". Most girls of her age are in exuberant lib- 
 erty. She will never outgrow this pitiful compunction {walks 
 nervously to and fro). What intolerable grief. 'Tis now a 
 year of bitterest agony, and the situation has not improved. 
 Now it remains for Mr. Walton to act a godly part in an un- 
 godly tragedy. If he will convince Cornelia that he still loves 
 her, that he will forgive and take her back; he might resume 
 her former role. It might induce her to forget the fatal night 
 and perhaps an early marraige which I will do my utmost to 
 bring about might make her a new girl, {walking to c. e.) 
 These are my only hopes. Should they prove futile, — all is 
 over, {looking out c. e.) Here comes my poor husband it always 
 grieves him to see me so unhappy {exits sobbing I. e. Enter 
 from c. e. Mr. Phorbes and Franklin Bennett who has just made 
 a call). 
 
 Mr. Phorbes {entering) 
 
 O, Yes; her condition is much better. We will keep her here 
 until she gains sufficient strength; then she, my wife and my- 
 self will go on a journey. That is my idea. Don't you think 
 the plan a good one for her? I believe she would do better were 
 she a long distance from here. Everything at home suggests 
 to her the rash act she committed. 
 
64 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Franklin 
 
 I certainly indorse so wise a step. It would be well to keep 
 her from these surrounding's until she has completely recovered 
 from the effects of her crime. Even the innocent are made to 
 shudder in these environments. A journey would also improve 
 
 her health. 
 
 rir. Phorbes 
 
 I am confident it is the onlj^ thing. She can not remain here 
 and worry over what has been done. I tell you, young- man, 
 no one has suffered so much by her act as she herself. When 
 she realized what she had done, God alone knows how she felt. 
 It is astonishing how she loved Delia. By the way, Mr. Ben- 
 nett, accept my congratulations upon your huge success as a 
 
 statesman. 
 
 Franklin 
 
 Thank you. My success has been more pleasing to my friends 
 than to me. I have received letters from all over the land; from 
 people I never saw or heard of, from all my friends and ac- 
 quaintances; but the letter I looked for the most and prayed to 
 receive, and which I would have answered in preference to all 
 
 others never came. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 You mean from Miss Lewi son? 
 
 Franklin 
 Ay, from her I would prize a letter, higher than my office. 
 
 rir. Phorbes 
 You have won so much, and still dissatisfied? 
 
 Franklin 
 What is there in it for a man should he become the greatest 
 in the world, and be unable to say he was contented. Happi- 
 ness does not proceed from wealth and position, but from the 
 fact that one is contented. Happiness is a temporary joy; con. 
 tentment is a condition of ease and comfort. Although I have 
 gained much as you say, and was apparently happy, I tell you 
 confidentially that I have yet to win a great deal before I can 
 
 be contented. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 I presume it is the same old story: a question of love. 
 
 Franklin 
 Yes; by my efforts to achieve success as a statesman I have 
 incurred the ill will of the only girl in all this world for whom 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^TA 65 
 
 I care a hang-. And were I sure she was lost to me, I would 
 throw my wealth and position to the dogs. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Is your advancement so handicapped by love? 
 
 Franklin 
 True love does not handicap, but rather insures perfection. 
 Did she love me, she would be interested in my affairs; the 
 greater I became; the g-reater her interest. The sincere inter- 
 est of the one you love, would g-oad the most indolent on to suc- 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 Ay, but you must not allow your love to make a most success- 
 ful man indolent. 
 
 Franklin 
 
 No, but she might make a successful man happy; and out of 
 that happiness will proceed my contentment. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Have you made any effort to gain her love? 
 
 Franklin {sadly) 
 I have won her, and lost her. Once I was an envied sweet- 
 heart, now I am a disappointed lover. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 O, pshaw! You are decidedly too young to speak of disap- 
 pointed love. A man's chance is any day. A woman's chance 
 
 limits with her age. 
 
 Franklin 
 
 And a man's chance limits with his liking-. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 In a world like this, overflowing with feminine beauty, vir- 
 tue and intelligence, there is no limit to your liking-. On the 
 contrary, you have got to learn to exercise restraint. There 
 is iniquity in the world; but 'tis a nonentity with the moral ex- 
 cellence which prevails {Entef at this time from c, e. Randall 
 Phillips. He calls to see Cornelia. He appears sad, melancholy 
 and dejected. His looks and actions should suggests the greatest 
 grief. As though everything reminded him of the murder. He 
 is immediately recognized by Mr. Photbes arid Franklin Bennett. 
 Mr. Phorbes who is nearer him grasps Randall by the hand, at- 
 tempts to speak but turns away in grief. Randall does the same. 
 Franklin approaches Randall, shakes hands with him then looking 
 pathetically at Mr. Phorbes turns and says to Randall) 
 
66 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Franklin {consolingly) 
 Is this this the first meeting since the death of your friend? 
 
 Randall (nodding sadly) 
 Yes; I have prolonged the absence, until my presence became 
 necessary [Mr. Phorbes turns towards him in surprise. To Mr. 
 Phorbes) I regret, Mr. Phorbes, that my call brings such un- 
 pleasant recollections, It is indeed painful to both of us. I 
 avoided this meeting for a j^ear. I thought we might better 
 meet sooner or later, therefore my visit. Also, to prove to the 
 w^orld that your daughter's rash deed made no enemies. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 We certainly owe to 3'^ou a great deal because of the pro- 
 nounced eqanimity with which you endured your heavj^ loss. 
 Franklin 
 Ms. Phillips always had a reputation for fortitude. 
 
 Randall {sadly) 
 I feel the loss, more than is believed. I loved Delia Marston, 
 and her ugly assassination was a heavy blow to me. I also 
 sympathize with poor Cornelia. I very well knew her extreme 
 love for Delia. Although I never anticipated so dreadful a 
 catastrope. I very often feared something very unusual would 
 eventually occur. I was aware of the strong, in fact, the dan- 
 gerous attachment between the two. 
 
 Franklin 
 It was indeed a most strange affair. 
 
 Randall {with emotion) 
 Ay; as sad as it was strange. For months I could not realize 
 that my intended wife was dead. I repeatedly asked m5'^self, is 
 it not a dream? Is she no more? and so on, until I at last broke 
 down like a child. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 Your sympathy was by no means wasted, Mr. Phillips. She 
 was indeed an exceptional child. 
 
 Randall {nervously) 
 Is — Miss Cornelia at home Mr. Phorbes? 
 Mr. Phorbes {hesitating) 
 Y-e-s; I believe she is, would you like to see her? 
 
 Randall {iiervously) 
 I would ver3' much. She is allowed, is she not, to receive 
 her friends? 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^TA 67 
 
 rir. Phorbes 
 
 She is a certain number. The physicians do not consider it 
 wise to allow her too much company the fiist few days. Mrs. 
 Phorbes however has been instructed in the matter and I will 
 refer you to her. I believe she will allow you to see her. 
 
 Randall 
 
 I hope she will. I often wished for an opportunity to do so. 
 Mr . Phorbes {proceeding to I. ) 
 
 I will inform Mrs. Phorbes of your visit, and she will come 
 to you directly {to Franklin). We will proceed, Mr. Bennett. 
 {Mr. Phorbes and Franklin exits I. e. Randall appears nervous 
 and uneasy. He looks about him then stands at c. and says sad- 
 ly) Can I believe that 'twas here so vile a tragedy was enact- 
 ed. 'Tis like a lily, killed by the touch of a rose. Only one 
 short year ag-o this same room was illumined by her brightness. 
 Her radiant beauty, was the gossip of the guests. When I 
 picture her then, her beautiful eyes, her smiling face beaming 
 with delight, her Venus like figure prancing gracefully about; 
 the joy of the assemblage. Now— (a pause; softly) 'tis almost 
 impossible to believe, though the ugly truth. Deep in the damp 
 ground, one of the million consorts of death, violently thrust in- 
 to his cold, clammy embrace. Cornelia, you have robbed me of my 
 happiness. Out of my loving arms you have snatched the sun- 
 shine of my life. {He strikes an attitude; appears sad and looks 
 appealiugly before him. A short silence, then enters from I. e. 
 Mrs. Phorbes. She is very much surprised at his presenee and 
 shows it. She is gloomly, douunhearted, excited and nervous. 
 She approaches Randall with reluctance. He does not see het . 
 She draws nearer. For a moment she is unable to speak. She 
 says sadly) 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 Mr. Phillips! {He turns and faces her) My husband and I are 
 very glad indeed to see you. You are a welcome visitor to our 
 house. 
 
 Randall 
 
 Thank you; I have been informed that your danghter has re- 
 covered from her strange affliction; {Mrs. Phorbes appears con- 
 fused and ala7'med) and was at home receiving her friends. 
 Miss Cornelia and I were always good friends, and I felt as 
 though I would like very much to see her. {3Irs, Phorbes is 
 
68 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 startled) Is she at home now? Maj^ I have that much pleasure? 
 {Mrs. Phorbes hesitates. She knows not what to say.) 
 Mrs. Phorbes {nervously) 
 
 No, no, — no, Mr. Phillips, I — I would rather you would not 
 see her toda5\ For my sake! for your sake! for her sake! For 
 all our sakes do not, I — I entreat you Mr. Phillips; Do not see 
 her today {Mi: Phillips is startled and confused). 
 Randall {enquiringly) 
 
 Why not today? Is tomorrow or the next day more conveni- 
 ent? If so I will bid — {He makes an attempt to go.) 
 Mrs. Phorbes {intirruptingly) 
 
 No, no, not tomorrow nor the next but a later day. {He turns 
 quickly and stares doubtfully at Mrs. Phorbes. She hesitates a 
 moments than adds) When you have both forgotten, — {She points 
 sadly to c. e.) 
 
 Randall {sadly) 
 
 Then we shall never meet. You may forget; your daughter 
 may forget; — but I — never can foiget. {softly) Were I to live 
 ten thousand lives in ten thousand worlds, each life would be 
 permeated with a gloom occasioned by the cruel murder of the 
 girl I loved. If that {pointing to c. e.) is your reason for de- 
 ferring our meeting; then I say, let us meet today and here. 
 Now, or never. You have nothing to fear; your daughter need 
 make no apologies; I am seeking no revenge. I will treat her 
 as her sweetness and refinement deserve. I am too gentle to 
 rebuke your sex, be they ever so guilty. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {with emotion) 
 
 I endeavored to avoid this meeting. I thought you were more 
 angr}', than you really are. I will tell my daughter you are 
 here, {proceeding to c. e.) I trust you will not add to her dis- 
 comfort should this meeting cause her uneasiness. 
 Randall {emphatically) 
 
 Rather would I console her. {Mrs. Phorbes exits c. e. 
 Randall becomes seated at left front. He is sad a?id in deep 
 fneditation. His eyes fast on the floor befoie him. There is a 
 short silence, then enters from c. e. Cornelia. Randall does not 
 raise his eyes. Cornelia on seeing him heaves a heavy sigh. She 
 becomes distracted, she advances, she hesitates, she proceeds with 
 reluctafice. She steals ?teai ei . She watches him closely in great dis- 
 tress. Then she leans forward as if about to advance then she 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEl,TA 69 
 
 wavers: finally she stands motionless glaring at Randall. Then 
 like mad she rushes to him, drops on he? knees before him, and 
 buries hef face in his lap iveeping. Randall is touched to the 
 heart. He cannot speak. A brief silence then Cornelia half sob- 
 bing utters) 
 
 Cornelia [distractedly looking up) 
 Forg-ive me; O, Randall, — forg-ive me. {She again drops her 
 head in his lap. Randall is full of grief. He strokes her hair, 
 he looks pathetically at her, then in a soft, sweet tone says) 
 Randall {soothingly) 
 Arise, sweet Cornelia! You are forgiven. {He stands; lifts 
 Cornelia to het feet, but she can not look into his face. She turns 
 from him. He still holds her hand.) Do not feel so sad. I am 
 not come to reprove you. Truly you have caused me much pain 
 but I — I am sure your conduct was quite excusable. {Corne- 
 lians face brightens up a little) I could not censure you. 
 Cornelia {sobbing) 
 I assure you, Mr. Phillips, I — I am awfully sorry. I have 
 suffered a great deal. The corpse of Delia will haunt me 
 through my whole life. My love for her was so strong that it 
 developed into madness. I have destroyed your happiness; I 
 have almost killed my folks with grief; I have pulled down the 
 curtain of gloom, and shut out the light from the threshold of 
 the Marston's domicile. I have done a thousand wrongs; 
 wrongs that can never be excused. 
 
 Randall {with einotio?i) 
 You may have caused the others grief and sorrow. You have 
 done me the greatest wrong. When I so willingly excuse you 
 your exculpation is assured. I came here not to bring back to 
 your memory the horrors of your deed, but on the contrary, to 
 convince you that I am still your friend. 
 
 Cornelia {brightening up) 
 Then you do not hate me for what I have done? {She looks 
 pathetically and appealingly at Randall. Randall draws closer to 
 her, squeezes her hand geritly in his, and in an emphatic tone. ) 
 
 Randall 
 Cornelia, — I love you! {She is star-tied, surprised and confus- 
 ed. There is a brief silence. She withdraws from him.) 
 Cornelia {cautiously) 
 Mr. Phillips,— I— I belong body and soul to another. 
 
70 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Randall {quickly) 
 
 To your God? 
 
 Cornelia {softly) 
 
 To my God, — and — Robert Walton. You know how I loved 
 him; j^ou know his reg-ard^r me. I have treated him shame- 
 fully. I have been cruel and unkind. He never ceased to love 
 me. Althoug^h my actions drove him from me, his heart was 
 ever by me. He encourag-ed me with the sweetest letters when 
 all the world seemed to scorn me. Now, that I am well I in- 
 tend to reciprocate. If he loves me still, I can do so partially 
 by offering to him my heart and hand, my body and life! I 
 shall not wait for him to propose. I shall do him the honor of 
 proposing myself. If his love has changed, then circumstances 
 must interevene. I shall however throw myself into his loving 
 embrace; let him do with me whatever he will. You see, — I can 
 not return your love, though I hope we may remain friends. 
 (A brief silence. Randall is greatly disappointed) Candidly 
 Mr. Phillips, do you not believe him worthy, all the love I can 
 g-ive him? 
 
 Randall {cooly) 
 
 You intend to reciprocate his love and attention? 
 Cornelia {quickly) 
 
 I certainly do. I only regret that I have not a thousand 
 hearts, that they all might throb for love of him. 
 
 Randall 
 
 He was indeed kind to you. Miss Cornelia. His affection was 
 devout. But why should it not be. Who would not do much for 
 the love of you. You might owe to him a great deal Miss 
 Phorbes, — but it is not to be compared with the debt you owe 
 me. {Cornelia is startled) 
 
 Cornelia {softly with emotion) 
 
 The debt — I — owe — you, — 
 
 Randall {agitated) 
 
 You murdered in cold blood, the girl I loved. Then cloaked 
 over your crime with the plea of temporary insanity. {Cornelia 
 is distracted, she is full of grief and etnotion. Randall turns 
 aside as if to weep. Cornelia draws closer to him. She is in 
 great agony) 
 
 Cornelia {with emotion) 
 
 I beg of you; I implore you; I beseech you, Mr. Phillips, do 
 not use the word murder. Do not, I entreat you, call me a mur- 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 7l 
 
 deress. Your remarks stingf me, Randall; your words kill me. 
 Do not pain me with unkindneSvS. {drawing- closer) If I owe 
 you such a debt as j'ou seem to think I am willing to pay it. 
 But in this way only, a life for a life, {grabbing his hand) 
 How you value me I know not; but my life ought to partially 
 compensate for that of dear, sweet Delia, {excitedly) Take it 
 then, {standing boldly before him) Take my life, {with sar- 
 casm) You abominable interloper; cruel fiend! {taking his hands 
 and pressing them to her heart) Strangle me! Strangle me with 
 your hands! but wound me not with your tongue. {She stiuggles 
 with him trying to make him- strangle her) Kill me! Kill me I 
 say. {Randall tries to comfort her, she finally falls into his 
 arms exhausted. A short silence. ) 
 
 Randall {looking affectionately i7ito her face) 
 
 Who would believe, such sweet lips could mould so vile an 
 utterance, {she breaks frovt him) Cornelia your bitter tirade 
 beats upon the drum of my auricle, like the euphonious gather- 
 ing of a summer rain. You misconstrue me, you do not seem 
 to know me. You are dealing with a gentleman, I do not want 
 your life; I do not want to wound you, {slowly) I want to love 
 you, I want you to fill Delia's place; not in the ghastly realm 
 of death; but in my affections. (^raz£/zV/^ f/i?j^/ to her) To be 
 brief, wont you be my wife ? ( Cornelia withdraws fiom him 
 she hesitates. She stands as if in deep meditation.) 
 Cornelia {with scorn) 
 
 That you! So firm a friend of Robert; should be the author 
 of this insidious proposition. No! Mr. Phillips I can not 
 marry you, I will marry Robert Walton no matter what 
 
 comes. 
 
 Randall 
 
 I intend Mr. Walton no wrong, I am aware his sickly con- 
 dition would incapacitate him for the marriage state. 
 Cornelia {scoi nfully) 
 
 Do you find delight in this inexorable cruelty? 
 Randall {softly) 
 
 I am not cruel. Miss Cornelia. It would be very painful to 
 me, and, to your friends to see such blooming youth, such ripe 
 and mellow maidenhood, such healthy instinct, teased and 
 tormented by the effete functions of an invalid. {Cornelia is 
 raging m.ad. She shakes all over with anger.) It would only be 
 
72 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 a course of time when discontent and dissatisfaction would 
 insue. Your warm nature would appeal to you to be gratified- 
 Desire would develop into want, and eventually the vilest of 
 all sins would sug-g-est itself. 
 
 Cornelia {enquiringly, ivith emotio7i) 
 What do you mean? 
 
 Randall ( vehemently) 
 I mean, the ingrandeur of infidelitj'. 
 
 Cornelia {appealingly) 
 O, Mr. Phillips, do not annoy me, do not ask me to be 
 5'ours, I can not do so. There appears no reason why I should 
 marry you. We were never sweethearts. Why should j'ou 
 bore me with your importunities I love Robert; I love him. 
 Randall {excitedly) 
 You should marry me as a retribution for the misery, the 
 sorrow, the sleepless nights, the agony, the pain, the torture 
 produced by your folly. 
 
 Cornelia {cooly) 
 Christ suffered all these things and gave retribution. 
 
 Randall {agitated) 
 Sweet Cornelia, I am mortal, you are mortal. We are both 
 grieved and pained by your conduct. Your hand and heart 
 would indemnify me for the misery you have caused. 
 Cornelia, {scornfully) 
 If it is indemnity you want, my father — will make j'our 
 
 claim good. 
 
 Randall {quickly) 
 
 Your father could not do so without your consent. It is not 
 money I want. Money is a venom, compared with the love of 
 you. Be shrewd, be wise Cornelia, choose between us; but re- 
 member upon your choice depends the destiny of your future* 
 {At this time the maid euters from c. e.) 
 Martha {approaching Cornelia) 
 {Cornelia is excited and anxious', also nervous.) 
 Miss Cornelia, — a telegram. 
 
 Cornelia {taking itfrom her) * 
 One moment, Martha. {Cornelia teads telegram, drops it to 
 the floor and falls in a faint. She is caught by Randall who lays 
 her 071 the sofa and sends Martha for a glass oj water.) 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 73 '' 
 
 Randall (excitedly) ] 
 
 A glass of water, Martha, quick! Say nothing- to her folks. I 
 
 {Exit Mmtha. Randall feels of her forehead and her pulse \ 
 
 then says) It is only a fainting spell. {He looks affectionately \ 
 
 into Cornelia'' s face) Even a Saint Anthony would be tempted to I 
 
 kiss those luscious lips. {He kisses her; he continues looking 
 into her face. Martha returns, they try to revive her; A 
 Short time, and Randall pricks up telegram and reads. Martha 
 is struck with grief, and is on one knee on the floor beside her, 
 one arm around her neck, grasping Cornelia'' s hand with her 
 other hand.) 
 
 Randall {reading telegram nervously) ! 
 
 "Robert Walton died here to-day. Harry Walters." 
 {Randall strikes a sympathetic attitude staring at Cornelia 
 and the cm taitt falls on a sad scene . ) 
 
 —CURTAIN— \ 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene: the same. Time: a year later than Act IV. 
 
 {On the rise of the cuftain two men, fohn and James, florists, are 
 seen busily arranging potted plants, palms and ferns in a luxu- 
 riant mamier, this being the evening of Cornelia'' s wedding) 
 
 James 
 Another fern here John, {they place the fern) 
 
 John 
 These fashionable weddings must be great, {whistling) 
 
 James 
 Indeed they are that, {they both hustle about whistling) 
 
 John 
 I had no flowers at my wedding. 
 James 
 No, nor I. 
 
 John 
 
 Nor a wedding tour neither. 
 
 James 
 
 Nor did I have a wedding tour, {they both set to wofk whist- 
 ing.) 
 
74 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 John 
 
 Fine flowers and long- wedding tours don't malce liappy mar- 
 riag-es. 
 
 James {workiiig on bower under which the marriage 
 is to take place at middle /. , cutting and twining evergreen, etc.) 
 
 Indeed not, John. My married life is very happj'- and I had 
 
 neither. 
 
 John 
 
 I can say the same. All I ask is plenty of work and decent 
 wag-es to keep the worried look from my dear wife's sweet face. 
 
 James 
 Plenty of work and good wages is an honest man's sole de- 
 sire, {they whistle: shortly) Sure they'll forget all about this 
 affair when their honeymoon is over. 
 
 John {emphatically) 
 A man who loves his wife and family, his honeymoon is 
 
 never over. 
 
 James 
 
 A little more smilax, John {they have very nearly finished . 
 
 John gives him the smilax. He cuts it with his knife to suit 
 
 him then sticks his knife i7i a flower pot beside him. They 
 
 whistle. Enter from r. e. Mrs. Phorbes. She is not seen by 
 
 the men. Shemakes two or three efforts to speak, but is drowned 
 
 by the loud whistling. She stands staring at the men fo7 a few 
 
 seconds when they both see her and stop ve'^y suddenly. They 
 
 feel embarrassed. ) 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 You gentlemen are evidently happy, {looking around) You 
 have made a very excellent job of it, neat and tasty. It looks 
 delightful. It looks charming. 
 
 James {gentlemanly) 
 
 We have spared no pains whatever, and are very glad it 
 meets with your approval. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes {emphatically) 
 
 It does decidedly; I am more than pleased. My daughter 
 would not consent to a high noon wedding at the church. She 
 possesses the greatest aversion for any thing the least sug- 
 gestive of ostentation; {the tnen ai'e picki7ig up,) so I decided 
 to have as pretty a home wedding as possible, {walkifig about 
 inspecting) I am quite sure I will succeed, {the men are ready 
 to go. ) 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 75 
 
 James {enquiring) 
 I believe there is nothing else? 
 
 rirs. Phorbes {pleasantly) 
 I believe not, {the men proceed to I. e.) 
 James 
 Good day, Mrs. Phorbes. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 Good da5% gentlemen! {they exit I. e. James leaves his huge 
 knife sticking in the floiver pot at bower. Mrs. Phorbes, after 
 inspecting their wofk) 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 Oh! How glad I am that at last there are prospects of my 
 daughter's happiness. This marriage combined with a long 
 wedding tour, seeing new places and new faces will abrade 
 her memory of all the unpleasant thoughts of a very disagree, 
 able past. Surely she has nothing now to complain of. A 
 pretty wedding, a long enjoyable honeymoon, a beautiful 
 home to go to on her return, — and above all a fine young man 
 for a husband. And still more, it will ease the minds of her 
 parents and allow them to live in comfort in their old age. I 
 saw no way out of it but by matrimony, I encouraged the 
 match, urged Cornelia's acceptance, and am indeed glad of 
 the result. {Enter time f-om r. e. Mr. Phorbes.) 
 Mr. Phorbes {looking around) 
 Well, Well, but this looks delightful, charming, charming. 
 It makes me almost wish I was young again. 
 rir. Phorbes 
 It is indeed very pretty. Our daughter should feel very 
 proud. 
 
 Mr. Phorbes {gazing admiringly) 
 Undoubtedly she does. To-night will be the beginning of a 
 new life for her. If her marriage does not enable her to for- 
 get the past, nothing will. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 You are quite right. I did my utmost to bring about this 
 match, for that particular purpose. Cornelia was very reluct- 
 ant at first but finally succumbed to maternal persuasion. 
 Mr. Phorbes. 
 Ay, a dutiful child. Worthy all the happiness in store for 
 her. I sincerely hope she will live long to enjoy it. 
 
76 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 She is very young- and a married life will g-ive her no op- 
 portunity to worry over what has already happened. I be- 
 lieve that from now on we may rest contented. Our daughter's 
 welfare will be of no serious concern to us. We will be con- 
 fident of her joy and comfort. Her husband to be has given us 
 every reason to believe that by no means will he permit her to 
 relapse for a mom.ent into serious meditation. Extreme levity 
 will be her portion for some time to come. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 How lovely it will be for all of us. No more worry, no more 
 anxiety. A fitting- peace in our old age. ( Enter from c. e. 
 Cornelia and Martha. She tries to look pleasant and contented. 
 She gazes at the luxurious flowers with ifidifference. Martha 
 looks aboiU, remains for a moment then exits c. e. Cornelia 
 proceeds to her parents and greets them with a smile. She is 
 attired in a beautiful wedding gown.) Ah, my dear child, this 
 will be the most joyful event of your life. A woman is al- 
 ways the happiest on her wedding night. 
 Cornelia {coolly) 
 
 I hope so. 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 Be calm and maintain composure during the ceremony my 
 daughter. 
 
 Cornelia. 
 
 I will make every effort to do your bidding. 
 Mrs. Phorbes 
 
 The time is now approaching for the guests' arrival. We 
 will see that nothing is wanting. That all is in readiness. 
 Mr. Phorbes 
 
 Yes, we vs\3.y expect the guests now at any moment. I will 
 accompany your mother and render her any necessary assist- 
 ance while you might stay here in the midst of those beautiful 
 flowers and muse over your coming happiness. {Exit r. e. 
 Mr. & Mrs. Phorbes. Cornelia looks arou7id) 
 Cornelia {with emotion) 
 
 Muse over my coming happiness, — Ay, if it only was so. 
 {She appears uneasy and sad. She is in deep meditation.) This 
 magnificence, this meaningless embellishment is all for me. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 77 
 
 Can love be made strong-er; can a marriage be made happier 
 by a temporary adornment of our environments? Is my mar- 
 ried life to be guided by the splendor of tonight? Wedded 
 amidst flowers, is to live amidst thorns. No, no, — I can see no 
 glory; I can imagine no happiness. The misery of a year is 
 but enchanced by the comparison. Could I have my own way, 
 I would remove this floral superfluity to the grave of dear, dear 
 Robert, {she weeps. Enter from c. e. Hairy Walters. He is 
 startled to see Cornelia weeping. He stops suddenly; then 
 approaches her) 
 
 Harry 
 
 What! Weeping on your wedding night? 
 
 Cornelia {turning quickly and grabbing his hand) 
 
 O, Harry, is it you? I have often wished very much to see 
 
 you. 
 
 Harry {interruptingly) 
 
 But, Cornelia, why those tears on the night of your marriage? 
 Cornelia {with emotion) 
 
 I would to God it was the night of my death. 
 Harry 
 
 Why, Miss Phorbes! You startle me. {He stares at her with 
 wonder) Why do you talk like this? Come; tell me; make me 
 your confiidant. You surprise me. I expected to find you 
 light-hearted, gay and full of frivolity. I can't account for 
 your melancholy. Pardon me, but your sad face does not har- 
 monize with so beautiful a wedding gown. Tell me, Cornelia, 
 you can trust me with any secret. I am your friend; and was 
 always a good friend to Robert {he awaits a reply). 
 Cornelia {after a short pause) 
 
 I know I am a peculiar girl, but I can't help it. I have been 
 
 so miserable the past year. I have no secret, Harry. I love 
 
 Robert, — I love him. 
 
 Harry {sadly) 
 
 But Robert is dead. 
 
 Cornelia {with emotion) 
 Then I have nothing to live for. 
 
 Harry {consolingly) 
 Oh, yes, you have. Here you are surrounded by loving par- 
 ents, dear friends, a coming dutiful and obliging husband. A 
 man who, I know, loves you. 
 
 LofC. 
 
78 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Cornelia (softly) 
 The love of a man you can not love is a disagreeable annoy- 
 ance. 
 
 Harry {with surprise) 
 Am I to infer that you have no love for him? Did you un- 
 willingly consent to become his wife? 
 
 Cornelia 
 Harry, I never loved him. I always liked him as a friend, 
 but I never coveted his friendship. I had no regard for his 
 individual company, though Robert, he, Delia and I, had 
 many pleasant times together. He was alwaj's a perfect gen- 
 tlemen and I thought a good friend of Robert; until he came 
 here one night and pleaded with me to become his wife. 
 Harry {quickly) 
 But, Robert was de — 
 
 Cornelia {interrtiptiiigly) 
 No. He was dying. It was the very night you sent me the 
 telegram announcing his death. Mr. Phillips was here when 
 I received it. 
 
 Harry {with suf prise) 
 He asked you to marry him when he knew you were to wed 
 Robert. 
 
 Cornelia {harshly) 
 Yes, and the more I admonished him for his cruel disregard 
 for Robert, the more emphatic he was in his demand. 
 Harry {itiqMisitively) 
 And you refused him. 
 
 Cornelia {with force) 
 I certainly did. 
 
 Harry {inquiringly) 
 He evidently succeeded in winning you over. 
 
 Cornelia {slowly) 
 In this way. He entreated my folks to use their influence 
 in his behalf. My mother seemed delighted with the idea; 
 and consequently did her best to bring about this wedding. 
 She and my father were certain it would make me myself 
 again. But I assure you the result will be quite the opposite. 
 Mr. Phillips also made many promises; some of them unden- 
 iably agreeable but not probable. He intimated that under 
 no consideration should we ever speak of the past, after we 
 became man and wife. He would promise never to mention 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI.TA 79 
 
 Delia's name, nor allude to anything- that would sug-g-est her 
 demise. We are to make a tour of the world which will neces- 
 sitate a couple of years travelling-, and by this means he ex- 
 pects to eliminate the thoughts of the past from my mind. 
 Harry [inquiringly) 
 Do you think he will succeed? 
 
 Cornelia {quickly) 
 No, I do not. Such a rash act as I have committed is not to 
 be so easily forg-otten. 
 
 Harry 
 Cornelia, you must insist upon forg-etting. None of us can 
 alter the past. Though there are plenty more than you 
 would like to, whose crimes and sins are unforg-iven. Your 
 deeds are perfectly excusable. God and man exonerate you. 
 Cornelia {sadly) 
 Oh, Harry but think of what I have done. I am the direct 
 cause of two deaths. I murdered Delia with my hands. I 
 killed Robert with my cruelty, {a bfief silence) Can a tour of 
 the world cleanse my heart and hands of this vile pollution? 
 Can the strang-e places and the strange faces induce me to 
 forget? No, No— No. I would sec the petite spirit of Delia 
 prancing in the skies of the sunny South. — I would see the 
 sweet face of Robert reflecting in the icebergs of the north. 
 No, No, — I can't — I shan't go. It would add to my uneasiness. 
 What care I for an Italian sunset, or the land of the midnight 
 sun. What care I for the world, when its dearest things have 
 departed, {softly) And why not I? 
 
 Harry {enquiringly) 
 Doyour-folks know your feelings in regard to this marriage? 
 
 Cornelia 
 No, they do not; they seem to think, that from this night 
 forth I will revel in a perpetual honeymoon. 
 Harry {pathetically) 
 It is too bad Cornelia that you should chose to feel like this 
 on the night of your wedding. 
 
 Cornelia 
 It is not a question of choice Harry, I really can not help it. 
 
 Harry 
 The more I think of your unhappiness, — the more impressed 
 I become with the dying words of Robert, {Cornelia looks at 
 
80 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 him with astonishment) I told you he died unconsciously, but 
 such was not the case. You were too full of grief and agony 
 to be trusted with the truth. 
 
 Cornelia {excitedly) 
 
 Harry! What were his last words? Tell me. I beg" of you. 
 Harry {sadly) 
 
 He grasped my hand tig-htly in his and said in a husky 
 voice with glaring eyes, * 'tell Cornelia, — I /<?z/^ her," Then 
 his eyes closed; we thought him dead; but in a few seconds he 
 opened his eyes, and as if he came back to earth to say some- 
 thing he gasped "Harry, promise me you will look after Cor- 
 nelia's welfare. See that she is ever comfortable and happy." 
 With tears in my eyes I promised him; then — his eyes closed, 
 his gi asp loosened, and a smile of contentment stole over his 
 countenance, and — {he pauses) 
 
 Cornelia {with griej) 
 
 And— 
 
 Harry {with emotion) 
 
 The physician pronounced him dead, {a brief silence) I pro- 
 mised him I would see that you were ever comfortable and 
 happy. But it is beyond my power. It is too late. I love 
 Olive Simmonds and intend to marry her some day; — you are 
 to marry Randall Phillips to-night. Any effort on my part to 
 carry out my promise might be injurious to both of us. It 
 would be impossible to induce this incredulous world to believe 
 our affections to be purely Platonic, {slowly) The only thing 
 remaining, is for you to relieve me of my obligation. {Cornelia 
 turns suddenly and faces hi'>n) 
 
 Cornelia {appealingly) 
 
 Would you forsake me in this most pitiful hour? 
 Harry {consolingly) 
 
 I do not intend to forsake you Cornelia. I am aware of my 
 inability to please you when all this, {refefring to the flo7'al 
 decorations) and other things have failed to do so. If there is 
 any way in which you may be made more happy, I am per- 
 fectly willing to exert my influence, my resources, physical 
 and financial to gain that end. Had I known you so painfully 
 dreaded this marriage I might have interfered, and done 
 much to prevent it. But now, it is too late. It can not be 
 avoided. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNEI^IA 81 
 
 Cornelia {softly with emotion) 
 Yes, it can, — 
 
 Harry {with surprise) 
 Now! at this late hour, when the minister and the g-uests are 
 expected? No, Cornelia you talk unreasonably; it can not be 
 avoided. 
 
 Cornelia {drawing closer to hitn; softly) 
 If 5'ou are willing- to keep your promise with the dead: This 
 marraig-e can be avoided, and I can be made happy. 
 Harry {staring at her with wonder) 
 In what way! How do you mean? 
 
 Cornelia {softly) 
 Here I am watched so closely I am unable to do anything-* 
 Like the most suspected criminal I exist under the strictest 
 surveillance, {in a low tone) Could I once escape from this 
 house, without beinsr seen I would — {she hesitates, she falters, 
 Harry grabs hef wrist.) 
 
 Harry {excitedly) 
 You would not Cornelia! You would not. 
 
 Cornelia {quickly) 
 Yes I would, Harry. Why should I suffer all this misery 
 when death is so peaceful and so sweet. Why should I marry 
 the man I abhor, when I could lie in the arms of Robert, the 
 man I love? {A shoft silcfice. Harry is meditative and confused) 
 If you are a man of your word ; if you care to g-ive me the com- 
 fort and happiness you promised your dearest friend on his 
 death bed; if you would relieve me of all this pain and ag-ony; 
 if you would do a charitable act, go — g-o — to the nearest drug- 
 store — and — {Hariy tries to console her) 
 
 Harry {interrupting) 
 Stop! stop! Cornelia, you are mad. 
 
 Cornelia {throwing her afm around his neck, appealingly) 
 No, No, Harry, I am not mad. Please, please; I beg- of you — 
 Get me — g-et me {she is nefvous and confused she whispers in his 
 ear. He is astonished. He breaks from her) 
 Harry {agitated) 
 What! Do you think me so foolish. Do I appear to you to be 
 so absurd, so ridiculous as to comply with so preposterous a 
 request? Do you believe I could g-o through this world with 
 such a stain on my soul; that I could be an accomplice to your 
 
82 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 brutal, unladylike and unrelig-ious design? Cornelia, you 
 should expel such thoughts from your mind. You will cer- 
 tainly lose your reason should you insist upon disturbing your 
 brain with such gloom and disorder. 
 
 Cornelia {appealingly) 
 
 Would you not prefer to see me peacefully nestling in the 
 tranquil bosom of the Lord, — rather than exist in a state of 
 misery and disquietude which is to be augmented, enhanced, 
 made greater by a marriage which you can aid me to avoid? 
 Heaven is a sanctified haven created by the good Lord to re- 
 ceive such wearied souls as mine. 
 
 Harry {with emphasis) 
 
 Do you believe, that God would permit so sanctified a 
 heaven to become contaminated by the presence of a soul 
 guilty of so dreadful a deed? Do you forget that self-murder 
 is a crime? 
 
 Cornelia 
 
 'Tis well for you and others of your happy condition to 
 preach the morals of life, prompted by an ignorance of their 
 existence. How about the poor and the wretched? The will- 
 ing toilers whose compensation is an aggravation? The 
 miserable and dejected; whose eyes have been turned in 
 every direction for encouragement, and the cold look of hum- 
 anity has frosted their trivial hopes. How about the thous- 
 ands who have lived in a semi-human manner, crushed be- 
 neath the power of advanced commercialism and organized 
 wealth, who to-day are sleeping undisturbed in their silent 
 graves. Those who have chosen death to continual suffering. 
 Will God turn his head from such ones? Will he refuse them 
 entrance into his kingdom? No! On the contrary he will re- 
 ceive them in his outstretched arms, — while he points his 
 warning finger to the promoters of avarice and the lovers of 
 gold. Suicide is but the abdication of this life, with a view to 
 something better. 
 
 Harry {much sut poised) 
 
 What a low, mean, degraded, unnatural, unbecoming un- 
 philosophical, unreligious and cowardlj' waj^ to judge the 
 value of your own life. Your polemic discourse is vulgar and 
 unreasonable. Your view of crime seems thoroughlj^ indif- 
 ferent. Any one who would raise his hand against his own 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 83 
 
 soul is a coward; a beastly coward. The sunshine of this life 
 must be necessaril}' darkened — by an intermittent gloom. 
 Cornelia {quickly) 
 Harry you vex me. I won't, I shan't marry that man; 
 whether it is cowardly or not. I don't care. I will die sooner 
 than become his wife. Help me Harry. Do as I ask. Get 
 me the vial, [she fofces her handkerchief in his hand) You can 
 place it in that. {Harry tries to give her back the handkerchief. 
 
 Cornelia avoids hirn ) 
 
 Harry {zvith force) 
 
 No, no, Cornelia, I shall not, I refuse to do it. 
 
 Cornelia {excitedly) 
 Yes you will. Yes you will, Harry. I will see you here; hand 
 me the vial in my handkerchief. I can put it to my lips; no 
 one will know. I can drink its contents, {clasping her hands) 
 And in a few moments all will be over. 
 
 Harry {approaching her) 
 I tell you no; Cornelia. I can not. I shall not. 
 
 Cornelia 
 Yes; yes; Harry, you must. I will go to my room and pre- 
 pare for all. It is my wish. It is my request. Go, Harry. 
 Do my bidding. 
 
 Harry 
 
 No, no, Cornelia, I can't {Cornelia proceeds to r. e.) 
 
 Cornelia 
 You must. I will expect 3'ou here on my return with the 
 poison. Be quick! there is no time to spare; be quick. {She 
 exits r. e. Harry stands meditative and confused.) 
 Harry {softly; after a brief silence) 
 Poor girl. {He looks at handkerchief. He drops his eyes and 
 thifiks. While standing in deep meditation he hears a laugh on 
 the outside. He looks towards c. e. Enter at this time Ran- 
 dall Phillips and Franklin Bennet. Harry approaches them.) 
 Harry {apptaching them) 
 Good evening, gentlemen. 
 
 Randall and Franklin {together) 
 
 Good evening! 
 
 Harry {to Randall) 
 
 I must congratulate you for having captured so beautiful and 
 refined a young lady as Miss Phorbes. I trust your married 
 life will be a most happy one. 
 
84 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 Randall {pleasantly) 
 Thank you. I will make every effort to render our wedded 
 life an everlasting" bliss. 
 
 Franklin {with a smile) 
 There is every reason to believe your good humor and pleas- 
 ant manner, combined with an unimpaired devotion will make 
 your effort a ver^^ successful one. 
 
 Randall {smiling) 
 Thank you. 
 
 Harry {to Frafiklin) 
 By the way, Franklin; since congratulations are in order, I 
 must extend the same to you, for the happy conciliation which 
 has been effected between Miss Lewison and you. 
 
 Franklin 
 I doubt very much whether I ought to accept your congratu- 
 lations. I believe I should refer you to the one who perfected 
 the conciliation. 
 
 Harry 
 To whom do j'^ou mean? 
 
 Franklin 
 
 To Miss Phorbes, the successful arbitrator, who finally in- 
 duced Miss Lewison to renounce the political and adhere to the 
 domestic. 
 
 Harry {astonished) 
 Indeed! She is to be congratulated; likewise Miss Lewison, 
 for her wise submission. She has undoubtedly discovered love 
 to be more desirable than politics. 
 
 Franklin {laughing) 
 So it appears. 
 
 Randall {interi'upting) 
 To a modest young woman, love is more desirable than anj^- 
 thing else . {Randall and Franklin inspect the floral decorations. \ 
 Harry {proceedi^ig to c. e. 
 Pardon me, gentlemen; I will return shortly, {exit c.) 
 Randall {after a short silence in which he carefully observes the 
 flowefs and palms. 
 In the midst of all this beauty and grandeur, I do possess a 
 degree of aprehension. 
 
 Franklin {encouragingly) 
 Nonsense, my boy; you are nervous, naturally nervous; sup- 
 erinduced by excessive thinking. Brace up! The whole world 
 envies you. 
 
ROBERT AND CORNELIA 85 
 
 Randall {softly) 
 
 I would the course of the next half-hour was over. 
 
 {At this time enter Mts. Photbes and Minister Jroni r. e. 
 They approach Randall aiid Franklin who are introduced to the 
 miriister by Mrs. Phorbes.) 
 
 Mrs. Phorbes. 
 
 Doctor, this is Mr. Phillips, the brideg-room, and Mr. Ben- 
 nett, the best man. ( They bow reverently) 
 flinister {to Randall) 
 
 Young- man, you must certainly be envied even by the gods. 
 In your wife to be is embodied the quintessence of everything- 
 which makes a woman charming-, immaculate and holy. I have 
 known her from her childhood. The g-reatest g-enius istooig-no- 
 rant to accurately describe to you the value of your prize. {At 
 this time enter from c. e. Maud Lewison, Olive Simmonds, Har- 
 ry Walters and other guests. They gather in little groups. The 
 minister takes his place under the arbor. Shortly enters r. e. 
 Cornelia on her father's arm. They proceed slowly to centre. 
 Harry Walters withdraws a few feet from guests. Cornelia is 
 nervous and confused^ but tries to appear otherwise. She spies 
 Harry; breaks from her father and hastens to him. 
 Cornelia {softly to Harry) 
 
 In your hands, Mr. Walters, I have placed my fate. Am I to 
 be wretched; or am I to be happy? {Harry passes the haiidker- 
 chief to her. She unfolds it, nervous and distracted. It contains 
 no vial. She stares at him with a mad glance and says in a low 
 trembling voice) Must I marry him? Must I? {a short silence) 
 Harry {in a low, sad voice) 
 
 Yes, Cornelia, you must. 
 
 {She stares at him for a mom,ent and joins her father. All is 
 ready for the ceremony. The guests are in their places. Corne- 
 lia and Randall are ready. The questions are being asked. Ran- 
 dall answers in a bold, distinct voice; Cornelia in a low, trem- 
 bling voice. When it is her turn to answef "jv^5" she discovers 
 the huge knife the florist left behind him, she reaches quickly for 
 it. With a yell) 
 
 Cornelia 
 
 Omega! 
 
86 ROBERT AND CORNELIA 
 
 {She thrusts it into her heart. All is confusion and despair. 
 The minister bows his head in pray et and says in a low, sad voice) 
 
 Minister 
 She is dead. An undefiled bride of the unavoidable. 
 
 {Randall drops his head in Franklin^s bosom. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Phorbes a-te prostrated. All are weeping. Harry is on one 
 knee looking into the face of Cofnelia. The curtain falls on a 
 sad picture. ) 
 
 — FINIS- 
 
 LB ,Ag '05 
 
I 
 
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