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 JAMES WEBB ROGER 
 
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 M. BOYER RICHARDS©N 
 
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 WAR-TIME WIRELESS 
 INVENTOR IS DEAD 
 AT ADVANCED AGE 
 
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 WASHINGTON, Dec. 12— (/P)— 
 J. Harris Rogers. 79, whose inventions 
 in the field of wireless communication 
 were of inestimable benefit to the 
 country during the World War, died 
 today at his home in Hyattsville, Md., 
 near Washington, after a heart at- 
 tack. 
 
 Devices that he perfected enabled 
 the government to carry on uninter- 
 rupted communication with the allied 
 governments in wartime and an un- 
 derwater radio communications meth- 
 od he developed was used by submerg- 
 ed submarines in transmitting mes- 
 sages to battleships, airplanes and 
 shore stations. Using an underground 
 loop aerial ins^ajledjn a well be was. 
 able to listen, in* on German official ' 
 reports of FaTfle s and su bmarine 
 operations. ~ - * 
 
 ' Tii 1919 the general assembly of 
 Maryland gave him a vote of thanks 
 for his service to the country and con- 
 tributions to science during the war. 
 I He received a number of honorary de- 
 ! grees for research work and contribu- 
 | tions to science. He was a native of 
 I Franklin, Tenn, He had never mar- 
 I ried. « 
 
jl "for ^ n r^ TlLe&^u— 
 
 /h^. 
 
 t Sr/i & , 
 
LINCOLN ROOM 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
zADVER TISEMENT 
 
 /0#£SAR wept for Pompey; Great Britain has, in Poet's Corner, 
 " Westminister Abbey, a statue of George Washington. The 
 Walhalla of Bavaria knows no distinction of rival factions. Even 
 Russia permits the monument at Cracow, dedicated to her fallen 
 foes. Santa Croche contains the great men of Italy — her rival 
 factions sleeping side by side. The Madeleine was dedicated by the 
 Revolutionists to the Great Men of France, no matter on which side 
 they fell. Napoleon the Great, while passing his wounded enemies 
 at Austerlitz, lifted his cap and exclaimed: "Honeur au courage 
 Malheur euse!" 
 
 In the same spirit the last of the Confederate bards admits to a 
 niche with Confederate heroes his fallen but illustrious foes — 
 foemen worthy the steel of Lee and Jackson! They believed that 
 sovereignty resided in the Union of States rather than in each State 
 of a Confederation. This was the issue; honesty of purpose, valor 
 and patriotism on either side. Both sealed their faith with blood — 
 "Honeur au courage Malheureuse!!" 
 
 V 
 
 en 
 
James Webb Rogers lawyer, born in Hillsborough, North Caro- 
 lina, 11 July, 1822. He was graduated at Princeton in 1841 and 
 then studied for the ministry. After taking orders in the Protestant 
 Episcopal Church he became pastor of St. Paul's parish in Franklin, 
 Tenn., and while in that State was instrumental in building six 
 churches. He was a partisan of the south at the beginning of the 
 civil war and served in the Confederate army under Gen. Leonidas 
 Polk. Subsequently he went to England, remaining there for some 
 time, and in 1868 he became a Roman Catholic. On his return to 
 the United States he settled first in New York city, afterward in 
 Indianapolis, Ind., where he edited the Central Catholic, and then 
 removed to Washington city, where he studied law. After being 
 admitted to practice he became associated with his son as attorney in 
 the protection and sale of the latter's inventions. His publications 
 include "Laritte, or the Greek Slave" (Boston, 1870) ; "Madame 
 Surratt, a Drama in Five Acts" (Washington, 1879) ; "Arlington 
 and Other Poems" (1883), and "Parthenon" (Baltimore, 1887). 
 
A^b-- 
 
A Drama in Five Acts 
 
 By 
 J. W. ROGERS 
 
 TO THE PUBLIC 
 
 Harmony being now restored and the Union preserved, I have endeavored 
 to present the terrific scenes with which our great Rebellion closed ; and 
 beg leave to suggest that the harsh expressions, put here into the mouths 
 of both Confederate and Federal actors, find no place in my own heart, nor 
 in the hearts, I trust, of any of my countrymen in either section of the Union ; 
 but in writing a drama of the times I found it necessary to make the 
 representatives of either party speak as they formerly felt If my work 
 should live, it will stand as a beacon over a bloody sea, to warn our children, 
 when we who fought upon it shall have passed away. 
 
 J. W. Rogers. 
 
 FOURTH EDITION 
 
 press or 
 JUDD & DETWEILER. Inc. 
 
 WASHINGTON, D. O. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/madamesurrattdraOOilroge 
 
a 
 
 I 
 
 & 
 
 "DEDICATION 
 
 \ * 
 
 HPHE author dedicates this drama to his son, J. Harris Rogers, 
 
 whose scientific discoveries have blessed him with fame and 
 
 § fortune; but, far above these, his whole life demonstrates that filial 
 
 devotion, girl-like' innocence, and simplicity of character are com- 
 > patible with lofty genius, a solid judgment, learning and wit. 
 
 I ask no Midas with his golden art, 
 His muckish name, nor overladen vaults; 
 
 But lofty genius, and a loving heart, 
 
 To smile upon me, and forgive my faults. 
 
 [5] 
 
"DRAMATIS "PERSON AE 
 
 President Lincoln and family. 
 
 President Johnson. 
 
 Madame Surratt. 
 
 Annie Surratt. 
 
 John Surratt. 
 
 Lieutenant Beall. 
 
 Lilly Beall. 
 
 J. Wilkes Booth. 
 
 Edwin Booth. 
 
 I 
 
 Agnes Booth. 
 
 General Mussy. 
 
 Wm. H. Seward. 
 
 Payne. 
 
 Atzerot. 
 
 Herold. 
 
 Dr. Mary Trotter. 
 
 Baker and Conger, Detectives. 
 
 President Davis. 
 
 Robert E. Lee. 
 
 Ghosts, Officers, Soldiers, &c. 
 
 6} 
 
Madame Surratt 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I — Road near Arlington — Sentinel on Guard. 
 
 1st sentinel. 
 
 More numerous than pigeons, when they cloud 
 
 The face of Heaven, by their stormy wings, 
 
 Come ghostly couriers, sweeping over head 
 
 To Arlington ; 
 
 And from the bowels of the Earth 
 
 Gray spirits mount, 
 
 To the same dread spot for conference. 
 
 Perhaps the war is closing, and those counselors, 
 
 Of other generations, taking part, 
 
 May now be agitating terms of peace. 
 
 Last night they flocked about me ; but by Heaven ! 
 
 I would not gaze upon that crowd again — 
 
 My hairs on end, and cold drops flaring over me, 
 
 For all the pomp and glory of the war. 
 
 Their port mysterious, and unsocial eyes, 
 
 The smell of coffins, on their midnight robes, 
 
 And deep sepulchral voices fright my soul. 
 
 Alarmed at footfalls. Enter 2d Sentinel. 
 'Tis but the sentinel to take my watch. 
 Thank God 'twas not that bloodless caravan ! 
 Most welcome, sentinel ; you are just in time — 
 Now, fall asleep as soon as possible. 
 
 2d sentinel. 
 Asleep ? 
 
 1st sentinel. 
 
 Aye, post you to the dusky land of nod, 
 
 Or sights more terrible than dreams will come. 
 
 2d sentinel. 
 
 What of that rumor in the camp — 
 
 That ghosts and goblins fright our soldiers here? 
 
 Say, sentinel, what time do they appear? 
 
 [7] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 1st sentinel. 
 
 Sometimes early; sometimes late they come; 
 But when the mocking-bird, with dulcet note, 
 Sweetens the midnight air, and whip-poor-wills 
 Bewail so piteously, the master's lash, 
 If suddenly they hush, and in a tone 
 Of trepidation, cautious and subdued, 
 Give unlinked harmonies, as in soliloquy, 
 Then look, and on yon Heights of Arlington 
 You'll see whole troops of disembodied spirits. 
 
 2d sentinel. 
 
 To see a ghost hath been my lifelong prayer — 
 
 My nurses told me of them long ago; ha! ha! ha! 
 
 And preachers — ha! ha! ha — they make their living by them. 
 
 But say, soldier, have you really seen such ? 
 
 1st sentinel. 
 
 Last night I saw them — aye, and heard them too — 
 
 Asses can see their provender, and fools, 
 
 Born to be damned — mere brutes, see nothing more; 
 
 But I was born with a caul on my face, 
 
 And, in fact, all lofty souls can see spirits. 
 
 They walk about the world most numerous, 
 
 When nations tremble, or great States dissolve, 
 
 As in Jerusalem, when "they that slept arose" 
 
 And came into the holy city 
 
 And appeared to many;" for those prisoners felt 
 
 The Roman Empire shake, when God was on the Cross. 
 
 There! there they go — your prayer is answered promptly — 
 
 So follow them ; but as for me, 
 
 I'll seek a livelier company. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 2d sentinel. 
 
 To the limit of my watch will I follow them — 
 If spies, to capture, and if ghosts, to prove. 
 O, that I had a silver bullet now! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 [8] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SCENE II. — Arlington Cemetery — Ghosts of Washington and other 
 American heroes — Federal and Confederate Ghosts — of Colum- 
 bus, De Soto and other Discoverers — Pocahontas, Powhatan and 
 other Indian Chiefs — John Brown on side of stage, near the Au- 
 dience — Music, Star-Spangled Banner — Banner, 13 Stars, Waving. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 These direful tidings and this day of blood 
 
 Cry loud to Heaven! and Heaven appoints this conference. 
 
 Let him who rendered in immortal verse 
 
 Our banner — Key, of Maryland — first speak. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Key ! — Key ! ! — a song from Key ! ! ! 
 
 KEY. 
 
 When Freedom, crushed and bleeding on the ground, 
 
 Abandoned every other hope for man, 
 
 To Heaven she cried, and Heaven, in pity, gave 
 
 This new-born world, uprising from the sea. 
 
 Its hills came forth, with kine and cattle crowned, 
 
 And all the valleys teemed with jocund song. 
 
 Like cowled monks, the misty mountains rose 
 
 To Heaven's high altar, lighted by the stars; 
 
 Cecilian thunders leaped along the skies, 
 
 And lightnings darted in the face of kings. 
 
 Great rivers, flashing to the sun, rolled on ; 
 
 And solitude stood listening to their cataracts. 
 
 Beneath the virgin soil were golden yams, 
 
 More luscious than the roots of Ind. or Africa. 
 
 Enormous melons lay upon the ground, 
 
 With nectar filled — a banquet for the Gods! 
 
 Gigantic birds, unknown to other climes, 
 
 With coral neck and beard upon their breasts, 
 
 Of consequential step and curious goblins 
 
 Strutted unconscious of a tyrant's power — 
 
 A mammoth corn with golden ears was there, 
 
 And fruits perennial smiled in every grove. 
 
 Upon ten thousand plains fair flowers bloomed, 
 
 And o'er them, like the billows of the sea, 
 
 Dashed the wild herd of plunging buffalo. 
 
 [9] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 The waves — the waters laughed and winds sang loud, 
 To Freedom weeping on that distant shore — 
 Up from the dust she sprang, on whirlwinds flew, 
 To climb the mountains of her own bright world — 
 Thence gazing on her children, all abroad, 
 And lifting high her standard to the breeze, 
 She spread her stars upon its ample folds, 
 And welcomed all the nations of the Earth. 
 Accursed be he who strikes that banner down ! 
 Thrice cursed her sons who would not lift it up. 
 Let death and leanness enter in their ranks, 
 While Hell gapes wide to take them down ! 
 
 POWHATAN. 
 
 Behold a king — no jewel in his crown, 
 
 But feathers from his own imperial bird. 
 
 Powhatan salutes ye — Minnehaha's Lord, 
 
 And Pocahontas' father — cheated of his child, 
 
 Who pined and perished in a foreign land — 
 
 Behold him standing where his fathers stood — 
 
 Ere yet the canting Christian crushed his heart — 
 
 Burnt down his wigwam, stole his child, 
 
 And murdered Minnehaha in her bed. 
 
 Truth hast thou told for once, thou lying tongue: 
 
 "Upon ten thousand plains, fair flowers bloomed, 
 
 And o'er them, like the billows of the sea, 
 
 Dashed the wild herd of plunging buffalo." 
 
 Those flowers, now drooping with papooses' blood, 
 
 And slain like buffalo, their warlike sires ; 
 
 But chanting still their war songs as they died ; 
 
 They cursed your friendship and your power defied. 
 
 Well hast thou said the waters laughed — 
 
 AM, 3'es, my Minnehaha ; fare thee well ! 
 
 Thou laughing water ; fare thee well ! 
 
 O, my Minnehaha! ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Exit, sobbing. 
 Exeunt Indians. 
 
 JOHN BROWN. 
 
 Now stand rebuked, thou squeaking trump of liberty; 
 
 Harken to me and I will tell thee more. 
 
 The red man and the black man, both are men. 
 
 [10] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Your lofty strain might more become 
 
 Some patriot, taught by Christian charity — 
 
 Some Wilberforce, or Cowper, when he cried: 
 
 "I would not have a slave to till my ground, 
 
 To fan me when I sleep and tremble when I wake, 
 
 For all the wealth of India bought, 
 
 Or sinews ever earned." 
 
 Vile Anthropophagae ! your fathers all 
 
 Traded in human flesh, poor flesh and blood! 
 
 But I was Freedom's first apostle on these shores 
 
 And struck, at Harper's Ferry, for the rights of man. 
 
 KEY. 
 
 To purchase captives and to give them homes, 
 
 Redeeming them from death or pagan rule; 
 
 Was ever merciful ; but he who first 
 
 Enslaved the free-born soul must bear the mark of Cain. 
 
 PATRICK HENRY. 
 
 The captive once enthralled, no Christian law 
 Forbade his change of masters, nay, sweet mercy 
 Throughout all time compelled her favored sons 
 To buy the captive from a cruel lord — 
 From Jew or Vandal, Turk or Infidel — 
 And use his service for the ransom paid. 
 'Twas thus our Washington his fuglemen 
 Restrained with firm but gentle hand. 
 Lo, Washington my witness ! for he soothed 
 With lighter chain the captive driven to his door. 
 Aye, by your fathers, driven to Arlington, 
 Chilblains upon their feet and fetters on their hands, 
 But like those hemorrhoids, once on Israel sent, 
 The Mains and fetters now return to you. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 Charles Carroll, speak. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Hear! hear !— Charles Carroll, of Carrollton — hear! hear! 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 CARROLL. 
 
 When Freedom first upon these shores unfurled 
 
 The banner of the cross, all earth rejoiced. 
 
 But lo, a cloud uprising from the sea — 
 
 At first no bigger than a prophet's hand, 
 
 Yet destined soon to burst upon mankind! 
 
 England's armadas, staggering on the deep, 
 
 Drag Africa in chains across the wave : 
 
 And Freedom shrieks — commingling her sad tears 
 
 With thine, O Cleopatra, falling fast 
 
 On Plymouth rock, and freezing as they fall ; 
 
 For there the slaver, packed with dusky forms, 
 
 First vomited its curse and slavery on these shores ; 
 
 The Mayflower bore them, and her pilgrims sang 
 
 Loud songs to Liberty, imploring Heaven 
 
 To lull the storm and land each cargo safe. 
 
 And when the cable rustled on the shore, 
 
 The captives' freedom lost forevermore, 
 
 Those glorious Pilgrim Saints, all English born, 
 
 Rolled their white eyes to Heaven and twanged each nasal horn, 
 
 Returning thanks, that God had given to that shore 
 
 To be baptized, the poor, benighted blackamore. 
 
 New England's avarice and her prayerful sons 
 
 Transfer the prisoner to Southern clime, 
 
 And take Virginia's gold, their price for blood. 
 
 But all may yet be well ; for Heaven is watchful, 
 
 Though her children weep — sweet mercy pleads 
 
 Before the King of Kings — Pope Urbin, too, 
 
 And Benedict, on every slaver's mast — 
 
 Aye! though a King should charter it, 
 
 Have launched the dreadful curse of Rome. 
 
 The prisoner transferred to Southern clime 
 
 May yet be free : for mutual jealousies 
 
 Of North and South may break his chain. 
 
 Their rival interests and the shock of arms — 
 
 But not their charity, can shatter it; 
 
 For one his service — one his vote — demands — 
 
 But see, on yonder heights of Arlington — 
 
 One eagle holds a trembling bird — 
 
 Another eagle, crouching for the prey, 
 
 Rushes to combat — lo ! they fight and die ; 
 
 [12] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 But see ! the bird hath mounted to the sky. 
 
 Then lift thy standards, Freedom, and thy cross display. 
 
 Peal all thy thunders, let thy cannon peal, 
 
 For every chain is shattered, and the bondman free. 
 
 Music, Hail Columbia. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 The storm is passing, and the Union saved ; 
 The Blue and Gray shall mingle, side by side ; 
 One Union banner waving over all, 
 With glory's sentinel to guard our graves 
 And keep his watch, till time shall be no more. 
 
 Enter seceded States, dressed in mourning, each with a star on her 
 forehead and a cross in her hand. 
 
 1st state. 
 
 As deputy for these fair States, I come 
 To ask a place upon that glorious banner. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Father of our country, hail ! admits us there. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 Then lift each cross to Heaven, and swear 
 To guard that banner till the day of doom. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 We swear! we swear! 
 Amen! Amen! 
 
 Music, Star-Spangled Banner 
 
 KEY. 
 
 That cross so glorious on the battle field, 
 Hath tenfold glory now in sorrow's hand ; 
 Go plant it, then, above your glorious dead ; 
 And leave it there, O leave it on those graves 
 That heave along like ocean's troubled waves. 
 Protect it there 'gainst each invader's hand, 
 For they are all cradled in their native land. 
 Perhaps mistaken in their fiery zeal ; 
 But all Americans, true as their steel ; 
 
 [13] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Perchance too zealous for a doubtful right, 
 
 But martyrs to their faith, they fell in fight : 
 
 Then twine the wreath and let your crosses tell 
 
 To coming time where fruitless valor fell. 
 
 Where sleep the brave, who left upon the cliffs of time 
 
 Their names immortal and their deeds sublime. 
 
 A moment's anger, like the tempest's wrath, 
 
 Swept in its fury o'er our country's path. 
 
 But there she stands, triumphant o'er the storm, 
 
 Our Stars and Stripes around her glorious form. 
 
 Her sword still red, but lifted high to Heaven, 
 
 Proclaims the tempest past, the past forgiven: 
 
 Alas! she weeps, 'tis now her sacred trust 
 
 To watch each warrior's grave and guard his dust — 
 
 To guard the glory of each soldier's name 
 
 And consecrate it to his Country's fame. 
 
 No foreign flag shall wave above her dead, 
 
 Nor tyrant foot, nor timid slave shall tread 
 
 Where Canby fought or Stonewall Jackson bled. 
 
 But glory's banner, to their fathers dear, 
 
 Shall catch from every wounded heart a tear 
 
 And shine, a rainbow, bright as when it spanned 
 
 The first wild storm that swept our native land. 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 Yon morning star, our captain in the sky, 
 Commands us to retire to our tents. 
 
 GENERAL MORGAN. 
 
 Stay, stay, regardless of the morning star. 
 Your loving harmonies are beautiful indeed, 
 Then hie ye to your green, well-tended graves, 
 While we return to brushwood and to rocks 
 Where vultures tore our flesh and left our bones; 
 Where weeping mothers seek for us in vain, 
 And toil as slaves to keep a little life 
 Still in our baby brothers, telling them the tale — 
 And when our fortunes stolen shall be returned, 
 And when magnanimous as ye pretend, 
 The nation gives us graves and hands to tend them ; 
 Aye, then ; but not till then, our dust can mingle. 
 
 [14] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 JOHN BROWN. 
 
 You lie! your fortunes were not stolen — we took 
 
 In spoils of war the gold which ye had coined 
 
 From human blood — 'Twas I that led the van ; 
 
 At Harper's Ferry first I struck for liberty. 
 
 When your unequal laws, accursed and hellish, 
 
 Did hang me like a dog till dead, dead, dead ! 
 
 Then all the North was caught into a blaze, 
 
 For I was there — (ha! ha! ha!) John Brown was marching on, 
 
 Your moderate men, as Jackson — ours too — 
 
 Such snivelers as Ellsworth I detest, 
 
 And Lincoln also, a soft-hearted fool, 
 
 Favors the rebels whom a man of grit 
 
 Had hung and shot as fast as they were cought. 
 
 I'd burn the serpents — men and women, too, 
 
 And send them writhing down to hell 
 
 For trading in human flesh and turning men to beasts. 
 
 God gave no property to man ; but force 
 
 First seized it, trampling down the weak, 
 
 And weakness yielded to the brave and powerful. 
 
 So strength prevailed and property arose ; 
 
 But they who sing "John Brown is marching on" 
 
 Will one day raze yon cities from their base — 
 
 God speed the day and hell light up their torches! 
 
 New York, Chicago, Pittsburgh, and St. Louis, all 
 
 Shall have their guillotines to make France tremble — 
 
 For her little spirit of blood was as nothing to that glorious sea. 
 
 Give me the men who carry fire and sword, 
 
 Give me a Morton, Sherman or a Wade, 
 
 To sweep with besoms of destruction — 
 
 Then go, ye rebels, to the rocks again ; 
 
 Ye have no country and deserve no graves! 
 
 GENERAL MORGAN. 
 
 What though we have no country — our fathers, 
 Led up by Washington, defended yours, 
 And struck the British lion at your door : 
 What tho' their sons should have no graves— 
 "On fame's eternal camping ground 
 
 [15] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Our silent tents are spread, 
 
 And Glory guards with solemn round 
 
 The bivouac of our dead." 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 This war of words avails us not ; 
 
 The Conference is ended — let us Hence. 
 
 JOHN BROWN. 
 
 Go to, ye snivellers, for I alone 
 
 Rushed single handed on the Devil's own ; 
 
 And have a right to walk by day, while you 
 
 Are frightened by a little morning dew — 
 
 A cock can scare ye, but yon morning star 
 
 Was my companion at the gate of war — 
 
 At Harper's Ferry, o'er the gulches wide, 
 
 It led my army to the other side, 
 
 Clambering o'er rocks by cyclops flung 
 
 In some great battle when the world was young. 
 
 It saw me strike — Aye ! sees me striking still 
 
 Giving to other men my stubborn will. 
 
 BOOTH passes and exit. 
 
 There! there! Wilkes Booth! now for a little sport. 
 
 I'll make the crater of his soul my fort, 
 
 And Freedom's banner, from its heights unfurled, 
 
 Shall lead a host of Devils through the world ; 
 
 For lofty souls, by hellish impulse driven, 
 
 Are Hell's best arsenals, when touching Heaven ; 
 
 And his, though dipped in Heaven's ethereal blue, 
 
 Hath craters vast, for Hell to thunder through ; 
 
 Then let me seize its heights, and hold the while, 
 
 Gazing on all beneath with lurid smile ; 
 
 Then from its pinnacles all stained with blood, 
 
 I'll leap into the raging multitude; 
 
 And give to working men a higher law, 
 
 To hold the world and capital in awe. 
 
 Till the Freemen of the North, 
 
 Whose children feed on broth, 
 
 Light up the avenging fire, 
 
 [16] 
 
 Exit. 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Leaping from spire to spire — 
 
 My spirit soaring higher; 
 
 Till toiling millions find their shackles gone, 
 
 And shout to Heaven, "John Brown is marching on." 
 
 Enter Booth, and exit. 
 
 See ! see ! he comes again, but paler far 
 
 That when I met him at the gate of war ; 
 
 For then a volunteer — most valiant man ! 
 
 He joined Virginia's troops to meet my clan — 
 
 At Charleston guarded me and saw me die. 
 
 But time avenges every villainy — 
 
 What though he live, I have a grudge to take, 
 
 Which all the villain's blood can never slake; 
 
 Then let me drive him on in crime, till men 
 
 Pursue him, like the tiger to his den — 
 
 Start at his name, instinctively turning round, 
 
 To find a hissing serpent in its sound. 
 
 Mothers all trembling — clasping in their arms 
 
 Scared infants as his passing shade alarms ; 
 
 While wrinkled hags, by wolves and witches nursed, 
 
 Cover their faces at his name accursed. 
 
 Rise, rise, ye mantles of the dead, and tear 
 
 The womb of time, that I may see him struggling there. 
 
 See ! see ! he strikes at yonder towering heads 
 
 Whose murdered millions lie in gory beds, 
 
 And now prophetic demons, in their rage, 
 
 Ride on the storm — now stoop to yonder stage. 
 
 And now a prophet's mantle on the air 
 
 Shakes pestilence and death — my hangman there 
 
 Strikes Lincoln down ; and yonder shooting star 
 
 Reveals the last dread tragedy of war! 
 
 See ! see ! the villain comes ; but knows it not 
 
 That I have marked the very hour and spot — 
 
 Then rise, ye curtains of the night, and show 
 
 The violets withering where his foot-prints glow ; 
 
 Ye Devils rise and plunge into his soul, 
 
 Till the whole world shall shake from pole to pole — 
 
 But when the deed is done and darkness shrouds the sun, 
 
 And Lincoln lies upon his bier, 
 
 Pursue the blood-stained murderer, 
 
 [17] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Still whispering in his ear, 
 
 John Brown is marching on — is here! 
 
 And when in fire and flame the villain dies, 
 
 Let thunder peals proclaim it through the skies! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Enter J. Wilkes Booth. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Hyperion, like a chariot all on fire, 
 
 Rides up among the stars, and gray cold morning, 
 
 Opes once more her eyes on yonder Capitol — 
 
 Once more Virginia shakes her clanking chains 
 
 And lifts them up imploringly to Arlington — 
 
 Nest of her eagles ! once so dear to thee ! 
 
 O Liberty! thy cradle and thy tomb! 
 
 O glorious Arlington ! home of a hero ! 
 
 Thy festive arches, loath to let them die, 
 
 Repeated oft the words of Washington, 
 
 While Madison, Monroe and Jefferson 
 
 Held high discourse on forms of human right ; 
 
 Or bent the bow, when strung too long, 
 
 To ladies fair, in many a social hour ! 
 
 Here oft, alas ! my own exulting voice 
 
 Rang out in childhood's unsuspecting glee — 
 
 And other voices calling me to play, 
 
 Now silent in their stiff and gory gray. 
 
 Ah! yes; the stage is sad, when those we played with 
 
 Have all gone to rest! Then hear my vow, 
 
 Ye murdered and neglected ones, whose bones 
 
 Lie bleaching on the hillsides where we played: 
 
 Not unavenged, your ghosts shall walk this scene — 
 
 Envious of the foemen, sleeping in your beds, 
 
 And proud to stick their blue plebeian noses, 
 
 Even in death, beneath the kerchief of a Custis — 
 
 To have it said that they were lodged at Arlington ! 
 
 Ye, our Fathers — Sons of the South, look down ! 
 
 And thou, Virginia — mother of Statesmen — 
 
 Wake with the morning ; but awake to weep 
 
 For your fair bosom, once bedecked wi' flowers, 
 
 All brooched and jeweled o'er with golden corn, 
 
 [18] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Heaves only now with graves — a nation's sepulchre ! 
 
 And thou, my Maryland, dear to this heart, 
 
 Look down from yonder hills and judge me kindly, 
 
 Like some poor mother, half demented, thou 
 
 Dost rock the cradle of thy buried children, 
 
 Still muttering thine own immortal poet's song, 
 
 Though half the stars have fallen from his banner — 
 
 I cannot sing that song, but I can perish, 
 
 And wrestling — clutching yon strong columns, 
 
 I will drag them down, and Dagon's host 
 
 Shall perish with me! 
 
 Hark! hark! the reveille of yonder camp! 
 
 Its rumbling cannon, presage of a storm ; 
 
 Surcharged with thunder, and the bolts of death, 
 
 Those clattering horses, and war-bearing messengers ; 
 
 Like vultures balanced on the dusky cloud ; 
 
 That merry marching, measured to the fife, 
 
 The drum and trumpet — shouts, and neighing steeds, 
 
 Proclaim new levies and a countless host, 
 
 To batten on the South, already sunk so low — 
 
 Nothing but Intervention now can save us — 
 
 What if mad havoc, riding on the air, 
 
 Should pluck the tallest tassels of the field ; 
 
 What if a President and his whole Cabinet 
 
 Were taken up to Heaven? — Confusion dire 
 
 All order would confound, till France and England 
 
 Recognized the South, and left her children free ! 
 
 Down busy thoughts ! but when I play to-night, 
 
 Richard the Third shall live within my soul, 
 
 And from the furnace of his blasted spirit 
 
 I will snatch a firebrand to light the world — 
 
 Will tear this darkness from my native sky 
 
 And set the Southern Cross in glory there. v -. 
 
 SCENE III — Same — Road near Arlington — Enter Captain Thorn- 
 ton Powell — Cloak over Gray uniform, supporting Lilly Beall 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Come, come, be brave ; the worst is over now ; 
 Yon sail awaits us, and the wind blows fair — 
 See ! see ! the topmast ! how its streamers wave 
 
 [19] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 And point us to the Capitol. The guards 
 
 Can thus be flanked, and your brave brother saved — 
 
 Once in the city, we can aid him — 
 
 Madame Surratt to espouse his cause, 
 
 And Booth to plead it with the President — 
 
 Come, come, once more be brave ; be brave and win, 
 
 For never yet could prison bar nor rib of steel 
 
 Withstand the pleadings of an angel's tongue! 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Alas! my poor brother! — now in chains! 
 I feel that he can never be exchanged. 
 You wiser men may little understand it, 
 But woman's heart is all a prophecy, 
 And what we know — is only what we feel — 
 Ah, no, we are too powerless to save him. 
 
 Sinks by the road. 
 
 so weary ! frighted all night long, 
 
 And trembling more for you than for myself, 
 My woman's heart grows faint and dies within me. 
 Thrice have you slain the guards, and thrice these hands, 
 Staunching their wounds, took up the dreadful tale. 
 
 Lifts up her hands red with blood. 
 
 1 cannot wash it off, lest to your soul 
 
 The damning spot should fly — for we are one — 
 
 At least were one, till, with an angry grasp, 
 
 Unlike your own, you tore me from those offices, 
 
 By pity, prompted for a dying foe. 
 
 But now we part, for life is ebbing fast, 
 
 And life without you were worse than death. 
 
 But take this rosary, press it to your heart, 
 
 And when the flowers of spring shall bloom once more 
 
 To hide these bloody hands from Heaven, and offer 
 
 Sacrifices for our sins : O then remember me ! 
 
 Go back to camp ; you cannot pass yon guard ; 
 
 Go, Thornton, fight the battles of the South, 
 
 And leave me here to die ! Farewell ! farewell ! 
 
 Yet swear, before our parting — swear once more, 
 
 To love me Thornton, and to keep me in your heart. 
 
 Taking rosary and twining it on his wrist. 
 [20] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 We'll have no parting yet ; but let me swear, 
 
 And on a soldier's sword (draws) and by the stars, 
 
 Dumb witnesses, whose soft and dewy eyes 
 
 Have looked through Southern bowers on our love 
 
 And by yon mocking-bird, rehearsing it 
 
 To roses, bent upon their tearful boughs; 
 
 And by the moon, whose silvery bow in Heaven 
 
 Was snatched by Cupid when he made us one — 
 
 One heart — one soul — one life, and one Eternity! 
 
 I swear to love thee; and to save thy brother! 
 
 Lilly — Rising. 
 
 Those words, like nectar poured into my soul, 
 
 Supply new strength — now I can go, 
 
 For gentle words to woman's heart are more 
 
 Than all the pomp and glory of the world ! 
 
 Lead on ! and I will follow thee, 
 
 Though tempests rave and torrents sweep our path! 
 
 POWELL, kissing her'. 
 
 Remember, love, our new-born names — 
 
 Yours Lilly Boyd— mine Payne — remember, Payne! 
 
 For Beall and Powell would betray our colors. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 Voice behind the scenes. 
 
 1st sentinel. 
 
 Halt! halt! 
 
 Sentinel fires — Clash of arms — They fight back to the stage and 
 around it — Sentinel falls 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 O that the wrongs and ruins of the South 
 
 Were centered in this arm — its thunderbolt 
 
 That struck thee down, should strike the North as well, 
 
 And quench, with blood, the very fires of Hell ! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 [211 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SCENE IV. — Richmond — Before the President's Mansion — Enter 
 soldiers, and citizens serenading. 
 
 1st citizen. 
 That's Jeff. Davis' house. Come, let's give him Dixie. 
 
 2d citizen. 
 Let's call him out and have a speech first. 
 
 3d citizen. 
 No, no; Dixie first and then the speech. 
 
 4th citizen. 
 
 We want no Dixie now — first for the speech — 
 And if he brings good news from Lee or Longstreet, 
 Then we'll have Dixie; but they say that Petersburg 
 Has fallen — first make him tell the news — 
 And then if good, wind up with Dixie — 
 But if the news be bad, we'll shake him for it. 
 Damned if I don't lead the crowd to make him squeal. 
 
 officer. 
 
 Peace! Peace! vile braggart! you carpet bag! 
 
 You d — d tobacco speculator — fool! 
 
 You wore a cockade; but never fired a gun. 
 
 And your vile crowd have brought us to this pass. 
 
 Dare you to criticise and underrate 
 
 The foremost man of all his time? 
 
 Why, Yankeedom and the whole South once vied 
 
 To stamp him current for the bank of fame ! 
 
 And you to flip and ring his metal — bah ! 
 
 Were you in Mexico? at Monterey? 
 
 At Buena Vista? Where did you enlist? 
 
 Our forlorn hope he led at Monterey. 
 
 I saw him mounting Fort Diabolo, 
 
 Throttling the cannon — daring death — 
 
 Our starry banner waving in his hand 
 
 Like winged seraphim defying war ! 
 
 Begrimed with powder and besmeared with blood, 
 
 He bore it upward — onward — Monterey was won! 
 
 "And there he stood, an eagle in the sun." 
 
 [22] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 At Buena Vista next our cause seemed lost — 
 
 Taylor and Bragg were yielding to the storm : 
 
 When, fresh as condors from the mountain heights, 
 
 Rushed down ten thousand lancers on our left. 
 
 There stood Jeff. Davis — Mississippi's sons 
 
 His hope of victory — lo ! they seem to fly. 
 
 His center first retiring, till it formed 
 
 Into an open V; but while each branch 
 
 Of that dread letter on the field of blood, 
 
 Seemed to retreat ; and thus drew in the foe, 
 
 As flies into the yawning crocodile ; 
 
 He halted suddenly, and faced about; 
 
 His Mississippi rifles blazed along each line; 
 
 And like a bosky hill, bathed in the sun, 
 
 Or mound mysterious, rising in those wilds — 
 
 Or rather like a hill of blasted pines, 
 
 Those Lancers — and their shattered lances lay — 
 
 Jeff. Davis master of the field ; 
 
 And glittering on the heights of fame ! 
 
 Wild with delight, a glorious nation then 
 
 Her preferments and honors proffered him; 
 
 Her power supreme to hold the helm of war, 
 
 She gave into his hands her record — his! 
 
 Then Senator, he scorned and held at bay, 
 
 Like a great mountain, standing in the sea, 
 
 The raging billows of fanatic strife — 
 
 'Til warning them in vain, his hope had fled ; 
 
 And now, tho' battling 'gainst the world in arms, 
 
 He leads the land of Washington to war. 
 
 For four long years, undaunted and sublime, 
 
 He stands — the brightest mark upon the cliffs of Time! 
 
 Soldiers — Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! 
 Davis! Davis! Davis! Huzza! Huzza! Huzza ! 
 Enter Davis on Balcony. 
 
 Fellow Citizens: — It always gives me pleasure to meet you, for 
 I know your devotion to the cause of liberty and to the sovereignty 
 of States. 
 
 Greece in her palmiest day was a great Confederate government — 
 as such, she fought at Thermopylae, Plataea and Salamis: nor ever 
 yielded to domestic or foreign tryants, until her sovereign States 
 succumbed to Federal power. You, fellow soldiers and fellow 
 
 [23] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 citizens, are fighting for States' rights and for State sovereignty, 
 guarded by Constitutional authority. You are fighting against 
 Federal power, a mere creature and servant of the States. Your 
 cause is just, and millions of brave men throughout the North, now 
 shackled by the grip of war, are with you. They hold as you do, 
 that no aggregation of States — no vast mob of many nations — no 
 raging commune should dictate to a free-born people and enslave 
 their sons. What though we fail in battle, these brave men, in- 
 spired by your example, will yet sustain the cause for which your 
 sons are bleeding. Remember the real issue — slavery was only an 
 exciting element, trumped up by cunning demagogues to lead the 
 mob. They know full well that our slaves are by far the happiest 
 peasantry on earth — better in their condition now than when driven 
 by Yankee masters from whom our fathers purchased them; and 
 this the negroes understand; they also understand that their condi- 
 tion is infinitely better than that of many white slaves of the North, 
 some of whose masters so cruelly oppress them. Then let U9 keep 
 to the issue — the sovereignty of States — and should our last army 
 go down in battle, our cause will still survive. The whole world, 
 now combined against us, may conquer on the field. But the brave 
 and true men of the North, threatened by a raging commune, will 
 clamor for Constitutional safeguards, and be compelled to call our 
 sons in peaceful armor — or, if need be, with the sword — perhaps 
 ourselves — to fight for Constitutional liberty and for the rights 
 of man. 
 
 Fellow citizens and fellow soldiers, I bid you good night. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Huzza! Huzza! Huzza! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 [24] 
 
ACT II. 
 
 SCENE 1. — President's Mansion — Lincoln reading MSS — Music — 
 John Brown in the distance. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 We want no commune here — want no secession either — 
 No John Brown marching on, nor squealing Dixie; 
 Except it be to play them for a little sport — 
 Key was a Southern man and born in Maryland, 
 And his "Star-Spangled Banner" will be played 
 With Hail Columbia till the day of doom. 
 For golden songs descending to a nation 
 Make through all time her best inheritance; 
 And the recreant wretch who could relinquish them, 
 So dear to his fathers, whether North or South, 
 And in a corner, like a cricket, chant, 
 "John Brown is marching on," or "Dixie" — 
 
 I have no patience with such men ! 
 
 So when the commune bawl or Southern fool 
 Sticks a cockade upon his fiery breast, 
 
 1 know the fitful storm must pass away ; 
 Impartial men on either side will lead 
 The people and return ere long to Union. 
 So let the fools rip, a day is near at hand 
 When reason can be seated on her throne, 
 And this great Union, snatched from ruin, 
 Our Stars and Stripes shall float along the sky 
 Wherever the sun shines or waters roll ! 
 Secession is a thing most foul and pitiable, 
 
 A kind of cross-eyed, ill contrived, abortive 
 Ben Butler in another form; but uglier — 
 A blot upon the North as well as the South — 
 A rope of sand disintegrated from the start — 
 The laughing stock and jest of all mankind ! 
 Never were sane men so thoroughly misled 
 As they who clamor for secession — 
 Whether in Massachusetts or in Carolina, 
 For Massachusetts first conceived the monster, 
 And her grim legislature gave it birth. 
 
 [25] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Jeff. Davis took it to his arms and now 
 The whole world trembles in its presence. 
 'Tis but the commune in another form — 
 States riding on the storms of human passion — 
 Poor John Brown marching on, and nothing else. 
 
 Enter a messenger, bearing dispatches. Lincoln reads them. 
 Well, the Rebellion drags along, and though 
 Its back be broken, still its fiery fangs 
 Are dangerous as ever and its rattling tail 
 Forewarns that they may "fight to the last ditch" ; 
 And fight they will if driven to despair — 
 If we insist on blotting out their States 
 And turning them to provinces — if soldiers 
 Must be kept to garrison their homes; 
 And men like Butler give those soldiers leave 
 For fancied insults or a scornful look 
 To make their daughters women of the town, 
 By heavens! they'll fight it out, and I would, too. 
 Now, some would burn and crucify the South — 
 Beechers and Brownlows and a host of saints. 
 All preaching love to cut Confederate throats. 
 But I myself was born in old Kentucky 
 And have a soft place in my heart for her. 
 My dear old mother sleeps among her hills, 
 My father, too, all sleep in Old Virginia, 
 And her greatest statesmen have been my friends, 
 But "by the eternal Gods'' as Jackson said, 
 "I'd hang them high as Haman to preserve this Union." 
 Yet could we make an honorable peace, 
 The South should have protection and return 
 To join us in a great, regenerated country. 
 Freedom to all, inscribed upon our banner, 
 And in our hearts "forgiveness for the past." 
 "Malice to none; but charity for all." 
 And when this tempest shall have passed away, 
 The mystic chords of memory stretched, 
 From every soldier's grave to every heart 
 In this great land shall swell the pean of our victory! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 [26] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SCENE II — President's grounds — Enter Dr. Mary Trotter in male 
 attire — Beecher meeting her. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 O Mr. Beecher! Mr. Beecher, how fortunate to 
 
 Meet you here. Come, now, introduce me to the President. 
 
 BEECHER. 
 
 Certainly — He'll be here in a moment — 
 Doctor, you are looking remarkably well — 
 See, there he comes! 
 
 Lincoln approaches. 
 
 BEECHER. 
 
 Allow me to present you, Mr. President, 
 Our great surgeon, Dr. Mary Trotter. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Indeed! I'm glad to meet you, Dr. Mary. 
 So Doctor, you cut soldiers' legs off, Eh? Ha! ha! ha! 
 But don't you feel queer when you cut a man? Ha! ha! ha! 
 Take care, Doctor, that you don't get your own leg broke. 
 For then you'll have to send for Beecher. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 No need of sending, he'll be sure to come, 
 Like a good pastor — loving all his lambs! 
 But, Mr. President, I came from Ford's, 
 To ask your Cabinet to Booth's great play. 
 Here are the invitations — ten in number. 
 
 Giving them. 
 
 he's an angel, sir — almost a God — 
 
 And all the women of the town are crazy for him. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 1 hope you are not a woman of the town. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 O yes I am, but hold to woman's rights. 
 [27] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Take care that you don't hold to something else, 
 
 For Booth would make you change your politics, 
 
 And if you married him — one thing I know, 
 
 He'd have them breeches off and make you wear a frock. 
 
 Good bye! Good bye! Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 No, sir; I'll wear them to the bitter end. 
 
 Exit. 
 Lincoln — Laughing. 
 
 Beecher, which is her bitter end ? 
 
 BEECHER. 
 
 Perhaps, your excellence, she means her latter end, 
 
 A most important thing ; for all must die — 
 
 The cares of State, the coronet and crown — 
 
 Upheavings of a mighty land like this 
 
 And of our little bosoms — all must sink 
 
 To rest and be forgotten in the grave. 
 
 Then "the true inwardness" must all come out. 
 
 To me, to you — and all of us, that day 
 
 Approaches like a thief— "nest hiding" them — 
 
 Our loves and hates and all our little schemes 
 
 Will leave us "on the ragged edge" of time — 
 
 Each in his narrow bed and married to the worm! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III — Booth's room in Washington — Portraits on the wall 
 of the Booths, Beall, and Lilly. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Richard was a villain "of the whole cloth" ; 
 
 And sweet relenting Nature never touched 
 
 A single chord in his abandoned bosom. 
 
 He slew alike the innocent and guilty 
 
 To make their trunks his stepping-stones to power; 
 
 This I was never formed for, but by Heaven, 
 
 As Curtius leaped into a gulf, so I, 
 
 To save my native land, would plunge 
 
 [28] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Into the seething cauldron of a nation's wrath — 
 
 Nor Heaven, nor earth, nor hell could pluck me thence ; 
 
 But ere one leaps into a gulf, perhaps 
 
 'Twere well to write some record on the cliff, 
 
 That they who come hereafter may divine 
 
 What hopes he built upon and why he fell. 
 
 Writes letter to Clark and leaves it on table. 
 Yes, in the fiery tempest that must rise 
 Naught less than miracles could save me ; 
 Lascivious Fortune then, to Judas turned, 
 May crack upon my cheeks; but I will hurl 
 Her kisses back to meet their swords and staves, 
 And fall, at last, if fall I must, 
 Like Brutus — not sustained by Senators — 
 No! not like Brutus, with an host of friends, 
 Creeping behind the kisses of a Casca, no! 
 But, like Niagara, all alone in power, 
 One patriot soul shall leap upon the gulf 
 And leave eternal rainbows where it plunged! 
 Not sixty Senators to vanquish Caesar, 
 But one strong arm to prop a falling cause — 
 Like Brutus striking for the rights of man, 
 Perhaps like Brutus, on the plains of Philippi, 
 Weltering in blood, despairing and abandoned, 
 Traduced and scorned and hated for the time 
 That Caesar's armies parcelled out the world ; 
 Yet living on and honored by mankind ; 
 So be't ; and when the world forgets a Brutus, 
 Then, but not till then, my fame shall die; 
 For I will live when yonder dome shall piecemeal fall, 
 When yonder trumpets to the judgment call 
 And ruin writes the epitaph of all! 
 
 Enter Thornton Powell. 
 
 Why, Thornton Powell! Heavens! how came you here? 
 How pass their lines? What news, my boy? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 How pass their lines ? I have a ready tongue, 
 
 Whose thirsty edge {drawing bloody sword), lapping theblood of dogs 
 
 For three contentious nights, can answer you. 
 
 [29] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Challenged at every turn, pursued, hemmed in, 
 And fighting inch by inch, this, my best friend, 
 Procured our passage hither! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 What from our army ? What news, my boy ? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 My gray-haired sire — God ! can it be true ? 
 Pursuit being vain, they sought my father's house 
 And slew him, helpless, pleading for his life. 
 My sisters then, to save themselves from shame, 
 Lucretia's guiltness dagger seized and died. 
 I saw it not, yet see it standing there. 
 Yon blazing roof, the tears and blood that fell 
 Freeze me with horror while the tale I tell. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Horrible! most horrible! Oh, it was 
 A dark and damned, most infernal deed ; 
 Yet they who perish now are Fortune's favorites, 
 Nursed in a quiet cell, protected, safe, 
 And mingling with the dust for which they died. 
 Unused to fawning, your Virginia blood 
 Could never* crawl and creep as things do here. 
 Better to die and bid the world farewell, 
 To stride the withers of some windy blast, 
 And ride through lightnings to the gate of Heaven, 
 \Jhan lick a master's hand for place and power. 
 O I do hate the creeping things called men, 
 And most those Southern men who skulk and cringe. 
 The smell of mules and negroes they delight in; 
 But powder scares them and the villains crawl. 
 Take comfort, then — cheer up — 'twill all be well. 
 What from our army ? What from Lee ? 
 What of the truce at City Point ? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 All overtures for peace have been rejected, 
 And our bleeding army, stung to their wounds 
 By base conditions offered, flew to arms. 
 
 [30] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 I fear that all is over ; our base is cut, 
 
 And Sheridan goes raiding in the rear; 
 
 Lee struggles like a storm-tossed vessel stranded, 
 
 When every billow sweeps her groaning deck ; 
 
 God only knows how long he'll weather it! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Then shall we have another act to play! 
 
 Rome's Campus Martius, with her three conspirators, 
 
 Shall take the stage in Washington. What think you ? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 You speak in parables. Speak out, 
 
 For I was always blunt — perhaps too frank. 
 
 Speak out and show the bottom of your mind. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Richard the Third is on the boards tonight, 
 And you shall learn the lesson while I play. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Impossible, for I return tonight. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Whither? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 To my command. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Then wherefore did you come ? 
 
 POWELL {pointing to Lilly's picture). 
 To escort that lady. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 What! Lilly Beall? And is she here? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 At Madame Surratt's, but we have changed our names. 
 Remember to call her Lilly Boyd. As for me, 
 My name is Payne. Be sure to get it right, 
 For should the bloodhounds scent my track 
 They'd hang me for a spy. 
 
 [31] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 A halter would then take the place of Lilly's arms. 
 
 that I, too, could have so fair a gibbet ! 
 For one less beautiful might soon be mine ! 
 
 Say, why this risk and wherefore did she come? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 Of course, you know her brother has been captured ? 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Lieutenant Beall? No, not a word; come, tell it me. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 Captured, beyond all doubt, and t' escort his sister 
 
 1 come on furlough, but return tonight, 
 And you should see her to New York, 
 Where she expects to find him. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 By Heaven! he's dearer to this love-lack heart 
 Than all my kindred — brothers, sisters — all, 
 Except my mother and my murdered friends. 
 Captured, you tell me? Where and when? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 Some telegrams we sent will soon be answered, 
 And you shall know tonight what prison holds him. 
 My time is short. Take Lilly to your charge ; 
 I have a long and dangerous road before me. 
 
 Going, shakes hands. Good night. 
 
 Booth — Holding Powell confidingly. 
 
 Stay! stay! 
 
 When you return to camp remember this, 
 
 And should it happen, say "Booth told you so" — 
 
 Mark well my words and pin them to your heart. 
 
 Defeats are sometimes turned to victory; 
 
 A single arm can sometimes turn the tide of war. 
 
 Now, I am hatching up a brand-new play ; 
 
 Be ready for your part ; take Brutus if you like. 
 
 [32] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 O that a Brutus could be molded now, 
 And, leaping from the fiery furnace of this war, 
 Bring curses down upon his towering head 
 From hypocrites and villains to the end of time! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Say, Powell, did you know that Brutus was a coward ? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 "He was the noblest Roman of them all." 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Aye, but his gizzard was so thin of grit 
 That Cassius was required to grind its purpose, 
 Else had its blunted edge proved most abortive. 
 And, to speak truly, mine needs whetting, too ; 
 But you could grind it, Powell, to such keenness 
 That it would rip the very womb of Time 
 And send great spirits thro' to Heaven — yea, 
 Could cleave the dome of yonder Capitol. 
 Come, tell me, Powell, do you see anything? 
 Look in my eye ; behold your image there. 
 
 Holding his hand, puts the other arm around him. 
 Perhaps our hearts, now laid together thus, 
 And linked so long in boyhood's trustful love, 
 Like shells by tyrant Neptune cast ashore, 
 Might whisper "Vengeance," "Brutus," "Cassius," "Rome." 
 
 POWELL {releases himself). 
 
 Would God that I were Cassius and could find 
 A Brutus bold enough to strike my palm ! 
 
 Booth — Striking palms. 
 
 Soft! soft! Now, should our armies fail, do you 
 Mount, as Virginius did, and ride to Rome, 
 The very valleys shouting to your horse's hoofs, 
 Virginia's valleys shouting back to Heaven, 
 "Sic semper tyrannis!" Rome is free! 
 
 [33] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 How shall I read in all this trash 
 The purpose of your soul. Speak out! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 What if the President were sent to Heaven, 
 Would France and England recognize the South ? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 If Cerberus should meet me in the way, 
 
 I'd off with both his heads, while you, forsooth, 
 
 Would decollate but one, to make the dog more hideous. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 No dread of law? No qualms of conscience, eh? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Conscience and law? Yes, these shall point the way, 
 
 As taught us by the statesmen of our day. 
 
 "A higher law" has lately been proclaimed 
 
 As better far than what our fathers framed ; 
 
 Seward proclaimed it ; Lincoln holds it good, 
 
 To fill the world with misery and blood. 
 
 "That higher law" deprived us of the slaves 
 
 Our fathers purchased from the canting knaves, 
 
 Because, forsooth, we would not wear the chain 
 
 Of tariffs levied only for their gain. 
 
 They crushed State rights to make that claim secure ; 
 
 Then gave to Federal power what States possessed before, 
 
 And having numbers — vandals from afar — 
 
 "Cried havoc and let slip the dogs of war." 
 
 Down came their armies, and the fiends accursed 
 
 Our homes invaded with infernal lust. 
 
 From blazing roofs our helpless women driven 
 
 Made suicide their last appeal to Heaven, 
 
 Imploring God, yet tearing wide their wounds, 
 
 At sight of which o'er sickened nature swoons. 
 
 All this and more the conscience justifies, 
 
 If we may trust their sniveling and their lies. 
 
 That "higher law/' a mask for crime, 
 
 [34] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 To suit the pious knavery of our time. 
 Command me, then, and if our armies fail, 
 That higher law shall over might prevail. 
 Prepare your play and put me in the cast, 
 For I will fight and fight them to the last. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 His heart was gentle as his love for Lilly, 
 
 Ere this unnatural war had tongued its wounds ; 
 
 And yet to the tiger's fierceness could it rise 
 
 When o'er topping insolence presumed too far. 
 
 I well remember how he struck a giant once 
 
 For giving insults to a helpless woman ; 
 
 First with his hand ; but, drawing then his sword, 
 
 He clove the villain to his buttocks. 
 
 With three such men, knit firmly to my soul, 
 
 This drama could be played ; but without such 
 
 'Twould drag upon the stage and prove abortive ; 
 
 Yet every actor cannot be a star, 
 
 And I must cast this piece for humbler stock. 
 
 Knocks. 
 Enter Herold, dressed gaily with flowers. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 They say that we are wondrously alike. 
 "Now is the winter of our discontent 
 Made glorious summer by the Son of York." 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Come, butterfly, if I should blow a candle out, 
 Could you blow out another? 
 Tell Atzerot to come in here. 
 
 Exit Herold. 
 
 This shallow boy will ape me to the last ; 
 And, like the monkey, shaving as his master, 
 The poor thing ere long may vent his windpipe. 
 Vain of my friendship, he would die to serve me, 
 While Atzerot, for money, would encounter hell ; 
 And yet I scarcely fancy thus with murderers 
 To conspire. What is conscience after all? 
 
 [35] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Perhaps the ghost of early training throws 
 
 Its shadow on the path of desperate deeds, 
 
 Or creeps behind to hold the elbow back. 
 
 O coward conscience, trembling at a nightmare! 
 
 Poor spaniel, pawing at thy master's door! 
 
 Vile shadow cast by some obtrusive light — 
 
 Ah, yes, a light ! and that is what we dread — 
 
 A light more piercing than th' unpupiled eye 
 
 Of day — burning like phosphorus in bones — 
 
 Unseen and covered by the womb of darkness, 
 
 Yet giving keenness to the stings of memory, 
 
 And penetrating every chamber of the soul. 
 
 Let him who boasts his freedom bawl with fools ; 
 
 But all of us are slaves and cowards from the start! 
 
 Enter Herold and Atzerot — Booth abstracted. 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Veil, Master Booth, vy did you send for me ? 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Not now, not now, eh ; some other time will do. 
 For I, eh, am going ; but both of you, eh, remember, 
 I'll need your services some other time — 
 Yours, Atzerot, for money; Herold, yours 
 For love. Both meet me here tomorrow night. 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Veil, de best time for anyting is now. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 No, no ; not now ; some other time ; some other time. 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Veil, shentlemens, mit money you can buy me, 
 For I can cut dem throats as good as any man. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Why do you speak of cutting throats? 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 He takes us both for murderers. 
 
 [36] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Yes, shentlemens, I listened mit de keyhole 
 Ven you and Payne vas fightin' fur de last. 
 Mine Got, I knows it all — give me de monish ; 
 Tells me vat fur do — gives me de knife, 
 An' tells me who, fur dead mens tells no tales! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Begone, base cutthroat. Go! begone! begone! 
 
 O, how the villain freezes up my blood. 
 ATZEROT {going). 
 
 Veil, you sent fur me, and I can go; 
 But if I tells de policeman, vat fur den ? 
 And Dr. Mary Trotter — vat for her? 
 She listens mit de keyhole, too — ha! ha! 
 Vat if she tell de President! vot den! 
 Some tings, you bet, I don't likes pretty well. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Aside. 
 
 Going. 
 
 Stay, stay ; my blood was frozen by your villainy ; 
 But meet me in the green room when the play 
 Shall warm it. Then will I cast your several parts. 
 
 Exit H. and A. 
 As they go out John Brown rises with serpents over Booth's 
 head. 
 
 Booth looking at his watch. 
 'Tis just an hour ere the play begins; 
 But Richard shall be aped as ne'er before on earth, 
 For I will fit the deep intents of his dark soul 
 So nicely to mine own that all shall cry, 
 " 'Tis he! 'tis he!" My father's ghost once more 
 Shall put the buskin on ; his father's, too. 
 Shall stride the stage and fill my soul 
 With all the fiery vengeance of our race. 
 
 Enter Dr. Mary Trotter. 
 What, again obtruding! Woman, go, go! 
 Take back your letter, with its sickening vows, 
 Its baby, puking of immodest love. 
 
 [37] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Reads aside. 
 Aside, reads. 
 
 To Booth. 
 
 DR. MARY {snatching it). 
 
 Then give it me, and learn that woman's wrath 
 Hath tenfold fury for her love. 
 
 Mary E. Surratt, aha! — a pretty thing to love! 
 
 Remember your promise to write or come early ; 
 John will be off to Richmond in the morning. 
 Aha! From home. The widow there? 
 
 And you to spurn me for a wrinkled hag! 
 
 The strumpet; I'll tear her very eyes out; 
 
 The Rebel wench; I'll hang her on a gibbet, 
 
 And you shall dangle by your lady love. 
 
 The hag! I'll give you both a swinging hammock 
 
 For your marriage bed. I'll — I'll 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 I cannot bear your costume, and your face 
 Pecks like a hawk into my very soul. 
 Whether man or woman, whate'er thou art, 
 Monster, I cannot brook your presence — go! 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 Now mark me, traitor, I will have your heart. 
 
 Since beauty cannot win it, fury can ; 
 
 For I will clutch it in these polycarpal bones 
 
 And hurl it down and stamp it in the dust, 
 
 Or snatch it on my cane and swing it high, 
 
 Then will I hang it in the market place, 
 
 To be pecked at by hawks and vultures tamed 
 
 To loyal citizens, since men have turned to beasts. 
 
 Go, traitor ; scheme with Atzerot and Payne ; 
 
 But I will put detectives on your track. 
 
 Ha! ha! I'll have your heart — ha! ha! ha! ha! 
 
 And hers — her eyes, her heart, her neck, with yours. 
 
 Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 [38 1 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Poor double-sexed and most unnatural thing — 
 
 Essence of Yankee impudence and guile ; 
 
 I'll play my part so boldly and with art 
 
 So like to Tarquin Brutus that your charge 
 
 Shall fly to chaff. A pretty thing to love ! 
 
 Crow-footed Time now clawing at her temples; 
 
 The shadow of his wing upon her cheek, 
 
 And his black beak bent down between her eyes — 
 
 That forked costume, too. O hideous! 
 
 But I am wasting gaslight on too poor a thing. 
 
 Turns off the gas. 
 Richard now waits to don me with his hump, 
 To breathe His fiery vengeance in my soul, 
 And I will lead his ghastly crowd to crimes 
 Unaudited in these most Christian times; 
 When tyrants, in the gorgan mask of law, 
 Our kindred slay, to hold the world in awe, 
 We, too, without a mask, on Freedom's heights 
 Will strike them down and perish with our rights! 
 
 Exit Booth. 
 
 SCENE IV — Booth's room — Beall's and Lilly's portraits on tht 
 wall — Enter Conger and Baker, detectives. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Are you quite sure that this is his room ? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 No, not sure. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Well, I am sure of one thing. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 What's that ? 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Why, that we detectives might be shot 
 As well as other men. 
 
 [39] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 CONGER. 
 And Booth is a dead shot with a pistol. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Let's be sure; strike a light. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Oh, no danger; his play won't be out for two hours yet. He 
 plays Richard the Third tonight, and that's a long play. Be- 
 sides, Dr. Mary brought us to the door, and of course she knows 
 his room. Striking a light. 
 
 Yes, no mistake; this is it. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 How do you know? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 That's his picture there, and there's the picture of Lieutenant 
 Beall, and that's Beall's sister, the girl we saw at Madame Sur- 
 ratt's. Now, be quick ; this is his room ; let's go through it. 
 
 Pulling open the table drawer. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Hold on ; these pictures might give some clue. Tell me again, 
 who is this Beall? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Why, he's the fellow they captured raiding on St. Albans, a 
 captain of artillery, first with Stonewall Jackson, now a lieuten- 
 ant in the Confederate Navy. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Lieutenant Beall, you say ? The same our dispatches spoke of ? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 The very same — condemned to be shot or hanged next Friday ; 
 that's his sister ; both infernal rebels. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 But tell me, what of this Booth ? 
 
 [40] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 CONGER. 
 Why, he's the great actor. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Fool! I know that; but what about his antecedents. You 
 can't shadow a man properly till you know all about him. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 His forefathers for generations past 
 
 Have been the greatest actors on the stage. 
 
 Descended from the Jews, they still inherit 
 
 Those gifts of genius, energy, and thrift 
 
 Which make Judea's name a proverb thro' the world ; 
 
 And notwithstanding England's cruel prejudice, 
 
 She cradles them in old Westminster Abbey. 
 
 His father was a wonder on the stage, 
 
 And J. Wilkes Booth inherits all his genius. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 What kin is he to Edwin Booth ? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 I'll take that back, for Edwin is his brother, 
 And both are stars of the first magnitude, 
 The glory of our stage. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Oh, I know Edwin Booth and he knows me, 
 But I always took him for an Englishman. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 No, not he ; they're all to the manor born, 
 
 All born in Maryland. Their mother still 
 
 Presides in the old homestead, and they have 
 
 Sisters, and another brilliant brother, named — 
 
 I think his name is Junius Brutus Booth — 
 
 And on their mother's side they claim affinities 
 
 With General Lee — the Powells, Bealls, and Madisons — 
 
 All families of great note in old Virginia. 
 
 But Edwin is a Union man. 
 
 [41] 
 
MADAME S U R R A T T 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Now I see it all — be quick. 
 Let's go through the papers. 
 
 They rummage in drawers and scatter letters on floor — Baker 
 at bureau and Conger reads letters at table. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Here are a thousand letters from the women. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Yes, they are all crazy for him — ha! ha! ha! 
 Hear this. Ha! ha! ha! ha! (Reads.) 
 "I have read of gods in history, but never 
 Saw one till you played last night." Ha! ha! ha! 
 "Let me but bow down and kiss your footprints. 
 They make the very ground burn with glory. 
 Then spurn me, if you can. This will be my last letter. If 
 you should not answer it I will call at your hotel this evening to 
 demand it." 
 Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Reading letter left on table during Conger s reading. 
 I knew it! Hell's to pay! 
 
 Reads: "To J. S. Clark, theatrical manager, Philadelphia" 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Clark is his brother-in-law. 
 
 baker (reads). 
 
 "Dear Clark, our once bright stripes lock like bloody gashes 
 on the face of Heaven." 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 That sounds like craziness. 
 
 BAKER (reading on). 
 
 "I know how foolish I shall be deemed for taking such a step 
 as this, where on one side I have many friends and everything to 
 make me happy, where my profession alone has gained me an in- 
 
 [42] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 come of more than $20,000 a year, and where my great personal 
 ambition in my profession has such a great field for labor. On 
 the other hand, the South has never bestowed upon me one kind 
 word — a place where now I have no friends except beneath the 
 sod — a place where I must either become a private soldier or a 
 beggar. To give up all the former for the latter, besides my 
 mother and sisters, whom I love so dearly (although they differ 
 from me so widely in opinion), seems insane; but God is my 
 judge. Right or wrong, God judge me, not man ; for, be my 
 motive good or bad, of one thing I am sure, the lasting condemna- 
 tion of the North. I love peace more than life; have loved the 
 Union beyond expression. For four years have I waited, hoped, 
 prayed for the dark clouds to break and for a restoration of 
 our former sunshine. To wait longer would be a crime. All 
 hope for peace is dead. My prayers has proved as idle as my 
 hopes. God's will be done. I go to see and share the bitter 
 end." * 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 You can't make anything out of that. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 I can't, eh? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 No, he talks the same way to Lincoln himself. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Then Lincoln's a fool, that's all. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Enter Miss Agnes Booth. 
 
 AG. BOOTH. 
 
 Alas! this news falls heavily. My brother 
 Almost sank beneath it ; and Lilly Beall — 
 Poor child! her moaning haunts me still. 
 
 Enter Edwin Booth. 
 Edwin, Edwin, where is Wilkie? 
 
 ♦This letter is preserved in Townsend's letters to the New York Sun. 
 
 [43] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 Not yet returned? 
 
 AG. BOOTH. 
 
 Not yet, Edwin ; have you seen him since ? 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 Only a moment, when he rushed out from the stage. 
 
 This acting Richard always makes him mad — 
 
 More reckless than father when he played his Brutus; 
 
 But I never saw him half so wild before. 
 
 And then, to make the matter worse, that news 
 
 From poor Lieutenant Beall afflicts him sorely. 
 
 You must to bed, Agnes; I shall find him soon. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 (Same scene — Booth's room — Enter Wilkes Booth — Glances 
 at letters on the floor). 
 
 w. BOOTH. 
 
 Well, the play is ended, and ended well. 
 
 Richard no longer now affects the stage, 
 
 And vanished like a dream are all his actors ; 
 
 Yet still on many a weary couch, where sleep 
 
 Begets fantastic images more real, 
 
 They play the king, and those unhappy children — 
 
 Their auditors, whose just applause inspired, 
 
 Gone with them to mysterious and oblivious realms. 
 
 Now play unconsciously their several parts — 
 
 Mere mimicry of that eternal sleep. 
 
 When the great closing scenes shall be adjusted 
 
 And the last curtain falls! 
 
 O that I, too, could sleep! But I cannot. 
 
 Thou, Lieutenant Beall, condemned to die, 
 
 Thou cans't not sleep, and why should I ! 
 
 But the current of war must have its course, 
 
 And we poor pismires can only peep up 
 
 At the spurs of our booted and brave masters. 
 
 They call it liberty, and yet invade 
 
 All that is sacred in the rights of man. 
 
 Home is no longer private, and even love's whispers 
 
 [44] 
 
MADAME S U R R A T T 
 
 Are blown through trumpets to the giggling crowd. 
 
 'Tis not the people of that mighty nation 
 
 For whom our fathers took Cornwallis' sword, 
 
 On old Virginia's soil, and paid her blood. 
 
 No, the people are ever friends to liberty ; 
 
 But base politicians, both North and South, 
 
 Have driven us to this verge of ruin. 
 
 Black weeds of mourning darken all the land ; 
 
 Millions of orphans, wailing thro' the night, 
 
 Ask for their fathers, to be answered by a tear ; 
 
 And other millions, born to purple, now 
 
 To poverty reduced, shiver with cold, 
 
 While low-born insolence rides over them. 
 
 O my country! land of the free, farewell! 
 
 And thou, my Maryland, O my Maryland! 
 
 Thy hearthstones shattered and thy children slain, 
 
 Farewell ! 
 
 Turning to BealVs picture. 
 'Twas a fond impulse to return to thee, 
 Poor shadow of a thousand manly virtues ! 
 Who would not stand abashed before such majesty! 
 And all the more in this room, with its memories. 
 Aye, this chamber, graceless as that garden 
 Where the vile serpent coiled our mother Eve 
 And slimed those flowers fresh from God's own hand ; 
 This chamber, shiftless as a country stage, 
 Where revelers drank down the beaded hours, 
 Sparkling for better purposes, and where 
 Bright eyes and swimming forms, like th' unfrocked wind, 
 Unheralded and unattended, came and went. 
 O Conscience, Conscience, would that I could slay thee! 
 O for some talisman to conjure back 
 Thy clattering horses, unrelenting Time! 
 
 Enter young girl richly attired. 
 What, so young, so fair, so beautiful ! 
 Perhaps high-born and to some mother tied 
 By sunbeams twisted from a father's brow. 
 Poor child! are these thy letters? Take them back. 
 
 Gives letters. 
 Go, go ! Go to some cloister, child, and wed, 
 With your imagination, Heaven's sweet Prince, 
 
 [45] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Not Richard ; he's an arrant rake, a murderer. 
 
 Go throw thyself upon that mother's heart again 
 
 And suck once more the flowers of Paradise ; 
 
 But fly those painted men you see upon the stage. 
 
 We are not formed to love as angels love. 
 
 I have a sister, too — a mother — go, go! 
 
 Me thought those letters came from some enthusiast, 
 
 Tutored in the world's arts and fit for me ; 
 
 But now I quake to find thee on that crater; 
 
 Fly ! or hell will suck thy childish feet. 
 
 Exit girl. 
 
 Turning to Beall's picture. 
 O my brave friend! From thee I learned such lessons 
 As high-born souls and chivalry impart. 
 
 Turning to Lilly's picture. 
 And thou, sweet angel, shining on my soul, 
 As lillies that cup up the riplets of the lake, 
 To shed their sweetness o'er its garnished waters, 
 So thou did'st drink some surface of my better self, 
 Unconscious of the horrid depths that lie beneath ! 
 O I must fly this chamber with its memories. 
 I'll seek again the midnight stage, 
 Which suits the purpose of my darkened soul — 
 The midnight stage ! So like to death itself ! 
 Perhaps my murdered friends might meet me there ; 
 And other spirits, cutting through the curtain, 
 May gleam upon me, like ten thousand swords. 
 Why not? They walked from Paradise to Calvary! 
 All ages, all great intellects, beheld them. 
 Even Socrates, earth's prime philosopher, 
 Had a familiar spirit, tho' fools laughed. 
 So hucksters in Jerusalem and Athens 
 Giggled in the temples as now they do. 
 Devils have made assaults on human souls 
 And shaped themselves to every form — 
 From writhing serpent up to man's estate. 
 Angels in Gethsemane, 'tis said, 
 
 Appeared to Christ and bore a cup to strengthen him. 
 The Devil, too, once hurled him high in air 
 And placed him on a pinnacle of God's great Temple ; 
 Thence to a lofty mountain, and arrayed 
 
 46] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Before him all the kingdoms of the world ! 
 
 Was every age made up of knaves and villains ? 
 
 Or is our little span the only one, 
 
 Unworthy visits from th' unseen world ? 
 
 Or are we such peddlers and base shopkeepers 
 
 That, like the meaner sort of olden time, 
 
 We see no spirits — our noses stuck in samples. 
 
 No, no ; mere hucksters never saw the stars, 
 
 Much less th' invisible host which they portend. 
 
 Stars are but shadows cast by spirits close to God ; 
 
 And such are serpents, too, by devils formed. 
 
 Ah ! yes, great goblins of the ancient globe 
 
 Do walk about this world, and I will meet them 
 
 On that same stage where Richard fell tonight. 
 
 Thither my steps! and you, yet spirits impalpable, 
 
 Scorned by the vulgar, known to lofty souls, 
 
 Ye ghosts angelic, pure and sanctified, 
 
 And you, ye devils, visible in darkness, 
 
 Rise at my bidding, follow to the midnight stage! 
 
 Exit. 
 Enter John Brown's ghost. 
 
 JOHN BROWN. 
 
 Aye! follow the we will — to hell begone, 
 
 And tell them there, "John Brown is marching on." 
 
 Exit. 
 
 SCENE V — Scene in street, by gaslight — Conger and Baker in 
 dum show — Dr. Mary explaining a letter. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 i see nothing in that letter — nothing. 
 
 Madame Surratt could surely ask a friend 
 
 To visit her ; and what more could you make of it ? 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 True the letter, taken by itself, is nothing; 
 But, like the occipital and ginglymus bones, 
 It links together high and lower parts. 
 You shadow Booth and leave his friends to me. 
 
 [47] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Herold and Atzerot have rooms adjoining his, 
 And I'll consult the keyhole for their secrets, 
 Till the vile plot comes to view. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Good ! good ! Eavesdrop the villains while they drink, 
 But when they bubble over, note it down. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 O Captain, I've a glorious mission now; 
 Leave all to me; I'll send them up some beer, 
 And never plummet sank into the sea 
 As I will plunge into their seething souls. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 A good beginning! but the fox must wait, 
 Often to watch his chickens at the gate. 
 Keep to your post and make that keyhole hear 
 The very whispers of their foaming beer. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI — Atzerot and Herold drinking — Atzerot's room. 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Now, dot is de best beer you ever drinks. 
 Dot's no bottled beer, but fries from de keg. 
 Beer, you see, he gits flat no time atol — 
 De gas all fly away ! 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Then drink before it flies. 
 I'm tight already; but you're a fine fellow, 
 And I'll do anything in the world for you. 
 I'll even drink your beer. 
 
 Enter Dr. Mary Trotter. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Why, Dr. Mary, as I live! Come, come, 
 You spinster bottle, let me fill you up ! 
 
 [48] 
 
MADAME SURRA T T 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 I hate you men, your whiskey and tobacco; 
 But diagnosis argues each necessity; 
 And my diaphragm demands some beer. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 The world demands that you shall have a bier. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 Give me a drink. (Drinks.) 
 
 My pleura argues pleurisy, 
 
 And my pneuma indicates pneumonia. 
 
 Have you read my book on bulls and horses yet ? 
 
 It maps the conjugations of you men. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 I never read such books ; they shock my piety. 
 Come, drink again, you wormy shrimp; 
 There's nothing like good lager for the bots. 
 
 You bottle-fly, with wings upon your hips! 
 No mouth but this would ever touch your lips. 
 
 Offering bottle. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 If bottle-flies delight in carrion, I 
 
 Should drink with you whenever I am dry. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 You centipede, you little rattlesnake! 
 
 You pitchfork ! Do you take me for a rake ? 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 If snakes have rattles in their tails — egad ! 
 Your rattles all are in your head. 
 If I am forked, so are other folk; 
 Then where's the marrow of your joke? 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 You forked thing ! Not see it ! Why, 
 When meadows kiss the dusky sky, 
 
 [49] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Pitchforks and rakes together lie. 
 
 She boxes him and dances out, singing "Shoo, Fly. J 
 Well, now, to business. Where is Johnson's room? 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Just under us, and mit de shootin' — 
 I drops de pistol here, den runs away. 
 
 Uncovers hole in the floor. 
 
 HEROLD 
 
 Great God ! there's Johnson in his bed ! 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Ya; he'sh been drunk all day — last night. 
 
 Listens and takes broom. 
 Sh! sh! sh! 
 
 Vot if she listen mit de keyhole now! 
 Sh! sh! sh! Vait! vait! 
 
 Slips to the door and opens suddenly — In falls Dr. Alary. 
 Mine Got ! Vot am dot ? Vot is it ? 
 Murder! Murder! Vot is it? 
 
 Beats Dr. Mary with a broom. 
 
 [50] 
 
ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I — Theater — Enter John Brown s ghost and devils 
 with snakes. 
 
 JOHN BROWN. 
 
 He bade us follow to the midnight stage, 
 And doing our own will, we humor his. 
 When first I crept into his soul at Arlington 
 He trembled like an aspen, and conceived 
 The poison which I smeared upon his liver, 
 Pregnant now with raw heads and bloody bones; 
 But as I urge him onward to the deed 
 His soul recoils and plunges to and fro, 
 Like waters dashing to Ontario, 
 Just ere they reach Niagara's rock, 
 To clear it with an earthquake shock ! 
 See! see! he comes! ye waters boil, 
 And Hell's red serpents round him coil. 
 
 Enter Booth. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Their costumes all in base confusion, 
 
 Like leaves of autumn, scattered here and there, 
 
 Proclaim the last act finished and the players gone. 
 
 So we who wear our bodies for the cast 
 
 Must soon sling them down or hang them up — 
 
 An ugly thought ! and yet a welcome one ; 
 
 For every actor, whether great or small, 
 
 Whether on this stage or the big world, 
 
 Contaminated by its loathsome fumes, 
 
 Bemoans some secret ill and sighs for rest. 
 
 O that I, too, could fly this Ashless brook 
 
 And meet on yonder green, celestial hill 
 
 My kindred and friends of youth. 
 
 Alas! how changed at midnight is the stage! 
 
 Its music, actors, beauty, gone so soon — 
 
 In one short hour! Ah, yes; the stage is sad 
 
 When those we played with have all gone to rest ! 
 
 John Brown holds a serpent over him. 
 
 [51] 
 
 SVOHU-NO* 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 God ! can I stand it ? My brain reels ! 
 They will not, shall not, shoot Lieutenant Beall ! 
 My very heartstrings burst and my mind wanders! 
 'Twill make me mad. They dare not shoot him! 
 Perhaps a song might soothe me. I'll try it. (Sings:) 
 "I feel like one who treads alone 
 
 Some banquet hall deserted, 
 Whose lights are gone, whose guests are flown, 
 
 And all but me departed." 
 No, it soothes me not. O for some sweet minstrel ! 
 Could Lilly but be here with her sad harp, 
 The same she struck in yonder happy home, 
 For her brave brother, doomed to die so soon. 
 Could she but bring that wilderness of song, 
 This evil spirit instantly would fly, 
 As Merodach from Saul when David played. 
 
 JOHN brown (aside). 
 
 Tell Merodach to come in here. (Laughs.) 
 
 Booth holds his head, as in agony, sitting. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 'Twere better far to spare the poor fool's life ; 
 
 For, after all, he's not the worst of men. 
 
 In sooth, he's a good man and has a kind heart ; 
 
 But good is as good doth ; and not doing well 
 
 Gives the lie to simulation and punches 
 
 In its teeth. I'll try his goodness for a pardon, 
 
 And if he leave Lieutenant Beall to perish 
 
 This dagger then shall probe his rottenness 
 
 And let its filth flow, to knock men's noses up, 
 
 Tho' all the hypocrites from Hell shout murder ! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 BROWN. 
 
 Still, on the dreadful brink, his soul 
 
 Recoils — too cowardly to plunge; 
 
 Next he'll be praying; then farewell 
 
 To all my conjurations. See, he comes again. 
 
 Enter Merodach — A serpent with babboons head. 
 Go, Merodach, and climb to his imagination — 
 
 [52] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Climb to its very heights — and coil about it, 
 Lashing with fiery tail each lofty peak, 
 And from its pinnacles spit fire to heaven. 
 
 Enter Booth. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 I'll try another song, from poor Tom Moore. (Sings.) 
 "When true hearts lie withered 
 
 And fond ones are flown, 
 O who would inhabit 
 
 This bleak world alone?" 
 Then, dearest of angels (Kneels — Devils fly); 
 No longer delay! 
 
 Angel approaches. Snakes run off. 
 Come, spread your bright pinions 
 And bear me away! (Rising.) 
 Who knows hut that one single prayer 
 Might throw all Hell into confusion! 
 But was it prayer, or Tom Moore's spirit 
 Falling on my heart! 'Tis the poet's gift 
 To weave mysterious measures for the soul, 
 And make calamity a cup of consolation. 
 Perhaps this was all ; and yet I do feel 
 As though a serpent had uncoiled my heart 
 And dropped back to Hell. 
 I'd pray again, but prayers are mere wind; 
 The big winds only bump about the world ; 
 Then why should smaller ones puff up to Heaven ? 
 
 Angels vanish and devils steal back exulting. 
 No, I'll wrestle with these devils all alone. 
 "Go tell 5'our masters of Carroli 
 That, like an eagle in a dovecote, 
 I fluttered your Volsci. Alone I did it!" 
 
 Enter Conger on balcony, unseen by Booth. 
 Poor Lilly! when that message came tonight — 
 All tears and agony, she fell upon my knees, 
 Clung to her Prince, and bathed his robes in tears. 
 O that the Prince could save him ! Yes, sweet Lilly, 
 Fairest flower of the field ! to die for him 
 Would lead ambition to a nobler stage 
 And make a tragedy to suit me well ! 
 She reminds me of "The Last Rose of Summer," 
 
 r 53 1 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 For other sisters blossomed in that garden then, 
 When Beall was radiant as the noon-day sun, 
 And gave those blossoms half their beauty. 
 I'll sing that song for her sake. (Sings.) 
 
 "Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed, 
 Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead." 
 By heavens! I'll scatter the leaves o'er his bed! 
 'Twould be a charity to send her with him, 
 And nothing could please the poor child better. 
 O that she were nestling in this bossom now. (Drawing dagger.) 
 I'd send her sweet spirit to the skies 
 And lay her lilly form upon his grave ; 
 Then would I slay their enemies and follow them, 
 To play this tragedy on some mysterious stage! 
 Who goes there ? I saw them passing — all in red — 
 Lincoln and Johnson, Seward and his crew. 
 Now they climb up the masts like monkeys, 
 Red jackets on them — red caps, too. Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Clasping his head. 
 O that this too billowy brain, upheaving, 
 Would let the ships down that prance upon 't ! 
 Their giddy masts are tickling the big clouds, 
 To make them laugh loud thunder, and poor Lincoln 
 Tells anecdotes to the man i' the moon. 
 
 Conger gives great attention. 
 Good-natured soul, I'll help him up higher, 
 To ride on Pegasus or Capricorn thro' Heaven. 
 Give us your foot, boy, bounce! Away he flies! Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Mad ! Mad as a March hare ! 
 
 w. BOOTH. 
 
 And now, if I know myself, the king trembled. 
 
 How he leaped down from his lofty throne 
 
 When those players probed him to the quick. (Laughs.) 
 
 "How did the galled jade wince!" Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Yes ; the rules of this most wicked world, 
 
 Tho' riding on the heads of groaning millions, 
 
 Are tenfold weaker than a coward's knees, 
 
 While justice, even when hanging on a cross, 
 
 [54] 
 
MADAME S U R R A T T 
 
 Can shake the universe. 
 
 But was it Hamlet or King Lear we played ? 
 
 Upon my soul, I do forget what play was acted. 
 
 Or was it Richard, shouting to the clouds, 
 
 "A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!" 
 
 And was it real, or a mimic scene? 
 
 Was 't the buskin, with its pompous lie? 
 
 Or was I what seemed to be — a king? 
 
 Or only Booth descended from Westminister, 
 
 Where now, in Poets' Corner, sleep my fathers! 
 
 Where Shakespeare twirls his small mustache and smiles 
 
 When th' elder Booth at midnight plays again 
 
 To Sheridan and Burke and rare old Ben, 
 
 Moving sometimes as Brutus on the stage, 
 
 And raising such a tempest in his wrath 
 
 That the ghosts all tremble and their great kings 
 
 Run back, like mice, into their crypts. 
 
 Ha! ha! how I would like to see them run — 
 
 Those blind old mice, the kings of England! Ha! ha! 
 
 No, no ; I am not Booth ; 'twas all a dream. 
 
 And yet it must be so, for never did King Lear 
 
 Eat oysters with Lieutenant Beall, 
 
 As I did often at Delmonico's, 
 
 Sometimes at Harvey's, on the Avenue. 
 
 And must he die so soon — he, my best friend ? 
 
 The lightning rushed to tell me of his fate, 
 
 And fainted — zigzag marks upon her cheek. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 He needs a doctor more than a detective. 
 I'll try to find his brother Edwin. 
 
 Exit. 
 w. BOOTH. 
 
 God! and must he stand alone! 
 
 His brave arms defiant, folded on his breast! 
 
 No, he shall have an escort. Yes, brave Prince ! 
 
 King Lear is all deserted by his court ; 
 
 The tempest breaks and cracks upon his cheek — 
 
 "Only fifty attendants for a king!" 
 
 But thou shall have an escort. I will send 
 
 The whole cabinet, who took part against me 
 
 [55] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Here tonight with those ungrateful daughters — 
 
 Lincoln and Johnson, Seward — all ; I saw them, 
 
 Laughing with those devils — black, and blue, and red — 
 
 Base plebians, tricked \vi power to mock a king! 
 
 Ha! ha! (picks up Richard's crown, puts it on.) 
 
 King Lear shall wear his power again, 
 
 And his scepter for a moment hidden thus (draws dagger), 
 
 Shall spring upon them, like the venomed snake, 
 
 Whose hissing tongue and horny rattles shake 
 
 Such notes of war that all the world shall quake. 
 
 Exit. 
 Enter John Brown and devils, burning brimstone in a caldron- 
 all singing. 
 
 Stir the brimstone, stir it well ; 
 
 We brought it from the pits of Hell ! 
 
 Stir the brimstone, let him smell 
 
 The price of blood, the stink of Hell! 
 
 Stir the brimstone, stir the snake, 
 
 We brought him from the Stygian lake ! 
 
 Stir his rattles, let him shake 
 
 Such notes of war that all the world shall quake! 
 
 W. BOOTH (behind scenes). 
 Such notes of war that all the world shall quake ! 
 
 JOHN BROWN (last in procession). 
 
 See him standing there, 
 
 The picture of despair; 
 
 How his eyeballs glare! 
 
 Then do your duty well 
 
 And drag him down to Hell ; 
 
 Drag him down, all red with blood ; 
 
 Then plunge him in the Stygian flood, 
 
 And let not mercy shed a tear 
 
 For the blood-stained murderer! 
 
 Enter Edwin Booth. 
 
 [56] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 Surely 'twas his voice! Wilkie, brother, speak! 
 No, 'twas but the loud wind, too fondly echoed 
 From a brother's heart and coined into his accents, 
 Weird, unearthly sounds, that seemed to mock him ! 
 
 Enter Baker. 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 Hello, Baker! why, my brave boy, 
 You play the fishmonger splendidly. 
 But why do you detectives follow me ? 
 You know that I am loyal. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Yes, that is so ; we know that you are loyal, 
 
 But your brother either plays fantastic tricks 
 
 From madness or from hatching deep designs. 
 
 Come, Booth, can you account for his strange conduct? 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 Well, 'tis no easy matter to explain, 
 But listen and you'll get, at least, a glimpse. 
 'Tis the sad fate of actors, when o'ervvrought, 
 Especially in tragedy, that losing the helm 
 And staggering on the deck, like sailors 
 When a ship goes down, they drink too deeply! 
 Poor fellow ! he can't last long at this rate. 
 When finishing his part tonight his eyes 
 Did glow like two great balls of fire. 
 Even his sister stood amazed 
 And his best friends fled from him. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 But does acting make a man disloyal, 
 Or does it put him on the scent of blood ? 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 Listen and you may partly understand: 
 'Tis a lonely life that actors lead ; 
 Too often from society excluded, 
 
 [57] 
 
MADAME S U R R A T T 
 
 Like birds of evil omen by the sea, 
 
 They seem to meditate some tragic act ; 
 
 Or, more like gas pipes, waiting for the darkness, 
 
 Their very nature takes a hue of sadness. 
 
 Their disappointments, too, are manifold, 
 
 And, like those other birds that follow ships, 
 
 Players, upheld on agile wings of genius, 
 
 Diversions render to an idle crew 
 
 For tossing them a few crumbs. 
 
 And yet in this my brother was most fortunate, 
 
 Clearing in one year twenty thousand dollars ; 
 
 Then coining ten for one by speculation. 
 
 Enter Valco 
 
 VALCO. 
 
 I have been to his room ; he had not yet returned. 
 
 E. BOOTH (aside to Valco). 
 
 Go quickly, Valco ; put him on his guard ; 
 
 Detectives now are on his track ; 
 
 Warn him of the danger ; I will hold them here. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Well, I must go. You can't explain him, eh? 
 
 E. BOOTH (taking his buttonhole confidingly). 
 
 Stay for a moment ; I can soon explain. 
 
 Yes; he acquired suddenly a large fortune; 
 
 And yet it is the saddest thing of all 
 
 That actors, like humming birds on flowers feeding, 
 
 Subsist upon imagination's marrow, 
 
 Whose subtle essence so can change the brain 
 
 That truth and falsehood in its conformation 
 
 Play for awhile bo-peep ; then bed together. 
 
 Conspiracies, and lusts, and stooping murder 
 
 Would thence be born but for our pride and breeding* 
 
 Or, to speak more properly, but for grace 
 
 Which Heaven supplies to them who need it most. 
 
 baker (pulling away). 
 
 Well, all of that to me, Booth, 
 Is just about as clear as mud. 
 
 [58] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 E. BOOTH {clinging to his buttonhole). 
 
 Would you but listen, I could well explain him ; 
 
 For th' imagination, like an angel, 
 
 Leaps from the sky, all redolent of incense, 
 
 But our perversity of will doth taint it, 
 
 And low-bom Lust, upon his belly creeping, 
 
 Can dream of angels, and would coil them to his scales. 
 
 All crimes are cradled in th' imagination, 
 
 And hence the great actor plays a dangerous role. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Damn'd if I don't believe you are all crazy. 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 To be above the common sort of men, 
 
 Is, after all, but Midas played upon the stage ; 
 
 The gods might turn our very brains to gold. 
 
 But who would eat them ? Do swine munch pearls ? 
 
 Festus or Agrippa — I forget which — 
 
 But one of them called Saul a madman. 
 
 Now, listen, for I'm coming to the point, 
 
 And will tell my brother's secret, if you'll keep it. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Yes, I'll keep anything; but damn it, 
 Tell me in plain language. 
 
 E. BOOTH. 
 
 I will; but recall what I have just said, 
 
 That the great actor plays a dangerous role ; 
 
 For acting, would it move the soul, must lose 
 
 Its own conception and become reality. 
 
 'Tis a transient madness — mikra mania, 
 
 The Greeks believed ; and when it drops the mask, 
 
 Or seems to pass away, still in the brain 
 
 Its eggs lie buried, to hatch the cocatrice. 
 
 That dangerous role long hath my brother played ; 
 
 Nor can you judge him as a common man, 
 
 For he was ever Fancy's star-born child, 
 
 With agile step to climb her flying wheels, 
 
 [59] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 To snatch with easy hand the silken reins 
 And guide her coursers thro' th' sky! 
 
 BAKER {pulling away and escaping). 
 
 I must go. I can't understand you. Exit. 
 
 E. BOOTH {looking after him). 
 
 No ; and as little will this huckstering world 
 
 The waywardness of genius to the end of time ! 
 
 Its greatest crimes are often but misfortunes, 
 
 And its petty follies like spots upon the sun ! 
 
 And so little things about us judge 
 
 As children gazing at a firefly — 
 
 To them more splendid than a distant star; 
 
 The one an insect, one a glorious world — 
 
 Sometimes a world in ruins flying from its sphere — 
 
 To the great mass of men a gilded rag — 
 
 Imposture finery, fading at a touch, 
 
 Or smiling sycophants flipped up to power, 
 
 Mere coin-struck images for head and tail, 
 
 Or glittering equipage for some preposterous fool, 
 
 More glorious than the majesty of mind! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 SCENE II — Street in Washington near Madame Surratt's — 
 Enter W . Booth cloaked. 
 
 w. BOOTH. 
 
 Yon weary stars, now fading one by one, 
 
 Dying, salute their Caesar in the sky ; 
 
 So these proud States, though sovereign from their birth, 
 
 Must yield to one great Federal power. 
 
 The very brutes have joined our brutish foes 
 
 And seem to triumph as the stars go down ; 
 
 Yon clamorous cock, impatient of the dawn, 
 
 Rings his shrill clarion to the morning air — 
 
 A proclamation to the feathered tribes 
 
 That Federal power is armed with spurs,-— 
 
 And the loud clapping of his stormy wings 
 
 Shuts to the doors of mercy on his kind, 
 
 Or, like some Beecher-publican, he smites 
 
 [60] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 His breast to wake yon harem from its slumbers, 
 
 All covetous of light, that they may run once more 
 
 Attentive to his cluck, albeit he gobbles down 
 
 The luscious worm, indifferent to their presence ; 
 
 But they can gaze upon his cockish neck, 
 
 Admire his feathers, glittering in the sun, 
 
 And stoop, obedient to the sultan's will ! 
 
 Alas! poor States, the harem of a President! 
 
 Down, down, vile thoughts that mix my country's glory 
 
 With dunghills and the meanest of mankind, 
 
 For day is breaking and his gray Confederate robe 
 
 Moves like a ghost about the Capitol. 
 
 Yon twittering birds, impatient of the chain 
 
 Which tyrant sleep had woven thro' the night, 
 
 Dart forth exulting from each parapet; 
 
 Yon revelers, returning, heel the pavements, 
 
 And echo far away, from Arlington, replies: 
 
 O glorious Arlington, tomb of a nation ! 
 
 Thou headboard at my country's grave! 
 
 Ye marble-hearted columns, hear my vow! 
 
 My venerated sires, Virginia's sons! 
 
 And all ye great and venerable memories attest ! 
 
 Enter Lilly behind and laying her hand upon him. 
 Why, Lilly, you have cut my vow off just 
 Above its shoulders. How came you here, child ? 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Not for an instant have I slept all night, 
 But prayed incessantly for my poor brother ; 
 And when I heard your voice, those silvery tones 
 Which I depend upon to plead with Lincoln, 
 No longer could I keep my bed, but ran down 
 To urge you forward. O my brave friend, 
 Plead for his life ; lose not a single moment ; 
 Lincoln has a good heart, and you can move it. 
 
 w. BOOTH. 
 
 Just as you came I had built a vow ; 
 
 The purport was, that should he not pardon him, 
 
 I'd strike this dagger to his heart. 
 
 Draws dagger. 
 
 [61] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 O terrible! May God forbid such madness! 
 
 The President is not a private citizen, 
 
 And acting in th' affairs of State, is but 
 
 A servant of the people ; for his heart. 
 
 As I have urged, is tender, and no woman 
 
 Has a kinder heart than Mr. Lincoln's. 
 
 Yet Stanton and the cabinet must be consulted ; 
 
 One factor cannot cancel all, and I 
 
 Would rather see my brother perish 
 
 By the laws of war than that his friend 
 
 Should stoop to such a purpose! 
 
 W. BOOTH. 
 
 'Tis well for women to talk thus, but I know 
 
 All the necessities of this occasion, 
 
 And shall bear myself as Brutus, when he rose 
 
 "Refulgent from the stroke of Caesar's fate"; 
 
 But you have not answered me. How came you here ? 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Madame Surratt, my friend, and this her home. 
 She gives her hospitality to all Confederates, 
 And, indeed, to any mortal in distress; 
 For her charity is boundless. How came you here? 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Perplexed all night, I wandered thro' the streets, 
 
 Acting sometimes King Lear and sometimes Richard ; 
 
 But that is past, with much quite horrible; 
 
 The dawn returns me to myself once more, 
 
 To this too real world and your brave brother's fate. 
 
 Let me away to Lincoln; I'll demand his pardon. 
 
 Flourishing a dagger — going. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 O my brave friend, use all your eloquence, 
 But do not harm, for my poor brother's sake. 
 Remember, he dies tomorrow! 
 
 [62] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 W. BOOTH. 
 
 If he must die tomorrow, mark my words, 
 
 Like some great prince, from foreign lands attended, 
 
 He shall enter the courts of the Celestial King 
 
 Followed by dignitaries clad in purple — 
 
 Aye in purple shall they stand before him ! 
 
 Flourishing dagger — Exit — Enter Madame Surratt. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 O my pretty Lilly, what can all this mean? 
 
 It seemed to be your voice, you pretty sinner ! 
 
 And whose, dear, were those heavier silvery chords, 
 
 That made the night so musical ? 
 
 You must come into the house, child ; come, come in ; 
 
 'Twill never do ; for e'en in virtuous love 
 
 Proprieties must be observed, or scandal, 
 
 Quick and keen as vultures on the scent, 
 
 Will pick the pupils of your reputation ; 
 
 For lillies, child, are peerless in their purity ; 
 
 And though their cheeks may turn up to the stars, 
 
 They dare not trust their pearly bosoms 
 
 Even to the glances of the moon. 
 
 For this St. Joseph bears them thro' the world, 
 
 While at his side the Virgin mother stands ; 
 
 Then remember your name, child ; come, come in, 
 
 And let me plant my lilly in her bed. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 This mystery first to be explained. 
 
 All night long had I been praying for my brother, 
 
 When Booth, his bosom Triend, came wandering by, 
 
 With wild soliloquies, and lured me thither. 
 
 Gone to besiege the President; he turned 
 
 Yon corner as you came. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 O my pretty Lilly, 'tis too sad ! 
 What can be done? I'll go myself to Lincoln ; 
 For well he knows me, and many favors, too, 
 Hath granted me — a Rebel, for her Rebel friends. 
 
 [63] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 The poor, good-natured man — Heaven's blessings on him ! 
 Once wept like a child when I pled the cause 
 Of a deserter whose mother was my guest. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 A Union soldier ? His mother your guest ? 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Start not, my child, for tho' this humble roof 
 
 Gives heartier welcome to Confederate friends, 
 
 Yet Union people come to me as well, 
 
 For in the deeper sorrows of the human heart 
 
 No party spirit ever yet could move me. 
 
 These hands would help the meanest thing that breathes ; 
 
 My tears would always flow, perhaps too foolishly, 
 
 And some have mocked me for my childish heart, 
 
 But I would rather die the vilest death 
 
 Than spurn the poorest creature from my door. 
 
 At any rate, I pled for this deserter. 
 
 At first, when I would justify the boy, 
 
 And tried some learned precedent of law, 
 
 His Excellence put on a solemn air 
 
 And told an anecdote, in ridicule. 
 
 At this I took another turn and asked him thus: 
 
 Do you remember, Mr. President, your mother ? 
 
 "Yes," said he, "and when I used to go to mill, 
 
 Or plowed among the daisies in the field, 
 
 I never saw a pretty flower but what 
 
 I thought of her; and when I came from school or work, 
 
 She always met me with her blessing, saying, 
 
 'Ab'ram, you'll one day be President !' " 
 
 I seized the cue and, aiming quick, exclaimed, 
 
 Suppose that mother, kneeling at your feet, should say, 
 
 "Spare the poor boy; O spare him for his mother's sake!" 
 
 At this I paused. The magistrate seemed struggling 
 
 With his filial heart. The strong man trembled 
 
 And T added: "Could you spurn your mother 
 
 From your feet ? I am a mother, too, and know 
 
 A mother's heart!" At this the tears rushed down 
 
 His rugged face and, rising hastily, he said, 
 
 Placing meanwhile his hand upon his heart: 
 
 [64] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 "Go tell his mother, madam, that my mother 
 Pleads for the boy — that I have pardoned him." 
 
 LILLY {clasping Madame Surratt). 
 
 O madam, we have a loving mother, too; 
 Go plead for her, for me, for all of us, 
 And save my brother if you can. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Hark! hark! 'tis th' angelus! Now angels sing, 
 And I have learned thro' life that God most honors 
 TR' enterprise that early honors Him. 
 'Tis th' angelus of St. Dominic. That island, 
 Once a den of thieves, has risen thro' this saint, 
 And thro' the sweet lives of his hooded monks, 
 To eminence in all good works — see, see ! 
 With misty caps upon their venerable heads, 
 Yon hills of Maryland salute the morn ; 
 Let us salute the real sun, of whom 
 Yon fiery orb is but a passing shade, 
 Perhaps the shadow of his crown. We'll first 
 Prefer our suit before the King of Kings. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Stay, stay! my rosary, yet in bed, 
 Keeps company with tears upon it shed, 
 Where all night long I counted, one by one, 
 Those bloody drops in mem'ry of God's Son, 
 And paid to every bead a tear — ah, me! 
 From Bethlehem to Calvary! 
 Then wait one moment till my rosary brings 
 Its mournful tribute to the King of Kings! 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 O charming child ! those beads, methinks, in Heaven 
 Will plead upon thy cheek, O thou Immaculate! 
 Then Lincoln cannot halt, for thou didst give 
 Thy precious tears to mingle in the font 
 Which brought him to the gate of Paradise ; 
 That font was water, and that water blood, 
 
 [65] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Gushing for all mankind! 
 What tho' ambition shattered his pure faith, 
 Still from its crevices do flowers spring, 
 And o'er the desert waste an influence fling. 
 He loves his mother, and her Godlike faith. 
 It must come back to him, thro' life and death, 
 Nor can he spurn us when we plead for one 
 Baptized with him, our Holy Mother's Son! 
 
 Enter Annie Surratt, who runs to her mother and kisses her. 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 Kiss me again, sweet mother dear. O mother, 
 Such a dream as I had last night! 
 'Twas but a dream, but O so terrible! 
 Methought some soldiers dragged you to a cell, 
 Where vermin crawl'd about your precious form, 
 And all the while they mocked you for your faith ; 
 Then loaded you with chains, and then — O God ! 
 A dismal scaffold rose up to my view, 
 To which you tottered with a crucifix, 
 Oft kissing it and bathing with your tears. 
 Good Father Walters, too, was at your side, 
 Sustained your tottering step and comfort gave. 
 I shrieked and woke. Kiss me again, sweet mother! 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Our stomachs, overgorged, may nightmares breed 
 More numerous than the mares of Thessaly; 
 Yet dreams, my child, do sometimes come to pass ; 
 Prophets and priests have often been forewarned ; 
 While dreams ran up and down on Jacob's ladder. 
 Warned by a dream, St. Joseph took the child 
 And fled with him to Egypt, that same land 
 Where Joseph plucked from Pharoaoh's mystic dream 
 The coming corn to stay the direful famine. 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 Ah, yes; and in that very dream to Joseph given 
 A gibbet rose to view, such as I saw. 
 
 [66] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 The very mornings of this world are sad, 
 And come to us each day subdued by tears, 
 As a sweet mother gazing on her prodigals. 
 The very crosses on our foreheads, child, 
 Draw blood, and hence those ashes to remind us, 
 Traced by our mother church — Ash Wednesday. 
 What wonder, then, if you and I should suffer? 
 Suffering must come, but dreams can never bring them. 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 mother, what I saw was real ; 
 
 No language could express it ; it was real. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 More dreams, my child, than moons have been fulfilled; 
 
 But prophets only, such as Joseph was, 
 
 Can pluck the beard of coming Time ere yet 
 
 The morning wets it with her tears, or hold 
 
 Him to account while in the bosom of his God, 
 
 Cheer up ; forget it all ; 'twas but a dream — 
 
 Some fairy fancy tickling with a straw 
 
 And playing on the tendrils of your heart! 
 
 Why do you weep — ha! ha! ha! — you little goose? 
 
 Go, get your wrapping; we are late for Mass. 
 
 ANNIE (going, returns). 
 
 One moment more; I had another dream; 
 
 1 thought that Lilly, pale and sad, 
 
 Stood moaning by the sea with J. Wilkes Booth. 
 
 Some soldiers fired, and her brother fell. 
 
 Booth clasped her in his arms, and all was silent, 
 
 Silent as death ; the very air stood still. 
 
 Then a ghost rose — her brother's ghost. 
 
 Ah, me ! it was a horrid sight — most horrible ! 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 How strange! 'Tis more than strange! 'Tis wonderful! 
 For Lilly's history, to her unknown} — 
 Her brother's, too — it seems prophetical. 
 
 [67] 
 
 Exit. 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 The very winds are ever full of prophecies, 
 And God asserts himself in every breeze, 
 As well as in the thunderstorm; 
 But most of all doth He delight to dwell 
 In human hearts by suffering sanctified. 
 Then give me sufferings and make this heart 
 An humble palace for the Prince of Peace! 
 
 Enter John Surratt, excited. 
 
 JOHN SURRATT. 
 
 Well, mother, I have the whole plot complete. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Plot? 
 
 JOHN SURRATT. 
 
 Yes, plot; no plot in the graveyard, mother; 
 No plot to burn the Capitol ; no villainy ; 
 But simply (if you please to call it so) 
 A purpose, and a good one, too — a plan 
 To seize the President and take him South. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Oh ! oh ! for Heaven's sake, my son, desist ; 
 'Twould cost your life. O listen to your mother! 
 
 JOHN SURRATT. 
 
 'Twas ever thus: "Oh!" "oh!" "aw!" "aw!" 
 Whenever fortune beckons me and bids me move, 
 You interpose "Aw!" "oh!" What splendid reasoning! 
 Then, not convincing me, you run to church 
 And thwart me by your prayers; they always balk me, 
 Drive me back, and turn my hopes to ashes! 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Well, son, your mother may be a great fool ; 
 
 But fools can sometimes give advice, 
 
 And if ever my prayers prevailed in Heaven 
 
 To thwart your purpose, Heaven is foolish, too. 
 
 [68] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 JOHN SURRATT. 
 
 I don't mean that. Our plan is simply this: 
 To seize the President, but not to harm him ; 
 To take him prisoner of war and save the South. 
 All has been arranged, and I must do my part; 
 But promise you this, mother, to shed no blood. 
 To seize the Presidet and keep him safe ; 
 And this I will do, cost what it may. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 A woman's reasoning, fruitless as her tears! 
 
 But not so vain, a weeping mother's prayers; 
 
 They must prevail, for God hath wedded here 
 
 (Hand on her heart) Eternal sentiments of love and prayer. 
 
 A mother's love, a mother's prayers were given 
 
 To plead, like angels, at the gate of Heaven! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Enter Annie, Lilly following her from the stage. 
 SCENE III — President's Mansion — Lincoln alone, reading alone. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 I would rather split rails in Illinois 
 
 For fifty cents a day than run this Government ; 
 
 For who can tell, in these great waves of state, 
 
 As brand-new questions press him to the chin, 
 
 Where the next step might sink him ? 
 
 Now, when I practiced law out West, 
 
 The judge and jury always took a part ; 
 
 But here, as President, I stand alone; 
 
 For cabinets and councilors are nothing. 
 
 Great causes were entrusted to me then, 
 
 Partly because I knew some law, but more 
 
 (As country people often have expressed it) 
 
 Because "Old Abe could never be bought off." 
 
 But there's one bribe, and only one, that tempts me — 
 
 That's when a poor mother pleads with her tears; 
 
 For when I read the wrinkles of her face, 
 
 That book of books, telling its mournful tale, 
 
 [69] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 My own dear mother rises from the ground. 
 By Heavens ! she always turns me to a baby. 
 I was her first and only child and do believe 
 I'll be a baby to the last! My mother's booby! 
 A President should be made of better grit, 
 And I was never fit for such an office. 
 
 Enter Page. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 That fisherman, Your Excellence, whom 
 You saw last evening. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Bring him in. 
 
 Enter Baker. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Our office, please Your Excellence, is delicate, 
 
 And you have charged us never to arrest 
 
 In doubtful cases. Now, one of your friends, 
 
 Whom we have often seen in these apartments, 
 
 Is either crazy or your direst foe. 
 
 We found him in the streets last night ; a dagger 
 
 Oft fie brandished in the air and cursed you bitterly. 
 
 'Twas Booth, the actor, coming now to see you, 
 
 And I hastened up to put you on your guard. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 don't mind him. He was only acting tragedy. 
 True, he's a Rebel, for he tells me so ; 
 
 But men who talk loudly are never dangerous. 
 Now, when a Rebel tries to lead the crowd 
 
 1 slap the law upon him quick as lightning; 
 And that's the way I snatched Vallandingham ; 
 But men like Booth — mere talkers — do no harm. 
 My motto from the first has been, 
 
 "Malice to none, but charity for all.'* 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Well, Your Excellence, I've nothing more to say. 
 
 [70] 
 
 Exit. 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Well, certain it is that I have done my best. 
 
 In cases of doubt, I lean to mercy's side, 
 
 That, when I come to die, mercy may lean to me; 
 
 But when I know the law, laid down in precedent. 
 
 Or growing up from roots of truth and justice, 
 
 I'll execute it, certain as a gun! 
 
 Reading. 
 Now here's a brand-new case — Lieutenant Beall's. 
 Captured with letters of marque and reprisal, 
 He claims that they protect him in our lines ; 
 But whether such letters hold on the lakes 
 (Even if our lakes are great inland seas) 
 As well as on the ocean, "that is the question/' 
 If on the lakes, then on the rivers, too ; 
 If on the rivers, then within our lines; 
 And so a spy, covered up by fool's cap, 
 Might claim exemption and demand exchange. 
 
 Enter Booth — Lincoln shakes hands. 
 Why, Booth, can you afford to play all night, 
 And then get up before the chickens? 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Thus early do I come, Your Excellence, 
 
 To plead for justice and Lieutenant Beall. 
 
 Glow-worms are not so plentiful of late, 
 
 And he who hopes to find them must rise early. 
 
 Resplendent do they sparkle on the robes of night, 
 
 But hide their radiance from the garish day ; 
 
 So Justice shines, perhaps, in other lands, 
 
 But in this land of light 'tis rarely found. 
 
 Preachers are plentiful and piety a drug; 
 
 But even-handed Justice, where is she? 
 
 Scarcer than glow-worms, muffling up their faces! 
 
 Or, since you speak of chickens, "scarcer than hens' teeth" ; 
 
 And yet she sometimes springs forth like a serpent. 
 
 Clutching his dagger. 
 
 Th' avenging Nemesis may be at hand. 
 Rome had a Brutus, England a Cromwell. 
 Mark my words! 
 
 [71] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 LINCOLN {exposing his bosom). 
 
 Well, Booth, that reminds me of a coon hunt 
 
 That I once had in Illinois. Jim Douglas, 
 
 Cousin, you know, to Stephen Douglas — not Fred ; 
 
 O no, not Fred ; I never hunt with him ; 
 
 He clomb a tree where we had treed the coon, 
 
 And crawled out on a limb to catch him. 
 
 What did the coon do but make a dash at Douglas. 
 
 Under the limb he went, and the coon passed, 
 
 As Jim would say when he played poker. 
 
 Now, cypress limbs, you know, are very slick, 
 
 And Jim could never get on top again. 
 
 He tried hard to chin it — full thirty feet 
 
 Above the ground — ha! ha! ha! — and, giving up at last, cried out 
 
 "Hold the dogs, Abe, for God sake's hold the dogs!" 
 
 But could I hold some twenty dogs or more? 
 
 So down he fell, and the dogs piled on him — ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Now, Booth, if I should pardon everybody, 
 
 The dogs would pile on me. But there's no coon 
 
 That ever scared me yet. I'll keep on top o' the limb. 
 
 Exposing his bosom. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 O the hard-hearted villain! One argument, 
 
 {Clutches dagger.) 
 
 And only one, can reach him ; 
 But that must be the last! 
 
 To Lincoln. 
 Letters of marque and reprisal should protect him, 
 And in the name of Justice I demand his pardon! 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 'Pon my word I'm sorry for the young man ; 
 
 But, Booth, you don't know what I have to contend with 
 
 Nor my responsibilities. 
 
 BOOTH {clutching dagger). 
 Then I suppose he dies tomorrow? 
 
 [72] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 LINCOLN {exposing his bosom). 
 
 Yes; for in my heart, true to this great country, 
 I can find no place for pardon. 
 
 BOOTH {aside). 
 
 I'll try once more. 
 
 What if you yourself were on the scaffold, 
 Condemned unjustly to a cruel death? 
 Suppose 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 The fact is, if the sentence was unjust, 
 
 And I could see it in that light, I'd pardon him ; 
 
 But, as you say in Hamlet, "that is the question." 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Hear me once more. When I was playing Richelieu, 
 You swore that I had taught you statesmanship ; 
 And when I played Piscara the Apostate, 
 You promised me whatever I might ask. 
 Beall is my bosom friend, and has a sister, 
 Weeping, praying, almost dying of her grief ; 
 He stands between us, hinged upon this breast, 
 And, like the lintel of some fair palace door, 
 She meets him ever and her kisses bring 
 
 LINCOLN {interrupting him). 
 
 That kind of talk, Booth, always reminds me 
 
 Of a small ear of corn in a big shuck ; 
 
 And if you expect my lip to hang down like it, 
 
 Then you mistake the stalk. 
 
 Old Davy Crockett was the man for me. 
 
 His motto was : 
 
 "Be sure you're right, then go ahead." 
 
 I'll tell you an anecodote about old Davy: 
 
 'Twas said, you know, that he could grin a coon down 
 
 From the tallest tree in wild-cat bottom. 
 
 So another chap, he tried to cry one down, 
 
 But he didn't. Now, I'm like those coons; 
 
 As long as I do right, they can't cry me down ; 
 
 No, nor grin me down neither. They may make faces; 
 
 [73] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Call me babboon ; old fool, or what they please ; 
 
 But, as my old mother used to say, 
 
 Abram, do right and the whole world can't hurt you! 
 
 But, Booth, as I said before, if I knew 
 
 The sentence to be unjust, I'd pardon him. 
 
 BOOTH (scornfully). 
 
 If you knew the sentence to be unjust? 
 
 Rather say, if I did know it to be just, 
 
 Then would I summons every man-of-war 
 
 And every monitor that rides the wave, 
 
 That they should thunder to the clouds 
 
 And shake this continent, or save him ! 
 
 (Scornfully) "If you knew the sentence to be unjust!" 
 
 Then know another sentence to be just ! 
 
 Advances towards him with dagger clutched. 
 And learn that Nature, sovereign from her birth, 
 And all her children, sovereign from their birth, 
 Disdain and spit upon an unjust government. 
 With thunder Hath she clad the patriot's arm, 
 
 And mine (Advancing.) 
 
 Enter little Tad, kissing his father. 
 
 TAD. 
 
 O papa, I had a dreadful dream last night ! 
 'Twas awful ! awful ! O 'twas awful ! 
 
 BOOTH (aside). 
 
 Angels and saints do walk about this world, 
 And take ten thousand forms to shape our lives! 
 Men are but children, children in disguise ; 
 We need our nurses till we reach the skies. 
 
 Exit. 
 Enter Madame Surratt and Lilly. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Behold the sister of Lieutenant Beall, 
 Condemned, Your Excellence, to die tomorrow. 
 His poor old mother, too, is on her knees 
 Imploring Heaven to bless Your Excellence 
 And spare her boy. 
 
 [74] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 LILLY (kneeling). 
 
 O spare my brother, good, kind sir. 
 
 spare him for his mother's sake; 
 For mine ! O spare him ! spare him ! 
 
 LINCOLN (aside). 
 
 The very name of mother makes a child of me. 
 
 Wiping his eyes. 
 And I hate to look like a fool. 
 Ladies, you must excuse me for a moment. 
 
 HI eh!— Ill eh! 
 
 Madame Surratt falls at his feet. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Behold in me, good sir, the poor boy's mother; 
 Your mother, too, will bless you from the skies ! 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Pray don't leave us; say, good sir, 
 
 Say you will pardon him! Do, kind sir, 
 
 For me — my mother's, your mother's, sake! 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 1 will ; I pardon him. Go tell his mother. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Thanks! thanks; ten thousand thanks! 
 May Heaven bless Your Excellence ! 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Go, child, and be a good girl ; for women, 
 Say what you will about their weakness, 
 Do leave, in sending out great armies to the world, 
 A something in the heart of every man, — 
 To which, as boatmen say out West, 
 
 '"Twill do to tie to! ,f Ha! ha! ha! Aside. 
 
 And they know damned well how to fix the ropes! Ha! Ha! 
 (To ladies:) Now, go home and use your power with discre- 
 tion; 
 For power you have, although you may not know it. 
 
 [75] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Yes, every home is but a miniature of State, 
 
 And woman there, tho' dressed in homespun checks, 
 
 Is God's own angel, sent to guard the gate, 
 
 Ah, yes; I know and well remember one — 
 
 My mother — more than all the world to me, 
 
 And tho' her destiny was obscure, 
 
 Her grave forgot, without a stone to mark 
 
 That lowly bed, yet still she rules the State ; 
 
 Great armies do her bidding ; and her mercy 
 
 Falls today on you, my child ! 
 
 But, ladies, you'll excuse me now, 
 
 For I must write the pardon. 
 
 Exeunt, except Lincoln — Writes the pardon. 
 Yes, woman's mission is indeed sublime. 
 Tho' self-approving man may thumb his pits, 
 And ape the peacock when he spreads his tail, 
 Yet woman, less obtrusive, guides his feet ; 
 For woman at the cradle rocks the world, 
 And plants with every lullaby some germ 
 To ripen for the future man — his plow 
 To guide, to rule the Senate by his tongue, 
 Or plant on flaming battlements his banner ; 
 'Tis hers to teach in every sphere ; her tears 
 Have won great battles and her frown subdued 
 The mightiest kings, while, more than these, 
 Her smile lights up the ruins of a fallen world ; 
 Her prayers, more potent still, can burst 
 The gates of Heaven and climb the throne of God! 
 Patient in grief, in fortitude sublime. 
 When man becomes the weaker vessel and despairs, 
 She hooks him from the billow with her faith, 
 Puts back his drowning locks and points him to the stars! 
 
 Enter Seivard. 
 Seward, I wish I was out of this business. 
 I'd rather plow, split rails, or keep a doggery. 
 Anything, by Heaven, is better than President! 
 Jeff. Davis and his crew keep up this fight, 
 But I'd make peace tomorrow if I could. 
 
 SEWARD. 
 
 Would you allow secession, Mr. President? 
 
 [76] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 No; I don't mean that. I'd sink every ship 
 That floats our flag upon the waves, 
 Bury our last army with its banners, 
 And then go down into the gulf myself, 
 Or save this Union ! 
 
 SEWARD. 
 
 What, then, is the trouble? 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 These women bother me — sisters and mothers. 
 By Heaven ! Seward, I can't see a woman cry. 
 Your heart is cold as ice; but mine wilts 
 Whenever I see a mother in distress. 
 
 Wipes his eyes. 
 They have all been pleading here for that young Beall, 
 And I have pardoned him. 
 
 SEWARD. 
 
 Impossible! You cannot, must not, pardon him. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Handing pardon. 
 Well, there 't is; I have pardoned him already. 
 Give it to Stanton ; he will send it forward, 
 I take the responsibility. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 SEWARD. 
 
 I, too, will take responsibility. 
 
 Your woman's heart would rend this Union thus. 
 
 Tears up the pardon. 
 Enter Wilkes Booth. 
 BOOTH. 
 
 I come to thank His Excellence and you 
 
 For your gracious pardon of Lieutenant Beall. 
 
 It brings me back once more to happier thoughts, 
 
 And stifles in my heart a dreadful purpose ; 
 
 For this one act of justice to my friend 
 
 Presages justice to my native land. 
 
 Upon my soul, I thank ye both most heartily! 
 
 [77] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SEWARD. 
 
 The pardon is revoked — I would not have it — 
 And the felon dies tomorrow. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Villain, you lie! He is no felon, 
 
 Seizes Seward, shaking him violently. 
 But a soldier, every inch ; thou the felon ; 
 Your own sons felons, to be dragged ere long 
 Before their country's bar for peculation; 
 That George, your model thief, and Fred, 
 Spawned from the same serpent. O I would tear you 
 Limb from limb to save my suffering friend — 
 A man, a soldier, born to be your master. 
 Cold-hearted villain, go! 
 
 Hurls him off. 
 Exeunt. 
 
 [78] 
 
ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I — Scene near the fort on Governor s Island — New 
 
 York — Night — Thunder and lightning — Enter Booth. 
 Mysterious powers, whose lightning spurs drive on 
 TV unsaddled winds, whose plumes of light touch Heaven, 
 But vanish ere our tongues can bid ye halt, 
 If ever ye to mortals in distress stoop down — 
 To shipwrecked mariner or to hearts more wrecked — 
 To bring them Heaven's pitying love, or covenants 
 From Hell to make a compact for their souls, 
 Behold in me your vassal thro' all time 
 For this one benison — to burst yon gates 
 And guide me to the dungeon of my friend. 
 
 Enter John Brown s ghost. 
 
 BROWN. 
 
 That's a bargain ; give us your bone, old boy ; 
 
 Don't try that gate, but come along with me. 
 
 I know a sentinel — a poor, soft fool — 
 
 In love with a girl down South. Just talk your nonsense 
 
 For awhile to him and he'll let you pass ; 
 
 But Yanks, you know, mean business when they trade. 
 
 Then swear by every sacred thing in Heaven 
 
 To ratify this bargain for your soul. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Aye, Heaven and earth I barter. Lead me on! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II — Sentinel pacing at door of prison. 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Halt! Enter Booth. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Soldier, I have a friend imprisoned here. 
 He dies tomorrow, and I come to bear 
 His dying message to his home. 
 
 [79] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 My orders are most positive ; you cannot. 
 
 BOOTH {giving pocketbook) . 
 
 Then this is yours ; 'tis all I have on earth ; 
 Checks well endorsed and on your greatest banks; 
 'Twill make you rich and bless your friends! 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 No ; not for all the money in New York. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Soldier, were you once dandled on a father's knee? 
 Perhaps a sister graced your happy home. 
 My friend's poor sister now, by yonder wave, 
 Is weeping, praying, dying of her grief ; 
 And you will let me pass to speak one word. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 My orders are most positive; you cannot. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Soldier, have you a mother, brother, child ? 
 Hast any friend or home, wife or betrothed, 
 To whom your soul in death would turn ? 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Nor wife, nor children, scarce a friend on earth ; 
 Perhaps one heart, but only one, regards me. 
 That one far away and in the ruined South. 
 My poor mother pined away and died 
 When I was wounded at Manassas Junction, 
 Or, rather, died embracing me when I returned; 
 And never while life lasts can I forget 
 A Rebel enemy who passed me through their lines, 
 T' embrace that mother on the bed of death. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Behold in me a pilgrim from that land, 
 Whose generous son was thus your friend ! 
 
 [80] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Dying, you say, she pressed you to her heart, 
 
 To that same breast on which your cheek reclined, 
 
 Dimpled and painted by the life she gave. 
 
 Soldier, suppose that you were doomed to die, 
 
 And that a comrade came the night before 
 
 To bear your dying message to that mother. 
 
 Take this with all — a fortune in your grasp ! 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Take back your purse; I would not have it; pass. 
 This very night the watchword is "Manassas!" 
 
 Walks off. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 O generous Nature, thou didst urge my prayer, 
 
 And rugged hearts, whose adamantine walls 
 
 Had scorned the thunder from a thousand battlements, 
 
 Grow weak as infancy at thy sweet voice ! £ -^ 
 
 SCENE III — BealVs prison — Beall sleeping — Enter Booth. 
 
 O generous Nature, here we meet again, 
 
 For thou dost soothe and hold him to thy heart ; 
 
 Sweet mother of us all, keep horrid dreams, 
 
 And the dread to come, far from his lonely pillow ; 
 
 O nerve him for the conflict ; and his soul 
 
 Cast in thy noblest and most generous mold, 
 
 O gently lead it to the sacrifice! 
 
 No flowers to deck the victims brow ; but Fame 
 
 Shall hang her golden locks about his temples, 
 
 While beauty, far away, in Southern clime, 
 
 Shall render tears unbidden to his name ; 
 
 And e'en the generous foeman shall exclaim, 
 
 "Alas ! for so much manly beauty lost, 
 
 "Such bravery and worth to perish in the storm!" 
 
 See! see! he smiles. 
 
 BEALL. 
 
 Laughing in sleep. 
 
 Run, children, run to the other side. 
 
 Come, Lilly, let me see — O you little rogue, 
 
 You've slipped the bandage from your eye. T 
 
 Laughs. 
 
 [81] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 'Tis blind-man's buff. He plays it with his sister, 
 And dreams have borne him back to childhood's shore. 
 How strangely do they mix our lives! 
 Now roses mount upon his pallid cheek, 
 Like flowers that hang upon a precipice, 
 Unconscious of the gulf beneath. See! see! 
 
 Beall starts and trembles. 
 Some great o'ermastering thought convulses him ; 
 Perhaps the gibbet rises to his view; 
 I'll call him from the dreadful dream. 
 
 BEALL. 
 
 Run, children, run ; th' Indians are coming down. 
 I see Tecumsie with ten thousand braves; 
 
 run, my pretty Lilly — run! run! run! 
 I'll hold them back until you reach the barn ! 
 Back! back! you painted villains — back, I say! 
 
 Springing from his couch, grappling for his sword. 
 Where — where is my sword ? 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Your sword, brave boy, surrendered to the foe, 
 Now leaves you quite defenseless ; take this dagger ! 
 
 Throws cloak over him. 
 
 BEALL. 
 
 Why, Booth! how came you here? 
 
 Embracing him. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 1 come to take your place; have won the guard. 
 The password is "Manassas." Take this dagger, fly ; 
 For I would kiss the bony cheeks of Death 
 
 To give you back once more to life and liberty. 
 
 BEALL. 
 
 Et tu Brute! And has it come to this ? 
 Am I so poor, so fallen in your esteem! 
 What, skulk from death and leave my friend to die ? 
 
 [82] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Forgive me — no— 'tis only for a moment — fly! 
 Go meet your sister, weeping in yon cove, 
 Close to the rock and nearest to the wave. 
 Be quick and go, for you can soon return ; 
 Her lantern rocks on yonder dancing boat, 
 To guide your feet and beckons you to come. 
 
 BEALL. 
 
 Ten thousand thanks, my good, brave friend ! 
 That will I do ; keep ward 'till my return, 
 And prove yourself a soldier at my post. 
 Once more liberty — to the fresh air and skies, 
 To thee, sweet Lilly, for one parting word ! 
 One message to my home, then all farewell ! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 The last of Paradise for him on earth ! 
 'Twas a great folly so to wound his soul ; 
 And yet, to take his place and bid them fire, 
 Had been Ambition's loftiest pinnacle, 
 My heart's supreme delight. But let it pass; 
 The future still is mine, and they shall know it, 
 For I will strike them in their lecherous beds, 
 Or midst their revelries and pleasures smiling; 
 With all their sins full cankered to the green ; 
 To start a wrinkle on the nose of Hell ! 
 
 SCENE IV — On seashore — Lilly with lantern by a shed and 
 great rocks — Boat anchored. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 O I do tremble so ! Perhaps those signs 
 
 In Heaven and earth which fright the chirping birds 
 
 And moaning beasts just ere an earthquake's shock 
 
 Are given to human souls before calamity! 
 
 But let it come — earthquake, tempest — I 
 
 Have cast in Heaven the anchor of my bark. 
 
 In Heaven shall find it opened to a cross, 
 
 There twined wi' flowers and brighter than the sun ! 
 
 [83] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Yet, O he was so brave and manly beautiful, 
 
 So far above the common sort of men, 
 
 That when he passed all hearts did give him reverence; 
 
 Such gentleness and power in concert joined, 
 
 Such majesty in one exalted mind, 
 
 He seemed an angel stooping to mankind! 
 
 Heavens! joy! joy! But do I dream? 'Tis he, 'tis he! 
 
 Enter Lieutenant Beall — Flies to his arms, weeping 
 But how is this? Your pardon was revoked! 
 
 Kisses her. 
 
 BEALL. 
 
 Alas! no pardon granted me. I come, 
 Paroled in honor by a generous friend, 
 To send a parting message to our home, 
 And first to her, my mother. O my mother! 
 Kiss me again ! Tell her that I died a soldier. 
 O tell her, for her bruised heart's consolation, 
 That with all my waywardness no mortal sin 
 Was left unshriven on my parting soul ; 
 That never did I shed one drop of blood 
 But in the fair and open field of war. 
 To my superiors have obedient been, 
 And condescending to the poorest soldier; 
 To prisoners in my power was always kind — 
 More gentle to the fallen foe than friends; 
 Surrendered when no valor could avail, 
 And died, at last, as she would have me die! 
 
 Taking locket from his neck. 
 This give to her whose precious name it bears, 
 And say that I will wear her image in my soul. 
 
 Kisses her, parting. 
 Farewell forever, love! Lilly swoons. 
 
 Farewell, farewell! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Recovering. 
 Gone, gone ; O never to return ; gone, gone ! 
 Ye Heavens, let your loudest thunders peal! 
 In thunders, O ye saints — thou Queen of Heaven, 
 O plead with God that He may strike them down ; 
 Plead that von sun m2y never rise again, 
 
 [84] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Too glorious signal for a deed so foul! 
 Let darkness swallow Heaven and earth, 
 While Calvary groans again and angels weep! 
 
 Kneels. 
 Enter Booth. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Come, Lilly, we must hasten from this place. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 In such an hour as this, I dare not stir. 
 Down, down upon your knees! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Your brother sends by me his last request ; 
 'Tis that you hasten from this place. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 O tell me his sweet words — speak them again. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Aside. 
 
 Should she remain and hear the signal gun, 
 
 'Twould drive her to madness. Let me try once more! 
 
 To Lilly. 
 My life is now at stake and we must fly ; 
 The baited dogs are on my track — come, come! 
 
 Seizes her hand, when she snatches away and runs up the rocks. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 See, see, the sun is rising 
 
 Covers her eyes — Dead March in the distance — Long silence — 
 Signal gun fires — Booth supports her — BealVs ghost in Con- 
 federate uniform — Blood on his face. 
 
 LILLY (as Ophelia). 
 
 I knew that you would come to me again, 
 
 You pretty bloodhound! Come, come, catch the fox! 
 
 Foxes have holes and birds have nests — ha! ha! ha! 
 
 And we poor Southern birds* — come, let's fly. 
 
 The mocking-birds await us and magnolias throw 
 
 [85] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Their censers up to Heaven — ha! ha! ha! 
 Those grand old priests, in temples of the sun ! 
 Come, come, my love, go home! go home! go home! 
 
 Weeps — Kneels to Beall — Booth weeping. 
 Don't stay from mama, boy; home! home! home! 
 
 SCENE V — Confederate camp — Moonlight— Enter BealYs 
 
 ghost. 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 Once more my spirit walks Virginia's hills, 
 Once more thy voices, O my native land, 
 More musical than waves, and winds salute me! 
 Ye warblers of the night, sweet mocking-birds, 
 Long had I lost your melodies, unknown 
 To yonder frozen clime; but now we meet again; 
 Ye whipporwills, my childhood's wonder, hail ! 
 Sing on, O sing a requiem to the past. 
 Hail, hail, Confederate camp! Ye heroes, hail! 
 My tentless comrades, sleeping on the ground ; 
 Undaunted Lee, a falling nation's pride! 
 Confederate arms, still gleaming unsubdued, 
 My native land, ye hills and mountains, hail! Exit. 
 
 Enter lame Confederate sentinel. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 I'd rather fight all day than keep this watch; 
 What if I fall asleep, they could but shoot me. 
 No, by Jupiter, I'll be a soldier to the last; 
 But my wound pains me ; let me ride this log. 
 
 Straddles a log. 
 Who goes there! Halt! halt! 
 
 VOICE. 
 
 Hello, Johnny Reb, will you give me some tobacco for a drink? 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Yes, if you'll tote fair — come in. 
 
 Enter Union scout. 
 
 SCOUT. 
 
 Do you fellows get anything to eat down here ? 
 
 [86] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 Yes, plenty of it. Where's your whisky? 
 
 SCOUT. 
 
 Here. 
 
 Gives canteen and sentinel drinks. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 That's what old Stonewall used to take from Banks. 
 
 Gives it. 
 Drinks again. 
 
 Here's your tobacco. 
 Now go. 
 
 SCOUT. 
 
 Going. 
 
 And you go to sleep, you damned old Reb. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Hold on ; what's your hurry? 
 
 SCOUT. 
 
 I have to travel twenty miles before daylight. 
 Good-night, good-night. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 By Jupiter, he' a good soldier; 
 
 That's the kind of powder I like to smell. 
 
 Drinks again. 
 
 Smells. 
 
 It makes me feel good all over — ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Drinks — Business — Stretches out and sleeps. 
 Enter ghost of Be all. 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 O that this hollow tree of spirit life 
 Could put once more its antlered branches on, 
 Then would I make them knock at Heaven's gate 
 To call sweet mercy down to my poor sister. 
 How did she flutter, like a bird upon the ground 
 Smit by the gun that told my doom. Exit. 
 
 Enter Captain Powell. 
 
 [87] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 POWELL. 
 What, soldier, sleeping at your post? 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Staggering. 
 Why, Captain Powell — Thornton Powell — yes. 
 Well, Cap., you see how it is — my leg hurts me ; 
 I was wounded, you know, at Fredericksburg, 
 And it got so stiff that I had to lie down. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Your legs both seem limber enough now. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Now, none of your game — now Cap. — now Thornton/ — 
 Thor — Thor — Thornton Powell, I'm your friend, 
 And if you have me shot — ha! ha! ha! 
 You'll disgrace our family. Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 You're too brave a soldier to be shot ; 
 Go; I'll not report you; go back to camp 
 And let me take your watch. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Going. 
 That's all right — ha! ha! ha! O you're the soldier for me. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 Staggers back. 
 Let me tell you, Captain, either I saw 
 Lieutenant Beall tonight or dreamt it. 
 He came up in Confederate gray, a rope 
 Around his neck, and talked about his sister. 
 Cap., I do believe he was drunk — ha! ha! ha! 
 Dream or reality — it makes me skittish — ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Whistles — Looks down road — Exit. 
 Damn'd if I'm afraid of ghosts. 
 
 Whistles Dixie. 
 
 [38 1 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Alas! it might be true, for he was captured, 
 
 And the villains may have shot him, 
 
 Hanged him, for aught we know — infernal thieves! 
 
 But, as the world goes nowadays, 'tis questioned 
 
 Whether they who live or they who die are happiest. 
 
 Re-enter drunken soldier. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Go, go to camp! 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Well, Cap., I came back to tell you: Now, Cap., 
 
 I'm not so drunk, for down in yonder shade, 
 
 In the white blossoms of a dogwood tree, 
 
 That same gray form appeared; and, more than that, 
 
 A Yankee scout was here tonight, 
 
 And I came back to put you on your guard. 
 
 The Villain might be prowling for your scalp. 
 
 Good night — O I am not afraid of ghosts! 
 
 Whistles and staggers off. 
 Exit. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 The full, round orb of yon descending moon 
 
 Looks down upon the grave of Stonewall Jackson ; 
 
 Perhaps the grave of these Confederate States. 
 
 Hark, the sad notes of the lonely whippoorwill ! 
 
 Like some sweet poet of the Sunny South, 
 
 He flings himself despairing on the ground 
 
 To sing thy requiem. O my native land ! 
 
 The very air seems heavy and I sometimes think 
 
 That we mysterious mortals leap the wall, 
 
 Reared by a jealous future, 'gainst our noses. 
 
 For aught I know, the universe itself, 
 
 All peopled and piled up, looks down upon us, 
 
 As does the audience of a great theater, 
 
 Which tears out one wall from every edifice 
 
 To peep in on our most domestic scenes. 
 
 For aught I know, spirits might robe themselves 
 
 When great events come trooping on the heels of time. 
 
 Who goes there! Halt! halt! 'Twas like a man, 
 
 [89] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Yet vanished in an instant; and, by Heaven, 
 'Twas very like some one whom I have seen ! 
 "In such a place, in such an hour as this, 
 "Descending spirits have conversed with men 
 "And told the secrets of the dread unknown." 
 See! see! It comes again! Halt, soldier, halt! 
 But one step more and on thy peril — halt ! 
 
 Ghost waves him back. 
 It halts, but seems to motion with its hand, 
 As tho* 'twould bid me hold my fire — then speak! 
 
 Ghost advances. 
 Whate'er thou art, if sentinel or spy, 
 Whether messenger from Heaven or Hell, , 
 Whate'er thy mission, spy or devil — halt! 
 
 Fires. 
 Yet there it stands — stone still — struck by my ball; 
 For blood comes oozing from its gray Confederate coat — 
 Blotches of blood on that familiar face ! 
 Would God I had not fired! Speak, soldier, speak! 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 When nations fall their crash wakes up the dead, 
 
 And I have left my grave for a short term 
 
 To walk my native hills, and on the crumbling edge 
 
 Of these Confederate States, a crater vast, 
 
 Would point you to a gulf most horrible. 
 
 Ere yet yon moon proclaim the paschal feast, 
 
 And on the day that Christ was crucified, 
 
 The powers of Hell shall blacken all this land ; 
 
 For dignitaries great shall roll in blood. 
 
 While Ruin drives her ebon car abroad, 
 
 Not womanhood, nor helpless age, 
 
 Nor infancy, can walk this world secure. 
 
 But ere that hour, I come to ask one boon, 
 
 The friendship of a soldier for a soldier's sister. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Whate'er thou wilt; my life is in thy hand; 
 
 But tell me, thou impalpable, august, 
 
 And most mysterious thing — say what thy name? 
 
 [90] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 And what the great event you prophesy? 
 What dignitaries they to roll in blood, 
 My friends or foes? 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 Both friends and foes, commingling in the storm, 
 Shall fly like leaves of autumn to yon Gulf 
 And leave both Federal and Confederate States 
 Beheaded and their trunks a gory mass, 
 Thrown at the foot of Calvary, on that day 
 Which saw the crucifixion. Ask no more. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 But tell me who art thou, and who thy sister? 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 1 was thy comrade — once Lieutenant Beall, 
 But now his helpless ghost, without my sword, 
 Or I would strike and strike them to the last ; 
 Disarmed, defenseless, prisoner of war, 
 Hanged in cold blood, in hearing of my sister, 
 Who by the signal gun was so afflicted 
 That reason tottered from its throne. Her mind, 
 That fairest palace of the world, fell down ; 
 And now a maniac, lost and wretched in her woe, 
 She seeks my grave and often calls for you. 
 Go, friend, console her, if you can, and Heaven 
 May graciously restore the fairest flower 
 That ever offered incense to the skies. 
 Farewell! farewell! 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Stay, stay. Where shall I find her ? Speak 1 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 Go to the tomb of Washington. His grave 
 She decks with flowers, and bids him make 
 A little room for me. Farewell ! farewell ! 
 
 [91] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Then all is lost ! 
 
 My home, my love, my country gone! 
 
 Heaven and earth, farewell! 
 
 Enter sentinel. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 What, soldier; no watchword? 
 You're a pretty sentinel. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 Stand to your watch, soldier. Good night, good night! 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 But I heard a gun fire hereabouts. 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 'Twas I that fired. Good night, good night! 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 But stay. What was it? Why did you fire? 
 
 POWELL. 
 
 'Twas very strange, a most prodigious thing; 
 'Twas monstrous, most astonishing! Good night! 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 By Hoakie, he must have seen a ghost, 
 For soldiers have told me — men of good faith — 
 That they had often seen old Stonewall Jackson 
 Walking among these tents, straight as an arrow 
 And looking very sad ; but his last words were, 
 "Let's cross over the river and rest in the shade" ; 
 So if the grand old Captain comes back now 
 He must have changed his mind. 
 
 Whmistles Dixie. 
 I'm not afraid of ghosts — no, not I. 
 
 Whistles. 
 There's no such thing as ghosts, but what our fancies make. 
 
 Whistles. 
 
 [92] 
 
MADAME SURRA T T 
 
 I'd rather fight a regiment than meet one. 
 
 Whistles. 
 What a cloud is rising — is it rain ? 
 
 Rain begins to fall. 
 Rain, rain, by Jubiter! It hides the moon. 
 O I'm not afraid, moonlight or dark. 
 Whoo — oo — oo — goes there? Halt! halt! 
 But b — b — bt what's the password ? 
 
 VOICE. 
 "By the waters of Babylon." 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Well, that 11 do ; come in out of the rain ; 
 But you are d — d slow a getting it up. 
 
 Enter General Lee. 
 What, General Lee? Why, General, I catch my breath. 
 A moment more and you, as Stonewall Jackson, 
 Would have fallen by your own soldier. 
 
 GEN. LEE. 
 
 Had it been so, perhaps it were as well. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 What, General, no bad news I trust! 
 
 GEN. LEE. 
 
 No ; but I have walked about the camp all night 
 
 And watched my tentless soldiers on the ground, 
 
 All worn and weary with incessant fight, 
 
 Tho' born to luxury, in beds of down. 
 
 Time hastens on^ and with tomorrow's sun 
 
 The last battle shall be lost or won. 
 
 Keep to your watch ; be ready for the fight ; 
 
 Perhaps we'll meet no more. Good night! good night! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 [93] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SCENE V\—Wood— Thunder and lightning— X ear Mt. Ver- 
 non~~-Enter Payne — Storms and lightning. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 No road, no path, no light but the storm's lightning. 
 
 Alas! how many nursed in downy beds, 
 
 In palaces and princely homes, now cry, 
 
 "No road, no path, no light but the storm's lightning!" 
 
 No voice to cheer them and no taper's ray, 
 
 With long and level beams, from home. 
 
 How many a boy with down upon his cheek 
 
 Stands sentinel tonight and braves this storm ! 
 
 Would God that I could lay me down ; 
 
 But I cannot — dare not — even now. 
 
 This war of Heaven may beat upon her head. 
 
 Mt. Vernon must be hereabout. Halloo! halloo! 
 
 Enter Beall's ghost — Payne drawing his sword. 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 Make haste to follow, for my time is short ; 
 
 One hour remains for me to walk this earth, 
 
 And then the fires of yonder coiled Heaven 
 
 Shall spit upon me with their sulphurous storms, 
 
 Till boyhood's follies and my grosser sins 
 
 Shall all be purged away. One hour remains ; 
 
 Then follow thou till this Confederate gray 
 
 Dissolves in morning light. Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VII — They go around the scenes — Mt. Vernon opens 
 and reveals Lilly scattering flowers and singing — Storm passed 
 and moon going down — Tableaux to suit the song. 
 
 LILLY beall (singing). 
 
 I. 
 
 Now an angel flies from the field of blood, 
 
 All glorious, to yonder mound ; 
 
 Mount Vernon groans; 'tis the great and the good, 
 
 Old Virginia's heroes around ; 
 
 Lee's father sheds a tear, while he smiles on his son, 
 
 And Stonewall is kneeling by a moss-covered gun, 
 
 And Freedom lies pale on the ground. 
 
 [94] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 II. 
 
 Yon moon sinks down over land and wave, 
 
 And the fallen lie cold in her beams; 
 
 Not a funeral gun-— no honors for the brave ; 
 
 But each brow with glory gleams ; 
 
 Nor the hooting of the owl over yonder hill, 
 
 Nor the melancholy song of the whippoorwill, 
 
 Can disturb their glorious dreams. 
 
 Whippoorwill, when sinks the day, 
 
 Whippoorwill, in your twilight gray, 
 
 Whippoorwill, when the hermits pray, 
 
 We'll pray for the souls far away. 
 
 Enter ghost and Powell. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 O my pretty boy, come home, come home! 
 And you, my pretty Powell, come home, come home. 
 As they approach, she etudes them, scattering flowers before 
 
 them. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 SCENE VII — Madame Surratt's house — Parlor — Enter John 
 Brown and Dr. Mary and hide under curtains — Booth stand- 
 ing by a window. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Standing at window. 
 'Tis now the midnight hour, and all abroad 
 Spirits of darkness beetle on the air, 
 Some to gay follies lead the thoughtless crowd, 
 And some go dancing down to dens of shame, 
 While other devils, older than the flood, 
 Sail out to dip their batlike wings in blood. 
 Avaunt, ye devils! leave me all alone. 
 With whom? Myself, a murderer! God forbid! 
 More than ten thousand times have I relented, 
 And, making up this cast, would fain have spared 
 That poor buffoon — worthiest of all his cabinet ; 
 For, like the thistle flower, true goodness wears 
 A regiment of spears to cry, "Hold off!" 
 And but for this I would have slain him thrice. 
 "If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well 
 
 [9S1 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 "It were done quickly. If the assassination 
 "Could trammel up the consequence, and catch, 
 "With his surcease, success — besides, this Duncan 
 "Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been 
 "So clear in his great office, that his virtues 
 "Will plead like angels, trumpet tongued, 'gainst 
 "The deep damnation of his taking off; 
 "And Pity, like a naked, new-born babe, 
 "Striding the blast, or Heaven's cherubim, horsed 
 "Upon the sightless couriers of the air, 
 Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye." 
 
 Enter John Brown s ghost, 
 
 JOHN BROWN. 
 
 Beware ! Beware ! 
 
 Aye, had I but sworn as you have sworn, 
 
 Nor Heaven, nor earth, nor Hell could hold me back, 
 
 Nor fright me from my purpose. 
 
 Had I but sworn to do't, 
 
 I'd pluck my gray-haired sire from the gate of Heaven 
 
 And drag him thro the sulphurous fumes of Hell, 
 
 Choking with brimstone firebrands the voice 
 
 That whilom called me son, still beating down 
 
 His withered hands, lest Heaven should heed his prayer. 
 
 You swore to me amidst the lightning's glare, 
 
 And Hell's deep cavern echoed back your vow! 
 
 That bargain for your soul was clinched in Hell, 
 
 And all the powers of Heaven did ratify. 
 
 My will, now thine, my bidding thou shalt do ; 
 
 Then go; prepare thee for thy sulphurous bed. 
 
 Put shards upon thee like the beetle's mail ; 
 
 Harden thy soul wi' crime; smear't wi' blood, 
 
 And so prepare thee for thy home of fire Exit. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Poor, helpless mortals we Once sunk to crime, 
 Down do we fall with devils in their slime. 
 And then grow palsied, helpless for all time! 
 What tho' we struggle back and cry, "Begone!" 
 They whisper to our souls, "March on, march on!" 
 
 Enter John Surratt, high-top boots and spattered with mud, 
 riding whip, and in rollicking mood. 
 
 [96] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Welcome, Surratt ; most welcome at this hour, 
 For I need your strong arm and desperate will. 
 
 SURRATT. 
 
 Well, Booth, I've found the very place to cage him, 
 Fit for a President and secret as the grave. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Well, what of it? Where? What then? 
 
 SURRATT. 
 
 Th' old Vanness Mansion, on the river bank. 
 
 South of the White House, garnished for the bird. 
 
 Its deep wine cellars make a lovely cage, 
 
 And three strong men could drag him to its doors. 
 
 Once being captured, we could hold him there 
 
 Till Mosby and his men came up the river bank. 
 
 O th' old gorilla — ha! ha! ha! What a splendid specimen- 
 
 ha! ha! ha! 
 How he himself would laugh at such a joke. 
 'Twould be a funny anecdote for him to tell 
 Jeff. Davis when we get to Richmond — ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 What if we put him in a cellar six feet long! 
 A coffin for his cage and worms for company! 
 
 SURRATT. 
 
 Great God! You're talking like a madman! Heavens! 
 Lincoln is not a bad man, though led by demagogues, 
 For he means well and has a good, kind heart. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Those purblind sisters, trundling at their wheel, 
 Have put the scissors to his navel chord. 
 You, too, must help them turn ; for, being in 
 And now suspected, how could you escape? 
 Go, throw away your catechism, boy. 
 Come, take to tragedy and be a man. 
 
 [97] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 There's something grand and beautiful in tragedy. 
 
 Think of it, John — just think — Good Friday, John. 
 
 Earth's greatest tragedy was acted on this day, 
 
 And the whole world repeats it to the sun, 
 
 On myriad altars rising to salute him! 
 
 O glorious tragedy, that cannot end 
 
 Till Heaven's lightnings set the stage on fire ; 
 
 Angels, and patriarchs, and saints for auditors, 
 
 And the Lamb slain stands up amid the falling stars, 
 
 King of all Kings and brighter than the sun. 
 
 that I, too, could act in such a play! 
 
 SURRATT. 
 
 In that play must we all act? 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Why, John, to kill a common man — a thing, 
 A President — that's a mere episode! 
 Go throw away your catechism, boy! 
 
 SURRATT. 
 
 1 love the South, but love still more 
 
 The catechism which my mother taught me ; 
 Nor less on this day, saddest of all days ! 
 True, I would take him prisoner of war ; 
 But further not a step will follow you. 
 Release me, then, and let me fly to Canada, 
 Not to betray you, for I scorn a traitor, 
 But t' escape your toils and save my life 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 You prattle like a child ; come, be a man ; 
 Give up your faith and strike for liberty. 
 
 SURRATT. 
 
 My faith? Ah, little do you understand it! 
 
 That unpretending, simple, childlike faith ! 
 
 It scatters blossoms even upon the grave 
 
 And robes the very air with immortality! 
 
 Bad as I am and foolish in my weakness, 
 
 To do ten thousand things, when suddenly assailed, 
 
 [98 1 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Which faith reproves and memory weeps upon. 
 
 Yet wilfully I would not yield one precept 
 
 Of the grand old faith my mother taught me 
 
 For yon Confederate States and all the world besides! 
 
 Exit. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 There's a divinity in that boy's dream 
 
 Which boastful reasons cannot emulate — 
 
 Inscrutable, mysterious, divine! 
 
 More splendid than the rainbow, tempest-born ; 
 
 Born of the sun, begot in falling tears, 
 
 In tears that fell about the gate of Paradise — 
 
 On Calvary — alas! wherever man sojourns! 
 
 The rainbow, but a symbol of that dream, 
 
 For aught I know, the shadow of that faith. 
 
 O that I could fling these knotted serpents 
 
 Up to the stars or down to Hell ! 
 
 Could I but see their fiery flakes 
 
 All trailing down the sky, 
 
 Then would I run to Calvary and cling 
 
 To God ; but that is past and all is lost ! lost ! lost ! 
 
 Window curtains drop and conceal him — John Brown s ghost 
 crosses the stage. 
 
 JOHN BROWN. 
 
 Poor, struggling insect, now we part! 
 
 My web is woven round your heart ; 
 
 My work well done, to Hell begone ! 
 
 And tell them there John Brown is marching on. 
 
 Exit. 
 Enter Herold and Atzerot. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Come, Atzerot, tell me, what do 
 You think of this whole business? 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Vel, if de shentlemens will pay de 
 Monish, I can cut de wires, and den 
 Dey can all runs away. 
 
 [99] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 But what if they should kill the whole 
 Cabinet, would that save the South? 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Ef dey kills one, dot makes no good ; 
 
 But if dey kills all, den I say ya, 
 
 For mit de killin' Europe stop de war and 
 
 De South go free. Dot's it, dot's it, my baby 
 
 Slapping him on the shoulder — ha! ha! ha 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 I could understand it better if Booth would talk to us and 
 explain it. Sometimes I think he must be crazy. Damn'd if 
 I do anything but hold his horse at the theater. He intends, 
 I think, to kill them all in the midst of the play; for this eve- 
 ning, at Spotswood's Hotel, he sent a note up to Johnson, and 
 directly after told me to stand in the rear of the theater, at nine 
 o'clock, to hold his horse. I asked him a question and he left 
 me gaping like a fool. 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 Seward never goes to theater. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Then who kills him? 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Vy, Payne, dot big vellow from de South ; 
 
 He kill Seward; den, you see, I cuts all de wires mit de 
 telegraph. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Cut the wires? Why, you were to kill Johnson. 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 O ya, ya! Enter Payne. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 What of Booth ? He promised to be here. 
 
 [100 1 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Don't you think him crazy? What good 
 Would come of it, even if his plans succeeded ? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 He has assurances from Canada, 
 
 From men well posted in the current of events, 
 
 That intervention soon would follow 
 
 And the South be saved. His vengeance, too, 
 
 With mine, cries out for blood. Our ruined homes, 
 
 Our native land, and every sacred memory 
 
 Shout to the patriot soul, "Revenge! revenge!" 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 How could we justify such wholesale slaughter? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 By precedent. Full thirty kings in France, 
 In Germany a score, and in Great Britain ten, 
 Th' assassin's dagger punched down to Hell ; 
 From Brutus, of th' olden time, when Tarquin, 
 Reeking with Lucretia's shame, fell headlong, 
 To the younger Brutus, red with Caesar's blood ; 
 From him to beastly Heliogabalus ; 
 And all those emperors slain amidst their pleasures ; 
 Such was the last resort of Freedom. 
 O'ertopping insolence and hired minions drive 
 The people to despair ; then lightning leaps 
 Upon the patriot's blade and tyrants fall. 
 
 Enter Booth. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 They call this day Good Friday. Good! Most excellent! 
 
 Beware of treachery, beware ; for soon 
 
 The Judas of our tribes may hear from me 
 
 That curse of Richard — hear it now: 
 
 "When I was mortal mine anointed body 
 
 "By you was punched full of deadly holes; 
 
 "Think on that hour and me, despair, and die." 
 
 Should one arm falter or one heart fail, 
 
 Not one of us would live to tell the tale ! Exit . 
 
 [101] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Now, what does all that mean ? Don't 
 You see that the man's crazy? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 By no means. 
 
 Warns you and Atzerot, suspects your courage, 
 Knowing full well that should our venture fail 
 Through craft, or cowardice, or treachery, 
 The South must then be lost forever. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 Enter Lilly. 
 
 Ah, ah ! I thought to find you here, 
 And jumped over the moon from yon asylum. 
 All the stars ran after me and cried, 
 "Come back, sweet Lilly, come and marry us!" 
 "No, no, quoth I"; first come and fight 
 With Sisera and slay mine enemies; 
 Then will I wed the stars, and all 
 Our children pretty little stars and flowers ! 
 Stay, stay; I'll sing to Stonewall Jackson. 
 There, there he goes, poor Stonewall Jackson! 
 Yon moon sinks down over Stonewall's grave, 
 And the soldiers are sleeping around ; 
 No tents are spread, no cover for the brave, 
 But they sleep on Freedom's ground. 
 'Nor the hooting of the owl over yonder hill, 
 Nor the melancholy song of the whippoorwill, 
 Can disturb their slumbers sound ; Spoken. 
 
 But Lee could wake them, and his voice 
 
 Was like a trumpet on the morning air. Sing. 
 
 Rise, rise, brave boys, once more for the fight, 
 'Tis the last to be lost or won. 
 
 Then arm, brave boys, by the dawning of the light, 
 And charge to the foeman's gun! 
 
 Tho' few and bleeding now, we must win for the right 
 Or sleep upon the field with Stonewall tonight ; 
 'Tis the last to be lost or won. 
 Once more, brave boys, tho' the shot fall fast 
 And your comrades are lying low, 
 
 [102] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Hark! hark! you shout and the trumpet blast, 
 
 'Tis Stonewall charging below. 
 
 He charges up the hill See, see how they run ! 
 
 He mounts upon the fort and captures every gun ; 
 
 And now he turns them on the foe! 
 
 Once more, brave boys, and the battle shall be won, 
 
 Tho' the millions are pressing around ; 
 
 Lo, Grant comes up at the setting of the sun, 
 
 And a thousand thunders resound. 
 
 Ah! few and bleeding now — 'tis done, 'tis done! 
 
 The banner of the brave goes down with the sun 
 
 And trails at last on the ground! 
 
 Enter nurses from asylum, 
 O ye are my brave keepers. I am glad to see ye. 
 Have you come to my wedding with the stars? 
 
 DR. NICHOLS. 
 
 Yes, Lilly, the stars are all in waiting. 
 Come, we must go without delay. 
 
 LILLY. 
 
 But will they fight with Sisera to slay mine enemies? 
 And you, my Payne, my pretty Payne, will you fight too? 
 
 DR. NICHOLS. 
 
 Yes ; all will fight — are waiting for the war. 
 Come let us hence — haste! haste! 
 
 They drag her out. 
 Payne in agony of grief. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 By Heavens, she was a splendid girl ; 
 
 But, having placed her in th' asylum, 
 
 You have done the best you could — nay, all 
 
 That could be done. Come, cheer up Payne ; 
 
 Be a man. I know it's a hard case. Cheer up! 
 
 Slaps him on shoulder. 
 O that the lagging hours would fly 
 And bring me to the tyrant's bed, 
 To make another Robespierre, broken-jawed 
 And cursing as he plunges into Hell! 
 
 [ 103 ] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 His curses inarticulate, himself a hell! 
 His guilty heart the Hell of hells ! 
 
 Enter Booth, 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Come, let's be going. Each one to his post 
 
 In this great drama to be played with tyrants ; 
 
 For when they fall a universal strife, 
 
 Like Nature fighting in the womb of Time, 
 
 Shall heave volcanoes from a fiery sea 
 
 To blast us all or make our country free! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 Dr. Mary skipping after them. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 Ah, ha! I'll have his head, his heart — ha! ha! 
 
 Exit. 
 
ACT V. 
 
 SCENE I — Street — Dr. Mary, Conger and Baker under lamp- 
 post in Drumb Show — Three conspirators pass them. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Which one's Payne? 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 That desperate-looking devil with a slouched hat. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 And that one? 
 That's Atzerot. 
 And that one? 
 
 His name is Herold. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 BAKER. 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Did you not say that Booth was with them ? 
 Your tale don't hang together. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 Hang together or not, I tell you truly; 
 As I have often urged before, these men 
 Are bent on mischief, and this very night 
 You'll find that I have told the truth. 
 Come, we have no time to lose. 
 
 Exeunt. 
 SCENE II — President's Mansion — President alone— -Room 
 
 darkened. 
 
 PRESIDENT. 
 
 We promised to attend the play tonight, 
 
 But this is Good Friday. Heavens! it looks badly! 
 
 A comedy to celebrate the Crucifixion ! 
 
 Christ to be mocked and spit upon once more ; 
 
 Buffoons to buffet him! Pontius Pilate, 
 
 [105] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Washing his hands and whining, "1 am innocent 
 
 Of the blood of this just person!" Yet the people, 
 
 Eager to swell the pean of our victories, 
 
 Propose a grand ovation to the cabinet. 
 
 O how their brave hands will clap! 
 
 No, no; 'twould never do to disappoint them. 
 
 But where now are the hands that clapped on Calvary? 
 
 There was one there who could not clap his hands! 
 
 Great God ! He made the thunder clap ! 
 
 Enter Booth, drawing pistol. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 This is my chance. I find him all alone ! 
 
 Most kind and humorous, dear, good-natured man! 
 
 Alas ! poor Yorick ! with his quips and quids, 
 
 And merriment, and anecdote, Alas! alas! 
 
 Great Caesar, too, was merciful and kind ; 
 
 But Casca held his gown while Brutus punched ; 
 
 For good is as good doth. What hast thou done? 
 
 O perjured wretch — to promise him a pardon, 
 
 Yet break that promise on poor Lilly's heart! 
 
 Thou lying tongue, shall I not pluck thee out? 
 
 Thou heart of rottenness to break her heart ! 
 
 Shall I not pierce thee with requiting steel ? 
 
 O brain accursed, shall I not punch thee thro' ? 
 
 O cursed fiend, to blast my land of flowers ; 
 
 To slay her sons and drive her daughters to despair! 
 
 Behold her fallen ! Behold her fallen cross, 
 
 No longer flashing thro' the battle storm ; 
 
 But flat upon the ground, her form outstretched 
 
 Upon it, mocked, despised, and spit upon! 
 
 O time most fortunate, most opportune! 
 
 To find him all alone, alone with Death ! 
 
 Revenge and hate come flapping on the air ; 
 
 Their dragon wings make twilight, and the stage 
 
 Is aptly darkened for effect. 
 
 Aims pistol and then lowers it. 
 But where my audience? Where th' unborn applause? 
 
 Puts pistol down. 
 Bah ! such a play would fall like vinted wine, 
 Insipid and without a beaded gallery 
 
 [106] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 To clap the climax of a bloody gash. 
 
 Those other vultures, too, marked out for slaughter 
 
 Would all fly away at the first smell of powder. 
 
 Oh, no; I'll first arm him; then, forewarned, 
 
 He, too, can join the cast with preparation. 
 
 Puts up his pistol and advances. 
 We'll meet again at ten o'clock, Your Excellence. 
 The public all expect you. Now prepare ; 
 For you must play your part in this great drama. 
 Ten o'clock, Your Excellence! Remember, ten o'clock! 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Yes, tell them we shall keep our promise ; 
 But, Booth, I thought it nine o'clock. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Aye, nine and half-past nine ; but ten o'clock, 
 The climax of the play, will punch thro' Heaven 
 Like some volcano spouting to the sky 
 And drawing to it every heart and eye ! 
 Remember, ten o'clock! 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Yes, I'll remember; we shall all be there. 
 
 Exit Booth. 
 
 'Twas on this very day our Saviour died ; 
 
 And something warns me — psha! presentiments 
 
 Are more absurd than dreams ; and yet one dream 
 
 I never had but that some great event 
 
 Came fast upon 't. That dream I dreamt last night. 
 
 A stately ship was sailing 'gainst the wind 
 
 And struck a rock. My wife cried out 
 
 And, waking, vowed that she had dreamt the same. 
 
 Then, going to the window, I beheld 
 
 On the heights of Arlington a shooting star, 
 
 Red as the setting sun, and a huge owl, 
 
 As tho' some warning hand were laid upon me, 
 
 A something strange that comes to press me down. 
 
 For aught I know, my mother might return 
 
 To lay once more her hand upon my head ; 
 
 For well do I remember those sweet hands, 
 
 [107] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 And how they fell, like gentle dews from Heaven, 
 
 When on her patient lap my prayer was breathed. 
 
 This night, for aught I know, may be the last ; 
 
 And she who loved me then must love me still. 
 
 Wise fools may ridicule such thoughts, 
 
 But mysteries never yet by them explored 
 
 Do rock our cradles first, then dig our graves ! 
 
 The whence we came, the why we linger here ; 
 
 And whither, when our spirits take eternal flight — 
 
 All this, and more than volumes could express, 
 
 They know not ; neither can they tell why dreams, 
 
 Like couriers, come upon the midnight air 
 
 To bring us messages, then go their way. 
 
 One thing I know, that something makes me sad. 
 
 Rings a bell — Enter servant. 
 Albert brings in the children, Tad and Fred. 
 
 Exit servant. 
 This very day some eighteen hundred years ago 
 The sun grew dark and graves gave up their dead. 
 At such a time I have no heart for comedy ; 
 And yet our promise must be kept. 
 
 Enter Major Lincoln and Tad. 
 Come, Taddy — tell me what is Easter Day? 
 
 TAD. 
 
 Our Saviour rose on Easter Day. O, papa, 
 
 Won't you buy us some Easter eggs? 
 
 I'm going to the Capitol that day. 
 
 Say, papa, will you buy us some Easter eggs? 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Yes, if you'll tell me why they call this Good Friday. 
 
 TAD. 
 
 Because our Saviour died today; but, papa, 
 Did he die sure 'enough this very day ? 
 But Mr. Beecher says he didn't. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Yes, my son, our Saviour died on Friday. 
 
 Enter Colfax. 
 
 Well, Colfax, they say that Grant has gone. 
 
 [108] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 COLFAX. 
 
 Gone, Your Excellence, to Burlington, New Jersey. 
 
 Quite unexpectedly, for Mrs. Grant. 
 
 He begged me to excuse him to Your Excellence ; 
 
 Also to Laura Kean, for he had promised 
 
 To be present at her play tonight. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 I do wish we had not promised. 
 
 COLFAX. 
 
 You are expected, with your whole cabinet— 
 At least the morning papers have it so — 
 And the whole city will be on tiptoe 
 To greet Your Excellence. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 I wish I had not promised them. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Lincoln. 
 
 MRS. LINCOLN. 
 
 Shall we go to the theater or not? 
 Come, Mr. Colfax, cheer him up; 
 He has the blues. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Well, get ready; I'll go. Bands playing. 
 
 Great shouting without — Lincoln and all go to the window. 
 Lincoln reading a dispatch to the people. 
 Mobile, Ala., April 14, 1865. 
 Dick Taylor has surrendered. Our 
 Soldiers are in good spirits, and the 
 Rebels have abandoned every hope. 
 
 E. R. Canby. 
 Great shouting. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 This was their last army. The South surrenders 
 And the Union is restored! 
 
 Shouting. 
 Let us remember tonight my old motto : 
 
 [109] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Band plays. 
 
 "Malice to none, but charity for all!" 
 Come, boys, play us Dixie, and then give us 
 The Star-Spangled Banner! 
 
 MRS. LINCOLN. 
 
 Well, it is nearly our time. 
 
 TAD (to Lincoln). 
 What does mother mean by "our time"? 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 O we promised to be there by nine o'clock ; 
 That's what your mother means, my boy ; 
 But there are times in all our lives 
 Of which you children know but little. 
 Our Saviour said to his disciples once, 
 "My hour is come," and all day long those words 
 Keep ringing in my ear ; 'twas on the night 
 Before Good Friday and about this hour. 
 Come, we must go; 'tis nearly 9 o'clock. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 SCENE III — Street near guard-house, Washington — Clock 
 strikes ten — Sentinel pacing. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Halt! Who goes there? Presents. Enter Conger. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Hold! hold! 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 Why, Conger, you should have given the 
 Password; some other sentinel might 
 Have shot you. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 I knew it was your watch ; besides, 
 The password has been changed 
 The last half-hour, for a strange 
 
 [110] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Rumor is afloat. 
 
 Take for your password now " Conspiracy." 
 
 Have you seen Baker? 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 No ; not tonight. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Nor Dr. Mary Trotter! 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 No. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 He was to meet me here, and she was with him. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 What was the rumor, and why have they 
 Changed the password? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 nothing, nothing; but Baker should 
 Be here. I sent him to the theater. 
 
 SENTINEL. 
 
 For what? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Hush! hush! sh! 
 
 Drums beating — Shouts in the distance. 
 Hear those clattering horses — how they run! 
 The drums and shouting — what can all this mean? 
 
 Enter Baker, running. 
 
 1 was just in time to be too late. 
 The President is shot! 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Great God! Killed? 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Killed, and several others with him. I left in the 
 Confusion. It verified the last report, 
 And all that Dr. Mary told us. 
 
 [Ill] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Wilkes Booth entered the President's box ; was met by Major 
 Rathborne, who stabbed him with his sword. Booth with a 
 dagger struck him down, shot the President, wounded several 
 others, and sprang from the box down to the stage, waving a 
 bloody knife and shouting, "Sic semper tyrannis; Virginia is 
 avenged!" Then something about Lieutenant Beall; but the 
 shrieks of the women drowned his voice. In leaping from the 
 box to the stage he seemed to break his leg, for it gave way 
 every step and his boot dragged after him. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 What course did he take? 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 I followed close upon his track; saw 
 Him mount a horse behind the theater. 
 I fired three times and must have hit him. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Strike the telegraph ; set all the bells to ringing ; 
 Call every man to arms! 
 
 Bells ring. 
 Enter Dr. Mary Trotter, breathless. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 All Hell to pay ! I told you so ! 
 Seward is killed — cut all to pieces! 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Heavens! Was he there, too? Did Booth 
 Kill both ? Was he at the theater ? 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 'Twas at his house. A tall man 
 Cut his way into his chamber ; killed 
 Fred Seward first. I saw the wound, 
 The dorsal muscle of his belly cut in twain- 
 A cut across the abdomen. The villain 
 Knocked down other men ; then sprang 
 On Seward like a tiger ; stabbed him 
 Six times; broke his jawbone with 
 
 [112] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 The butt of his pistol, as it failed to 
 
 Fire; cut his way out, mounted a 
 
 Horse — all quicker than I've been telling 
 
 You. They say that Johnson, too, and several others have 
 
 been killed — all 
 Hell let loose ! 
 
 Cries of fire. 
 Enter number of police and soldiers. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 'Tis a vast conspiracy. The Rebels are upon us! 
 
 They've set the town on fire ! 
 
 Every man to arms; 
 
 Kill every Rebel dog you meet, 
 
 Whether at home or in the street ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV — Madame Surratl's house — Enter Conger, Dr. 
 Mary, soldiers, and Surratt. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Where is her chamber ? 
 
 SERVANT. 
 
 That, sir. 
 Open the door. 
 Who's there ? 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Open the door — surrender! 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Knocking. 
 
 Within. 
 
 Kicks it open. 
 
 Entering in nightgown. 
 In the name of Heaven, what can all this mean? 
 How dare you, man — not man, but brute — how dare you 
 Thus to insult a widow in her bed ? 
 
 [113] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 You'll soon have a warmer bed than that. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Hell's too good for the bitch. Cut her down! 
 
 Enter Annie Surratt. 
 ANNIE. 
 
 O mother, mother! what can all this mean? 
 
 You mongrels, blackguards! out of this house! 
 How dare you thus insult my mother ? 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 She's arrested for the murder of Mr. Lincoln. 
 
 BOTH. 
 
 To soldiers. 
 
 Annie and mother. 
 
 O Heavens! Heavens!! Heavens!!! 
 
 Annie rushes to her arms. 
 ANNIE. 
 O mother! mother dear! that fatal dream! that fatal dream! 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Soft, soft, my child. God's will be done. 
 
 Enter soldier. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Seward is sinking rapidly. Frederick, 
 His son, was cut across the belly, 
 And two men servants wounded mortally. 
 Here's a description of the murderer. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Take this, Baker ; take a squad of men ; 
 
 Scour the city ; bring him in ; 
 
 By Heavens, we'll hang them high as Haman. 
 
 Come, Madame, tell the truth; 
 
 Reveal the plot and I'll secure your pardon. 
 
 [114] 
 
 Giving paper. 
 
 Exit Baker. 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 I knew no plot that looked to murder — none ! 
 
 Re-enter Baker with Powell, covered with mud. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 We found this fellow knocking at the door ; 
 Alarmed at meeting us and taken by surprise, 
 He said that he had come to dig a ditch. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 For whom? 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 For Madame Surratt. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 To Madame Surratt. 
 Do you know this man? 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 No, sir ; I know nothing of him whatever ; 
 
 Never saw the man before. Cheer up, Annie ; 
 
 God sent these soldiers to protect us. 
 
 What a Providence! The ruffian might have killed us both. 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 Aside. 
 O mother, that is Powell ! 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 What? Powell? 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 Yes, Thornton Powell — Payne. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Ton my word, I do believe it is. 
 
 Officers searching him. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Reading a note taken from Payne's pocket. 
 My dear Captain, we expect you by four o'clock; 
 Have a message from my son John. 
 Be sure to come. m. surratt. 
 
 [115] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 Do you remember the note from her 
 
 To Booth, found on his table? Ah! ha! 
 
 You said it was nothing. Now you see. 
 
 Th' occipital and genital bones — aha! 
 
 I told you they would generate. Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 To Madame Surratt. 
 And so you never saw this man before. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 I did not know him in the dark; 
 
 That mud upon his face disguised him more ; 
 
 Ton the honor of a lady, I did not know him! 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 I guess not. Come, my pretty cutthroat, 
 How came your hands so soft? 
 
 Indeed, you are a dainty ditcher. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 1 am no ditcher ; told your bloodhounds 
 At the door that I came to dig a ditch, 
 And I have dug it for my mortal foes ! 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 What do you know of this woman ? 
 What's your name? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 My name is what my father gave me — 
 
 A name well known in patriotic song — 
 
 And you may call it, if so please you, Payne; 
 
 For this ordeal is a painful one, 
 
 Not for ntyself, but for this generous lady, 
 
 Whose hospitalities I once enjoyed, 
 
 And which, by accident, I now abuse. 
 
 My horse had thrown me, just across the bridge, 
 
 And I returned for shelter to her house; 
 
 But more, to get a pass hence to her farm, 
 
 On pretext of employment there, to reach our lines. 
 
 [116] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 CONGER. 
 What lines? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 Confederate lines, of course. 
 
 Soldiers advancing with bayonets, threatening. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Hold ! hold ! Await my orders. 
 
 This woman, is she one of your conspirators? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 This lady is a most generous soul, 
 
 Thro' whom I hoped to get the pass; 
 
 But, as the babe unborn, is she most innocent. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Innocent of what? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 Of what? And do you think to trap me? Fool! 
 
 Soldiers about to bayonet him. 
 Back, villains, if you wish to know what I have done ! 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Stand back, soldiers, and await my orders ; 
 He wishes to confess. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 But not from fear of death or hope of pardon ; 
 
 I scorn alike your menace and your mercy ; 
 
 To vindicate this lady, I proclaim, 
 
 And hurl it on your pointed bayonets, 
 
 That, all without her knowledge or connirance, 
 
 I slew the dog, your Seward, in his bed. 
 
 Soldiers start at him. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Hold! hold! Let him confess. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 'Twas I, and I alone, that gave his blood 
 To that great ocean, shed from better veins, 
 
 [117] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Which he had poured upon the ground. 
 
 Some men, grown fat wi' power, forget 
 
 That they are mortal ; and, themselves secure, 
 
 Send you soldiers, like cattle, to the shambles. 
 
 Then if a patriot bares his arm to strike, 
 
 All eyes wall up to Heaven and foojs shout murder. 
 
 Hell shouts "murder," too, for millions they had slain ; 
 
 But Nemesis hath been abroad tonight! 
 
 'Twas I, and I alone, that slew the tyrant. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Having escaped so far beyond the bridge, 
 Wherefore return to seek this woman's house? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 For her sake, and hers alone, I deign to answer you ; 
 
 Then hear the truth and learn her innocence. 
 
 A Rebel, undisguised, she always gave 
 
 Her hospitality to true Confederates. 
 
 Well knowing this, I came to ask employment, 
 
 Forsooth, upon her farm, to pass your lines, 
 
 Expecting her to get the proper pass. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 And would she play into your hands? 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 Doubtless to aid a soldier in distress ; 
 But had she been a party to our plot, 
 Would I, a sane man, have sought her house? 
 None but an idiot could have ventured so! 
 Her innocence my own destruction, for I came 
 To ask employment, as I told you, 
 Only a pretext to elude your guards ; 
 But that fatality, which seems to follow blood, 
 Engaged her innocence to trap me thus. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Then wherefore fly, or why disguise your face with mud ? 
 
 [118] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 You lie ; I never fled ; but, as a soldier, 
 
 Went to report me at the common rendezvous, 
 
 And when your watchful guards had intercepted me, 
 
 And when my horse, ere I had reached it, fell, 
 
 And left me powerless to attain the spot. 
 
 Still rejoicing that the tyrants had been slain, 
 
 I placed my ear upon the muddy ground 
 
 To hear the shrieks of their infernal souls, 
 
 Landing in Hell. Then strike me, villains, strike! 
 
 Great confusion — Soldiers dash at him — Payne snatches a 
 sword — Exeunt, fighting. 
 
 SCENE IV— Mt. Vernon— Moonlight— Enter Booth. 
 BOOTH. 
 
 All hail, Mt. Vernon. Freedom's holiest shrine! 
 
 More than a Mecca thou to earth's bowed millions! 
 
 O sacred mound, and you ye skies that clasp it, 
 
 Bend down, ye heavens, that kiss my native land, 
 
 Blue-domed and beautiful ! Once more look down 
 
 And clasp the ashes of my blasted heart ! 
 
 O look upon me with your soft blue eyes 
 
 And judge me kindly. Judge my cruel foes ! 
 
 As Hannibal who struck for Carthage, but in vain ; 
 
 As Brutus when in vain he struck th' ambitious Caesar ; 
 
 As Cromwell when he slew the guilty Charles ; 
 
 As Henry when he roused Virginia's wrath, 
 
 So I have struck the tyrant, and would wake 
 
 The land of Washington to guard his dust ! 
 
 O sacred shade of him who trampled on a crown 
 
 Offered by sycophants, arise and speak! 
 
 If ever spirits in the dusky shades return, 
 
 Or when the torn elements in fiery combat 
 
 Shake heaven and earth, or when devoted nations 
 
 Do tremble and dissolve, then hear my prayer. 
 
 Amidst th' upheaving of these mighty States, 
 
 Immortal Washington, come forth! come forth! 
 
 Ghosts of Washington and of other heroes, as in Act 1, Scene II. 
 
 [119] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 WASHINGTON. 
 
 Infatuated and unhappy man! 
 
 Already Abel hath been here to tell the tale. 
 
 He brought his wounds for me to bind them up, 
 
 And piteously complaining thro' eternity, 
 
 Reveals to trembling ghosts his agonizing grief. 
 
 Cut off by your abortive act, he sees 
 
 A host of northmen gathering up their strength, 
 
 Like Judas bent upon the scent of gold. 
 
 To make a war more dire than that surceased ! 
 
 But for your tragic deed, Abel had brought 
 
 A sacrifice of corn and wine and oil 
 
 To stay the maddening flood and save your country ! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 O useless, useless, worse than useless, all my work! 
 Deceived by cowards and by traitors foiled, 
 .My vast conspiracy now dwindles down 
 To one poor victim, while my foes survive ! 
 To take off only one, and he the best, 
 Could bring no benedictions to my native land ; 
 And yet, had I as many hands as wrongs, 
 As many hearts, and firm as this one proved, 
 The whole cabinet had fallen at my feet, 
 While over head the Southern cross had waived 
 My name immortal and my country free! 
 
 Lincoln s Ghost enters bloody. 
 Booth hides his face. 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 Your deadly ball, shot through my skull, 
 
 Went through the South as well and pierced her heart. 
 
 Now, driven to despair, she well might covet 
 
 This earthly smell of coffins and of bones 
 
 Which I, shut out from day and doomed to snuff. 
 
 Had you but left me still the scented flowers, 
 
 Your flowers in the South had bloomed afresh, 
 
 Savannas would have yielded golden fruits 
 
 And fiery blasts return to peaceful songs, 
 
 A happy people had rejoiced in Union ; 
 
 Your statesmen, too, had then returned to Washington, 
 
 [120] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 But not for punishment. My motto was, 
 
 "Malice to none, but charity for all!" 
 
 Then fly, unhappy man, fly from yourself, 
 
 For vain your flight from them who loved me well ; 
 
 Ten thousand swords are now upon your track, 
 
 And like a fiery tempest sweep the world. 
 
 Repent and be you washed in Jesus' blood, 
 
 Or soon we'll meet again in sulphurous flames, 
 
 To which your cruel deed consigns me. Go ! 
 
 Go cry for mercy ere it be too late. 
 
 Poor man, I pity you; aye, and forgive you, too! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Alas! poor soul, thy words, like sulphurous fires, 
 Consume the very marrow of my bones 
 And burn into my heart — a new-born Hell ! 
 O pluck it out and cast it on yon tomb, 
 A vain but earnest sacrifice to liberty. 
 
 Ghost going. 
 Stay, stay ! and strike me if thou canst. 
 
 stay thou gory thing, or I will follow thee ! 
 
 Ghost motions him back — Booth following. 
 Thou canst not fright me back ; I fear thee not ; 
 Tho' Heaven should thunder "no" and Hell gape wide, 
 Still would I follow thee! O world, farewell! 
 Foul deeds will up ; we follow them to Hell ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE IV — A road — Enter Conger and Baker and Soldiers. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Here let us halt ; for though we be upon his track, 
 Our men are weary and the day far spent. 
 
 1 doubt if we are on his track at all ; 
 
 For Herold should be with him, and our guide 
 
 Declares this man to be alone. 
 
 Perhaps she might mistake some other man. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 What, Dr. Mary not know Booth ? 
 'Twas she who put us first upon his track, 
 
 [121] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Brought us his plans an hour before th' assassination, 
 
 And ever since has hung upon his flight, 
 
 As vultures following up the wounded deer. 
 
 She swears she saw him on this very road, 
 
 And would have killed him but her gun missed fire. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Perhaps her heart missed fire, for once she loved 
 The villain ; and these women change with every moon. 
 Her flood of hate might staunch its bloody course, 
 And even now may lure us from his track. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 O never do you fret; I know 'twas he. 
 She swears she saw him limping up yon hill, 
 Pale from exhaustion, and his broken leg 
 Trailing behind, without a splint to brace it. 
 Doubtless, from pain, he tore the splints away. 
 A hundred thousand dollars the reward ! 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Had Mary got it — heavens! the boys 
 Would now be crazy for her. 
 
 CONGER. 
 
 Crazy for a bag of bones. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Ten thousand men have scoured the Peninsula; 
 But if we get him, the money will all be ours. 
 By heavens, we must have it ! Forward, march ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE V — Scene in a barn — Booth and Herold on the hay and 
 fodder with a lantern. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Go back, my faithful boy, to yonder house. 
 Bring me some water, for I parch with thirst ; 
 My wound keeps up a fever and my eyes 
 
 [122] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Are almost bursting from their sockets. 
 
 There, take that money ; get some brandy, too ; 
 
 The people here are kind, but very poor. 
 
 Force them to take the change or leave it at their door ! 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 I know that they are close upon us now. 
 Can you not go farther? 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 No, 'tis impossible ; I must have rest. 
 Go quickly and return. 
 
 Exit Herold. 
 Yon clamorous cock, impatient of the dawn, 
 Stretches his neck to pip the coming morrow ; 
 So they would have me stand a tiptoe, too, 
 To pip that mightier globe — eternity! 
 But I will disappoint them, not as Brutus, 
 Thieflike, breaking into my mother's casket — no! 
 But like the tiger followed to his den. 
 
 Examines his carbine. 
 First let me shoot these loads off to prepare 
 Fresh supper for my coming guests. 
 
 Fires and lays it down. 
 Now sleep, my last, best, only friend ! 
 But when I call the up, to meet them, speak ! 
 And make such argument, in curt replies, 
 As Randolph would have made their Shermans. 
 'Twas hereabouts that Patrick Henry's tongue, 
 Unconscious of its prophecy, proclaimed 
 The forging of our chains — the clash of arms 
 Upon the northern wind, and cried indignantly, 
 "I care not, sirs, what other men may choose, 
 But give me liberty or give me death !" 
 Hark! hark! yon lonely whippoorwill admonishes 
 That they who live without companionship 
 Must die at last on some deserted heather, 
 Forgotten e'en by those who listened to their songs. 
 O that I had his broad, flapping wings for one short hour! 
 I'd waltz my broken leg thro' Southern skies 
 And sing tonight a merrier song than his. 
 
 [123 1 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 Alas ! such thoughts comport not with his song ; 
 For, lifted to the skies, he never sings, 
 But flat upon the ground and in the darkness, 
 As I am now ; for Nature's last account 
 Must soon be audited and struck against me. 
 These eyes no more shall gaze on Beauty's mold, 
 On the bright sun, nor on my native land ; 
 This night shall close them with her sable ringers 
 In that sleep which morning cannot drive away. 
 I know it, feel it, see it as reality — 
 Aye, hear it, in that monitor whose voice 
 Grows audible as time and passion cease. 
 The bloodhounds could not miss me if they would, 
 And the next sun shall rise upon my corpse. 
 Let them come on ; I will not budge, but fight, 
 And they shall perish with me. 
 
 Enter Her old. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Can you not go farther? I'm sure they'll find us. 
 A man just passed who says that they are coming. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 No, I cannot; my leg hurts worse and worse. 
 You go, but as for me, it matters not 
 Whether I die in battle or on beds of down. 
 
 Sleeps — Herold snivels and prays. 
 
 SCENE VI — Road near barn — Enter Baker, Conger, Dr. Mary, 
 
 and soldiers. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 The barn is just out there — look sharp! 
 
 CONGER (to Baker). 
 
 Surround it quickly. 
 
 Exit Baker, with a squad of men. 
 Booth's voice in the distance. 
 List! list! I know the villain's voice. 
 
 [124] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 "O coward conscience, how thou dost afflict me! 
 Give me another horse; bind up my wound." 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 Hush ! hush ! 'tis Richard, acted in his sleep ! 
 Oft have I heard him thus upon the stage. 
 'Tis Richard's dream, that horrid dream again. 
 O can we not spare him ? Yes, spare his life, 
 For he was always generous and brave ! 
 
 Enter soldiers. 
 CONGER. 
 
 Forward, march! 
 
 That way, soldiers — double quick. 
 
 Going. 
 Exeunt all but Dr. Mary. 
 
 DR. MARY. 
 
 Alas ! poor woman's heart — its anger flies 
 And turns to pity when the false one dies. 
 
 Exit. 
 
 SCENE VII — Scene in the barn — Booth and Herold sleeping. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Take down that banner; take it down, I say! 
 
 Once did I love it, but its bloody stripes 
 
 Are now like great red gashes in the sky. 
 
 "O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me! 
 
 "Give me another horse! bind up my wounds! 
 
 "It is now dread midnight; 
 
 "The lights burn blue; 
 
 "Cold, flareful drops stand on my trembling flesh. 
 
 "What do I fear? Myself! there's none else here. 
 
 "Is there a murderer here? No; yes — I am. 
 
 "Then fly! What, from myself? 
 
 "My conscience hath a thousand several tongues, 
 
 "And every tongue brings in a several tale. 
 
 "Murder! stern murder in the direst degree! 
 
 "Throng to the bar, crying — guilty! guilty! 
 
 Leaps up. 
 
 [125] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 "Have mercy, Jesus! Soft, soft; I did but dream." 
 Thank God, 'twas all a dream, a fearful dream! 
 Or, rather, Richard played upon my sleep. 
 I am no murderer, but the South's red arm 
 Thrown up in anguish, as her great heart broke! 
 Then let me perish with my native land, 
 And as she fell on Patrick Henry's grave, 
 So let me fall, to mingle with his dust, 
 Still gasping those immortal words: 
 "Give me liberty or give me death !" 
 
 Knocking and voice without. 
 
 VOICE. 
 
 Open this door. 
 
 Booth and Herold listen — Booth examines carbine and pistol 
 and dagger. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Loading. 
 
 Dead silence. 
 
 I should have loaded it before we slept. 
 
 baker (without). 
 Surrender or I'll set the barn on fire. 
 
 Open this door. Surrender or I'll set the 
 Barn on fire. Open, I say! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Who the devil are you ? What do you wish ? 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 You are my prisoner ; fifty men surround you ; 
 There's no chance for escape; be quick; surrender! 
 
 Booth levels his carbine on Baker. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 No, I'll spare his life, for that he comes obedient 
 To the same tyrant whose heavy hand I feel. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Come, surrender instantly ; here goes the match ; 
 I'll set the barn on fire. Will you surrender? 
 
 [126] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 BOOTH (aside). 
 
 I have but one load in my carbine yet. 
 
 for a little time! 
 
 Aloud. 
 This is a hard case, Captain ; give us a few moments 
 For consultation. Loading pistol. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 I'll give you just three minutes. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 That will be sufficient. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 Let us give up ; we have no chance ! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 And you desert me too? Go! coward, go! 
 Captain, a man here wishes to surrender. 
 
 Herold bolts to the door, crying and pleading. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Go back and bring your arms. 
 
 HEROLD. 
 
 1 had none, sir. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Yes, you had, damn you ! You had a carbine ! 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 On the honor of a gentleman, he had no arms ; 
 
 They are all mine; 
 
 Draw your men off and fight me one by one ! 
 
 For I am lame, Captain ; give a lame man a chance. 
 
 Draw off your men but fifty yards. 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 Your time is almost out. 
 
 BOOTH. 
 
 Then, my brave boys, prepare a stretcher for me. 
 But, Captain, as you came I spared your life 
 And took my carbine down. Give me a chance 
 
 [127] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 And fight me like a man — fight one by one ; 
 For I am lame and cannot, would not, run ! 
 
 BAKER. 
 
 We didn't come to fight, but to take a murderer. 
 The time is out. Will you surrender ? 
 
 BOOTH (drawing himself up with desperation, carbine pointed). 
 
 No, damn you! no! 
 
 Barn blazes — Firing on all sides. 
 
 BOOTH (having his carbine poised and leaping from side to side, 
 to see them). 
 
 I'll take you down to Hell or up to Heaven ; 
 Cowards! by darkness covered, you are safe; 
 Fire ! for I am in the light and you in darkness. 
 Fire! for I just spared your life — take mine! 
 Fire ! for I am lame and one to fifty. 
 'Twas thus you fought us from the first, 
 But from this wave of fire, with plunging shot, 
 I'll glut the maw of Hell! Infernal fiends! 
 
 Staggers back mortally wounded—Lincoln's ghost rises and 
 supports him. 
 
 LINCOLN. 
 
 The South is conquered and the Union saved. 
 A mad but generous valor led them on, 
 And there was greatness in their fiery zeal. 
 Put out these flames and let us all forgive! 
 My motto from the first hath been, 
 Malice to none, but charity for all. 
 
 SCENE VIII — Street in Washington — Enter citizen. 
 
 FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 There they come with Wirtz. 
 
 SECOND CITIZEN. 
 
 Hell ! there's a rope around his neck. 
 
 [128] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 Yes, damn him ; he starved our boys at Andersonville. 
 
 Enter Beau Hickman, a decayed Virginia gentleman, whose 
 gracious manners always secured him friends and money. 
 
 BEAU HICKMAN. 
 
 What's to pay here ? What's going on ? 
 
 SECOND CITIZEN. 
 
 They are about to hang Wirtz, but 
 It's a damn shame to hang him ! 
 And let Lee and Jeff Davis go. 
 
 BEAU HICKMAN. 
 
 No one should be hanged, for war means ruin; 
 
 And, now that war is over, peace means peace. 
 
 After such sufferings, I would not harm a fly. 
 
 But, more than that, three in the North 
 
 For every captive in the South have perished! 
 
 The North had everything to cherish life, 
 
 While the South was ruined and her sons starving. 
 
 FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 Martyrs, I suppose. Was Booth a martyr, too? 
 Shot in a barn and murdered like a dog! 
 
 BEAU HICKMAN. 
 
 Alas! poor man! I knew him long and well, 
 
 And many a favor has he granted me ; 
 
 Was always kind when other friends grew cold, 
 
 And condescendingly would sometimes play 
 
 My subject, in that kingdom of my own, 
 
 Which levied contributions on mankind 
 
 A five , or ten, or twenty he would pay 
 
 In lowly reverence to my majesty. 
 
 By Heaven! he played 't so well, I thought myself a king! 
 
 Poor Lincoln's blood must ever soil his fame ; 
 
 But still dread misfortunes touch my heart, 
 
 And gratitude can palliate his crime. 
 
 No Christian man could justify the deed — 
 
 [129] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 The fault of madness rather than his own. 
 A cold and creeping horror thrills my heart! 
 And sane, his generous soul had shuddered, too ; 
 For he was cast in Nature's finest mold. 
 True to his friendships ; for a friend would die ; 
 But scorn'd the faithless with a burning hate ! 
 With love inordinate, he may have loved 
 The very mountains of his native land. 
 Once loved the Union and her rainbow flag ; 
 He loved yon Capitol his fathers built; 
 And 'gainst the tempest vainly struggled there ; 
 A shattered rainbow, bending to its dome, 
 His spirit rose and vanished in the storm ! 
 
 Enter policemen. 
 
 POLICEMAN. 
 
 Stand back ! stand back ! the funeral is coming. 
 
 FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 It's not the funeral, boss; they are only 
 Moving the President's remains; 
 He's off for Springfield. 
 
 POLICEMAN. 
 
 It's all the same — funeral or no funeral — 
 Clear the streets! 
 
 Enter soldiers, dragging JVirtz, rope around his neck. 
 
 Funeral procession. 
 Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE VI — President's Mansion — President Johnson and Gen- 
 eral Mussy drinking. 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 What of the murderers? 
 
 MUSSY. 
 
 They've all been tried and all convicted. 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 What proof against Atzerot? 
 
 What does he say of Madame Surratt? 
 
 [ 130 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 MUSSY. 
 That she is innocent. 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 And Herold, what does he say of her? 
 
 MUSSY. 
 
 Protests her innocence ; so do they all ; 
 Yet known to be a Rebel, and so linked 
 With many enterprises of disloyalty, 
 No power but your own could save her ; 
 And I implore Your Excellency to interpose. 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 Why, Mussy, should I pardon her, the mob 
 
 Would sweep us all away. 
 
 They thirst for blood ; their vengeance must be slaked 
 
 Let no petition come to me, for God's sake! 
 
 Keep the preachers all away and the women. 
 
 But Payne, of course he'll swing. 
 
 MUSSY. 
 
 True, he's guilty ; but his frank confession 
 
 And defiant port ; his fierce encounter, too, 
 
 With Seward's sons, and then his desperate fight, 
 
 Disputing every inch and courting death, 
 
 Excites the sympathy of all our soldiers. 
 
 I saw him pass the market-house in chains, 
 
 Like Bryant's hero, even more sublime ; 
 
 "Upon the market place he stood, 
 
 "A man of giant frame, 
 
 "Amid the gathering multitude, 
 
 "That shrank to hear his name ; 
 
 "All proud of step and firm of limb ; 
 
 "His dark eye on the ground, 
 
 "And silently they gazed on him, 
 
 "As on a lion bound." 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 That reminds me of some po'try I made 
 When pushing my tailor's goose in Tennessee ; 
 "If you want the gals to love, 
 
 [131] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 "If you want 'em to love you true, 
 "Come down to Andy's tailor shop, 
 "And git a long-tail blue" — ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Enter page. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 A lady, please, Your Excellence, at the door ; 
 
 She weeps and trembles ; wrings her hands and moans 
 
 So piteously we could not keep her back. 
 
 Annie Surratt, Your Excellence. 
 
 JOHNSON. 
 
 For God's sake, Mussy, keep them all away. 
 
 Exit. Enter Annie Surratt. 
 
 MUSSY. 
 
 You cannot see His Excellence. 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 O sir, if you have mercy in your heart ; 
 
 If e'er you had a mother and remember 
 
 How she loved you more than life itself, 
 
 And how when sickness, perilous, dire, 
 
 Had laid her darling at the gate of death, 
 
 Forgetful of herself, she lingered there, 
 
 Supplied your wants and dried your parched tongue ; 
 
 How by your couch the livelong night she watched, 
 
 And watered with her briny tears your pillow, 
 
 Oft lifting up her streaming eyes to Heaven 
 
 To bring all Heaven down about her child, 
 
 O then be pitiful, be generous, to me! 
 
 Implore the President that I may fall 
 
 Upon his very feet to plead for her, 
 
 For my poor mother, O so sweet and innocent ! 
 
 mussy (aside). 
 
 This ordeal is most terrible, 
 
 And I can scarce go through 't. 
 
 Poor girl ! Already have I pled in vain. 
 
 Sternly. 
 It is impossible ; you cannot see him. 
 
 [132] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 ANNIE. 
 
 O my mother! mother! Exit, sobbing. 
 
 SCENE VII — At door of arsenal — Sentinels pacing to and fro- 
 Enter soldiers and preacher with Atzerot — Heavy chains- 
 Also Her old, sniveling and sobbing. 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 O shentlemens! shentlemens! 
 Take ware ! take ware ! O pity me ! 
 
 FIRST SOLDIER. 
 
 I'll preach your funeral. Keep a stiff 
 Upper lip, brother, you'll soon be in 
 Heaven ! ; A11 you rascals go up happy ! 
 
 ATZEROT. 
 
 O mine Got! mine Got! dat is not 
 Vat I vants — O mine Got! 
 
 They thrust him in prison door — Thrust Herold in, sobbing. 
 
 FIRST SOLDIER. 
 
 Go now, first to your blindfold warning, then to death ; 
 No law's delay, no lawyers with their tricks, 
 But martial law, to speed the felons' doom ! 
 
 SECOND SOLDIER. 
 
 As high as Haman shall they swing; 
 
 For all who enter that dark door leave hope behind ! 
 
 FIRST SOLDIER (hammering within). 
 
 Hark! hark! Those scaffold-builders hammer down 
 
 The voice of lawyers and proclaim the law. 
 
 O glorious martial law, that ere it mocks 
 
 The culprit with a trial builds his jumping board! 
 
 All other courts would pull the scaffold down 
 
 Or let it rot between the sluggish terms; 
 
 But martial law delights in expedition. Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 [133] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 SECOND SOLDIER. 
 
 When did the court convene? Were all tried? 
 
 FIRST SOLDIER. 
 
 Tried in a horn — ha! ha! A drumhead for the judgment seat, 
 A quick decision, and a winding sheet — ha! ha! 
 
 Enter Madame Surratt with soldiers — Father Walter at her 
 side — She bears a crucifix. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 O I do tremble so; yet innocence should give 
 
 My poor knees firmness and sustain my heart. 
 
 Why, Father, should I tremble like some guilty thing? 
 
 You know that I am innocent. 
 
 FATHER WALTER. 
 
 Yes, child ; yes, yes ! Be calm, my child ! 
 Our Divine Lord fell beneath his cross. 
 
 She staggers; Father Walter sustains her and presents the 
 crucifix — Madame Surratt kisses it. 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Yes, thou canst strengthen me, for all alone 
 
 Thy precious feet did climb to Calvary, 
 
 And three times didst thou fall beneath thy cross. 
 
 What wonder, then, that I should tremble so, 
 
 With all my sins to weigh me down ! 
 
 O glorious honor, thus to follow Thee. 
 
 Enter Annie Surratt, sobbing. Enter Payne with heavy chains. 
 
 ANNIE. 
 Mother ! 
 
 Soldiers holding her back — Weeping and sobbing of mother 
 and child. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 God hath no thunder left in Heaven, 
 And Hell no power to gape her ebon jaws, 
 Or earth would open wade for yonder dome, 
 With all this martial power, to topple down 
 And save this woman from her doom ! 
 
 [134] 
 
MADAME SURRATT 
 
 MADAME SURRATT. 
 
 Soft! Soft! There is a judgment yet to come, 
 
 And God withholds his thunderbolts till then ; 
 
 Meanwhile my murderers one by one shall fall, 
 
 Till suicide and misery engulf them all. 
 
 May heaven forgive ! They know not what they do. 
 
 Farewell, my friends! To all, farewell. 
 
 And thou, my child, a last and long farewell ! Farewell ! 
 
 Heaven's blessings on the child ! Farewell, farewell ! 
 
 They thrust her in prison — Push Payne with bayonets — He 
 sweeps them off with his chains. 
 
 PAYNE. 
 
 Stand back, villains! Let me walk into my tomb! 
 (Curtain falls.) 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 [135]