[I / .229 [ POST FREE, ] ^ j OR l 2 i DCl. CENfS ^ Lacy’s Acting Edition. PHILIPPE. THOMAS HAILES LACY, CJeatrCral 89, STRAND, LONDON, W.O., B I R M I N G H A M— Gtjhst, Bull-street, B R A D F O R D—Moboin, B R I STO L—Tolbman, Rupert-stree^ L E E DS- -Ramsdbw, L 1 VERPOO L—Wilkins, Cliristian-street. M A N C H EST ER—Hbywooi), Beansgate, glasgI Butland’s Music Store. DUBLIIN MELBO; ^YDNEl NEW Y order) | Headquarters for INLiisical Instruments, Sheet Music, Play Books and all kinds of Musical Trimmings. 37 King Street West, TORONTO. treet, l-street East, Hstreet East ] ^street. y, The Cohnien^ ppoia Exchanged. No charge for Postage lFJrDE~TO THE STAGE: a New Edition, with many Modern Additions and Improvements fiist of all the Theatres in Grreat Britain — -Theatrioal Trades-^ corrected to Junp- 1858. 6d. PHILIPPE: OR, THE SECKET MARRIAGE. A STORY OF THE REVOLUTION. % Irania, IlSr ONE ACT. 1 1 ADAPTED PROM THE FRENCH BY WILLIAM MURRAY. AUTHOR OF Iramond Brig, No, Gilderoy, Mary Queen of Scots, &c., &c. THOMAS HAILES LACY. 89, STRAND, LONDON. PHILIPPE: or, the SECRET MARRIA.GE. First ^performed at the Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, ( the management of Mr, W, H. Murray) inder GEAEACTEBS. Viscount de Brocatelle Philippe (Steward of the Countess) Albert Henry {Domestic of the Countess) Countess D’Harancourt Elise (Eer Niece) .... Glasgow, June 14, 1860 Mr. David Fisl Mr. E. Glover Mr. Morgan Mr. Danvers Mrs. Ternan Miss A. Bober COSTUMES,— PERIOD 1812. roffs. light Viscount.— Frock coat, trimmed with fur and slate-coloured tights, Hessian boots. (Age 25.) Philippe. — Grey wig, moustache, brown body coat,| ^ waistcoat, brown cloth breeches, grey stockings, shoeis and buckles. (Age 50.) ^ tt I . Albert. — Light frock coat, tight pantaloons, Hdssian boots. (Age 20.) ' ' Henry. — Powder and livery. Countess. — Elegant silk striped dress, short sleeves, waist high, and long gloves, hair dressed in the fashion of the time, (the Empire, 1812.) Elise. — Muslin dress, short waist and short sleeve§. Time in Performance — One Eour. \Terformance Free . ] m r 1 THE SECRKT MARRIAGE. SCENE. — A handsome apartment, A door at the hack, and one on the R. One on the L. leads to the chamber of Albert. On the R., in fronts a large table, with rich cover, on which are a casket, ink-stand, ^c. On the l., a stand for lights. Countess Emilie and Elise discovered seated, l. Elise. My dearest aunt, why not let me proceed with the novel ? It is so interesting. Countess. Psha ! child, mere folly and romance. Elise. Then there’s more romance in real life than we are aware of. I am sure the young foundling we have been reading of, is exactly the counterpart of Albert, whom you have brought up from his infancy, of whom you have taken such care, and who has never known his parents. • Countess. Ah ! it is possible — there is some similarity. Elise. Shall I go and fetch the book ? Countess. No, child, I’m weary of it. Elise. What a pity ! I should like to have known what becomes of Tom Jones, he is so good, so amiable, just like Albert. C/QUNTESS. Elise ! you take great interest in Albert, and in solme respects he deserves it, but a young person like you, ought to be a little more circumspect. Elise. My dear aunt ! CoijNTESS. I intended to have spoken to you on this subject some days ago. I must remind you of the last evening we were at the opera. Albert had the honour of I being, in my box— my nephew, the Viscount de Brocatelle was also there, yet you did nothing but laugh and talk with .A.lbert, and on going out, it was the arm of Albert 4 SECRET MARRIAGE. that you accepted, without paying the slightest attention to the viscount, who so politely offered you his. Now, my dear, that was very wrong. You should remember your rank, Elise. Elise. My dear aunt, it is surely not derogatory to rank to feel for the unfortunate. Countess. That may be, but I repeat, that if we have any regard for our happiness, whether in love, or in friendship, it is still necessary to consult etiquette. Elise. I should never have thought of consulting any- thing but my heart ; Albert is so grateful for your Ikind- ness, he loves you so much. | Countess. I believe it, Elise, and yet I do not experience from him those attentions, which perhaps I have a, right to expect from a young man who owes all to me — hd lives in my house — my saloon is open to him, he has th4re an opportunity of acquiring the tone and manners of good company, but no, he scarcely makes his appearance there in an evening. Elise. Why, my dear aunt, let us be just. Your {laloon is all very fine, but — it is not by any means entertaining. Countess. How ! Elise. For a young man, I mean to say. To hear only' of the antiquity of our ancestry — I have no taste for antiquities, and sincerely wish our family was a | little younger. ' Countess. Niece ! , '• Elise. What then can you expect from poor Albert, who is young, impatient, wild. His head is light, I confess, but his heart is so good. Brought up together as we; have been under your eyes, I know his sentiments for y6u — I know how very dear you are to him. Countess. Are you sure of that, Elise ? Elise. Why that day, now, when your horses ran away i with you, my cousin Brocatelle certainly called out for help, but Albert threw himself before the furious animals, at the risk of his life, stopped their flight, and saved you perhaps from death, and afterwards for fear of alai ming you by the appearance of his torn dress, and ble'eding hands, he made his escape, begging of me to be silent, so I never mentioned it. Countess. And you did very wrong then. Miss Elise. What, I, to be kept in ignorance of all this — Albert ! Elise. To say the truth, aunt, I cannot but think that your rank intimidates him a little. Ah ! says he fre* quently to me, for he converses with me freely. SECRET MARRIAGE. 5 Countess. Indeed! Elise. Oh. yes, it seems he does not think me quite so awful an object as he considers you. “Ah !” says he, “that I could find some opportunity fco prove my gratitude to my benefactress. I would lay down my life for her — had she but been married, I would have devoted myself to the service of her husband. I would have followed him to the field, I would have lost my life for him at the cannon’s mouth.” Countess. Did he indeed speak thus, Elise ? Elise. Yes, indeed he did, and it caused me to make a reflection which never before occurred to me. How does it happen, my dear aunt, that you never were married ? Countess, (somewhat sitrprised) Ah! how? How that is a very childish question, my dear. j Elise. It appears to me, nevertheless, that when we inherit a great name, it is very selfish to keep it all to oneself. Ente7' Henry, door r. 2 e. Henry. Monsieur Philippe, madame, the steward, waits your ladyship’s pleasure. Countess. Admit him. (exit Henry, door R. 2 e. Elise. What a mysterious personage that Monsieur Philippe is. Devoted to your interests, he yet addresses you sometimes in a manner that Countess. Elise ! Elise. Hot that I dislike him — oh, no, his affection for poor dear Albert. Countess. Really, Elise, I wish you would pay more attention to your own conduct, and less to that of those around you. Ent^r Philippe, r. 2 e., hrmging in papers and journals. Countess. What have you there, Philippe ? I^^lippe. (^0 Countess) Your ladyship’s letters and jourrials, also the monthly accounts— for to-day is the first of the month, (presents the papers to her.) Countess. Hever mind, I have no occasion to read them. (he presents a hill of payments to her) I tell you Philippe, it is quite unnecessary. Philippe. Your ladyship is always ready to sign without reading, that’s a bad system. Excuse me, madame, but you 7)|it^snook over the accounts. (Countess crosses r., I’ll tell you of the whole affair. Philippe, (r. aside) Gaming, or a mistress. I’ll swear. De Broc. I had noticed at the opera, for I am one oi SECRET MARRIAGE. 9 the everlasting faithful there. "VVe are always present, I, or my opera glass, white gloves, first tier on the ri^ht,’ that IS my side, you know. Well, as I was saying, I had marked a young disciple of Terpsichore. Oh ! such a shape, such an eye, such a foot ! such a. Countess. Nephew ! nephew ! {retires up the stage.) De Broc. Don t be afraid — I know where to stop, can skim the surface without ruffling. — 1 loved — she blushed I swore everlasting constancy— she the same. A week flew on halcyon wings, when I heard I had a rival. Philippe. Impossible. De Broc. Why, at first, I confess, Monsieur Philippe I was incredulous, I flew to the house of my divinity— she was unwell, and had retired to her boudoir. I flew to her assistance, tried the door, ’twas fast, and a deep bass voice growled out, “ Who is there f ” Philippe. The physician ! De Beoc. Nonsense 1 I saw ray fate, and not being able- to present my card to the sweet-voiced gentleman, I took contented myself with writing on the door, ‘ .The gallant of my mistress is a coxcomb— I wait for him at the Bois^de Boulogue.— (Signed) D’Harancourt de JDJblOCATxiljLE* Philippe. And did he come ? De Broc. Did he come ! ’Gad, there came three of ’em. It appears that they had all taken cognizance of my epistle which, in fact, has since become a perfect circular. Philippe. You fought, of course. De Broc. With the whole party, wounded one, disarmed anotner, and breakfasted with the third, an amiable young man, son of a peer of Prance, he took me in the evening to a most delicious party where by the bye, whom should I meet with, but your friend, Albert. Philippe. Albert! Countess, {advancing^ c.) What is’t you say ? Philippe. His lordship is mistaken— it cannot be. De Broc. So little am I mistaken, that I spoke to him tor I was remarkably astonished to find him there, and wrhen I made myself scarce at six in the morning ’gad tny gentleman was there still. ’ Philippe, (aside) Ten thousand devils fly away with the” babbler. Countess, (looking at Philippe) So, he went out this norning very early— on business— to the Judo^e’s ^hambers. (Philippe attem'pts to speak) It’s very well.'^f^o Brocatelle) And this house you speak of, nephew, is it •espectable ? 40 SECRET MARRIAGE. De Broc, (l.) Humph ! why Philippe, (c.) His lordship was there, {bowing.) De Broc. Oh, I, that is very different— unboundedly difEerent— we go everywhere; but a poor devil without a single sous to call bis own — it may turn out rather awk- wardly for him, that’s all I say. I would not do the poor youth any wrong. Philippe. Oh, pray, go on. Out with it, do not let my lady believe worse than the truth. What, if he did go to the house for a little innocent pleasure— perhaps after an opera-dancer. De Broc. [nettled) Eh ! Countess. Philippe, his lordship did not address his conversation to you. De Broc. Very true, but Monsieur Philippe here seems to take it up readily enough, he has the gift of eloquence, which may be considered as a sort of luxury in a steward. Doubtless you pay extra for the qualification, aunt. Philippe. My lord! Countess. Philippe ! silence ! you forget yourself. [turning to Brocatelle) Come, nephew, your arm. (aside to Philippe) I am displeased — [in going to Philippe) — very , much displeased. [exit Countess Emilie, r. 2 e., with De Brocatelle. Philippe. Very much displeased, that’s it, it’s out now. .| After that, there is nothing more to be said— this chatter- j ing magpie with his rhodomontade, and his galivanting nonsense, and his scornful airs — turn up his honourable nose at Albert — he may have his faults, like enough, but that is my lady’s business — it is my business, [weighing the •purse in his hand) Poor boy ! his quarter’s allowance isn tJ very heavy, and this time there’s no supplement to be ex-> pected — it is just the nick of time to pop in a little help without his suspecting it. [looks about, and fumbles in hisi pocket) I have here just apropos, some little savings which I, was going to deposit. I’m not very rich, ’tis true, but still? with a little method, one has always a cartridge or two, at: the service of a friend, [takes a rouleau of Napoleons from his pocket) He’ll find his pay a little swelled out, but he will believe it is all my ladyship’s doings, [he drops some pieces into the purse) W^here the devil can he have been all ^night? Not to come home — to make us all so uneasy, that s very wrong. I’m in such a passion, [emptying the rouleau in to the purs^ There, let it all go— it’s sooner done, {^oes L.) SECRET MARRIAGE. 11 ' Enter Albekt and Henry, c. door. Albert. Go now, and be sure no one observes you. (gives letter) Place this upon her work-table, or portfolio, or any- where. (Henry is going) Stay ! there is a piece of gold for you. (HpRY hows and exits -R. 2 E.) ’Tis my last— fatal infatuation ! I am ruined, irretrievably ruined. No matter, she shall know all, and when I am far away, banished from her I hold dearer than my life she will know I loved, and doated on her. (walks about agitated^ then throws hi'tnself on a seat, R., near the small table.) Philippe, (up the stage, l., observing him, then drawing near him) How miserable he seems — poor boy ! Albert, (r.) She will pity me, perhaps, (perceiving Philippe) Ah, Philippe I ^ y Philippe, (l. changing his tone) So, young man, there you are at last. Are you not ashamed of yourself ? ApERT. A truce, good Philip, with your reproaches. I am in no humour to hear them just now. Philippe. But you must hear them, nevertheless. What is the meaning of leading such a life F To give us all such uneasiness— me, in particular, and my lady, too. Albert, (hastily rising) The Countess, did you say? Now, Philippe, is it possible that she knows ? Philippe. She knows all, I have had fine work throw- ing up lies to defend your folly more than I would do for aiyself, but she would hear nothing— she is furious a-gainst you. Albert. There was only that wanting. I could have braved all, but her anger, how shall I meet it? I, who would sacrifice my existence to spare her a single sorrow. Philippe. That’s all very well, all very right, and very proper, but you don’t care then about giving me pain ? Me your champion, your corps-de^reserve, who, whether you ire absent or present, am always at my post to watch over you, to defend you. It seems then you have no friendship 'or me ? ^ Albert. Have I not, Philippe? Nay, nay, do me more ustice, and forgive me ; I am a mad fool— a vile, un^rate- 'ul— but, no, I am unhappy, Philippe, that’s all. ° Philippe. You are unhappy— My dear Al— (checking iimself, and more coldly\ Serve you right— you have been guilty of some folly. I’ll be bound. Albert. One only, at first, which has forced me into wenty others. U. OF ILL LIB. 12 SECRET MARRIAGE. Philippe. Stepped off with the wrong foot ; aye, that plays t/he devil with the line of march— but come, speak out. Albert. I am in love. « .1 . Philippe. In love ? Well, there’s no harm m that ; it s right to be so now and then, provided it never lasts long at a time. _ « , Albert. But it is with one so far above me. Philippe. Tut, tut ! when one is young and tolerably well-formed, distance is all stuff. Well, but this same high one, eh ? who is she ? What is she like, eh r AiBEKT. Oh, if you but knew— but no, I would hide it even from myself. Oh, Philippe, how cruel it is to feel in the inmost recesses of the soul that we could achieve distinction, that we are capable of arriving at the bright eminence of our ambition, and yet see unceasingly berore us some invincible obstacle— a wall of brass, immovable, and insurmountable. To be without a name— without a name ! Those dreadful words ! I think I hear them for ever Aiuppe. Ought that to stop you? Honour is everything ; it is enough to follow it. Honour is the bright goal of life’s career, and when a man has won it the world asks onlv “ how he got there ? ” not “ whence came he ? Abeet. Say what you will, I find it an humiliation which weighs me down. All who visit here regard me with disdain-here, then, I will no longer remain. This house IS become insupportable. I cannot tell you what extravagant thoughts have of late crossed my brain, the nrihcipal, a thirst for fortune— it seemed to me as if mraey would be a sort of merit— I see so many who have no other, so I have played from pure desperation. Philippe. Gambled ? Albert. Like a fool— like a madman. Philippe. And have lost Albert. More than I can pay. PHiLirPE. Albert, that’s bad, very bad. I detest gambler. ^ ^ a AiiHERT, Then von detest me r , -rv x i. Philippe. Detest you, Albert ! {deeply affected) Letst< the point. Here’s your quarter’s allowance, like a corps Albekt. ell? ’twill be something towards it. Philippe. What d’ye mean by something towards it. Albeet. Learn, my good friend, that I have played an betted all the night against Viscount de Brocatelle, whoi SECRET MARRIAGE. 13 I detest. I should have been very glad to have got the better of him, but it was not to be — his fortune was as insolent as his face. I have lost eleven thousand francs. 'Philippe. Eleven thousand francs ! Albekt. Yes, eleven thousand francs, which I borrowed on all hands from my neighbours, friends— the master of the house. I must repay them this very day, and so you see I have nothing else left but to blow out my brains.’ Philippe. Madman! what language is that .P Albert. What should I do when misery pursues me ? Philippe. Stand firm. Would you fly before the enemy ? Albert. Would you have me crawl through the world skulking from a creditor ? JN'o! When one is thus disgraced ’tis best to die. Philippe. Not at all— tis best to pay, Albert. Pay ! How am I to pay eleven thousand francs ? Philippe. Why, I don’t exactly know. Albert. I have been to all my friends. Philippe. Friends— psha! when misfortune knocks at ;he door, friends are not at home. There is only one person who can extricate you. Albert. You mean Lady Emilie, my protectress ? Philippe. You must disclose all to her. Albert. I never can dare do it. I love her much, but I lave a strange fear of her anger. Philippe. Hang fear. Courage, man ! you must meet ler and stand fire ; it shall be your first punishment, and ust in the nick — here she is. (Albert and Philippe go up stage and stand on l. Enter the Countess, r. 2 e. Albert. You will be near me. Philippe. On your flank to support your manoeuvres. the Countess has slowly advanced toicards the c. of the stage, nthout seeing Albert and Philippe.) ^ Albert. She doesn’t see us ; she seems lost in thought, nd looks so stern. Philippe. Oh, I’m accustomed to those looks. March Drward, and don’t tremble. Albert, {advances a little and retreats again) No, I shall ever dare— I cannot— I’ll sooner die. {he flies into his ia^nher, and shuts the door, L. 3 E.) Philippe, {who is a little in advance) Come along, {turns bout, and sees he is gone) Eh! what! flown, and left le to stand the charge alone. B SECRET MARRIAGE. 14 CouKTESS. (i^., raising her eyes) Ahl is it you Philippe? Well, has Albert made his appearance yet? Philippe. Yes, poor lad. , Countess. I hope you have lectured him. {seeing Philippe loohing on all sides) What is the matter ? Why do you look about so ? . . , r „ Philippe. To see that no one is coming, {approaches Countess) for I wish not to be interrupted. Countess. W^hy, what has happened ? Philippe. A little misfortune— a trifle— a mere no- thins. We all know that youth is only a sort of feverisb moment, which lasts more or l^ss, and when the paroxysm' has passed, which unfortunately is a,lways too soon. Countess. Why, where in the world are you rambling to, ^^PmLiPPE.^Mean ! \in a lower tone) The boy has beer gambling. Countess, Albert ! , , . i Philippe. Yes, he has played— he has lost— he owes money, {aside) There— blow upon blow— it s sooner oven Countess. What is it you tell me? The house, then where mv nephew met him • j Philippe. Is nothing more nor less than a gaming-housd but of the highest order— the first society ; so the boy ha been fleeced in the first style ; and now all that is to ^°SouNT*X Pay ! and think you that I will consent to d SO ? that I will encourage such irregularities . that i wi lischarge a gambling debt ? a r Philippe. Yes; it’s eleven thousand francs. Countess. I care not for the sum. It ^ to weif^h the amount when some real good is to be done bura lambling debt-no, Philippe, no-my resolution j taken- I will pay nothing ! (X s to l.) ■ Philippe, (fcecomiwg' warmer) Y^ou will pay nothing ? S^ntess. Ko, certainly not. What would my famr say? What would the world say, if the fortune of t| D’^arancourt’s were to be employed only to repair tl *°PHmPPE.^Yourfomily ! the world ! You stand too muc in awe of them. Countess D’Harancourt ; you have alreac sacrificed too much to them. ?hili™ E.' Fear' nothing. What I have promised I sht not forget— what I have sworn I shall keep sacred , b let the duty of others be done as well. Eecollect that tl SECRET MARRIAGE. 15 )00r young man has only you to look to in the world, and fyou abandonhim— if you suffer him to be dishonoured, le >vill destroy himself. Countess. Oh, heavens ! Philippe. What cares he for life ? As he said but now, ‘ I stand alone, without parents, without hope ; I owe everything to pity.” Countess. Ha ! Philippe. Poor boy ! I looked upon him, and couldn’t elp saying to myself Countess, (evidently alarmed) What Philippe. Nothing, madame; so be tranquil, be happy. Countess. Happy? no, Philippe, no — I am not happy. ( X ’5 K, Philippe. Hot happy — in the midst of splendour, in your ay saloons, surrounded by brilliant crowds that honour ou by a family which you govern according to your wn will and pleasure ? ^ j Countess. And think you, Philippe, that in my inmost eart I desire nothing more ? But I owe to all those who re round me salutary lessons, examples. Philippe. How ! you that Countess, (hastily) I will pay this money I pledge my- df to do so, faithfully, punctually— but do not speak of — not even to him. Philippe. And why not ? Do you fear that he will love DU too much ? Countess. Ah ! can you harbour such a thought ? But y nephew might be surprised at it, and openly complain ; 3U know he is to be heir to my fortune when I am gone. * Philippe. Then that is an additional reason why you lould treat poor Albert well whilst you are here. His allow- ice is not sufficient. Countess. Do you think not ? Well, Philippe, it mav 3 increased. Philippe. Yes, double ; and if you would but address a ind word or so to him. Countess D’Harancourt, indeed )u are too severe with him. Countess. I! Philippe. He is in there, poor fellow, trembling like a jserter. Countess. In there— Albert ? Philippe. If you would only just condescend to tell him th your own mouth that he is pardoned this time Countess. But are you sure that no one Philippe. No, no, there^s no one will come ; you may be 16 SECRET MARRIAGE, good-natured without any fear— you won’t be seen, (the Countess sits near the table, b., Philippe goes towards Albert’s chamber, l., and signs him to a'p'proach.) Philippe, (aside to Albert) Come, I have spoken for you — all’s right. Albert, Is it possible ? Philippe It’s all right, I tell you. and thank her. Countess. Ah, Albert— approach. (pushing him forward) Go, be a good boy, Philippe nearer still Albert. Countess (at R. table.) Go to her— nearer- isiae } I tremble ! . , 7 \ I know all, Sir. (Albebt is going to spMlc) You need not speak. I will not add to the reproaches, which no doubt your conscience makes you. 1 will repair TOur folly, but let not this lesson be lost upon you. Philippe, (l.) {aside) Ahem! Sugar and Vinegar . Albert. Ah! madame it shall never be forgotten, any more than your great goodness. _ _ Philippe. Now it’s all right again, (aside— goes to tne, *** CoHNTESs. Albert, never become a Gamester, I entreat of you. Albert. Never, madame, never. Philippe, (round to R.) He will gamble no more, my ladv : it is very well for once. Countess. You would give me great— very great pam. Albert. I would rather die than to do please you, madame. When I think upon all which have been heaped upon me in this house I, whe have none belonging to me in the world friends' Countess, (holding out her hand to him.) i ou who will never forsake you, whilst you show yourse ; ” h, ,m alw.„ b.-ril , Albert, (hissing the Countess’s hand, with transport Oh always, (she turns away ivith great emotion.) Philips, (r., aside to Countess) That s kind now, ni lady, (aside to himself) If I had been in her place, though I think I should have (males the motion of Countess, (to Albert) And your occupation, your studm —how get you on? Do you never ^ establi&hin, vourself, or acquiring a name in the world . ^ Albebt I have only to take the oath to be admitted a figure for the bar. , There SKCRET MARRIAGE. 17 CousTESs. (astcZe, Albert) He is not amiss— good oloud to Albert) Listen to me, Albert— I have been thinking of your future welfare. All i ask IS, that your own conduct may be no obstacle. albert. Ah ! speak madame— decide my fate. I shall toe but too happy to consecrate my life to you. Countess. I am satisfied. I have in view for you an francT^^ ^ establishment, worth two hundred thousand Albert. {Jjowing) Oh, madame ! Philippe, (l., aside) Hurrah ! Countess. It is the portion of Mademoiselle Dugard : a young, beautiful, and accomplished girl, whom her father will bestow upon you in marriage. Albert, [aside) Oh heavens ! what shall 1 do ? Philippe (aside) I’m ready to dance with joy. (oJserriwr/ Albert.) Why, what’s the matter, didn’t you hear? ^ Countess. Silent ! embarrassed ! Albert, is it thus you meet a proposal that ensures you happiness, and wealth ? albert, (hesitating) Pardon me, madame, but I— I— ■cannot accopt this offer. Countess. How ? Philippe. ( as i Albert) Are vou mad Countess. What says he ? Albert. Deign but to hear me. It ^ consent at once. Albert. Never! rather would I lose my life, (x^s to l.) Elise. Enter Elise, r. 2 e. You appear My dear aunt, what is the matter ? angry. Countess, {loolcmg at Albert) I think I have reason to oe so. Elise. Is it with Monsieur Albert? and you, you, who always take his part I should like to know on this occasion how you can ju^ity him. Eefuse a most advantageous match ! Philippe. A portion of two hundred thousand francs. Countess. A young and beautiful girl ! Elise. Is it possible Monsieur Albert ? 1 Countess. And for what reason ? if I considered myself no longer it liberty, if my heart were previously engaged Countess. And is it so P s i:, . Philippe. Yes, my lady— I had forgotten to tell vou jie IS in love. •' 18 SECKEX MAEEIAGE. Albekt. To my own misery ; but that » the right by marrying to cause the misery of another. Elise. Well now, really aunt, that is honourable at all ^^CouNTE^i^WhatTo be reasonable ?— but Iwill SpeZ sir. who is this secret object of your passion P (to Philippe) perhaps he will tell you. Philippe. Answer sir, who is it I . • • i. Albert It may not pass my lips— nay do not insist. H^ever my heaft may suffer, still I may love her without K guilty, but I could not name her, and not be culpable. Unter De Brocatelle, r. De Broc, Why, what’s become of ye all? I am left quite alone. My pretty cousin, 1 have been looking for you. D* Broc! Youifnow 1 always fall asleep, if so I was amusing myself with turning over your portfolio-some sweet things you have what should fall at my feet, but this ""j broken, as you see. A little Cupid, with all his ac- companiments. Countess. A letter ! De Broc. (r. c.) Addressed to Blise.^ (R. c.j Aoaresseu tu x qir i a, » Albert, (aside, in the greatest agitation) ^y letter . o (c.) Whfl.t is the meaning ot thisr (X s to Countess. (r.) I am perfectly ignorant, aunt, lock at it ^°PmxiPPE. (l. c., aside to Albert, tvho betrays his agita-, tion) What ails you ? , Albert, (l., aside to Philippe) I am undone . Countess, (tuho during this time has opened the lettei) . declaration . ^s the Countess Signed “ Albert.” Countess, (with anger) _What insolence ! My foohsl indulgence has been his ruin. Albert. There’s no hope. All is lost . sX^laVv^e'auL*!!!^, upon my honour ! d“S'oc.'SXw"»1>- '“P‘ distance. SECRET MARRIAGE. 19 Countess. It is enough. Let him this instant leave my house. Elise. Oh, heavens ! Countess, {looking at her niece and Philippe) And I hope that now no one here will dare to take his part. (Elise casts down her eyes.) Albert. Ah, madame, deign to hear me. Countess. Not a single word more ; leave my house, sir. {to De Brocatelle) Viscount, here is the key of my secre- taire, go, make out an order on my banker for one year’s allowance. De Broc. I will, and two for myself. {exit, c. door, Albert. And think you that I will still accept your bounty ? I Philippe, (aside to Albert) Silence ! Elise. Dearest aunt, one word Countess. Elise, to your apartment instantly, I com- mand you. {exit Elise, b. 2 e.) This insolence is past enduring. Philippe, see that my orders are obeyed. ' Albert, leave the palace instantly, (exit Countess, r. 2 e. Albert. Lost, lost for ever. (exit Albert, l. Philippe. Proud, unfeeling woman! You have sealed your doom. Humble though 1 am, you shall yet feel my power, and tremble at the indignation of a poor, but honest man. Philippe, c. Eyiter Elise, r. 2 e. Elise. How improperly Albert has acted, to think of loving me. How extremely wrong 1 And yet young men must love someone or other, and though I agree with my aunt in thinking that perhaps he w^as wrong to love me, yet I infinitely prefer his falling into that mistake, than his loving anybody else. Enter Albert, l. Albert. Elise ! Elise. Albert ! Leave me. (going R.) Albert. One Avord, in pity ! Elise. {still near the door) Impossible ! Albert. In mercy, listen to me for a moment. Elise. I cannot, now ; and my aunt, the viscount — (loohing round, then returning to Albert) If they were to surprise us together, the consequences would be dreadful. Albert. I care little for their anger, it is yours that I dread, and when one word could clear me ■ - — Elise. Clear you ! Oh, I wish it could. 20 SECRET MARRIAGE. Albekt. My secret should have died with me ; I know it, and I betrayed it — the only step which now remains — Elise. Is to run away with me; I suppose. What would my aunt say ? Albert, (tliroiving himself at her feet) ISTo, Elise, I love too dearly to advise what might disturb the happiness of one — 'Enter De Brocatelle, c. d., with a paper in his hand. De Broc. Why, what in the name of all the Gods and Goddesses is this ? Elise. {screams) Ah ! {runs into her apartment, R.) De Broc. (r. laughing) Admirable ! a touch of the pathetic by all the muses. It’s very well that the scene had no other witness than myself. Albert. Enough, sir. De Broc. Enough ! a little too muzh, sir, but I’ll have compassion on you, and not speak of it to my aunt, who doubtless would deprive you of her last favour which I bring you here (presenting him with a hill of exchange) Take it. Albert. Never ! Its being offered by that hand would alone suffice for my refusal. De Broc. What the devil do you mean, sir ? Albert. That I owe respect to my benefactress, but to you, sir, I o\^e nothing, and I will ask you by what right i you — ‘ De Broc. (laughing) Surprised you at the feet of my cousin. Albert. No, sir, possessed yourself of a letter not in- tended for you. An action unworthy of a gentleman. Am I understood? . , i • De Broc. Perfectly, there’s no mistaking the plainness, if not the elegance of your language, but by your leave, this is not quite well of you, Monsieur Albert. ’Gad, be-; cause you are without consequence, without station in the world, you presume upon your advantages to insult me — that’s not generous — my conscience, sir, wouldn’t allow me to draw on such a rival. , xt. Albert, (bitterly) True, true, your name and birth would render the combat unequal. De Broc. Not so fast, my good friend, you misconceive me there. To speak of rank and distance is no longei*the fashion, nor is such my intention, for now-a-days, with or without birth, all are alike with arms in hand— all I meant to allude to was, your peculiar situation in this house. SECRET MARRIAGE. 2 1 Albekt. I am no longer an inmate of it. I am banished from it, De Broc. You ought at least to remember what you I have received in it. , Albert. I do. Favours from the aunt, and insults from the nephew the account is balanced, and if you are not a coward , De Broc. [astonished) Heyday ! Monsieur Albert, you forget yourself with a vengeance, and since you think proper to disparage my courage, I see I must take the trouble to give you a lesson. Albert. Perhaps, sir, your proud spirit may receive one. De Broc. Well, sir, your pugnacious spirit shall not be disappointed. Your arms Albert. What you please. De Broc. The sword ? Albert. Agreed. De Broc. Your second ? Albert. I need none. De Broc. The place ? Albert. The wood. De Broc. The hour ? Albert. How. De Broc. With all my heart. Albert. I follow you in an instant. ^ De Broc. I’ll wait for you with all due patience, and if you are wise, you will not hurry. I . [exit De Brocatelle, c. d. Albert. ’Tis well, he is a skilful swordsman — I am not. It will be the sooner over— I shall be relieved from an existence which is a burthen, since I shall see my Elise no more, as this very day I must quit my only refuge Enter Philippe, c. d. Philippe, (l. overhearing Albert’s concluding ivords\ Quit it! Hot yet! Albert. What say you ? Philippe. That I have been speaking for you. Albert. You were forbidden to do so. Philippe. I don’t care for that. Listen to me, you are lOt to leave this house. Albert. Can it be possible? and how have vou been ible to obtain the concession ? Philippe. On two conditions — for which I have become inswerable. Albert, [ivith fervour) And which I agree to beforehand. 22 SECRET MARRIAGE. Philippe. The first is, that you are to shun Elise, and are never to repeat to her a single word like what you had written. Albert, (l. aside) Confusion ! I am already guilty. Philippe, [austerely) What is that you say ? Albert. ISTothing, and the second condition. Philippe. That you will behave with all respect to the viscount, make him if possible, your friend, and by way of beginning, as he certainly has a right to be offended about your letter this morning, the Countess peremptorily requires of you to make an apology to her nephew. Albert, An apology — to my rival — to the author of my disgrace — a man whose daily pleasure it is to pursue me with insult upon insult. Apology ! I am hastening this* instant to fight him. Philippe. To fight ! Albert. Yes, though certain death awaited me, I will listen only to my just wrath. I have his word, and he has mine. The time and place are fixed. Philippe. To fight ! Albert. I have not an instant to lose — he shall not wait. Give me my sword, and Philippe. With swords, too! Albert. Yes, we have agreed, [looking at Philippe) Why you tremble, Philippe. Is it with fear ? Philippe, [agitated) Perhaps — ’tis possible — for I now feel for you what I never yet felt for myself, [ivitli in^ creasing emotion) Fight ! You, who scarcely know how to hold a sword. Albert. No matter. Philippe. And he is a practised duellist. Albert. I care not. ( Philippe. You are running to certain destruction. ; Albert. Well, let my fate be sealed — what have I to do { here ? Thrown alone upon the world — unknown who I am, and perhaps with cause to blush if I did know — with- out parents, without family. ' Philippe. And I — I am then nothing to you. Albert, (hastily seirAng his hand) Yes, yes, I forget — you, you alone, Philippe ; you have always loved me, I know it. Even now, you are affected, your eyes are wet with tears. Philippe, [vnth great emotion) Well, then, by my long affection for you, by these tears, which your danger forces from me, give up this cursed design. Albert. How ? SECRET MARRIAGE. 23 feeling) Albert, my friend, my ^ild, 1 beg of you, I ask it on my knees— not for Countess JJ Marancourt s sake, whose kindness for you, you would so iU requite, not for Elise’s sake, whom you are going to render a thousand times more wretched, but for mine yes, Albert, for me, for your old Philippe, who was at your birth, who carried you in his arms— forget, I con- jure you, the folly of an empty coxcomb. Albeet. Forget it— never ! Time flies quick, Philippe, give me my sword. ^ Philippe, [coldly) [N^o, sir. Albert. How! Philippe. You shall not go. Albert. What is’t you dare to say ? Phil^pe. That since you are deaf to my prayers, to the voice or friendship, and choose to forget your duty, I will tulhl mine — you shall not go. Albert. And who shall prevent me ? Philippe. Philippe ! You are under my custody — I’m your sentinel, [shuts the c. n., and takes out the key.) Albert, (l., turns round, and perceives it) How! and do you dare ? Philippe. To save you in spite of yourself— yes, sir, Ido. I have told you that you should not go out, and you shall not go out. Albert. [icHh a strongly agitated voice) What insolence ^ Philippe, give me the key. Philippe. Ho, sir. Albert, [violently) Dread my anger ! Philippe, {commandingly) I dread nothing, and I forbid you to stir. Albert, [beside himself ) Forbid me! I cannot bear it longer— and your insolence Philippe. Stop ! Albert, [raising his arm) Shall be thus chastised Philippe. Wretch ! Strike then your father ! Albert. My father ! [sinks on his knees.) Philippe. Yes your father. You have wrung from me a secret that should have died with me — that fatal secret of which 1 have been the suffering victim, I had hitherto kept locked in my breast, for the sake of your happiness— and I baye revealed it, ungrateful boy, to save you from a crime. Albert. I dare not lift my eyes. Philippe. You are ashamed I doubt not to find that you Dwe your being to a servant. Albert. Hever, never ! Oh, think it not. SECRET MARRIAGE. 24 Philippe. I have only one word to say to you : That servant was a soldier when you first saw tbe light, full ot ardour and courage— a brilliant career was open before me for at that time it was either to be slam or become a general. Well, boy, glory, prospects of fortune, even the hope of dying honourably on the field of battle i sacri- ficed all— all to remain near my son— to watch over his youth. I have not feared to expose myself to scorn— to humble myself to the lowest employments— to become his servant, (Albert is strongly affected) I ^^ve never blushed at it— not 1 ; I said to myself “ my child will love me, no matter how, and that is enough for me.” Albert. Ah, how can I ever repay so much goodness f how expiate my faults ? [throws himself into Philippe’s arms) My father? {with affection) Oh, how consoling is that name— how sweet to pronounce it. I have now a friend— a family ; I am no longer alone in the world, (he embraces Philippe again, who presses him tenderly to his bosom^ Philippe, {wiping aivay his tears) Dear boy, be calm. Albert. But for pity’s sake tell me— explain to me. ^ Philippe. Not a word regarding this mystery— a sacred promise— an oath. Oh, let no one suspect that I have broken it ; but now— now will you refuse still to obey me . Albert, (warmly) No, no, what must I do , opeak . Philippe. Well then return this instant to your chamber. . Albert. How ! he’s waiting for me he expects me. Have you no confidence in me ? Albert. Oh yes, every confidence — but surely sir, you , should perceive that it behoves me now more than ever, with tenfold ardour to vindicate my honour, for now it _ ’“Sn-OTE^^hatismylookout. A soldier knows quite; as well as you, what honour requires of him. i Albert, (aside) Confusion! and that is the only door—; ’tis impossible to escape. (aZowd) Let me beseech you, siry Philippe. Go in, I tell you— I beg, I entreat it of you. | Albert, (liesitating) Father ! >3i Philippe, [with dignity) I command you. Albert, (overcome) I obey, (he boxes respectfully, and re-, tirfs to his chamber, L. Philippe followmg him with his eyes-he then goes to the c. d., and replays the hey.) J ^Philippe. Yes, I guess what he must suffer, and I \oj6 him the more for it-but no one shall rob me of the on]j consolation left me, and it is my duty before all else oh, here is the Countess. I SECRET MARRIAGE. 25 Enter Countess e. Countess, (l.) Well Philippe, have you seen him ? Hava you made him acquainted with my orders ? Philippe, (e.) I have. Countess. {looUng at Philippe) Why, what has passed between you ? You seem agitated. Philippe. I was just in time— lie was going out to fi^ht Countess, {with alarm) To fight. ^ ’ Philippe. With your nephew. Countess. Gracious heaven ! Philippe. Fear nothing. I have ordered him to confine piimself to his chamber. Countess. But will he obey ? Philippe. He knows that i am his father. Countess. Ha! Philippe. Be calm, he knows no more. But to the point —these young men have challenged each other, and they will keep their word. I can feel for Albert, and had your nephew so insulted me, as he has done my boy, I would have struck him to the earth, though twenty stars had glittered on his breast. o ^ aix Countess. Philippe! Philippe. Time presses, my son loves your niece. Countess, (with displeasure) I know it. Philippe, "^ur nephew loves only her portion— let Albert marry Elise. ^ Countess, (sharply) Have you the presumption Philippe, (coolly) It must be, madame. Countess. And have you for a moment imao’ined I would consent to such an union ? ° Philippe. It m>ust be, I tell you. Countess. You do not consider, Philippe — what — bestow !ny niece upon an obscure youth ? — Philippe. I beg of 70U-— In mercy, grant it. Countess, I will not, I tell you. (proudly) Have done, L hihppe— you strangely forget what is due to me, and what you are. Philippe, (with strong indignation) Who I am ! It is jou who forget it — but I will refresh your memory. Countess, (with uneasiness) Philippe! Philippe, (taking her hand) Hear me! When the ^tence of proscription fell upon you and your family yhenalone, and torn froma beloved mother, youwereabout o pay with your life for the lustre of your name, where 26 SECRET MARRIAGE. •was it that you fled, to seek a refuge ? Tuder the tent of a soldier, under mine, for then it was there alone that pity could be found, and thousands of generous hearts beat with noble feeling under the simple uniform ; I sheltered you-I hid you at the risk of my life, there was nothing heard then about rank and distowce— de- struction hovered over you, and when death is near, human equality begins. , -r., -v i Countess, {hiding her face) rnilippe . Philippe, [continuing) Yes, I was young, I was brave, but I was nothing more than a soldier, a common soldier. The nursuit was hot, and under a feigned name you married me, followed me abroad— years elapsed, and your familv being restored to rank and fortune, you returned, and by a well-framed tale, a lie, which I, to feed your vanity and pride, concurred in, regained your station in society. Albert was an adopted child, the offspring of your bounty, whilst I, your husband, unknown oy all, con- founded in the crowd of your servants, have never given breath to a single complaint, to a single murmur, [wtth deep feeling) Nay, more, have doomed mjself to see in^ son brought up an object of chanty in the house of his ^ mother, who, to feed her pride, robs him of ms rights I have condemned myself never to fold him in my arms, to love him only in secret, by stealth, and now as my rewar ^ I ask of you but to secure the happiness of your own child and you refuse it. , . i . t £ Countess. T do it with a bleeding heart, but I am forced to it. This marriage can never take place. Philippe. ISlever! t t Countess, [attemyting to go out) Never ! Leave me. Philippe, (forcibly detaining her) No, madame , , not leave you. I have sacrificed myself to your ^epose— ; to your vanity, but in return for so many tortures, so “any ; humiliations, I must have the happiness of my son— 1 will have it, and I’ll obtain it by every means, even by tnat, ^’cOTOTEs^s^'^What'do I hear ? And your duty-your ^th ? Philippe. And do you speak of oaths, of duty r -htav you fulfilled your own ? 7\ nne Countess, (perceiving Henry s approach) bome one comes. Silence, I conjure you. (Philippe immediately re sumes a respectful demeanour, the Oouktess retires from him, and gains the l. of stage,) Enter Henry, c. d. Henry. Monsieur Philippe ! SECKET MARRIAGE. 27 I Countess, (e.) What now? Heney. (tIowK L.) I beg pardon, my lady, it is Monsieur ^hilippe I was looking for, to deliver you this note which the porter has ]ust brought up. Philippe {talcing the letter) Why— there is no address. ilENEY. It is for you, sir— the messenger who brought it some quarter of an hour ago, said it must be delivered to you immediately. ^ Henry, c. d. il ^ I^HILIPPE. (ojoemng the letter — casts his eyes on the -first nnes, and utters a loud excla'ination) Ah ^ Countess. What’s the matter ? Can it be .!>-(7ie drops the letter, and mrsts into Albert s chamber, l. 3 e.) ' Countess. Albert! what said he? what new misfortune i* sue takes up the letter, and reads rapidly) “ Mv friend mv ather pardon if I disobey you, but now, less than ever, an I live disgraced— son of a soldier, no one shall call me, oward— Adieu! In an instant I shall be revenged or ease to exist ” Is it possible? Albert! rPHiLiPPE returkna Mle, and agitated, L. 3 li.) Philippe. He is gone— the window is open— he is gone! sinhtng upon a seat) I shall see him no more — he is dead —lost to me for ever. Countess, Ho, no, there is time yet to prevent iE liter Henry, c. [inhere is my nephew ? , Henry. He left the house some time ago. ^ Countess. And Albert— did you see him go out ? I enry. Yes, my lady, I saw him get into a coach. Countess. Take horse-haste to my nephew’s-he must . round, wheresoever he is, tell him I wait for him I ish to see him immediately, this instant. {exeunt Henri, c. to l Countess, (supplicating) Philippe ! He will be restored courage, his adver- Xace. ’ without receiving a mother’s Countess. Philippe ! Philippe, [with force) It is your pride. It is you who bve murdered him. j vvuu Countess a scream, and hiding her face) Ho, no will not die. Heaven will have pity on us. Elise my 28 SECRET MARRIAGE. fortune — my life — I will give up all, if Albert be saved to us. Philippe. Too late, too late ! the blow is struck. Enter Elise, l. d., hastily, and with joy, Elise. Oh, my dear aunt, here he is, here he is. Philippe. ] and > Who ? Countess. J Elise. Your nephew. Countess, {sinhing on a chair) All is over. Enter De Brocatelle, c. from l. Philippe, {staggering bach) He is alone — my boy is dead* De Broc. {gaily, down c.) Well, what in the world is the matter with you all? {a'pproaching the Countess) Aunt, you know it seems ? Countess, (r. c.) Leave me! leave me I (§2^5 r.) De Broc. And you were afraid I should be hurt, how. kind! Compose yourself, and be happy, my dear aunt, here I am safe and sound. Philippe, (l. with fury) Follow me ! old as I am, you shall answer this. 5 De Broc. Heyday ! Why, what’s the matter with the man P Philippe, {as before) Let us hence. I De Broc. What ! to go to his assistance ? It is perfectly * unnecessary, my good friend, his wound is nothing — a mere scratch — done with the greatest delicacy. Philippe. You have not killed him ? De Broc. Killed him ! no, ’pon my honour ! Had he been a good swordsman, I certainly should have killed him, but ; he is so excessively awkward — that ’gad he was very near ^ killing me. | Philippe. How ! I De Broc. I had at first wounded him in the hand — mere scratch — a trifle not worth feeling, so I stopped.^ directly, saying to him, “that’ll do, sir, quite enough.”; “Enough,” cried he — recovering his sword — “no, one of' us must fall upon the spot, defend yourself,” and he rushed upon me like a madman, without grace, without method,, which is quite insufferable to one who fights by rule, and whilst laughing, I begged of him to hold his weapon more genteely, he whipped mine out of my hand in ai twinkling. Philippe. He disarmed you ? De Broc. Contrary to all the principles of the art ! I SECRET MARRIAGE. 29 must confess lie then acted like a perfect man of honour i-alou^nd SrS’ The bl^ood of the D’Harancourt’s. should fall' hJl: said he, “I had resolved one of us Phiiippe, (l.) The blood of the old soldier. Enter Albert, c. d., Ms wrist hound wp with black handker. All. Albert ! into the arms o/ Philippe) My lalS^^^auf enough. My sonTlj SnT ^ "’'^^"”" pWde a«d satisfaction) .^ ) You forgive me, do you not ? BO muSi ^ frighten us all ALB.BRT. Elise! Countess, (aside, and alone at r.) And to me he speaks ^beit;‘’“‘^’ i>asstMy between Broca telle and Elise) tr^m™' Ah! pardon me. madame. I Countess. And why, Albert ? Do you think that T ran ever forget, or repay the debts I owe you ? ^ ^ Albert, lhat you owe me, madame 1 galC“Thatf'soSdy^w^^^^^^^^ £e.re=;;.ro« “S”- De Broc. (r.) Upon mankind, in general. _ Countess. Indeed! then the debt is greater than I Sy eS ^ manner^wortty of ouJ fuS^huSlnA “ Albert receive yo« ru^re Husband, (passes Elise to Albert.) ^ JtLisE. Can it be possible ? ^^BERT. Oh, happiness ! »ifh dear aunt, bestow an heiress. Xntlfre?? per annum upon a nameless De^Br^®' gratitude to mankind in general. PhiSpm so infernally expensifo. ^hilippe. Yes, that accounts for the scarcity of the 30 SECRET MARRIAGE. Countess. And as for his want of name, I will suppl] that deficiency, redeem the past, and at once declare that in Philippe, the faithful, the humble steward, you behold my husband ; in Albert, our only son. Albekt. [rushing to Countess) My mother ! ^ De Broc. As pretty a bit of romance as I ever read*. The adventures of a lady of quality, interspersed with anecdotes of Philippe, [to the Yiscount, c.) Who, sir? De Broc. My uncle. Philippe. Madame, this declaration has been unsought hy me. I asked but for the happiness of my son, that ^ ecured, I cared not for myself, but sinceyoii have dispelled 1 be mystery which hung around us, I will promise the Countess D’Harancourt she shall have no cause for regret, and iiyou [to audience) will honour Philippe the old soldier with your approbation, his happiness will be perfect. Db Brocatelle. Countess. Philippe. Elise B. . Albert. I'- CUBTAIJSr. ■ ’‘I • 1 EXPLANATIONS OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS. ^ The Actor is supposed to face the Audience u. E. C. C. D. D. L. C. B. V. S. SCENE. L. U. B. B. 3 B. £. 2e. £i 1 B. B. / \ \ L.3b. L.2 B. L. I B, \ s. c. X — me X c Left Centre X 1 E Left First Entrance X 2 E Left 2nd Entr.mce X S & Left Third Entrance C. rherever the scene maybe k 2 e Right Xnd Enti enn L. C. L. wherever the scene maybe D L c Door Left Centre C Centre s Riglit K 3 E Right 3rd Entrance HUE Right Uppe r Entini D R c Door Right Cetitre UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 043298071