PQ 2635 07 R72 1915 MAIN THE WORLD'S BEST PLAYS BY CELEBRATED EUROPEAN AUTHORS BARRETT H. CLARK C»SNBRAL EDITOR The Romancers : Com- dy in Three Acts : by Edmond Rostfand: Trans- lated by Barrett H. Clark Samuel French : Publisher 28-30 West Thirty-eighth St. : New York LONDON Samuel French, Ltd. 26 Southampton Street, Strand copybight, 1915 By Samuel French :> 1. 07 R% EDMOND ROSTAND Edmond Rostand was born at Marseilles in i868. Rostand is undoubtedly one of the most brilliant dramatic poets of modern times. " Les Romanes- ques " — " The Romancers " — was performed for the first time in Paris, at the Comedie Frangaise, in 1894, and achieved considerable success. Its delicacy and charm revealed the true poet, and the deftness with which the plot was handled left little doubt as to the author's ability to construct an interesting and moving drama. But not until the production of " Cyrano de Bergerac " in 1897 did Rostand become known to the world at large. " L'Aiglon '* (1900) was something of a disap- pointment after the brilliant " Cyrano." Ten years later came " Chantecler," the poet's deepest and in many ways most masterly play. "' The Romancers " is best played in the romantic atmosphere of the late Eighteenth century; the costumes should be Louis XVI. The stage-direc- tions are sufficiently detailed. 383535 THE ROMANCERS PERSONS IN THE PLAY Sylvette Percinet Straforel Bergamin Percinet's father Pasquinot Sylvette's father Blaise A gardener A Wall {Not a speaking part) Swordsmen, musicians, negroes, torch-bearers, a notary, four witnesses, and other supernu- meraries. The action takes place anywhere, provided the costumes are ^pretty. 6 THE ROMANCERS ACT I The stage is divided by art old wall, covered with vines and poweE^l At the right, a corner of Bergamin's private park; at the left, a corner of Pasquinot's. Ofi each side of the wall, and against it, is a rustic bench. As the curtain rises, Percinet is seated on the top of the wall. On his knee is a book, out of zvhich he is reading to Sylvette, who stands attentively listening on the bench which is on the other side of the wall. wSylvette. Monsieur Percinet, how divinely beautiful ! Percinet. Is it not? Listen to what Romeo answers: {Reading) ** It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops : I must begone " Sylvette. {Interrupts him, as she listens) Sh! Percinet. (Listens a moment, then) No one ! 7 8 THE ROMANCERS And, Mademoiselle, you must not take fright like a startled bird. Hear the immortal lovers: '' Juliet. Yon light is not *^i*:> daylight, I know it, I, It is some meteor that the sun exhales. To be to thee this night a torch-bearer. And light thee on thy way to Mantua: Therefore stay yet, thou need'st not to be gone. Roineo. Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death ; I am content, so thou v/ill have it so. ril say, yon gray is not the morning's eye, 'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brov/ ; Nor that is not the lark, v/hose notes do beat The vanity heaven so high above our heads : I have more care to stay than will to go : Come, death and welcome" Sylvette. No, he must not say such things, or I shall cry. Percinet. Then let us stop and read no further until to-morrow. We shall let Romeo live! {He closes the hook and looks about him) This charm- ing spot seems expressly made, it seems to rne, to cradle the w^ords of the Divine Will ! Sylvette. The verses are divine, and the soft air here is a divine accompaniment. And see, these green shades !' But, Monsieur Percinet, what makes them divine to me is the way you read ! Percinet. Flatterer ! Sylvette. {Sighing) Poor lovers ! Their fate was cruel! {Another sigh) I think Percinet. What ? Sylvette. Nothing ! Percinet. Something that made you blush red as a rose. Sylvette. Nothing, I say. Percinet. Ah, that's too transparent. I see ii all: you are thinking of our fathers! THE ROMANCERS Sylvette. Perhaps- Percinet. Of their terrible hatred for each other. Sylvette. The thought often pains me and makes me cry when I am alone. Last month, when I came home from the convent, my father pointed out your father's park, and said to me : " My dear child, you behold there the domain of my mortal enemy, Bergamin. Never cross the path of those two rascals, Bergamin and his son Percinet. Mark well my words, and obey me to the letter, or I shall cast you off as an enemy. Their family has always been at bitter enmity with our own." And I promised. But you see how I keep my word! Percinet. Did I not promise my father to do the same, Sylvette? Yet I love you! Sylvette. Holy saints! Percinet. I love you, my dearest ! Sylvette. It's sinful ! Percinet. Very — but what can we do? The greater the obstacles to be overcome, the sweeter the reward. Sylvette, kiss me ! Sylvette. Never! {She jumps down from the bench and runs off a fezv steps) Percinet. But you love me? Sylvette. What ? Percinet. My dear child: I, too, sometimes think of us and compare you and me with those other lovers — of Verona. Sylvette. But / didn't compare — ! Percinet. You and I are Juliet and Romeo; I love you to despair, and I shall brave the wrath of Pasquinot-Capulet and Bergamin-Montague ! Sylvette. (Coming a little nearer to the wall) Then we love? But how. Monsieur Percinet, has it happened so soon? Percinet. Love is born we know not how, be- lo THE ROMANCERS cause it must be born. I often saw you pass my window Sylvette. I saw you, too ! Percinet. And our eyes spoke in silence. Sylvette. One day I was gathering nuts in the garden by the wall Percinet. One day I happened to be reading Shakespeare. See how everything conspired to unite two hearts ! Sylvette. And a little gust of wind blew my scarf in your direction. Percinet. I climbed to the wall to return it Sylvette. (Climbing the zvall again) I climbed too! Percinet. And since that day, my dear, I have waited at the same hour, here by this wall; and each time my heart beat louder and faster, until I knew by your soft laugh that you were near ! Sylvette. Now since we love, we must be married. Percinet. I was just thinking about that. Sylvette. (Solemnly) I, last of the Pasqui- nots, do solemnly pledge myself to you, last of the Bergamins. Percinet. What noble recklessness ! Sylvette. We shall be sung in future ages ! Percinet. Two tender children of too hard- hearted fathers ! Sylvette. But who knows whether the hour is not at hand when our father's hatred may end? Percinet. I doubt it. Sylvette. I have heard of stranger things. I can think of half a dozen Percinet. What, for instance? Sylvette. Imagine that the reigning prince comes riding past some day — I run to him and kneel, and tell him the story of our love and of our fathers' hatred. The prince asks to see my father and THE ROMANCERS ii Bergamin, and they are reconciled. Percinet. And your father gives me your hand ! Sylvette. Yes. Or else, you languish, the doctor declares you cannot live Percinet. And asks: "What ails you?" Sylvette. And you answer : " I must have Sylvette ! " Percinet. And his pride is then forced to bend. Sylvette. Yes. Or else : an aged duke, having seen my portrait, falls in love with me, sends a 'squire to sue for my hand, and offers to make me a duchess. Percinet. And you say, " No ! " Sylvette. He is offended, and some dark night when I am in the garden, meditating, he springs forth out of the darkness ! I scream ! Percinet. And I lose not a second in springing over the wall, dagger in hand. I fight like a tiger, I Sylvette. You lay low three or four men. Then my father rushes in and takes me in his arms. You tell him who you are. His heart softens, he gives me to my savior. Your father consents, for he is proud of your bravery. Percinet. Then we live together for years, happy and content ! Sylvette. This is not at all impossible, is it? /Percinet. Someone's coming! Sylvette. (Forgetting herself) Kiss me! Percinet. (Kissing her) This evening, at eight, then? As usual? You will come? Sylvette. No. Percinet. Yes ! Sylvette. (Disappearing behind the zcall) Your father! (Ferci:set jumps quickly from the iK-^all) 12 THE ROMANCERS \J^ XEnter Bergamin.) Bergamin. Ah, ha, I find you here again, dreaming in this corner of the park! Percinet. Father, I love this old corner ! . I adore this bench over which the vines of the wall have so gracefully draped themselves. ' See, what graceful arabesb[ues these festoons make ! The air is purer here. Bergamin. By the side of this wall? Percinet. I love it!, Bergamin. I see nothing lovable about it! Sylvette. (Aside) He can't see why ! Percinet. But it is charming, all covered v/ith ivy and creeper. See here, what honeysuckle ! This hundred-year-old wall, with its clinging vines, its constellations of flowers, looking through the crannies, kissed by the summer sun, makes the bench a throne fit for kings ! Bergamin. Nonsense, you hare-brained youth ! Do you mean to tell me that this wall has eyes? Percinet. Ah, what eyes! (Turns to-war'd the wall) Of soft azure, yet dazzlingly blue; let but a tear come to dim your brightness, or a single kiss — Bergamin. But the wall hasn't eyes, you idiot! Percinet. See this vine, though! (He phicks part of the vine from the zvall and graciously presents it to his father) Sylvette. (Aside) How clever! Bergamin. How stupid ! But I know now what has turned -your silly head : you come here to read! (Sylvette starts as she hears this. Per ciNET also shows signs of fear as his father pulls the book from the youth's pocket) Plays ! (He drops the book in horror) Arid verse! Verse! That's what has turned your head. Now I see why THE ROMANCERS 13 you talk about eyes and honeysuckle. I tell you, to be useful, a wall doesn't have to be beautiful. I am going to have all this green stuff taken away, and the bricks re-laid and the holes stopped up. I want a white wall and a high one to keep the neighbors from looking into our park. I want no vines and honeysuckles. Along the top Fll sprinkle broken glass Percinet. Pity ! Bergamin. No pity! I insist on it! Glass — all along the top of the wall! (Sylvette and Per- cinet are in despair. Bergamin sits down on the bench) And now, I have something to say to you. (He rises and examines the wall) If the wall hasn't eyes, it may possibly have ears? (He is about to stand on the bench, when Percinet takes fright and Sylvette clings close to her side of the wall, making herself as small as she can, Bergamin decides not to scale the wall, but motions to his son to do so) See whether some curious listener — ? Percinet. (Climbing to the top and leaning over so that Sylvette can hear him) Till to-night! Sylvette. (Giving him her hand, zvhich he kisses) ril come as the clock is striking! I adore vou Bergamin. (To Percinet) Well? Percinet. (Jumping down — to his father) No one! Bergamin. (Re-seating himself) Well, then, my boy, I should like to see you married. Sylvette. (Aside) Oh! Bergamin. What's that? Percinet. Nothing. Bergamin. I thought I heard a cry? Percinet. (Looking into the air) Some wounded bird, perhaps. Bergamin. I have given the matter my un- 14 THE ROMANCERS divided attention, and have chosen a wife for you. (Percinet whistles and walks away) I tell you, I am in earnest and I intend to force you, if necessary. (Percinet continues zvhistling) Will you stop that confounded whistling!/ The young woman is rich — she's a jewel! Percinet. I want none of your jewels ! Bergamin. ril show you, you young insolent! Percinet. (Grasping his father's cane, zvhich is raised as if to strike him) Spring has filled the bushes with the songs of birds ; the brooklets accom- pany the love-notes of wild birds. Bergamin. Rascal ! Percinet. (Still holding the cane) The whole world laughs and sings farewell to April. The butterflies Bergamin. Ruffian! Percinet. (As before) Wing their way across the meadows, to make love to the adored flowers ! Love Bergamin. Villain ! Percinet. Love opens wide the heart of all nature. And you ask me to consent to a marriage of reason ! Bergamin. Of course I do ! Percinet. (Passionately) No, no, no. Father. I swear by this wall — which hears me, I hope — that my marriage will be more romantic than any dreamed of in the most poetic of the world's love stories! (He runs out) Bergamin. (Pursifing him) Ah, let me catch you — ! Sylvette. I can really understand now why Papa hates that odious old man! (Enter Pasquinot, left.) Pasquinot. Well, Mademoiselle, what are you doing here? ^^ THE ROMANCERS 15 Sylvette. Nothing. ^i^Taking the air. Pasquinot. Alone? But, you silly girl, are you not afraid? Sylvette. Not in the least. Pasquinot. Near this wall? I forbade you to come near it! You see that park over there? That belongs to my mortal enemy ! Sylvette. I know it, Father dear. Pasquinot. iWhy, here you are exposed to any insult, any — if those rascals knew that my daughter were walking alone in this park — Brr ! It makes me shiver to think of ! I'm going to have the wall repaired, and erect a huge iron grill on top of it. Sylvette. (Aside) He'll never do it — it would cost too much! Pasquinot. Now go into the house — quick ! She goes out, Pasquinot glowering at her) "Bergamin. (Heard from the other side of the zvall, as he enters) Take this note at once to Mon- sieur Straforel. Pasquinot. (Running to the wall and climbing to the top of it) Bergamin ! ' . Bergamin. (Doing likezmse) Pasquinot! ^i^They em brace ) v ^ a-<^ g Pasquinot. How are you? ■ n If^-^^^ Bergamin. Pretty well. ^^ Pasquinot. How's your gout? Bergamin. Better. And how is your cold? Pasquinot. Still troubles me, devil take it! Bergamin. Well, the marriage is arranged ! Pasquinot. What ? Bergamin. I heard everything — I was hidden in the bushes. They adore each other ! Pasquinot. Bravo ! Bergamin. We must bring matters to a head ! (He rubs his hands) Ha, ha! Nov/ we can do as we had planned Pasquinot. Yes, and tear down the wall. i6 THE ROMANCERS Bergamin. And live together. Pasquinot. Joining our properties. Bergamin. By marrying our children. Bui i wonder whether they would be so anxious if they knew we wished it? A marriage arranged before- hand is not so tempting to two young children so romantic as ours. That is why we kept our own wishes a secret. I felt sure that after they had been separated — Sylvette in the convent, Percinet at school — they would thrive on their secret love. That is how I came to invent this hatred of ours. And you even doubted its success ! Now all we have to do is to say Yes. Pasquinot. But how can it be done? Re- member, Tve called you a scoundrel, fool, idiot — Bergamin. Idiot? Scoundrel was sufficient. J Pasquinot. Now, what pretext — ? Bergamin. Your daughter herself has given me an inspiration. This evening they are to meet here at eight. Percinet comes first. At the mo- ment Sylvette appears, mysterious men in black will emxcrge from the shadov/s and start to carry her off. An abduction! She screams, then our young hero gives chase, draws his sword — the ravishers pretend to flee — I arrive on the scene, then you — your daughter is safe and sound. You bless the couple and drop a few appropriate tears ; my heart is softened. Tableau. Pasquinot. A stroke of genius. Bergamin. (Modestly) Yes — I think it really is. Look — see that man coming? It's Straforel, the bravado whom I wrote to a few minutes ago. He is to superintend the abduction. (Straforel, in an elaborate swordsman's costume, appears at the back of Bergamin's park, and swaggers down-stage.) THE ROMANCERS: i\^^'^- 17 Bergamin. (Descending from the wall and bow- ing low to Straforel) Allow me to introduce you to my friend Pasquinot. Straforel. (Bozving) Monsieur! (He raises his head and sees no Pasquinot) Bergamin. (Pointing to Pasquinot on the crest of the zvnll) There, on the wall ! — Now, my dear master, does my plan meet with your approval ? Straforel. It does. It is most simple, Bergamin. You must act quickly, you under- stand ? Straforel. And say nothing! Bergamin. A make-believe abduction and stage- fight with swords. Straforel. I understand perfectly. Bergamin. You must have skilful swordsmen — I can't have my boy hurt. He is my only child ! Straforel. I will see to that myself. Bergamin. Good. In that case, I shall fear nothing. Pasquinot. (Aside to Bergamin) Ask him the price? Bergamin. For an abduction. Maestro, how much do you charge? Straforel. That depends. Monsieur, on the kind you wish; we have them at all prices. In an affair of this kind, however, nothing should be spared. If I were in your place, I should have a lirst-class abduction. Bergamin. (Surprised) Then you have many classes ? Straforel. Indeed I have. I have the ordinary vulgar abduction in a cab, with two men dressed in black — that's rarely used ; the daylight abduction, the midnight abduction: the pompous abduction in a court carriage, with powdered servants — wigs are extra — with mutes, negroes, brigands, musketeers, anything you like ! The abduction in a post-chaise, i8 THE ROMANCERS with two, three, four, five, horses, ad Hb. ; the dis- creet and quiet abduction, in a small carriage — that one's rather luruWious; the rollicking abduc- tion, in which the victim is carried away in a sack ; the romantic abduction in a boat — but a lake is necessary ! — the Venetian abduction, in a gondola — ah, you have no lagoon ! Moonlight abduction, or the abduction on a dark and starless night — ^those moonlight abductions are quite the style, though they are a little dear ! — Besides these, there is the abduc- tion by torch-light, with cries and screams, and clash and shock of arms; the brutal abduction, the polite abduction; the classical one with masks; the gallant abduction to the accompaniment of music; but the latest, most stylish, gayest of all, is the sedan-chair abduction ! Bergamin. (Scratchuig his head — aside to Pasquinot) Well,' what do you think? Pasquinot. Hm, what do you ? Bergamin. I think that we should do every- thing in the best possible way, no expense spared. Let us give our young romancers something they'll not soon forget. Let's have it with masks, dark mantles, torches, music, and a sedan-chair! Straforel. (Taking notes) A first-class, then, with all extras. Bergamin. That's it. Straforel. I shall return soon. (To Pasqui- not) Remember, Monsieur, to leave open the door of your park to-night. Bergamin. Very well, it shall be done. Straforel. (Bowing) My compliments. (Turning to go) One first-class — with extras. (He goes out) Pasquinot. The honest man, he went, without telling us the price ! Bergamin. Everything is arranged. Now we'll live together, after demolishing the wall. THE ROMANCERS 19 Pasquinot. And in winter we'll have but one hearth and home ! Bergamin. Our dearest wishes are about to be realized ! Pasquinot. And we'll grow old together! Bergamin. Dear old Pasquinot! Pasquinot. Dear old Bergamin! {They em- brace. Sylvette and Percinet enter, from each side of the stage and, seeing their fathers embrace) Sylvette. Oh ! Bergamin. {Aside to Pasquinot) Your daughter ! Percinet. Oh ! Pasquinot. (Aside to Bergamin) Your son! Bergamin. {Aside to Pasquinot) We must pretend to fight ! ( Their embrace is transformed into a struggle) Rascal! Pasquinot. Fool ! Sylvette. {Pulling her father's coat-tails) Papa ! ' Percinet. {Doing the same with his father) Papa! ' Bergamin. Let us be! Pasquinot. He insulted me ! Bergamin. He struck me ! Pasquinot. Coward! Sylvette. Papa ! Bergamin. Thief ! Percinet. Papa ! Pasquinot. Bandit ! Sylvette. Papa!! (Sylvette and Percinet finally succeed in separating the fathers) Percinet. {Dragging his father azvay) Go in now. it's late. Bergamin. {Trying to go to the wall again) I can't control myself. Just let me — ! (Percinet takes him. out) 20 THE ROMANCERS Pasquinot. (Also trying to return to the wall) ril kill him ! Sylvette. (Dragging Pasquinot out) The air is so damp! Think of your rhemnatism ! (They go out) ... (Little by little it grozvs dark. For a moment the stage is empty. Then, in Pasouinot's park, enter Stfaforel and szvordsmen, musicians, and torch-bcarrrs.) Straforel. 1 see one star already. The day is dying. (He places his men about the stage) Stay there — you there — and you there. The hour is near. You will see, as the clock strikes eight, a figure in white enter on this side. Then I whistle — (He looks at the sky again ) The moon ? Splendid ! Every effect is perfect to-night ! (Examining the costumes of his band) The capes and mantels are excellent. Look a little more dangerous, over there! Now, ready? (A sedan-chair is brought in) The chair over there in the shade. (Seeing the negroes zvho carry the chair) The negroes are good ! (Speak- ing at a distance) Torches, there, you understand you are not to come until you receive the signal? (The faint reflection of the torches is seen at the back of the stage, through the underbrush. Enter the musicians) Musicians? There — at the back. Now, a little distinction and life ! Vary your poses from time to time. Stand straight, mandolin ! Sit down, alto! There. (Severely to a szvordsmnn) You, first mask, don't look so harmless — I want a villainous slouch ! Good ! Now, instruments, play softly — tune up ! Good — tra la la ! (He puts on his mask) (Percinet enters slowly from the other side of the stage. As he speaks the follozuing lines, the Oaaved not so long ago ? It has come, and are you afraid ? Love, stars, a cottage. Yes, I did want it — but only a little — like seasoning in a stew ! This is too much — I couldn't stand it. (The sun is setting. Sylvette takes lip her scarf, which she had left on the bench, and puts it over her head) Who knows whether — ? (Percinet appears. He is in rags, and his arm is in a sling. He looks ill, and can scarcely walk.) Percinet. (Not seeing Sylvette) I have had nothing to eat since yesterday — I can hardly walk. Fm not proud now ! I want no more adventures. (He sits down on the wall. His hat falls frofu his eyes, and reveals his^ identity. Sylvette sees him) Sylvette. You?! (He rises, and stands looking at her) What has happened to you? Can it be—? Percinet. (Piteottsly) It can! Sylvette. (Wringing her hands) Heavens! Percinet. I resemble somewhat the prodigal .son, do I not? (He totters) Sylvette. You can't stand up ! Percinet. I am so tired. Sylvette. (Looking at his arm — zvith a cry) Wounded ! Percinet. Can you pity the ungrateful? Sylvette. (Severely) Only fathers kill fatted calves. Still, that wounded arm? Percinet. Oh, I assure you it's not serious. Sylvette. But what have you been doing, Mon- THE ROMANCERS 21 stage becomes darker, until at the end, it is night. ) Percinet. My father is calmer now. The day is dying, and the intoxicating odor of the elders is wafted to me ; the flowers close their petals in the gray of the evening — '■ — Straforel. {Aside to the violins) Music! {The musicians play softly until the end of the act) Percinet. I tremble like a reed. She is com- ing! Straforel. {To the musicians) Amoroso! Percinet. My first evening meeting — I can scarcely stand ! The evening breeze sounds like the fluttering of her dress. Now I can't see the flowers, but I can smell them. Ah, this great tree, with a star above it — Music? Who — ? {A pause) Night has come. {After anclher pcnse, a clock strikes eight in the distance. Sylvette appears at the back of her park) Sylvette. The hour has struoJc. He must be waiting. {A whistle is heard. STRAgPffiL rises in front of Sylvette, and torch-oearers appear in the background. Sylvette screams. The swords- men seize and put her into the sedan-chair.) Sylvette. Help ! Help ! Percinet. Great Heavens ! Sylvette. Percinet, they are carrying me off! Percinet. {Leaping to the zvall) I come! {When he reaches the top of the wall, he draws his szvord, jumps down on the other side, and engages four or five szvordsmen in combat. They flee be- fore him) There, and there, and there! 22 THE ROMANCERS Straforel. {To the musicians) Tremolos {The violins now play a dramatic tremolo.) ^Straforel. Per Bacco, he's the devil, that child! (Percinet now engages Straforel in a duel. Straforel, after a few thrusts, puts his hand to his breast) I — Fm mortally wounded! {He falls) Percinet. {Running to Syta^ette, who sits in the sedan-chair) Sylvettc ! [He kneels to her) Sylvette. My savior 1 u,«.A - ^ Pasquinot. {Entering) ^^ ' Bergamin's son! Your savior ? Your savior ? I give you to him ! Sylvette a;/ d Percinet. M€avens ! (Bergamin now appears on his side of the wall.) Pasquinot. {To Bergamin, zvho is seen on top of the wall) Bergamin, your son is a hero! Let us forget our quarrels, and make these children happy ! Bergamin. {Solernnly) I hate you no more! Percinet. Sylvette, don't speak loud: I know I am dreaming. But don't wake me ! Bergamin. Our hatred is ended in the marriage of our dear ones. {Indicating the wall) Hence- forth let there be no Pyrenees! Percinet. Who would have believed that my father could change so! Sylvette. I told you everything would turn out happily !s {While the lovers go up-stage with Pasquinot, Straforel rises and hands a folded paper to Bergamin) Bergamin. {Aside) What is it? This paper — your signature? What is it, if you please? Straforel. {Bozving) Monsieur, it's my bill! {He falls dozvn again) \ ^WM. vw^ ^"""^^^ u^^K^r^w--^^ (>rHN THE ROMANCERS 2Z Scene: The same, except that the wall has disap- peared. The benches zvhich zvere formerly against it are removed to the extreme right and left. There are a few extra pots of fiozvers and tzvo or three plaster statues. To the right is a small garden table, with chairs about it. As the curtain rises, Pasouinot is sitting on the bench to the left, reading a paper. Blaise is at the back, busy vAth his rake. Blaise. So the notary comes to-night, Monsieur Pasquinot? It is pleasant, now that the wall is down, and you living together this past month. It was high time, Fm thinking. Th? little lovers must be happy! Pasquinot. (Raising his head and looking about) So you like it without the v/all, Blaise? Blaise. The garden is superb ! Pasquinot. Yes, my property has increased a hundred per cent ! (Poking a tuft of grass with his foot) Have you watered the grass? (Furi- ously) You have no business doing that during the day ! Blaise. But Monsieur Bergamin told me to ! Pasquinot. Ah, I see ! He seems to think that the more grass is w^atered the better it becomes. Well, take those plants out of the green-house. (As Blaise begins arranging plants zvhich he gets from the green-house — just off-stage — enter Bergamin at the back) Bergamin, (Watering some fiozvers from a large zvatering 'can) Dear me, these plants never get enough water! (To a tree) Hey there, old man, you never get enough to drink, do you? There's for you ! { Laying dozvn the zvatering -can, 24 THE ROMANCERS he looks about him zuith satisfaction) Yes, it is better now. Very pretty — those statues there are a decided improvement. (Catching sight of Pasqui- not) How are you? (No anszver) How are vou? How are you? ( Pasquinot raises his head) Well? Pasquinot. My friend, why ask that? We see each other all the time ! Bergamin. Oh, very well (Seeing Blaise arranging the plants) \ Will you take those plants^ back?! (Blaise, not knowing zvhat to do, takes them hack immediately. Pasquinot raises his eyes, shrugs his shoulders, and then resumes his reading. Bergamin zvalks back and forth, and finally sits dozvn near Pasquinot. There is a pause) I used to come here every day, in silence — Pasquinot. (Laying aside his paper) I, too — it was most amusing ! Bergamin. And our secret ! Pasquinot. The very danger was amusing. Bergamin. And the things we had to say of each other — ! Pasquinot. Very amusing. — Bergamin ? Bergamin. Pasquinot? Pasquinot. Something's lacking now Bergamin. The idea! (After a moment's re- flection) Yes, I agree with you. Funny — are you losing your sense of the romantic? (He looks at Pasquinot and says, aside) His waistcoat often lacks a button! It's disgusting! (He rises and zvalks back and forth) Pasquinot. (Looking over his paper — aside) He looks like some immense beetle. (He pretends to be reading as Bergamin passes him) Bergamin. (Aside) See the ridiculous way he reads! (He whistles as he walks azvay tip-stage) Pasquinot. (Aside) Whistling! Oh, Heavens! Don't do that, whistling makes me nervous. THE ROMANCERS 25 Bergamin. (With a smile) Remember the mote in your neighbor's eye. You, too, get on my nerves sometimes. Pasquinot. I ? Bergamin. You tell the same story twenty times a day. Pasquinot. Why, I Bergamin. And when you sit down you swing your foot like a pendulum. At meals you roll your bread in a most disgusting manner. Pasquinot. Ha, you take me to task for my irritating mannerisms ! But let me tell you, you are no less unpleasant. You are ridiculous and thoroughly selfish. I know now what the trouble is : the wall — with it, we were happy, now we don't live at all. Bergamin. We didn't do this for ourselves, did we? Pasquinot. No, we did not! Bergamin. It was for our children. Pasquinot. For our children, yes. Let us therefore suffer in silence, and regret our former liberty. Bergamin. Sacrifice is the lot of parents. (Sylvette and Percinet appear at the left, up- stage, arm m arm.) Paquinot. Sh — the lovers! Bergamin. (Looking at them) See them! How they love each other ! Like the old pilgrims of love, they return each day to the sacred spot. (The lovers, who have meantime disappeared, re- appear on the opposite side of the stage, and come down toward the old men.) Paquinot. If they are talking as they usually 26 THE ROMANCERS do, their conversation will be well worth listening to! (Bergamin and Pasquinot retire behind a tree.) XynoiM^ IN) Percinet. I love you. Sylvette. I love you. (Tkey stop) Here is the famous spot. Percinet. Yes. He fell here, that big fellow, pierced to the heart. Sylvette. There was I, like Andromeda. Percinet. And I was Perseus ! Sylvette. How many v/ere there against you? Percinet. Ten ! Sylvette. Oh, there were twenty at least, not coimting the big leader. Percinet. Or thirty — there must have been! Sylvette. Tell mc once more how it was ac- complished ? Percinet. They fell — like cards in a row^ ! Sylvette. Our story should be put into a poem ! Percinet. It shall be. Sylvette. How I love you ! Percinet. I adore you! Sylvette. A realized dream. How my heart beat ! I would never think of marrying a common- place little husband picked out by my father ! Percinet. Indeed ? Sylvette. No, no, not the way husbands are usually given to young girls. Percinet. No, you would never have thought of marrying the son of your father's best friend. Sylvette. (Laughing) Indeed not. Have you noticed how our fathers have lately — ? Percinet. Yes, like two dogs. Bergamin. (Aside) Hm ! Percinet. And I know the reason why. This new arrangement is not the best thing for their THE ROMANCERS 27 property. Our fathers are very good people, you know, but they haven't much soul, and our brilliant adventure rather throws them into the shade Pasquinot. (Aside) How's that? Sylvette. You see, they are fathers of cele- brated lovers. Poor fathers, how they have been deceived ! Pasquinot. (Aside) Ha, ha! Percinet. Yes, Fate has been with us ! Bergamin. (Aside) Ha, ha! Sylvette. And to-night the marriage-contract is to be signed ! Percinet. I must have musicians. Sylvette. Then go quick. Percinet. I fly! Sylvette. (Calling him back) Fll take you as far as the gate. (They go upstage, arm in ami) We are at least as great as the most celebrated lovers. Percinet. We shall take ou:-p!r.:3 with Romeo and Juliet ! Sylvette. Aminta and her shepherd. Percinet. Pyramus and Thisbe. Sylvette. And so many others! (They disaf^- pear, hut their voices are heard outside) Voice of Percinet. Francesca and Paolo.^.. Voice of Sylvette. Petrarch and Laura. (Bergamin and Pasquinot emerge.) Pasquinot. See how well your plan has suc- ceeded ! Our children are quite mad, thanks to you! Bergamin. Your daughter, with her famous abduction, is most aggravating. Pasquinot. Your son thinks he is a hero. He gets on my nerves. Bergamin. But the worst of it all is that they 28 THE ROMANCERS think we are two idiotic old fools whom they have r deceived. I don't like it at all. Pasquinot. Why didn't you think of it before, ' wise man? Fm going to tell them everything. Bergamin. No, please don't do that— at least not until after the signing of the contract. Let us not say a word until then. Pasquinot. Very well. But meantime, here v/e are caught in the net of your own making. Bergamin. But my dear friend, you admired the plan ! Pasquinot. A fine plan, in truth! ^ tA.,^.^ (Sylvette enters gaily, zvith flowers in her hand. She zvaves to Percinet in the distance, then comes dozvn-stage.) Sylvette. Good-day, Papa. Good-day, Father- in-law to-be ! Bergamin. Good-day, daughter-in-law to-be ! Sylvette. My, my, what a bad humor you are in! Bergamin. It's Pasquinot's fault — he — he Sylvette. (Waving her flozvers in Bfrgamin's face) Sh! Please don't quarrel. Of course, I understand, you can't behave quite as old friends, and you like to quarrel a little, in a friendly way Bergamin. Of course, our hatred was so great ! Sylvette. A mortal hatred, too ! When I think .55vhat' you've said about Papa — oh, dear! I used tp sit by the wall and hear every word ! And to think you never once suspected that I came there to meet Percinet Pasquinot. (Ironically) Ah, I- Sylvette. We came every day at the same hour. (To Bergamin) Ha, ha, I can still hear Percinet telling you that he was going to marry — " most romantically " ! And he kept his word ! THE ROMANCERS 43 sieur Vagabond, all this while? Percinet. Nothing very creditable, Sylvette. {He coughs) Sylvette. You are coughing? Percinet. Walking the damp roads at night. Sylvette. What strange clothes you have! Percinet. Mine were stolen, and the thieves left me these. Sylvette. {Ironically) How many fortunes did you find? Percinet. Sylvette, please say nothing about that. Sylvette. You must have scaled many a balcony ? Percinet. {Aside) I nearly broke my neck once! Sylvette. Guitar in hand ! And what nocturnes and serenades you must have sung ! Percinet. Which earned for me more than one bucket of water! Sylvette. But I see you have been wounded in 4a real duel? Percinet. It came near being mortal. Sylvette. And now you return to us — ? Percinet. Thoroughly worn-out. Sylvette. Yes, but you have at least found romance and poetry? Percinet. No — I was seeking afar what was here all the time. Don't make fun of me : I adore you! Sylvette. Even after our disillusion? Percinet. What difference does that make ? Sylvette. But our fathers played an abomin- able trick on us. Percinet. What of it? What I feel in my heart is real. Sylvette. They pretended to hate each other, Percinet. Did we pretend that we loved ? ^4 THE ROMANCERS Sylvette. The wall was a punch-and-judy theater — you said so yourself. Percinet. I did, Sylvette, but it was blasphemy. Ah, wall, you gave us a divine setting, with moon- light and stars, flowers and vines, the four winds for music, and Shakespeare for prompter! Yes, our fathers made us go through the motions, but it was Love that made us speak : it pulled the strings ! Sylvette. (Sighing) That's true, but we loved because we believed it was wicked! Percinet. And it was ! Only the intention counts, and thinking we were guilty, we were! Sylvette. Really ? Percinet. Really, my dear, we were infamous. It was wrong of us to love. Sylvette. (Seating herself beside him) Very wrong? (She changes her tone, as she rises and goes away) Still, I wish the danger had been a little more real. Percinet. It zvas real, because we believed it so. Sylvette. No: my abduction, like your duel, was false. Percinet. Was your fear false? If you were afraid then, it was as if you were really being abducted. Sylvette. No, the dear remembrance is gone. All those masks and torches, the soft music, the duel ; it is too cruel to think that Straf orel prepared it all. Percinet. But who prepared the spring night? Was that Straforel? Did he also sprinkle the sky with stars? Did he plant roses, did he create the gray of evening and the blue mists of night? Did he have anything to do with the rising of that huge pink star? Sylvette. No, of course Percinet. Was it his doing that we were two children of twenty, on a spring night, and that we THE ROMANCERS 45 loved each other ? We loved, that was the charm — all the charm ! Sylvette. All the — ? That's true, yet Percinet. a tear? Am I then — forgiven? Sylvette. I have always loved you, my poor dear. Percinet. At last I have you again ! {He takes Sylvette's scarf and plays zvith it) What beauti- ful shades and lights in this gorgeous satin. Sylvette. What satin? Percinet. Oh, nothing! Nothing! Sylvette. But it's only muslin ! Percinet. (Kneeling and kissing her hand) No, it is everything! Sylvette. (Falling into his arms) -See-? I know now that poetry and romance are in the hearts of lovers; they have nothing to do with othef things. Percinet. That is true, Sylvette. I have seen what ought to be poetry and romance, but it wasn't -to me ! Sylvette. And what was prepared for and ar- ranged beforehand was real, though it was con- trived for us by others. Percinet. We can weave realities on a false frame. Sylvette. How foolish we were to seek else- where for romance, when it was our own hearts ! (Straforel appears, followed by the two fathers, and shows them Sylvette and Percinet in each other's arms.) . vyuty^v^^"^ ^ "- Straforel. Ah! Bergamin. My son! (He embraces Percinet) Straforel. Now do I get my money ? Paquinot. (To his daughter) Do you love him? --jg^^fV^ \)irM>^-'^5^»^ 46 THE ROMANCERS Sylvette. Yes. Straforel. (To Bergamin) Shall I have my money ? Bergamin. You shall. Sylvette. {Tremhlng as she hears Straforel'§ voice and recognises it) But — that — voice — ^the Marquis D'Asta — fior Straforel. {Bowing) — quercita. Yes, my dear Mademoiselle. Tis Straforel. Pardon my ex- cessive zeal. I have at least taught you how tire- some and hollow and useless real adventures are. You might, like this young man, have had your share, but I allow^ed you to see them in prospect through the magic-lantern of my imagination. Percinet. What is this? Sylvette. {Quickly) Nothing, nothing. I love you! Bergamin. {Pointing to the wall) And to- morrow we shall knock down these few rows of bricks ! Pasquinot. Yes, away with it! Straforel. No, let us finish it; it is indis- pensable. Sylvette. {Gathering them all about her) Let us say no more about it! Curtain THE WORLD^S BEST PLAYS BY CELEBRATED EUROPEAN AUTHORS A NEW SERIES OF AMATEUR PLAYS BY THE BEST AUTHORS, ANCIENT AND MODERN, ESPECIALLY TRANSLATED WITH HISTORICAL NOTES, SUG- GESTIONS FOR STAGING, Etc., FOR THE USE OF SCHOOLS, COLLEGES, AND DRAMATIC CLUBS BARRETT H. CLARK General Editor Author of " The Continental Drama of To-day," " Contempo- rary French Dramatists," translator and editor of "Three Modern Plays From the French," "Four Plays of the Free Theater," Hervieu's "The Labyrinth," etc., etc. With the immensely increased demand for new plays for purposes of production by amateurs comes a correspondingly g-reat demand for a careful selection of those plays which «an be easily and well presented by clubs and colleg'es. The plays in the present series have been chosen with reg-ard to their intrinsic value as drama and literature, and at the same time to their adaptability to the needs and limitations of such organizations. The Series, under the personal supervision of Barrett H. Clark, instructor in the Department of Dramatic Litera- ture at Chautauqua, New York, assistant stag-e manager and actor with Mrs. Fiske (season 1912-1913), now comprises forty-five volumes. Eventually there will be plays from ancient Greece and Rome, Spain, France, Russia, Germ.nny, and the Scandinavian countries, representative of the best drama of all ages and lands. Each volume is prefaced by a concise historical note by Mr. Clark, and a few suggestions for staging. PLAYS NOW READY The Romancers. A comedy in three acts. By Edmond Rostand. New translation of this celebrated and charming little romantic play by the famous author of "Cyrano d« Bergerac" and "Chantecler." Price 25 cents. The Merchant Gentleman (Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme). By Moliere. New translation of one of Moliere's comic masterpieces, a play which is well adapted to amateur production. 9 males, 3 females. Price 50 cents. Pater Noater. A poetic play in one act. By Francois Coppee. 3 males, 3 females. A pathetic incident of the time of the Paris Commune, in 1871. Price 25 cents, Indian Summer. A comedy in one act. By Meilhac and Halevy. 2 males, 2 females. 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