^^^H ^floi^j ^^^^^^^^^H .H12S3 ! ^^^^^^^1 1898 i 1 ■ H - 1 rb' o' . -o„o- V<- O :pJS rtr-a : w <; ♦^ i-i > ^^,§£^ ., S S 2 a o si CO C^ 'WH^ o .*: ^ "-> s s ssssisiisssa 2^ o H . 03_; - " -%j 2 ^ ^ ^ ?S2-^a m C. c3 o t3 ;;-3 O g ^i ^■3 $^1^ PhE-cSmS Sfi.ao ^ 'o :£." ? ' a'o5 ] oE-i ^ ^-g o «>- Ho C P J * S^. >< 72 a 1^ ^ "a - i [; O ,75 -4 SOEITEEY AND SYNOPSIS. FIFTH AVENUE THEATRE, Jan. 10, 1874.) ACT I. The Academy of Design on a Reception Niunx (by Duflocq; •xhibiting the following rare paintings, by special consent of the artists : " Lake Thunr Switzerland By J. A. Richards, N. A. " Sunset at St a" By E. MoREAN. " Helen of Troy" By B. F. Reinhart. " Iris " From Snedicors. The Adventure of a "Personal." The white rosebud and the blue rosette. An artistic effort of thirty years demolished. Two MCJTHS. ACT II.— Congress Springs at Saratoga (by Witham).— Tasting the waters.— A White Mountain Runaway !— and the secret of a dozen warm kisses. Two HouKS. ACT III. — The Wood near Moon Lake (by Roberts.)— A picnic tableau. [The Scene opens with a Trio, suug by Miss Fanny Davenport, Miss Minnie Conway, and Miss Nina Varian -seconded by Mr. Hart Conway and Mr. J. Q. PeakesJ. —Hunting Ducks ! ! ! and three claimants for one Bob 1 One Hour, ACT IV. — Parlours at the " Union !"— Coffee and Pistols for Seven 1 1 1 Ten Minutes. ACT V. — Private Parlour No. 73 (by Witham). — A Mysterious Echo Chamber— with a skeleton in every closet ! -A queer entanglement neatly un- ravelled, COSTUMES. First Act. —Full evening or opera dress. Second Act. — Handsome afternoon or walking dress. Third Act. — Summer picnic dresses. Ladies in white. Gentlemen In light flannel suits ; straw hats with blue ribbons, &c. Fourth Act. —Ladies same as in Act Third on first entrance ; all change to rich dinner and evening dresses before second entrance. Fifth Act. — Same as at end of Fourth Act. NOTE FOR STAGE MANAGER. Special Attention should be given to the climax scenes of Act Second and Act Third. These scenes are very effective if properly acted, and very flat if not properly acted. Their effect depends upon the instantaneous respon.st; of every actor to his or her cue. If there is a moment's hesitation on the part of any one the interest di-ops, and it cannot be revived. The phrases, "Go on, Mr. Benedict," re. [17ie Artist goes out with j)arty l. f. motioning as if talking earnestly. Livingston (l). Oh! whatadarlingpicture— the clouds are so very delicate — as fleecy — and as light as wool or— - or cotton, they look so very real. The Major (l. c). They do look rea^— remarkably like cotton in that respect, Miss Livingston. Livingston. And the water is so exactly like real water — it seems as though you could bathe in that little brock No — it isn't a brook— it's only a stone fence in the fore- ground. The Major. That's a very odd mistake. No gentleman could make it. I never mistook a stone fence for water in my life. Livingston. No. 273. What is the subject of this one, Major Whist ] The Major {reading from catalogue). " A Landscape " I should almost have expected as much if I hadn't seen the catalogue— tliese artists are particularly delinite in their choice of titles. [The Artist re enters ivith a lady and gentleman — ]:>roceeds to motion before painting as before. Ogden (r. c). Oh! Sir Mortimer. You Enghsh gentlemen have travelled so much, and seen so many pictures, you must favour us with your criticisms as you go along, I do so dote on English gentle 1 mean I do so dote on pictures, Sir Mortimer. Sir Mort. (r.). Y-e-s. Ogden {sits c). What do you really think of this one, for instance 1 You mustn't be too severe on our American artists. Sir Mort. {looking at pictu?^) Well— a-h— y-e-s — I- a-h — strong, decidedly strong ; we can — ah — hardly compare American artists with Eaphcton. Kicli, piquant, wild as a young hawk, an heiress too; half the fellows in JS'ew York are in love with her. {Limkincj off i,.) Ah! and tliere is Miss Virginia Vanderpool — another of our belles — with Mr. Cornelms Wethertree — the elderly bachelor — who lias made love to every niarringeable young lady within his reach for the last thirty years or more. Sib Most. She's a denccdiy charming girl! isn't she, major? A deuccdly charming girl. The Majok. The Vanderpool you mean ? Yes. a devilish fine girl, my dear Sir Mortimer, but very expensive tastes; she declines to ride behind anything less ilian three mmutes on the road. It will pay tlie lucky one among her admirers in the end, however — her father owns half a dozen railr ads, and a branch of National Banks. I've shufflfd the cards in that direction myself. I tliink it will pay in the end. Sir Mort. But I vias speaking of tiie otiier, my dear major — I referred to the Beniingtou. Charming girl. 'J HE Major. Ciiarminii! yes. Her father is nearly as rich as Papa Vandei-pool himself. Sir Mort. But seriously I referred to the young lady's persona/ charms. The Major. And so did I. Old Remington is worth more than half a million — his daughter Effie is his only child— could anybody's charms be more 'personal" than that ? [Thejf walk up. The Major afterwards strolls out at his leisure. Enter Virginia Vandf.rpool and Wethertree, l. 1. e. Wethketree. The picture of "Cupid sharpening his Arrows " is in the west room. Miss Vanderpool — a very pain- ful subject to me, however. Miss Virginia — especially when one of liis arrows is at tliis moment — Virginia. Ah ! Mr. Wethertree, you know how to make such delightful speeches. Enter Mrs. Alston, e. 1. E. Mrs. a. Ah ! Virginia, my Icve. Virginia. My dear Olivia. {They meet and kis^.) Wethertree {i/ittinc/ r.). Upon my word, ladies, I envy you both, I do upon my life. 1 — 3 10 SARATOGA. [ACT 1. Virginia (l.). Oh, you nau<»lity man. I was only just telling liim, Mrs. Alston, that he knew so well how to make those deli^ihtful speeches. Mrs. a. (c). 1 iiave frequently noticed it myself. Wethertree {bowing). You flatter me, ladies. Mrs. a. How could it be otherwise with so many long yeai's of experience ? Wfthertref. A-h-e-m {tum'mcj mvay). Mrs. a. Ah ! Sir Mortimer Muttonle2:g. Sir Mart. i$ p/isiiii(/ d'ltvn L. Miss Virj^inia Vaiiderpool — Sir Mortimer. Sir Mort. (l.). Ladies ! Mrs. a. (c). Mr. Cornelius Wethertree studyinjj American art and American society at the same time, my dear Sir Mortimer. Sir Mort. Y-e-s — I — a-h— find it a very agreeable — a-h combination — in fact — I — a-li^by-the-\vay, Mrs. Alston, you are a — very beautiful — a-h — combination of nature and art yourself. [Shr hows to him. Wethertree (r.). And it would require a very acute ob- server of both nature and art, madam, to discover wliere one leaves off and tlie other begins — ha ! lia ! ha ! Mrs. a. (afier bowing to Wethertree). Really, gentlemen — you are so very complimentary — allow me to return the com- pliment. Sir Mortimer, tliough art, perhaps, deserves the gr^^ater share of credit. As for yourself, Mr. Wethertree, nature asserts herself so strongly there — she is fast crowd- ing art aside. Wethertree. Ahom ! [Weth. turns up r. Sir Mort. l. Mrs. a. Virginia, love, have you decided where to spend the summer yet ? Virginia. We are going to Saratoga. Mrs. a. Delightful, my dear, I am going to the Springs also. Virginia. Father says we shan't, but that doesn't make any difference, you know. Enter Effie, r. 1. E. looking cautiously r. and L. Mrs. a. Of course not, my clear. Poor doar Alston ! he used to be so determined not to go to Long Branch or Sara- toga. There isn't half the interest in going now that I am a widow, and can do as I please. Sir Mort. [looking at Effie). Deuced fine girl. Wethertree {also louking at ha-). That is a magnificent ereature. Mrs. a. (seeing Effie). Why Effie dear. Effie. Eh — oh — how you startled me, Alston. (Kisses h(r.) Vanderpool, my dear. {Kisses her.) Wethertree. I shouldn't mind being in Mrs. Alstou'i lace. Act 1.] SARATOGA. 11 Sir Mokt. {up stnrjr). I — a-h — rather envy Miss Van derpool. Mrs. a. JNot alone, my dear EfEe, at tbe reception. Wliore is your papa ? Effie. I left father disru-sing the question of pre-Ka- pliaelitp art. whatever tliat may be, with another old jjentle- man that knows as little about the subject as papa does. H-s- h — {Pultln;/ her hands to her lips mysterianslt/, then takiiiff tliem hy the wrisis and moving furward.) H-s-h, J'm on a lark to-nii,'ht. ]\1bs. a. a lark? ViKGiNiA. ^V hat's the fun now ? Effie. H-s-h, it's an awful lark. I wouldn't tell you wiiat it is for the world ; there will be a row if papa finds it out. Virginia. Yes. Oh ! that's real jolly ; but won't you tell us H Effie. Not now, perhaps T will some other time, ha— ha — ha ! Oh, but it's an awful lark. I say, girls, have you made up your mind where you're going to spend the summer'? I'm going to Saratoga. Virginia. Isn't that splendid, Alston % So are we. Effie. Ha — ha— that'll be jolly. Father says I sha'n't go to Saratoga, but I'm getting ready all the same, and when the time comes I'll pat him under the chin, and I'll put my arms around his neck, and I'll pinch his cheeks, and every time he goes to say " No," I'll put my lips over his mouth, and I shan't let him open his lips until he says " Yes." Wethertri<;e and Sir Mort. come down r. and L. Wethertree (l.) and Sir Mort. (r.). Ahem 1 A-h-e-m. Mrs. a. Sir Mortimer Muttonlegg — Miss Effie Remington. Virginia. Mr. Cornelius Wethertree. YL' hey bow very low. Wethertree. Delighted to make your acquaintance, Miss Kemington. Sir Mort. (r.). Positively charmed to meet you, Miss Re- mington. Weth. I assure. Miss Remington, that nothing Sir Mort. Nothing could possibly Weth. and Sir Mort. I \They ai^proach c. until their heads meet in front of 'E.YVl^, they look at each other and then turn up stage indignantly. Mrs. a. Ha— ha. A double conquest, Eflie. Virginia. Two birds with one shot Effie. Down on both alleys. Mrs. a. Tell me, Eftie ; with all your little conquests and your flirtations, is there no one yet — with a moustache, for instance, and with fascinating manners, you know, — is Ihere no cue that calls for a genuine sigh now and then ] 12 SARATOGA. [aCT 1. Effie. Heigho ! Y-e-s, he has got a moustache. Mrs. a. and Virg. Ha — ha — ha, Effie. Isn't there some one, Alston, that you are par- ticularly partial to ? Mrs. a. Well, I'm a woman, and we women must be petted, you know. How is it with Virginia % Virginia. Heigho, I am a woman too, I suppose. P]ffie. I once thought I never should care for one man more than another, men are all so stupid after you know them. But when Robert Mrs. a. Robert ! Virginia. Robert ! why that is the name of my— {checks heiselj). Mrs. a. How very odd ; mine is named Robert also. Effie. Yours Robert, and yours; why isn't it funny 1 What's his last name, Virginia 1 Virginia. Oh ! that's a secret. Effie. A secret. That's real nice ; tell us all about it. Virginia. But it's a real secret ! What's your Robert's last name '? Effie. That's a secret, too. Virginia. Yes ; tell us all about it. Effie. Oh, but it's a real secret. Olivia, what's the last name of your Robert] Mrs. a. (r.c). If you young girls can keep a real secret, surely a widow can be equally profound. But what an odd fancy, Effie,— a rosette upon your shoulder. Effie. Do you think it pretty '? It's only a fancy of mine for to-night. I say Vanderpool ! Alston ! don't let these fellows stay around me ; I have other business to attend to now ; take 'em with you when you go. Mrs. a. My dear Sir Mortimer, I was looking for Bier- stadt's picture in the East Room, will you join me 1 Sir Mort. (r.). Certainly — a-h— only too happy, of course. (Aside.) Confoundedly awkward. I began to hope we should be left alone. [Mrs. A, takes Ms arm. Virginia. You were going to show me the picture of Cupid and his arrows, in the West Room, Mr. Wethertree? Weth. Certainly : I — ah ! — (aside) — I wish Cupid and his arrows were shot. [Weth. and Virg. go r., Mrs. A. and Sir. M.go l. Weth Good-afternoon, Miss Remington. Sir Mort. Au revoir. Miss Remington. YBoth i^oing. They see handkerchief which Effie drops. Both gentlemen run to pick it tip. Sir Mort. gets it. Then Effie drops her fan, which Wethertree pick^ up ; they both bow. Meet each other c. ; as before, draw ACT 1.] SARATOGA. lo u}) indignintly. Eetiirn to their ladies, and exeunt r. and L., leaving Effie alone. Effie (alone). Now f(»r my lark: he was to have on a white rose-bud, tied with a white ribbon. Let me see — {looks at watch) — oh ! it's fifteen minutes yet. I was to have the rosette — [arranging it) : that's right. I wonder what sort o' looking man he is. I know what I'll do : I'll keep my hand over the rosette, and if I don't like his looks, when I see the rose-bud, I'll steal away and I'll take off the rosette, and he will never know that any one was here to see hiui at all I — Ha, ha, ha! {Going l.I.e. Ladies c/^cZ Gentlemen cross as she is going out l. !She stares at the Gentlemen s lapelles. When iJiey look in return, she draivs up with dignity, and passes L.) Oh, but it's an awful lark ! {^Exit L. arch. Enter Benedict, followed by Robert Sackett, upstairs. Ben. Hold on, Bob. What the deuce ! Fifteen minutes of nine ; exactly fifteen minutes a-head of time : that's not what I call punctuality. Punctuality is on time exactly to the minute. Five minutes after time, a broken engagement. Fifteen minutes a-head of time, a quarter of an hour lost. Punctuality neither loses time nor keeps an appointment waiting. Regularity, my dear Sackett, absolutely, regularity should be the rule of every man's life. Regularity has beeu the rule of my life ; I am a success. Regularity is the rule of nature. Nature is a success. But this appointment of yours at nine o'clock. You haven't told me as yet what the nature of the appointment is. Whom are you to meet ] A hundred to one it's a woman. You have been as glum all the afternoon as if you had just buried your lirst wife, and the lady you had chosen for your second was about to marry another man. Sack. My dear Benedict, if you love me, don't trifle with a subject so sacred as that of matrimony. Wedlock ! Two souls in the fond embrace of everlasting love ] Two hearts that beat eternally in unison — two Ben. Two mouths to feed, two sets of limbs to clothe, too much, too long, too many children, too two fools Sack. You don't appreciate the sublimity of love. Ben. Oh ! certainly 1 do. The sublimity of love is the regular thing at our age. I was in love myself once, subli- mity and all. It is, without exception, the most disagree- able memory of my life ; I couldn't be regular in anything, except my meals. Why, I actually forgot to wind my watch three mornings in succession. Sack. You say you were in love; you didn't marry the girl^ it seeius. 14 BARATOGA. [aCT 1. Brn. Beins a baclielor still, I cert;iinly did not. The lady jilted me, .and married another gentleman. She did better, however, than if she had married me. Her husband died in less than three years — I didn't. She is now a daslnng widow, the envy of uer own sex and the admiration of ours. Sack. Ah ! Benedict — Benedict, it is plain you have never loved as I love. Bkn. No ; I dare say I haven't. Sack. I am an utterly wretched individual ; the fact is, I'm in a quandary. Ben. M , in . The lady who has secured your af- fections does Udt return your love] Sack. She adores me. We are engaged to be married. Ben. (r.). She is poor, perhaps ; what of that 1 You have an income. Sack. Her father has retired from Wall Street, with six or eight railroads in his vest pocket. BiiN. Her parents object to the match 1 Sack. Her pai'ents never saw me, and they haven't the slightest idea that I'm engaged to their daughter. Ben. Ah, I see ; the time has come for you to declare your love, and you are in suspense as to the result? Sack. Quite the contrary. I'm not in tlie least suspense. Ben. Well, but if you really love the girl Sack. Really love her ! Never man loved woman before as I love Virginia. Her name is Virginia ; beautiful name, isn't it 1 Ben. Very well, my dear fellow ; if you love the girl Sack. My dear Benedict, please don't say "if I love the girl." My love is as fixed as the fixed stars themselves : please don't say, "//I love the girl." Ben. Well, you love the girl — the girl loves j''ou — you feel no misgivings about the final result. I cannot see where the ditiicalty lies ; you said you were in a quandary ! Sack. Y-e-s, so I a)n. The fact is, Jack, I'm engaged to another girl also. (Benedict starts). I know it isn't quite regular, Jack ; but it's true. Ben. {after a 2^ause). M — , m — , that is awkward. How- ever, if you have been imprudent, my dear Bob, the manly, regular course is to acknowledge your error as soon as pos- sible. Say to the other girl, at once, that you do not love her— and Sack. Not love her, my dear Jack ! I love Effie devotedly — her name is EfRe. I adore the very earth she steps upon. Not love my Effic ! Ah ! Benedict, Benedict, it is evident you have never loved as I love. Den. No! egad I haven't; on€ woman at a time V7aJ enough for me. ACT 1.] SARATOGA. 15 Sack. We're engaged to be married. Her father is an elderly brute ; being a father, of course he couldnt be any- thing but a brute. He's a gruff old coon, a rich old widower, he has never permitted my acquaintance, nor tolerated my advances. He is more jealous of his daughter than of lii> gold. But Effie and I see each other two or three times a week, and we are as happy as ever two young lovers wer^ in the world. Bes. Of course, then, now that you and Effie are sn happy, you'll speak to Virginia like a man, and say that you've ceased to love her, and Sack. Ceased to love Virginia ! My dear Benedict, I love Virginia from the bottom of my heart. Ben. Oh ! very well, then, you will say to Effie that you have ceased to love her, and Sack. Ceased to love Effie ! Have I not already told you that I adore the very earth she steps upon. Ben. Then Virginia must be — - Sack. Virginia ! Sweet syllables ! They run through my brain continually. Ben. {decidedly). Then certainly Effie must be Sack. Effie ! That darling name ! I can't get it out of my head — - Ben. Why, hang it, man ! you can't love both girls at once. Sack. I don't. I never think of them both at the same time. And — a-h— Benedict — that isn't all. Ben. That isn't all ! Another woman ] Sack. A widow. Ben. a widow .'—the devil ! Sack. Exactly ! An adinu-able creature ; dashing, bril liant, voluptuous. We are engaged to be married. Ben. Engaged to be married % Sack. Yes ; but 1 give you my word, Jack, I never in- tended it ; it was an accident. Ben. An accident ] Sack Purely an accident ; I never could imagine how it happened ! One night I had been sitting alone with the widow in the conservatory ; my arm was about her waist, you know, and all that sort of thing. What the deuce I had been saying to Jier I never could recollect. But the widow suddenly informed me that she accepted my proposal, and was mine for ever. Ben. She was yours for everl Sack. She was mine for ever ; imagine my astonishment, if you please. She was my widow for ever. I made the best of my situation, of course, and as a matter of courtesy, I sent her an engagement present next day I proposed 16 SARATOGA. [aCT 1. to EfRe, Jack, because I couldn't help it. I felt an irresisti- ble impulse, from the moment I saw her, to make that par- ticular woman my wife. As to Virginia, we melted together as it were — we fused. She is a tender, delicate, delicious little creature. But the widow v/as an accident— a magnifi- cent woman— all that a man could wish — and more too ; — but an accident. Jack, purely an accident. Ben. And what do you propose to do about it, Bob 1 Sack. Do] Why, nothing for the present. I intend to fly from my lovely persecutors, and lead the life of an an- chorite and a hermit — at Saratoga. Ben. Saratoga ! Excellent ! an admirable place for an anchorite. I intend to go there myself. Sack. You do] All right, we'll go together. I'll drown my sorrows in Congress-water and dissipation ; with three months to think about it, perhaps I can get out of my di- lemma. But, by-the-way, it is time for my appointment. {Looks R. and L.) Ben. Another woman in that, I suppose. Sack. No; only " a butterfly," — ha — ha — ha! {takes piece of newspaper out of his pocket). Bead that, Benedict. {Gives it to him.) Ben. {^reading). "X.Y.Z, or any other man. Which of you wishes to correspond with an angel warranted genuine ; just imported. Only real article in the market. No wi- dowers need apply. N. B. — Highest pi'ice paid for cast-oft' bachelors — young ones in proportion. Address, Box 167. — Butterfly." Sack. I cut that out of the Herald, on Tuesday mornii:^, answered it, and received in return the most delicate little note imaginable, on tinted, paper, and in a disguised hand. The note enclosed this carte de visite. What do you think of it. Jack ] {Gives Idm picture.) Ben. Why, it's the full-faced view of the back of a lady's head. Sack. A magnificent head of hair, isn't it. Jack? There's a head of back hair ! How I long to see what's on the other side of that head of hair. I answered the note, ask- ing the lady to meet me at this spot, at exactly nine o'clock this evening. I was to have a white rosebud, tied with a blue ribbon ; she's to have a red, white and blue rosette on her shoulder — {Music) — in the place of a brooch— ha, ha, ha ! Of course 1 haven't the remotest idea whether she will keep the engagement, but if {Going up) R., arm-in-arm.) Ben. If she does keep it, you'll have four women, instead of three, on your hands. Sack My dear Jack, there are at least 400,000 women ACT 1.] SARATOGA. 17 in New York, Brooklyn, Jersey City. I think four a very reasonable innnber indeed. Ben. But it isn't regular, my dear Bob ; it isn't regular. [They stroll out k. 3. E. Enter Effie, reading a piece of paper, L. 1. E. Effie. " X. Y. Z., or any other man. Which of you wishes to correspond with an angel"— (;;a/i;es note from her bosom) " Caterpillar." I wonder what sort of a looking ge- nius Caterpillar is] (Reading.) "My darling ButterHy !" I didn't intend to answer any of them when I wrote the ad- vertisement, but "Caterpillar" was so comical. " My dar- ling Butterflj', I have fallen in love with your photograph. There is a certain melancholy air about it. It is the most expressive chignon I have ever seen." That's splendid ! If I don't like '" Caterpillar," I'll scamper back to pa, in the West Room, like a deer. I'll stand demurely at his side, and I'll defy any young man to so much as wink at me, when my fatlier gets his eye on him. {Readin^j.) "I enclose my own picture. The face, as you will see, appeals strongly to the iuiagination." {Looking at picture.) fhat's a splendid portrait — of a gentleman's hat ! I am so anxious to hnd out what kind of a moustache there is behind that hat. [Music F. F. Feople exit r. and l Enter Sackett, r. 3. e. He looks at ladies. Effie gota and looks at gentlemen. Each dodging tohen discovered, and staring at jiictures. Sack. It's time for the red, white, and blue rosette to be here. Enter Livingston and Ogden, crossing e. and l. Sackett looks closely at them. SAck. Beg pardon, ladies. {Aside.) Nice girls, but no rosettes. [Exit e. s. l. Effie. If the white rosebud doesn't come at all ! I'll be 80 provoked. [Effik and Sack, meet c, they start. Sack. (l. c). Effie ! Effie (r. c). Kobert! Sack. She here ! the deuce ! If the red, white, and blue rosette should appear at this moment ! Ef>'ie. He here ! and at such a time ! How provoking 1 If the white rosebud should come along now ! Sack, {embarrassed). Ah, EtHe ! Effie. Robert ! You almost took my breath away. [2'hey face each other, and recognize the signals they ivear. Sack. The red, white, and blue rosette !— Effie. The white rose-bud ! Robert, then, is " Cater- pillar !" 18 SARATOGA. [aCT 1. Sack. Effie is " Butterfly !" {Looks at picture.) Ah ! Fool that I was ! That back-hair ! Effie {taking picture from her bosom). Ah ! That hat ! the very same. So, sir, I have found you out. This is the way you remember your promises to me ! Sack. My memory seems to be quite as good as yours, Miss Remington. Effie. Oh, Robert ! Sack. Ah ! Effie ! Effie. Let's — let's both of ns forgive each other 1 Sack. My darling! [Me takes his arm coquettishly . Effie. I — I — v,-as only on a lark, you know, Robert. Sack. And I was only trying to kill a little time by an innocent frolic. Besides {holdiny out incture) was it possi- ble for me to look at that picture, and not recognize my EfHel Effie. Ah ! Sack. That back-hair, which has so often rested on my shoulder ; — every braid, every curl — every curl— each indi- vidual hair. I knew it was my Effie's back-hair. Enter Old Remington, r. 3. e. He pciuses; puts on his sj^ectaclcs ; looks at them. Effie. And that hat, Robert,— (//o/t/s up carrf)— beneath whose shadow you and I have i:)assed so many delightful moments. I was certain it was my Robert's hat , the crown, the brim, the band -everything told me it was my Robert's hat. Sack, and Effie. A— h ! \lle takes her tivo hands in his, warmly. Old Rem. {loudly). Ahem ! [Effie goes u}) c. Sack, [crossing to Rem. confused). May 1 trouble you for a light, sir 1 Old Rem. I'm not smoking, sir. Sack. Oh ! Excuse me, sir. Old Rem. You're not smoking, either, sir. This is no place to smoke in. Sack. Eh] Oh— oh ! so it isn't. I — I— I— beg pardon. Excuse me— but I— 1 — in fact— I am a little absent-minded now and then. Old Rem. I see you are. Where there seems to be so much fire — egad, there ought to be sotne smoke. {Crosses, and takes Effie's arm.) Come, daughter, {doing l. 1. r. ; tu7-ns to Sack., tvho is following.) There is not room for three in the way which ive are going, sir. Exeunt l. 1. e. Effie looking back, and kissing her hand to Robert. Sack, looks ojf, r. 3. E. Sack. If there weren't any fathers in the world, there ACT h] 8AEATUGA. 19 wouldn't be any daughters, I suppose ; but, in my opinion, of all necessary evils, nature has inflicted mankind with a superfluity of fathers. [Stands, looking off L. A'nter Virginia and Wethertree, r. 1. e., arm-in-arm. ViRG. {sees Sackett). Ah ! Robert, my dear Robert ! [^Crosses to him. Sack, (fuming round). Ah ! my darling Virginia ! I was thinking of you at this moment. ViRG. Hush ! I forgot. Beg pardon, Mr. Wethertree — {introducing) — a friend of mine. [They bow. Weth. (e). Oh ! m— , m — , a friend of hers! ViRG. (aside). We'll see each other to-morrc^, Robert 1 Sack. (l). Certainly, my dear. I'll not think of another being until I meet you a^ain. ViRG. This way, Mr. \A'etliertree. [7'akes his arm, and exeunt L. 3. E. Sack, (looking after her). Virginia is so impulsive, 03 girlish, so gentle — every time I meet Virginia, I'm more and more in love with her. [."itill looking after her. Mnter Mrs. Alston and, Sir Mortimer, l. 1. c, arm in-arm. Mrs. a. We'll now try the West Room, Sir Mortimer. (Crossing r., tu7-ns and sees Sackett.) Oh, Robert ! Mr. Sackett ! [Sir Mort. goes %ip R. and down L. Sack, (doivn l.). My dear Mrs. Alston ! my dear Olivia ; my heart was full of your image at this very moment. Mrs. a. (aside to him). You did not meet me, yesterday, as usual, Robert. Sack. A business engagement, my dear. Mrs. a. I will forgive you this time ; but you'll certainly call to-morrovv^ afternoon 1 Sack. Most adorable of women, certainly I'll dream of nothing else till then. Mrs. a. (sees Sir Mort.). I beg pardon, Sir Mortimer. (Crosses L.) You'll excuse the interixiption. We were going to the West Room, I believe. [JiJxeicnt R. 1. E. Sack, looking after her. Sack. The widow's a charming woman— if she was an accident. I think I'm in love with her, after all \ in fact, the more I see of lier Enter Benedict, r. Arch. Ben. I say. Bob, have you got through? Sack, (taking him L. 3. E.). Ah ! Benedict, you're just in time — do you see her, Benedict] Do you see Virginia % Ben. Yes ; that is, I see her back-hair, Bob. Sack. "Her back-haii--bob"— nonsense. This way, Bene- 20 SARATOGA. [aCT 1. diet. -{takes kim R. I.E.) — the widow — [music P.l— do you see her, Benedict — do you see herl Bek. Yes ; I see her back-hair, Bob ! Sack, {pidling him L. 1. e.). And there, Benedict — {enter guests as before) — My darling Effie ; do you see her, Jack } — Do you see her? Ben. Egad ! I'm not likely to see anything but back-hair, Bob! Enter Guests. The Artist comes in r. 1. e. Livingston and OuDEN, R. and s. Sack, {turns each way). Ah, Effie ! — Virginia ! — Olivia ! Benedict— Benedict — you have never loved as I love ! Ben. Heaven be praised, I never have ! [Sackett stumbles over a dress, and he falls through the jncture of " Cyrus the Great." General commotion ; t/te Artist strikes an attitude n. 8 \ckett scrambles to his feet, with his head through the canvas, and tlie frame resting on his shoulders. END OF ACT FIRST. ACT II. Scene. — TJie Congress Springs at Saratoga; int'^rior of f lie building, with roof and black and white marble pavement ; the rising ground, walks, trees, Sfc, (f the park in the bach ground. The sunken spring with its railing up c. Discovered, the spring ; boy passing up water tvilh long pole and rack ; ladies and gentlemen passiig R. and L., in the park back, and drinking at the spriig. Muffins leaning nqainst a pilla'- and' knitting, i/ver the rail of the spring ; two children placing together back Daring M.V¥¥i^s' first long speech, the different people, lohoni she describes, pass in, drink, and pass out, tcith appropriate motions in dumbshow, wry faces, 4'c. Muffins. Another glass of water for the ou1d lady ; I've seen that same woman dlirink half a dozen glasses already this blessed day, and she'll dhrink a dozen more before night — she's been told it's the fashionable thing. There's the ould coon wid de rheumatism again — along wid his wife — slie's a sharp one, she is— she makes him kape on dlirinking in ejipite of himself She is anxious for a second husband, and she thinks the rheumatism alone can't be depinded upon. Och! and there comes the man that always dhrinks whiskey at night and Congress wather in the day-time. Divil a mo- ment's pace does his poor stomach get day or night. One of ACT 2.] SAEATOGA. 21 these days his stomacli will go on a shtrike for eight hours' work. And there comes the gintleman tbat's been in the last stages of consumption for tlie last thirty-five years — the oiild darkey barber tould me all about it, and there's the ould maid thnt went into a decline about die same time. Sure it's a pity they didn't git married. It might have cured them both, they've stood the wather all this time ; perhaps they could 'a taken aitchitlier widout making a wry face at the dose. Ah, bless her darling little heart ! Here comes the young lady that's thrying her best to learn how to drink Congress wather, and look pritty at the same time — and tlie young ginlleman that's wid her, he's learning to endure dis- agreeable things widout swearing in the presence of ladies. Sure they both have to retire together behind the curtains in the bow window at the hotel before they can get the taste of the water out of their mouths. I saw 'em there last night fading aitchither wid swate mates. Ocli ! and here slie is again — the big woman wid a little husband ; she's mighty particular about his health — shure she — well may be too — she'll niver git another if she loses him, and he's handy to have in the house. Siie's awfully afraid hell die — and he's afraid he won't. There's wan thing I cnn't get through my head, all the pnyple kape drinking this Saratogy water as if there was a Chicago conflagration inside of 'em, and yit they kape making faces all the time, as if they'd rather be swal- lowing Kerasene oil ; bedad, I (au't put this and that togi- ther— ony more than I can the two sides of Misthress Gay- lover's corsets. But Conuress wather is the fashion, I sup- pose, and shure payple of fashion swallow worse things than that every day ; faith, they swallow each other's compliments widout making wry faces at all {L'ads children up stage). Enter Kemington, e. e. Kem. Boy, a glass of that damned water. [i?oy hands up water. Enter Vanderpool, l. and E. Van. Boy ! a glass of that damned water. [^Gets water ; they drink on opposite side. Eem. Ah ! Vanderpool ! Van. Eh? oh! Eemington. Eem. Enjoying your daily beverage, I suppose. Van. Eh ? {listening, his hand to his ears). Eem. (louder). Your daily beverage. Vajj. Bev-beverage ? Y-e-s. My doctor prescribed it. I asked him to make it castnr-(iil, but he wouldn't relent. Eem. I've been practising — on petroleum. Va^. Petroleum ! yes ; lihey say they do use petroleum 22 SARATOGA. [aCT 2. now — instead of o'd shoes. I'm getting alonjr, however. I've been tiiking a few easy lessous in paragoric (sl/Js). De- licious, isn't it? (toy face). Rem. (sipping, with a wry face), Deliglitful. Van. Nectar. !Rem. {coming down B., wiping hisforeJiead). They call this travelling for pleasure — thermometer at ninety-eight in— — A-^AN. Eh ! what say ? Rem. I say the thermometer is ninetv-ei'.'ht in Van. Yes — in a refrigerator. Mrs. Vanderpool, and my daughter, Virginia, call tliis triivelling for plea.siire. Bem. So does my daughter, EfBe, heigh-hi — unfortunately, /have no wife to share the pleasure with me. Van. Eh ! what did you say was unfortunate ? Rem. I say I have no wife to Van. Oh ! m -m — y-e-s— that's a matter of opiuion. Rem. I regard it as very unfortunate, indeed. Van. M-m— y-e-s — some folks do. Rem. {loudly in his ear). I feel the want of a mother's care for my daughter Effie. Van. Motlier's care, daughter? Don't trouble yourself about that, old fellow — your girl will be married soon enough without a mother's care ; my daughter, Virginia, has a mother's care — too much — by half. Rem. But a mother can watch over Van. Watch? yes — Mrs. Vanderpool is always on the watch, Mrs. Vanderpool watches a young gentleman as a cat watches a mouse. Rfm. As to my daughter Effie — I can't do anything with the girl She is even now off to the races— alone — with two gentlemen. Van. Rnce- yes ! it's a race between the women in Sara- toga who'll get to the devil first — up to one o'clock in the morning at a hop — breakfast at eleven. Rem. Then come the hoi\se races at the park. Van. Dressing. Rem. (in his ear). Dinner. Van. More dressing. Rem. Another hop in the evening {in his ear). Van. And after that — the Lord knows what — ^T don't. That is what Mrs. Vanderpool calls " travelling for pleasure." Rem. (ooiuj b. u-itk Van.). Damn travelling for pleasure. Van. Eh ? Rem. I say — I — I don't — like travelling for pleasure. Van. Neither do I — damn travelling for pleasure ! [Mreunt together B. E., during above conversation people have paaied and repassed in park, and alao ACT 2.] SARATOGA. 23 in the colonnade, getting water, MtTFFilirs leaning f>ver the rnillng ; the children phiijinij at back. Little Girl {hmhing up fiom her play). Oh! Muffins — there's ruanima, and papa — both toiiig to be droppei', you know {lnobs at Effie, rr//o sUnais lioJcitig at Iiim dniiuieltf). Y— e — s. Au remir. Miss Effie [aside); I am dropped. These American girls are the most Miiaccountable crw her to the ends of the earth. By-the-way. Jack, how do you get along anions the Saratoga belles P No fluttering about the heart, now and then, you old icicle — eh ? Ben. (l.). Ahem! Well, I say. Bob, you'll promise not to laugh at me P 2—2 28 SARATOGA. [act 2. Sack. Oh ! eh ! Not — ha ! ha ! ha !— then there is— ha f ha! Oil, certainly ! I'll promise not to laugh — ha! ha! hal (check" lihnself). Ben. (l.). Well, then — I — I— I am in love — with a widow. Bob. Sack. A widow P — ha! ha! ha! \\a,\ — {chp(]c'< liimself). Ben. Bob, I — I — I — am in love with the same woman I was in love with before ghe was niiinied. Sack. The — ha ! ha ! ha! ha! ha! — I know I promised not to laugh, Jack ; but— ha! ha! lia! — the name woman that you were — ha ! ha ! ha! Does being a widow improve her any. Jack? Ha ! ha! lia ! — I say, Jack, you waited for the second table, didn't 3'ou.P — ha ! ha ! lia! You took her affections warmed over. By-thc-«-ay, Jack, what is the w idow's name ? — ha! ha! ha! Ben. Her name — Mrs, O ivia Alston ! (Sack, slops laugh- iv(f, di av)s a long face, aiid sluggem). Eh ! what's the matter. Bob ? Sack. Nothing ; only a little stilch in the side. {Aside) It's v,y widow ! Ben. dooking E.). There she is now, Ben, coming this way, with a gentleman. She'll be here in two minutes. I'll intro- duce you. Sack. No, thank you, Jack. I have a very particular engagement elsewhere at this particular moment. I w ish you joy, old boy: and, by-the-way. Jack, kiss the widow now and then on my account — ha ! ha ! ha! — and you'll not forget the Driftwood House, Benedict? Bkn. Certainly not. I am to stare at every woman in Saratoga. Sack. A flood of go'den tresses — Ben. (r.). Eeport three times a day — Sack. (l.). The fastest horses you can get. Ben. Ha! ha! ha! [Erit ■&. Sack. Ha! ha! ha! — ///V widow — w/;y widow ! [Exit j,. Evter ]Mk. and AjBS. Vandeupdol, r. u. e. Mrs. Van. (l.). Mr. Vanderpool, you're a brute! Van. ( flitting hand to his ear). What say ? Mrs. Van. (in his ear). You are a brute ! Van. Y-e-s — very likely, my dear ; y cu told me that thirty years ago, my love. Mrs. Van. If I had told it to you every day in the year, for thirty years, I should only have been doing my duty. Van. (r.). Well, my dear, I don't think there are many days in the last thirty years that need rest very htavily on your conscience. Jf I had my way about it, Mrs. Vander* poor, Virginia should not remain another day in Saratoga. ACT 2.] SARATOGA. 29 Look at the girl to-day, madam ; she has come home from the races with her head full of chestnut fillies, and three- year-old geldings, and little hay mares, and quarter poles, and pedigrees. If I had my way about it, madam, Virginia shouldn't remain at Saratoga another hour. Mks. Van. (l.). But you haven't your way about it. Mr. Vanderpool ! Virginia shall remain in Saratoga until the 15tli of September. You insist on burying the girl in some quiet resort by the seaside for tlie summer; — now, I insist on giving her all the advantages of fashionable society. Virginia is of a marriageable age, Mr. Vauderpool, and 1 am a mother. Van. You certainly are, my dear. Mrs. Van. You are a father ! Van. I certainly am — that is, I presume I am, Mrs. Van- ierpool. Mks. Van. We each of us owe a duty to Virginia. My duty is that of a careful mother. Young gentlemen of the verj' best families come to Saratoga. Would you have me neglect my duty, Mr. Vauderpool ? Van. (k.)- But the girl has alreaily been engaged to three gentlemen to my positive knowledge. It isn't a mother's duty to provide more than one husband for her female off- spring, is it ? Mks. Van. Mr. Vauderpool, I was engaged to foui- gentle- men before I married you. Van. Y-e-8 — I remember. I never forgave that last fellow for dropping off so suddeidy just before I — Mrs. Van. Vauderpool! Van. Eh.=^ A'lifer Hon. Wm. Carter and Lucy, l. 1. e. Carter. This way, my dear — boy, a glass of water. Shall I liold your shawl, my dear ? Lucy. Thank you, my love (ffives him shawl, and takes u-ofer). Ah— oh ! isn't it horrid, though ? Van. (r. c). Why, surely— certain ly, it is my old fiiend — William Carter ! Carter (l. c). Eh! Why, my dear Vandcrpool ! — de- lighted to meet you at Saratoga— it must be five years, ar- least, since we have seen each other — Mis. Vauderpool, too. - This is an unexpected pleasure. Mis. Carter — my wife- Mrs. Vauderpool — (Mes. Van. and TjV cy /x/w) — Mrs. Carter, this is one of my veiy best old friends— Mr. Vauderpool {passing her over to Van.). Wan. (k. c). Why, upon my word, that's very odd. I knew you had a son, old fellow, but I certainly never saw your daughter before. 50 8AEAT0GA. [ACT 2. Carteb (t, c. E., aside). That's pleasant, by Jove ! that's the tenth time my wife has been taken for my dauj^hur siuce we've been on our wedding tour. Van. I'm delighted to see you, my little darling — he I he ! he ! ( pats her under the chin). I've known your fatlier ever since he « as a boy, my dear — we were schoolmates together — he! he! he! — I shall be your w//c/e, you know — he! he! he ! Tou must call me " Uncle," for the sake of Auld Lang Syne {kisses her). Mes. Van. (r.). Vandeipool ! Van. Eh? {kisses Lvcy ai/ai??). Carter {usidr). Vandeipool chucks my wife under the chin and kisses her for the sake of Auld Lang Syne. Damn Auld Lang Syne ! Van. I knew your mother very well, my dear. Carter. Ahem ! Van. Your mother was a lovely woman, my dear: one of the most angelic women I ever met. Carter (l., aside). Oh, Lord! my first wife! Van. But she must have died before you can remember. Let me see — seventeen years ago — of course you can't re- member it. Carter {aside). Confound his memory, say I ! Mrs. Van. Mr. Vanderpool, tliis lady is the wife of Mr. Carter {in his ear, b.). Van. Eh! what? Mrs. Van. {in his ear). This lady is not his daughter wife! Van. Not his daughter wife ! Oh, she's your son's wife! Well, I thought it was curious; but it's all in the family, isn't it, my little dear? — be! he! he! {chucks her chiv, and kisses her). Carter. Damn it, Vanderpool, the lady is mi/ wife ! {in hi§ ear). Van. Eh ! Carter {in his ear). Mrs. Carter — is my wife ! Van. (r. c). Your — she is your wife— ha — ha — ha — {laughs very heartily some seconds). I say, my dear — suppose — ha — ha — ha — you — ha — ha — were — lia^ha — were — ha — ha — such a tender young thing as that! {pointing uitii his thumb to Lucy, and still laughing). Mrs. V. {with dignity). Mr. Vanderpool — I was once such a tender young thing as that. Van. Yes — but then — I was a tender young thing too — I say, Carter, you old rogue, why didn'r vou keep inside your own geneiation — ha — ha — ha — {punchmq his nhs). By-the- way, old bov. "vou must lorgive me for kissing your wife— ACT 2.] SAEATOGA. 31 you may take your revenge if you like — by kissinj; Mrs. Vanderpool — lia — ha ! [.They go up E. c. Eiiier Effie and Virginia, e. Effik andYiRG. Lucy Martimiale! Lucy. EfRe Eeniiugton and Virginia Vanderpool ! (kisses ihem). Not Lucy Martiudale now, girls. I'm manned now, you know. Etfie. Oh ! yes, we heard you were goinji to get married. ViKG. I say, Carter, is tliat your husband ? Lucy. Yes ! i-n't he a nice old gentleman ? Effie. How do vou like the old man. Carter? Van. By-the-way, Carter, old boy — you and — and — ha — ha — and jour- wife — have aiiivetl just in the nick of time. We've arranged for a picnic this afternoon out at the lake : — Mrs. Vanderpool — Kemington — the girls, Benedict, Mrs. Al.'-ton, and thi' rest of us— half-past three — you'll join us, of course. Caeter. Oil — certainly ; — Mrs. Carter and I will join the parij-^ with pleasure — eii, my love? Lucy, {noddhiy). Certainly, my darling. Van. He — lie — "Mrs. Carter" — wife! — he — he — "my love " — " diirliiig " —he— he — oh ! — Carter — ha ha— ha — (punching hiiii in the rihs). Enter FiiED. Caeter, l. He is dres-ed in the height of fashion, glasses, enne, Sfc. Feed. Hallo! governor — mother dear, I thought you had gone to your room at the hotel. Van. (e. c. to Cmtrr). Certainly. I recognize him at once, ' Mrs. V. Tiii:^ iss your son, Frederic I'' Van. Such a striking resemb'ance to his mother, the first Mr-. Carter — }our angelic predecessor, my dear. Lucy (i.itriidiiciiig Fi-ed.). My s>u, Frederic Augustus Carter, Miss Vanderpool [thej/ huiu). My son. Miss Reming- ton [thei/ how). Effie (a4ile to Vjeg.). I say, Vanderpool, isn't Carter putting un airs ? ViKG. Jiilr "dncing that great fellow as her son ! Effie. She's only been married three weeks. I'll be his grandmother. Feed, {ci-' ssing to l. c). Delighted to meet you, ladies; in fact I'm delighted to get to Saratoga, where they have billiards and cards, and ladies, and fairs, and races, aud every- thing else to make a gentleman comfortable. Father, mother, and I have been on our wedding tour, Caetee (l.). Have weP Van. (e. c). Oh, yes, I say. Carter, you haven't told Ui about your wetldiiig tour yet, of course. 32 SARATOGA. [act 2. Mbs. Van. (b.)- Yes, you must tell us all about your wed- ding; tour. Feed. (l. c). Certainly. We had a deliirlitrul wedding tour ; we've been to the Green Mountains, White Mountains, and Lake George — balls, moonlight walks, music. Carter {turning him aii-ay by the ear). I'd like to know who's wedding tour this is. Fred, {recorerinp his position). And such an adventure as mother had when we were at the Mansfield Mountain House in Vermont. LfCY (l. c). Oh. yes ! it wns so funny. Frederic and I were riding ;ilone, near the lake, in the moonliglit, one evening. .Mr. Carter wasn't very well that evening. Carter. Yes, a slight cold, which — ah ! had settled iu my limbs. Van. Eh ! Oh yes; that isn't what I call it. Carter. Never mind what yoM call it, sir. Mrs. Carter was riding alone with Frederic. Lucy. Yes ; and the horse suddenly took fright as we reached a dangiTous part of the road. Frederic was thrown out at the first bound. Fred. Yes — ha- -ha— ha — I landed plump in a puddle of water. {All laugh.) Lucy. And I was left alone in the carriage. Of course 1 was terribly frightened — I don't know what might have be- come of me, but just its I was approaching a dangei'ous turn in the road — a man ViRG. (r. c). a man ? Effie (c). Aman.*^ It begins to get interesting. Lucy. A man sprang into the centre of the road. The horse stopped as suddenly as it had started — and I Carter. Mrs. Carter fell over the dashboard. Lucy. Into the arais of the — arms of — Effie. Of the man. Carter. Exactly. Mrs. Carter fell over the dashboard into the arms — of tlie man. Van. Mr. Carter should be eternally grateful to — the man. Carter. So I am. I shall never forgive — I mean I shall never fori'ct that— man. Lucy. Frederic came up in a moment, we thanked the stranger and — and that was the last we saw of him. He waa a young man. ViRG. Oh ! he was a young man. Carter (l.). Some young snipe or another. Lucy. Yes ; he was some young snipe or another. He was of about medium heigiit, and he — he had a moustache — I am certain he had a moustache. ACT 2.] SARATOGA. 33 "I'iRG. That kind of " snipe '' always does have a moustache. Effie. And a woman can neai'ly always tell it just as well in tlie dark as she can in the daytime. LucT. Oil ! but it was moonlight, you know. Carter. Certainly. It was mnoiilight. Van. Yes, moonshine. \_The party .separate av.d all move up Enter Mrs. Alston and Benedict, b. e. Mrs. a. How very romantic, Mr. Benedict. Ben. My friend is perfectly enthusiastic about the lady. A flood of go'den tresses, you kno'A'. Mrs. a. Ha — ha — hn — and sucli au exqnisile thi-oat {sek, Weth. and SiK MouT., E., offering wine to Effik, who is seated on stump r. up stage. Mrs. Van. staled on an ck, L. 3. E. Mrs. Carter, e. ofc. ; Carter nt hack walking about. Virginia and Littlefield seatid on bank, h. 1. E. Ogden and Livingston seated, r. 1. e., on bank. Music at rise. — A ballnd sung on one of the ladies, with chorus by all. VaW. {pouring wine). Ha, lia, lia. This is the merriest ■ lay I've had in many a year. Mrs. Vanderpool, allow me — '•an I trouble you for another glass, Lucy? Thank you, my 'lear. Sliall I fill it for you ? LucT (r. c). No. tlinnk you, Mr. Vanderpool. Van. "Uncle" Vanderpool, my denr. Lucy. Uncle Vanderpoo'. I'll not take any more wine, thank you, " uncle." I prefer water. Van. That's right, my dear, water was made before wine, ;ind is better for you young folk. But we old coons need a little stimulant now and then, don't we, Carter? Don't we, Mrs. Vanderpool ? Mrs. Van. Mr. Vanderpool, I am not an " old coon.' Van. I'll not insist upon the "coon," my dear. Carter. Mrs. Carter, it is getting late, we had better re- I urn to the carriages. Enter Ben and Mrs. Alston r. 1. E., come forward c. Ben {looking at watch). Exactly half-past five, we agreed to 1)6 home at half-past six. We must Mrs. Alston. We haven't to meet a railroad train — tliere is pleniy of time, we will continue our stroll, Mr. Benedict {ijning L.) Ben But, my dear, we agreed to return before half-past six — and — and— Mrs. Alston. And we shall do nothing of the kind. I am f;oing down the path in this direction — there is a very pretty aiie. Don t mind us, Mrs. Vanderpool. Mr. Benedict and I have a carnage of our own, you know. 36 SAEATOGA. [aCT 3. Ben. But my dear Olivia — we agreed to — we promised Mbs. Alston, /am going in tliis direction. [JExit "L. Ben. I— ahem {tvavers) — somehow or other I never can keep an appointment now. I can't be regular in anything. [Exit after her. LiTCY {suddenly sta?-ting). Oh ! Van. Eh! (comes to het^). Carter. What is it, my darling 1 Lucy. I thought I heard a gun. Van. a gun ] Lucy. I was always afraid of guns (a distant gun heard). There — yes— I was certain of it. There is somebody hunt- ing in these woods. Carter. iS'onsense, my love, they are not hunting for such little tame ducks as you. Lucy (puuttng). I am not a little tame duck, I nearly fainted once when I heard a gun, anywiy. Van. There, there my little pet— Uncle Vanderpool won't let anybody hurt it, to be sure. (Pats her under the chin and kisses her. Mrs. Van. checks him. Carter disgusted). Effie (suddenly). I want some wine (holds glass). (Sir Mort. and Weth. both run, one with sherry the other with claret, ivhich they getjrovi Gyp). Weth. Claret, l^liss EfRe ' ) . ,; Sir Mort. Sherry, Miss Kemington % ) wr/emer. Effie. Thank you, gentlemen, but I never take wine -fixed ; I prefer it " straight '' (l)oth gentlemen come down oivning at each other). Well, aren't you going to give m'l any wine at all ] (They hasten back, she holds out tivo glasses, Sir Mort. pours in L. and Weth. r.) That's what I call " neutrality." [LvcY directs Gyp to gather up the things; he and Van. commence jKirking them in targe basket. ViRG. (l.). You have read so many books, Mr. Little- field. Littlefield. I have read more from your ej'es. Miss Vir- ginia, than from all the books I ever owned. You have opened a volume to me in which I find a new philosi>phy. Van. Come, Yn-ginia, they are gathering up the things to return. ViRG. (r.) (rising). Mr. Littlefield and I will return before the carriages are ready ; papa, we will only stroll down into the dell and back. Littlefield. Besides, Miss Virginia and I came in a car- riage of our own, you know. [Exeunt arm in arm R. 1. E. Van. (aside). Virginia and Mr. Littlefield have been sit- ting under that tree by themselves all the afternoon. That ACT 3.] SAEATOGA 37 looks like business. I only hope the little gipsy isn't flirting with him. Effie. There, Sir Mortimer, you carry that {giving him shaivl). Wethertree, you carry this (gives him goblets and nap- kins). Van. Here Gyp, take that basket. I'll carry this {takes bucket with wine). Mrs. Vauderpool, we will let the young folks bring each other. [Exit Gyp, Mk. and Mrs. Van., Mr. Carter and Lucy, l. 3. and^ 2. e. Effie {seeing table-cloth). Oh! Mr. Wethertree, there's the table-cloth {throws it over him). Sir Mortimer, you carry that {gives him basket), Mr. Wetliertree, there's the water pitcher — Sir Mortimer, there's a fork — that's enough — now come along. [A'xit zotVA Weth. and Sir Mort. ; as she is going out she first takes the a- m of one, then stops suddenly and takes the arm of the othc cdso. Lie-enter Lucy, l. 3 e. Lucy. I think they've got everything — it won't hurt to look, however {looks about on grass, &c.) Let me see, the silver cream pitcher— I wonder if that was put in either of the baskets— I came near forgetting all about it {looks R, and L.) {Gun fired R. 2. 'E.) Lucy {screams). Oh ! Enter Sackett backwards, a short gtin in his hands in full hunting gear looking offR. Sackett. Egad, she's fluttering— a second shot will bring her down. {J' ires gun agcnn.) Lucy {screams). Oh ! {staggering ; Sackett turns in time to catch her with Lucy in his arms). Sackett. Another duck, by Jove ! No — it's quite a different bird. It's a regular wood nymph ! {He sits up stump c, Lucy in his arms). Oh, can I believe my eyes, certainly I can. The fairy of my dreams. The unknown angel who fell into my arms from heaven itself -or rather from a one-horse buggy, near the Mansheld Mountain House, in Vermont. Those lips, how well I i emember them. Deli- cious burden (kisses her). 1 once took a course of medical lectures, and I remember among other instructions, that in case a lady fainted, it was always best to move her as little as possible. I shall allow her to remain in the place in which she originally fell. Mrs. Van. {without l. ). Lucy, my dear ! Sackett {looking left). There's another wood-nymph. Re-enter Mrs. Van. l. 3. e. Mbs. Van. Why, something must have happened. 38 SARATOGA. [aCT 3. Sackett. It's an elderly wood-nymph — Eh ? By Jove, it's Viiginia's mother. Mrs. Van. (going io Lucy). Why, the poor child has fainted. Our carriage is at the foot of the hill — Oh, sir— if yon will run and get some water immediately. Sackett. Impossible, madame — 1 am a doctor of medi- cine, and I cannot allow the lady to be removed from the plsce in which she originally fell. Mrs Van. I will go, then— you will be very careful nf her. doctor. Sackett. I shall give her the most devoted attention, nxndani. [h'xii Mrs. Van. l. 3. e. Carter [withotd L.). Lucy, my dear Lucy {entering L. •/. E.). Why, darling {rushing to her). My dear— dear girl— I Sackett {pushing him away). Will yru oblige me, sir. by keeping at a more respectful distance— d m't you see the lady needs air? {Aside) This is the wood-nymph's papa ! Carter. Well, sir—if it's all the same to you, sir, I will take your place. Sackett. But it isn't all the same to me, sir. I am a doctor of medicine, and the lady mu?t not be removed fioai the place in which she originally fell. Carter. But— confound it, sir, I am the lady's Sackett. I understand, sir, you are the lady's father (Carter turns away angrily '. Your anxiety is natural. You will find a spring of cold water about a mile and a quar- ter down the path in that direction — and — (pointing R. 2. E.) Carter. A mile and a quarter {going R. stops). I'll be back in less than live minutes ! [Exit hastily R 2. E. Lucy recovers. Lucy (l.). Why— why, where am 1 1 Sackett. You are in the woods, my dear. But you are still weak {she tries to get up— he presses her back). I don't think it advi.sable to remove you from the place in which you originally fell. Lucy. But — but {breaking from him, rising and going L. C.) Oh — I remember. There was a gun — then another gun Sackett {rising). I beg your pardon — there was only one gun ; the gun had two barrels. I was hunting for ducks. As 1 reached this spot I discovered a very beautiful one — I would say, a very beautiful young lady. I had barely time to reach her — before she fell into my arms and Lucy. And you Sackett. I allowed her to remain in the place where she origiually fell. AOT 3.] SARATOGA, S9 Lucy {recognizing him). Ah ! Sackett. She recognizes me ! You remember me, then ] Lucy. Oh yes, sir — I — T Sackett ( eager/ 1/, and throiving his arm around her waist). We met but a moment, it is true, but a moment of such ex- quisite joy to me. I — I Lucy [struggling). Oh, sir— you musn't. It isn't right. I— I — am Sackett. Since our first romantic meeting in the moon- light your image has been constantly before my eyes. Lucy. Oh, sir— you musn't — I Sackett. If I hadn't fallen in love with you, I should be a marble statue — If I did not express my love, I should be an Egyptian mummy— and if Lucy (struggling). Oh, sir, it isn't right, I say— It is very wrong — I— I am Sackett. I know it, my dear, you are an angel [tries to kiss her. Unter CxnTEU. He sto^^s suddenly B.., and coughs), and by this hand I swear Carter. Ahem ! Sackett (aside). Egad ! it's the old gentleman. Lucy (aside). ISly husband ! Sackett (going to Caetkr). I say, my friend, didn't you make remarkably quick time to that spring of cold water and back 1 Carter (stern hj). It's very evident, sir. that I didn't re- turn too soon. 1 concluded I was a fool before I had gone ten rods. This is my Sack. Your daughter — I am very happy to J^ucY. ]\ly husband. Carter (snappishly). Her husband, sir (Sackett recoils confusedly ). Sackett. Her husband, the devil ! (aside). 1 don't wonder he wanted to take my place. He-enter Me. and Mrs. Van., has jiail of water, L. 3. E. Mrs. Van. Oh ! my dear, you are better again. Sackett (aside). Hilio ! Virginia's father [.sitting c.) Van'. How was it? Lucy, my dear, you must tell us all about it ; how did it happen ] Lucy. Why — you see -I— I don't know much about it inyself~b— but I heard a gun, and then I heard another gun,— Sackett (rising). I beg your pardon — there was only one gun— it had two barrels. Lucy. And then I— 1 don't remember anything else, until T awoke and found myself in — in Sackett. In the place in which she originally fell 40 SARATOGA. [aCT 3. Mrs. Van. (in Van.'s ear). She found herself in that gen- tlem.an's arms. Van. Ah! Mrs. Van. And the gentleman beiftig a doctor of medi- cine — Sackett. Yes— being a doctor of medicine— I was able to do wlmt was best for her under the circumstances. Van. (to Sackett). J\ly dear sir, we owe you a deep debt of gratitude. Mr. Carter, I am sure, will never be able to express his obligation. Carter. Oh ! no. I can't express my gratitude. Van. And by-the-way, I hadn't thought of it before— my name is Vanderpool. Sackett. Eh! Oh! Ahem ! Yes— my name is— ah — (aside) what the devil is my name ] Virginia doesn't know I'm within two hundred miles of Saratoga — It won't do to tell the old gentleman my name — my name is — is — ah — Van. Your name is Sackett Uvith hesitation between the words). Alphonso — della— Madonna— Martinetti. Carter. Alphonso — della — Ma — what 1 Mrs. Van. (i?i Van.'s ear). His name is Alphonso della Madonna Martinetti. Van. Alphonso della ma who 1 Oh — he's a foreigner. Sack. I was born in sunny Italy. Van. You speak remarkably good English for a foreigner. Have you been long from home '! Sack. Fate has consigned me to a life-long exile from my native land- and from the palaces of my ancestors. Carter. H'm— I suppose he's a prince in disguise. A'nter Benedict, l. 3. e. Lucy (aside). Oh — I do so love princes in disguise ! Ben. Has anything happened 1 1 saAv INIrs. Vanderpool running through the woods (seeing Sackett). What— eh — why, my dear Bob (Sackett cheeks him). Omnes (astonished). " Bob !" (gtneral sensation). Carter. He called the prince " Bob !" Mrs. Van. Mrs. Benedict — your friend — his name is Alphonso della Madonna Martinetti — Bob 1 Carter. Oh is it — i/o6— Alphonso della Madonna Mar- tinetti ] Lucy. Perhaps it is Alphonso — Bob — della Martinetti. Ben. Alphonso della jNladonna Mar Carter. Alphonso della Madonna Martinetti, that is tha gentleman's name. Sackett. Ahemu^ really I must explain. There is cer- tc^.iily some misunderstanding — mv name is- •- ACT 3.] SARATOGA. 41 Mrs. Van. {in Van.'s ear). His name isn't Alphonso della Madonna Martinetti. Van. Eh 1— it isn't — what is it 1 Mrs. Van. His name is " Boh." Van. ''Jiohr Sackett. i — ah— ladies and gentlemen — I — I assure you that my name is Alphonso della Madonna Martinetti, but they call me " Bcb " — for sJiort. Lucy. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! Mrs. Van. {in Van.'s ear). They call him " Bob," for short. Van. Oh, his name is Bob Short? Carter. They call you Bob for short *? That is a very remarkable concentration of syllables, sir. Ben. I — I haven't the remotest idea of what you're all talking about — but {aside to Bob) 1 say, Bob, you may as well make a clean breast of it, whatever it is. Sackett {resif-inedly). Go on— drive ahead ! Ben, Ladies and gentlemen— allow me to introduce to you my warm personal friend and former schoolmate, Robert Sackett, Esq., Councillor and Attorney-at-Law, 121, Cedar Street, New York. Carter. Attorney-at-Law ! Sackett {pulling Ben.'s coat). I'm a Doctor of Medicine, Jack. Carter {savagely). You will excuse me, Mr. Robert Sackett, but 1 do not see why it was absolutely necessary that a young lady who had fainted should continue to recline in the arms of an " Attorney-at-Law," when all her friends, including her husband, were anxious to relieve him of the burden. Sackett. I assure you, my dear sir, I tried to do what was best for the lady under the circumstances. Carter. The circumstances are exactly what I object to, sir. What the devil do you mean, sir, by assuring us at a critical moment that you were a doiior? Sackett. My dear sir, I ivas a Doctor— a Doctor— of Divinity {he hoivs to Lucv, she bou'ing lotv in retufn). Carter. Damn your divinity, sir ! {turns up stage angrily). Lucv. Oh, Mr. Carter! {following him up). Enter Sir Mort., l. 3e., with pillow under each arm, and loaded with blankets, (he. Sir Mortimer. Mrs. Van der pool, 1 have obeyed your instructions — I entered the farm-house, and I captured two pillows, a sheet, and a blanket before the proprietors fully understood the nature of my errand. 42 BARATOGA. [aCT 3. iiVifff?* WetherTBEE, L. 2. E., with jJtfcher in one hand, large basket in the other, carriage cushion iinder each arvi — looks R and L. Weth. Mrs. Vanderpnol, I've obeyed your instructions to the letter— I've brought all the carriage cushions, and a pitcher of water, and the basket {sees Sackett). Who the devil is thaf? I've seen that face before {goes up L.). Sackett. There's another wood nymph. Sir Mor. {staring at Sackett). I've seen that face before {goes wp R.). Sackett. Here's a pair of wood nymphs ! Enter Virginia and Littlefield, e. 2. c. ViRG. {seeing Robert). Kobert ! Sackett. Oh, Lord— Virginia! ViRG. My dear Robert ! {rnns to him quickly, E. C. Everybody. Her " dear Robert !" ViRG. What a delightful surprise ! Sackett. Delightful ! Van. {confused and anxious). Ahem! — ah, I say, old lady, ahem— ah —Virginia — i\lr. Sackett Sackett. My darling Virginia ! ( To Van.) I owe you an apology, Mr. Vonderpool, and ^Mrs. Vanderpool. I have long loved your daughter in secret. LiTTi-EFiELD (r., excitedly). He has long loved her in secret ! Sackett. And her timid blushes confess, sir, that she has returned my love. Littlefield. She has returned his love ! Sackett. And now, sir, I throw myself at your feet. I Effie enters L. U. E. Effie. What's all the fuss about, anyway 1 what's the row 1 {sees Robert) Ah, Robert ! {runs to him) My dear Robert ! Everybody {walking up and dovm stage, excitedly). Her dear Robert ! Effie. Ah, dear Robert, I didn't know you were in Sara- toga. ViRG. Your dear Robert ?— he is my dear Robert. Effie. Your — ViRG. Yes, mine ; he is ray ; he has sworn a dozen times Effie. Your sworn. Ha! I see it all ! — the perjured wretch ! {goes up and down stage, furiously , followed by SiR MoRT. and Weth.). ViRG. I see il all, sir !— your vows are worthless, sir I {goes tip and down stag?, followed by Littlefield). ACT 4] SARATOGA. 4B Sackett {seizing Ben down c). My dear Jack, if any one finds a body flcating in the lake — or a pistol-ball through the head — or prussic-acid in the stomach — please identify it, and have it decently buried {starts R. 2. e., stops, and stag- gers back c). Enter Mrs. Alston, r. 2. c. Mr«. Alston (r. c). Ah, my dear Robert ! All. Hek dear Robert ! Carter. Egad ! he's everybody's dear Robert ! Sackett {reeling to Ben.). I say, Benedict, there's my vridotv ! Ben. Youi widow !— the devil it is ! That's my widow ! ( pushes him off, and 7-ushes up and down stage furious ; Effie, Virg., and others lualk up and down as before). Sack, {to Carter). My venerable friend, support me. (Carter staHs off' up and doivn stage indignantly). Ladies and gentlemen, please allow me to remain in the place in which I originally fell. {Drops on stage, c. Weth. and Sir MoRT. throiv blankets and sheets on him, which they have carried up to this time. Everybody going up and down stage in a most excited manner). curtain. ACT IV. Scene. — Parlottrs of the Grand Union, Saratoga, elegantly furnished and tipholstered. Table, c, and two chairs, sofas, R. and l. Old Rem. discovered sitting R. of table, fanning himself; newspaper in his hand. Old Rem. {grumbling). Waiter ! they call this travelling for pleasure, h— m !— travelling for pleasure — waiter! tra- velling — for — waiter ! ! Enter Gyp, l. c, fanning himself. Gyp (r. o/Old Rem.). Possibly I can do suffin for you, Bah ! Old Rem. Possibly you can. Gyp. Did you call for a culled gem'men, sah 1 Old Rem. Bring me some Congress water. Gyp (l.). Oh, yes, sah !— ahem ! certainly, sah— ahem ! {standing still). Old Rem Well, do you propose bringing it this summer or next 1 Gyp. Beg pardon, sah, but we culled gemmen at Sara- toga have made a new rule, sah— we always take it ia advance now, sah. Old Rem. Oh, you always take it in advance now {give» him currency). 44 SARATOGA. [aCT 4. Enter Muffins and children up stage. Muffins gives the children water from silver pitclier up R. Gyp {going— stopjs). Beg pardon, sah, but this is a ragged one, sail ; we culled gemmen of Saratoga have made a new rule, sah ! Old Rem. M— m. I am sorry to have put a coloured gentleman to so much trouble {gives him another). There ! take that, you rascal, and bring me some Congress water. {Exit Gyp, l. c). Ahem I they call this travelling for plea- sure ! Little Boy. Where is mamma to-day, IMufRns 1 Muffins. Your mother is at the races, my darling. Little Girl. We have hardly seen mamma at all since yesterday morning. Where was mamma last night, when we were going to bed ] jNIuffins {coming doivn). Getting ready for the ball. Little Girl. And where is papa, Muffins " Muffins. Your father is at the races, too. Little Boy. Where was papa last night ] Muffins. Where was your father last night? I don't know any more about that than your mother does, my darling. What uncomfortable questions these children do ask. to be sure ! [Exit ivith children, h. 2. E. Old Rem. Travelling for pleasure ! A man might as well be in a brick oven, with a warming-pan under his feet, and call it "travelling for pleasvire " {going c.)- Whew! (Gyp, entering, runs against Old Rem., who jmshes him. aside). Get out of my way, rascal — do ! [Exit, R. c. Gyp {indignantly). That individual is wantin' ii? proper respeck for culled gentility. De gemmen what is in good humour at Saratoga gives me fifty cents, and say, "Gyp, you rascal, go and take a drink ; ' and de gemmen what isn't in good humour say, "Gyp, you rascal, get out of my way, you rascal !" We culled gemmen at Saratoga is rascals, whichever way you put it. [Exit Gyp, r. 1. e. C Enter Virginia, rapidly, as if just from her carriage, followed hy Fkank Littlefield. tihe is nervous and angry. Littlefild. I'll do anything for your sake, my darling Virginia — scale the Alps — find the North Pole — Virginia (?('a//a«(7 back and forth angrily). I don't want the North Pt)le. Littlefield. Pierce the deep empyrean of the vaulted arch — Virginia. I don't want you to pierce the deep empyrean of the vaulted arch. Littlefield. Meet the tiger in his secret lair— ACT 4.] BARATOGA. 45 ViRCxiNiA (r.). Oh, you needn't fight the tiger on my account. The Major {strolling in quietly, L. 1. E.). The tiger! — that interests me. Mr. Vanderpo(il is excited {;up l., quietly). Virginia. Frank Littletield, if your professions of love for me are true LiTTLEFi ELD (l. raising, his hand as if to sivear) . Trn e — I — ViEGiNiA (r.). If you have one spark of honourable man- hood LiTTLEF. Manhood ! — I swear— — Virginia (l.). If— if Challenge Robert Sackett to mortal combat ! The Major. There's been a row ; this is particularly interesting— i will offer my own services. LiTTLEFiELD (l.). I wiU, Virginia. If he refuse to fight — Virginia. Post him for a coward ! LiTTLEFiELD. I will. If he do not refuse - Virginia {anxiously). Oh, but he tvill, Frank. I'm sure he will refuse. LiTTLEFiELD. If he do not refuse— I take my life in my hand — too happy — only too happy to lay it down in such a cause as that. \^txit, with impressive steps L. ViRG. {looking after him). If — if Robert Sackett should uccepjt the challenge — perhaps — I — Frank — Frank— The Major {tvalking doimi R ). Miss Vanderpool — I beg your pardon— no intention of listening, I assure you — but — you mentioned the "tiger," just now ; that word attracted my attention. I am somewhat familiar with the tiger — in fact, I have had many honourable scars ; — you also men- tioned Mr. Sackett's name. Virginia (l.). {jiatting her foot). I did. Mr. Robert Sackett has most grossly insulted me. The Major. Indeed— allow me the privilege— Miss Vir- ginia. Virginia. You will challenge Robert Sackett? {Draw- ing up.) Do it ! The Major. Your servant, Miss Virginia {raises her hand and going l. e.). {Aside) Two millions — and the only daughter. I have taken greater risks than that for smaller stakes. [Exit h. 1. e. Virginia. So — so— Mr. Robert Sackett !— we shall see (going uj) L., tvhere she ivalks hack and forth nervously). knter Effie rapidly up c. followed by Weth. a.nd Sir Mor- timer, Effie stojjs abruptly down L., Weth. and SiB M. stumble over each other, she then ivalks R. and L. eX' citedly, folloived by the gentlemen ivho stumble over eack other as she turns abruptly at each end, Weth. But, Miss Effie — - 4flf SARATOGA. [aCT 4t. Sir Mort. Miss— a — eh — Miss Ef-fie Weth. {to Sir Mort. at one end of the walk). Get out of tny way, sir— (to Effie) — Miss Effie Sir Mort. {at other end of toalk). I beg your pardon- will you keep out of the way ]— (to Miss Effie)— a— h— Miss Ef-fie [Each fime they meet they draw up and glare at each other, Weth. {at ont end). Confound it — sir ! {they draw tip). My dear Miss (l.). Sir Mort. (r.) {at other end). Dear me, sir ! {they draw v,p). My charming Miss ■ Effie (r., seizing Sir Mortimer's tvrist and cominf/ up suddenly with the air of a tragedy queen). Sir Mortimer Muttonleg {breathing heavily and looking over her shoulder at Wethertree). I will speak with you presently, Mr. Cor- nelius Wethertree (Wethkrtree tvalks l.). Sir Mortimer Muttonleg, a word with you in private. You say you ara iny slave— that — was —your — language — I be-lieve. Sir Mort. Y-e-s — allownie— toassure— you— a— h— Miss Effie — Effie. On one condition— I will be yours— /(>?• ever. Sir Mort. My dear Miss Eifie — I am sure — a-h— you delight me, upon my honour — you do. JS ame the condition — I shall be only too happy to Effie {impressively). Challenge Mr. Robert Sackett to mortal combat (Sir MoRTiMER/aZ/s hack R. into chair, Effik crosses with tragical manner to Wethertree L. — seizes hia wrist suddenly— he starts). Mr. Cornelius Wethertree — a word with you in private. You say you are my slave :— that —was — your — language — I — be-lieve. Wethertree. Your most devoted slave, Miss Effie— I — Effie. On one condition — I will be yours — for ever. Wethertree. My dear Miss Effie {eager hj), any condition in the world — I shall be delighted to Effie. Challenge Mr. Robert Sackett to mortal combat. [Wethertree falls back l., Effie swings up c. with a majestic stride. Sir Mort. (aside). Challenge- Mr. — Robert — Sackett — to — the — deuce — you know ! Wethertree {aside). Challenge — Mr. Robert — Sackett — to mortal — combat ! [Effie moves down c. with the same grand air. Effie (c). Gentlemen ! — I have spoken :— it is enough. Retire. Weth. (aside). I wonder if there is any danger of Backett's accepting a challenge. [Exit l. 1. a. ACT 4.] SARATOGA. 47 Sir Mort. These American girls are the most unaccount- •J*)^ creatures. {Exit R. 1. E. Effie swings up R., where she move* to and fro. Enter Carxer, b. 1. E., rapidly, very angry followed hy Lucy. LrcY. My dear— htskind— will you listen to me, this is •madness. Carter {ivalking r. and L. fi-ont excitedly). I say, I shall insist on satisfaction. Lucy. You have been growing more and more furious— every step of the way home. Carter. And I shall continue to grow more and more furious until I have the satisfaction due to a gentleman — a dozen warm kisses— madam. Lucy. He did not know I was married. Carter. A doctor of divinity, madam ! Lucy. He took the best possible care of me. Carter. Exactly— the place in which you originally fell, madam ! Alphonso della Madonna Martinetti — Bob, ma- dam ! Frederic appears r. 1. e. ; cane in hand, eye- glasses, (i'C. Frederic. Hillo ! the governor is excited. Carter. j\lr. Eobert Sackett, attorney at law, Cedar Street, New York — has insulted my wife— madam ! I am a gentleman of the old school — I shall insist upon satisfaction {moves about nervously). Frederic. Eh?— oh— Mr. Eobert Sackett has insulted —our wife '\ (Carter stops suddenly— stares at Fred.). Cer- tainly—we shall insist upon satisfaction. [(/ARTER ^^>a/^•s across tD Frederic, r., takes him hy the ear ani Uads him across and out h. 1. e. Carter. I should really like to know exactly whose wife this is. \Exit L. 1. e. Lucy {turnvy^ up stage). Oh ! girls ! here you are. Effje. Yes — we ars here. [Coming dotvn li., with a provoked air ; ViRO. comet doivn L. LtJCY (c). Did you hear Mr. Carter? ViRG. Yes — we heard Mr. Carter {ivith petulant air). Lucy 'c). He was furious all the way home — I thought he Would kill the poor horses. Mr. Carter is a gentleman of the old sthool ; he insists on demanding satisfrxtion of Mr. Eobert Sackett. Virginia. Good for Carter ! Effie. Hurrah ! for a gentleman of the old school ! 48 SARATOGA. [aCT 4. Lucy. Have you seen anything more of Eobert Saekett ? Effie. No, I haven't seen anything more of Mr. Robert Saekett — and I don't want to see anything more of Mr.liobert Backett — except his funeral. LUCY. If he's in Saratoga— I must find him— I will look for him everywhere. Effie. Yes, you are anxious to find the place in which you originally fell, I suppose. I know all about that sort of thing — I've been there. ViRG. So have I— I know how it is myself. Lucy. Oh ! do not quarrel with me now — I am wretched. Girls, girls — you do not know the feelings of a wife. Effie. No — and we're not likely to know them, as long as you can help it. ViRG. Tliat's what we're so mad about. Lucy. I mvst find Mr. Saekett — I will beg of him — I will insist— I— I— I must find Mr. Saekett ! [A'xit c. D. L. Effie. Virginia ! Virginia. Eflie ! (They kiss arid entwine arms). Effie. Let's go up into your room — and lock the door and have a good cry— all to ourselves. Virginia. Yes! (half sobbing), well get on the bed— and well shut the blinds — and we'll — we'll Effie {suddenly drawing iqi). No — we won't — no, we won't. We won't do anything of the kind. ViRG. Why— wh — what else can we girls do under circum- stances like this ^ Effie. I'll tell you what we'll do : — we won't let anybody know we care anything about it — we'll go and get dressed— and we'll come down into the drawing-room, exactly as if notliing had happened, and we'll talk and flirt and smile and look pretty, and say silly things to the gentlemen, just as we girls always do at Saratoga. [I.'cL'eunt arm in arm, c.v. Enter Mrs. Alston, l. 1. ■&., folloived by Benedict. Benedict (l.). But, my dear madam ! — Mrs. Alston. Very well — Mr. Benedict — very well. You have my ultimatum, Mr. Eobert Saekett has grossly insulted me — if you really love me, as you say you do, and are a man, as you profess to be by your clothes — you will demand an explanation. Ben. But, my dear Olivia Mrs. Alston. Dont call me your "dear Olivia," sir, until you have taken satisfaction — in somo form — of Mr. Robert Saekett. Ben. But Bob is my bosom friend. Mrs. Alston. Oh, very well, sir ; if you would rather have Mr. Saekett as a " bosom friend" than myself, you are welcome to the choice. ACT 4.] SARATOGA. 49 Ben. He has been my companion. Mes. Alston. If you prater Mr. Robert Sackett as a " companion " Ben. My classmate in college — my crony — Mrs. Alston. If you prefer Robert Sackett as a '' crony.'' Ben. My room-mate. Mrs. Alston. It you prefer Mr. Robert Sackett as a — ahem — Ben. The code of honour belongs to the middle ages. Mrs. Alston. The grand old. middle ages — when men were men — and women liad protectors. Ben. Civilization, madam ! — the code of honour is a relic of barbarism. Mrs. Alston. A little more middle age barbarity and a little less " modern civilization ' would improve the " gen- tlemen " of Saratoga. Ben. (l.). 1 should be making a fool of myself. Mrs. Alston. Your friends might not fail to recognize you on that accomit. Ben. I— I might, perhaps, punch Bob's head. Mrs. Alston. Uh — very well— if modern civilization will allow you to " punch '' the young man's head— do it by all means. Ben. But, my dear Olivia — I don't think Bob wonld — in fact — it's ten to one he will cheerfully resign all claim npon yourself to me — and Mrs. Alston. Indeed — indeed! So I am to be passed from one owner to the next like a thoroughbred race-horse — after the races are over. I'm to be bargained for and de- livered — according to contract — my good points guaranteed — warranted sound— sold and delivered free of charges — halter — blanket— and harness to go with the animah \^Exit angrily, E. 1. B. Enter Sackett, l. 1. e. i:>EN. {toithout seeing Sackett, ivho is looking out cautiously at the various entrances). Confoundedly awkward for me— the widow is as peremptory about her orders as a colonel of a regiment on dress-parada. Sack. Jack. Ben. You here. Bob— Sack. I — am — here — staunch and true — as the fellow says in the " Duke's Motto" — The affairs of my — my heart — have arrived at such a peculiar crisis — I consider it necessary as an American gentleman— to be on the spot. If I should retire to my suburban residence under the present circumstances — it would appear like an ignominious retreat, i am here to meet the enemy — provided, of course, it doesn't come in 3 60 SARATOGA. [aCT 4 the shape of female petticoats {looking K. and L.) — I shall avoid the enemy in that shape — if 1 have to run for it. Ben. Bob! — [ have been commissioned by Mrs. Olivia Alston — to punch your head. Sack. Do it, Benedict ; — my head is entirely at your dis- posal ; punch it by all means, I am a penitent and contrite man. I never saw a head which could be punched, with so much satisfaction to its owner, as mine, at the present, moment. Punch my head by all means. Ben. Seriously, Bob— the widow Sack. As I told you on a former occasion — the widow was an accident — I yield all claim, title, and interest in that direction, to yourself. j Ben. Oh, I know you would do that— it's all right, Jack,] so far as you and I are concerned — but Mrs. Alston — Sack. The widow insists on the technical points in the< case :— she wants the flag saluted. That's all right — we cam manage that. Jack. Ben. Manage it — Bob — do you really think I'd better: punch your head ] Sack. N-o ! On the whole — I — I've thought of a morei convenient arrangement. Ben. Oh — it's perfectly convenient, Bob,— to me. You^ needn't — hesitate on that account. Sack. I don't. Ben. The widow won't consent to anything less than that^- you know. Sack, She shall have more. What is the number of your room 1 Ben. No. 73 — private parlour, with bedroom and bathi room attached. Enter Gyp, r. 1. E., with salver and note. Gyp. Mr. Robert Sackett, I believe, sah. Sack. I believe so. Gyp. Yes— sah — gem-man pointed you out. He requested me to present dis note, sah— very important, sah — Sack, {leading address). " Kobert Sackett, Esq.'' — that's all right. Gyp. Beg pardon, sah, but we culled gem-man— at Sara- toga — has made a new rule— sah — we takes postage at boi ends, now, sah I Sack. Oh ! I wasn't aware of the new regulation in then post-office department {gives hirn something ; Gyp walks up R., s'ops) — the franking privilege has never existed at Sara- toga. {To Benedict)— I say — Jack — I'll meet you in youij| room, No. 73— in fifteen minutes. We'll make it all right^ with the widow, I have a plan that will work to perfectionr ACT 4.] SARATOGA. 51 —get you out of this scrape, and me, too, — and the widow more than satisfied. In the meantime — find the widow — tell her yon have challenged me to mortal combat. I accepted eagerly. Place, your room— time, immediate — coffee for two — pistols — and all that sort of thing. 1!en. I will — Bob — admirable. Ha — ha— ha — the widow will think we're perfect savages ! Ha, ha, ha. Captain Jack was a Christian — compared with us, and the Spaniards ! human beings- I'll tell her— Bob, — I'll tell her— pistols- coffee — revenge! Ha, ha, ha! [Exit r. I. k. Sack. {foUoiving him up and speahing, R.). And, I say, Jack— bid the widow a last farewell before you leave her— and don't forget to kiss her a dozen times or so — on my account — {turning L.)— I've overdrawn my account already, by-the-way, in that direction— but the bank has a remark- ably strong capital. Gyp (aside). Coffee— and pistols — room No. 73 — dare's sum pin wrong — goin on ! shuah ! Sack, (reading address of note). " Robert Sackett, Esq." {opening it, sees Gyp) — Well— anything more — no more post- age due— this is only single weight— I believe Gyp. De gem-man tole me to wait for de answer — sah — Sack. Ah— (reading). Here it comes. "Robert Sackett, Esq." "I have been requested by Miss Virginia Vanderpool" — (reads signature) — " Frank Littlefield." Say to Mr. Frank Littlefield— that Mr. Robert Sackett will be pleased to meet him — let me see (looks at his watch) — it's now just six o'clock — I shall be pleased to meet the gentleman at— where the ieuce shall I meet him ] Oh, certainly — at private parlour — No. 73 — at half-past six pre-cisely. Gyp. Yes— sah. Sack. Jack may be a little surprised— but he always did ike compfiny (turning to Gyp, who i^ deliberately going E. J. E.). General Washington- bring me a glass of Congress vater (exit Gyp). It is a trifle warm to-day— or else I ocket, spreads them out in one hand likea2)ach of cards) — I am under the impression that I have seen that name iomewliere. 4th Wait. Gem'man, sah— note, sah— very 'tickler, sah. Sackett walks across, takes note, opens it deliberately ivith his p)enknife. Sack, {reading). " Robert Sackett, Esq. Sir, — You have been making love," — the gentleman is correct : I have been making love—" to " — hello ! what's this 1 " You have been making love — to — my — mother !" {To ivaiter) Senator, that note is not for me {folding the note, and handing it back). There are some things in the way of making love, which even a gentleman can't stoop to. I have never yet been guilty of making love to another man's mother {walking L., and speaking with the air of a man tittering a weighty moral precejjt). 4th Wait. Must be for you, sah ; de young gem'man pointed you out personably, sah. Sackett walks back, takes the note. Sack, {reading). " Frederick Augustus Carter." Ah, yes ; exactly. General Sheridan, you may bring me a glass of — ice -water. 4th Wait. Yes, sah. [Exit, R. 1. e. Sack. If Mr. Frederick Augustus Carter should happen to come into private parlour, No. 73, 1 shall recall to his memory the tender ministrations of his tirdt mother ; the young man needs a spanking. Lie-enter Gyp, c. b. Gyp. Glass Congress water, sah. Sack. Eh] oh, yes — I forgot. Re-enter 1st Waiter, l. 1. e. 1st Wait. Glass claret, sah. \>6tands left o/Gyp. he-enter 2nd Waiter, r. 1. e. 2nd Wait. Bourbon whiskey sti-aight, sab. [Moves to R. of Gyp. Re-enter 3rd Waiter, l. 1. e. 3rd Wait. Brandy-and- water, sah — no sugar. * [Moves to L. of 1st Waiter. Re-enter 4th Waiter, l. 3. E. 4Tn Wait. Glass ice- water, sah. [ Takes his place beside 3rd Waiter. 4 54 SARATOGA. [ACT 4. Sackett stares at each as he enters, and finally standi before the row, his bach to the audience, looking from one end of the line to the other. Sack, {turning to andience). The situation calls for a speech. {Ttirns to them) Fellow American citizens — All Waiteks. Ya, ha ! ya, ha ! {grinning and recovering themselves). Sack. Of African descent. Unter Major Luddington Whist, l. 1. e. Majoe. Mr. Sackett — Sack. Eh ? oh — one moment, major. Gentlemen, you •will oblige me by taking it all to room No. 7i5. Lett face ! forward — file right — march I — file left ! — double quick ! ( The waiters flank and march according to orders out L. 2. E.) Now, my dear major, I am at your service. Effie steps in, se^s Sackett, stai'ts with a quick "Ah !" and stands motionless. Effie. There is the perfidious wretch himself ! Sack, {aside). If Major Luddington Whist comes on a similar errand, it means serious work. I wonder if Eflie Remington has set him on me, too 1 I have heard that {aloud) you wish to see me, major ] Major (l.). On a very delicate matter, Mr. Sackett. A young lady — Effie {aside). Ob, dear ! Virginia set the major on him — that means business. Sack. I understand you perfectly. Allow me to say, my dear major — in all seriousness — that I am ready to meet you anywhere, at any time, and with any weapon you care to name. If you choose to dispute with me the right to Miss Effie Remington's affections, I am entirely at your service, Effie. Ah ! seems to be in earnest now. Sack. Whatever may be the feelings of that lady, for myself I shall defend my own interest in her against all comers, until I receive a formal dismissal from her own lips. Effie. The darling fellow ! Major (l.). Really, there is a mistake. You will excus« Hie, Mr. Sackett, but we are labouring under a misunder- standing. The young lady to whom I refer is Miss Vir- ginia Vanderpool. Sack. Oh, Virginia Van that's a very different thing. Effie. A difi"erent thing ! Oh, — il est chaniiant ! Major. Not so different, I trust, that you will refuse the Batis Sack. Certainly not. Only I had fully resolved in the other case to carve you limb from limb. Meet me in pri- ACT 4.] SARATOGA. 55 vate parlour — No. 73 — at half-past six : will that be agree- able to yourself? Major. Perfectly so ; au revoir, Mr. Sackett. Sack. Da — da ! a bottle or two of Roderer, major 1 The Major. Moet et Cliandon is my favourite. Sack. Very well— Moet et Chandon — (The Majoe hoics ani exits L. 1. E.) — Teu minutes after six — {lo'iking id his Wtitch)— let me see — I must not forget that I have an engage- ment at half-past six. [Going u. 1. E. Effie (hnirylng fonvard). Robert — Mr. Sackett. Sack {tn-ning, sees Effie — hesildtes — hows). Good-after- noon, Miss Remington. [He turns to go e. 2. E. Emer Gyp, e. 2. B., appearing suddenly. . Gyp. Mistah Sackett. Sack. Private parlour — number seventy-three — half-past six — whoever it is. YExit E. I. B. Effie. Robert {moving to e. I.e.) — Robert ! Elder Mes. Alston rapidly e. 1, B. Mes. Alston. Oli ! Effie ! Enter Vjrgixia rapidly. Vibginia. Oil — Effie — Mrs. Alston • Enter LuCY L. 2. K. lapidly. Lucy. Effie— Virginia— Mrs. Alston! Effie. Oh — Virginia— Lucy — Olivia ! [Ladies moving to and fro. Mes. Alston. Oh — Jack— my dear Jack — my first love! [Sinks into a chair c. Virginia. Frank — my last love! [Sinlis beside her l. Lucy. My husband ! [Sinks beside her b. Effie {standing hack of her chair c). Robeet !! j'aime — que toi — my only love I [Ladies all choke, and then burst into simultaneous sobs. Picture. CUETAIN. END OF act FOUETH. ACT V. Scene. — Private parlour, Nnmher 73. Handsomely JurnisKed. Doors B. 2. e. and L. c. back. A large wwdndje or dresser at back C. Entrance door, l. 3. E. Ttddf c, tvithopen pisiol- cases ; box of cigars. Trag of champagne and cooler, pdcher^ Di-iciirered at rise of curtain, 'Be'S'EDICT arranging things on table. Benedict. Ha — ha — ha ! — I've fixed it so far with the 4—2 56 SARATOGA. [ACT 5 widow; she thinlcs I've ctallentjed Bob — and we're going to fight— ha — lia- and when Bob comes he'll tell me his plan — I can't imagine how he proposes to carry the thing out —but trust Bob Sackett for that — I never was good in matters of this kind — they've out of the regular line. I've got the pis- tols all riijht {blowing through them). No balls there. I wonder what Bob proposes to do. And the champagne — ha — ha — ha! We'll have a jollv tim^ at all events. {Knock.) Come in {Opens the door. Enter Gyp, followed hy all the othtr wniters, iv'tth their soluer and tumblers. They stop in line up stiije). Eh — what the deuce! Gyp. Coiigi-ess water, sah. \st Wa.it. Claret, sah. 2iid Wait. Bourbon whiskey straight, sah. Zrd Wait. Brandy and water, sah — no sugar. Aith Wait. Ice water, sali. \Theii all put dacn their lumhler and fall back to line, Ben. Well, wluit the deuce Sack, {entervn; l. 2. E.). Here I am, Jack. Hello — you liave company, I see. Ben. I - should — say — I — had. Where the deuce did thev come from ? Sack. All rig'it. Jack — It's only my bodyguard. Here you are, King William {inres Gyp a hill), divide that with the r. st of the army. Left face, forward, march ! \_Thr7/ march out L. Gyp hesitates at door. Gyp. Suffin's tip luaii— surtin. Gem'inen doesn't have pistols and dem tings all for nnilin. Suffin's wrong up in dis iieah room — sartin. I'll tell somebody, shuah. [^Exit L. 2. k. Ben. Well — now, Bob, tell me the re', R. c). I'll explain all — in here {aside). Egad, I'd rather trust her reputation with Benedict than with another woman (^tr/^i^* her hand and leads her to loom B. c). There's no help tor it, my darling, you must go into this room. Effie {pnudng). Oh Robert, Robert, if you are deceiving me again {he hurries her in R.). [Sack, shuts dour, r. c. J\nock h. 2. e. Sack, crosses to door. Ben. rushes from his rnam R. c. staring uuldljj. Ben. I say, Sackett, what in thunder — you've putaw;t»wa» in my room ! Sack. Why, confound it, man, you're not afraid of a woman ! Ben. Ain't I ? What will the widow say ? S vCK. My dear fellow, I've chosen your room as a place of safety, for her reputation. I have the most implicit confi- dence in your honour. Ben. (t'lkinij Sack.'s hand). My dear Sackett, you have more confidence in me than I have in myself. [ Hurrif^s out of door r. c. Rapid knock. Sack, {opening door L. 2. e.). Come in, sir. Enter Mieon !" Mrs. Alston {to Ben.). Never speak to me again I— never dream of me — never come into my presence ! Go back to your " surgeon." Ben. " Surgeon !" Mrs. Alston. Go back to your *' surgeon," sir ! [^She goes to L. 2. e., opening it siiddmli/. Weth. stinnhle* in us ifjnst knocking ; he falls in her arms, gathers himsrlf up. Exit Mrs. Alston l. 2. e , angrily. "Weth. {confused). I beg your pardon ! Sack, {to Ben.). Off witli your dressing-gown, off witli your dres.^iug-gown. Here's your coat, if you value the widow's lovo — this is the critical moment — attack the enemy 'h batteries— horse, foot, and artillery. Ben. But, Sackett, I dare not face a woman — and particu- larly a widow — in such a condition as th;it. Sack. JNTonsense ! be a man. A wom;in in a passion is a woman at her weakest moment. Confront her — meet her face to face ; strike now or never ; the victory's yours. Ben. {hurrying). 1 am leaping into the very jaw of death , say a prayer for me. old boy. [^He opens door Jj. 2. Y. suddenly; SiB MoBT. stumbles in, as ij' knocking. Ben. thruws him across stage E. md ruslies out. Sir iVl ORT. Beg pardon, sir. Sack. (c). Gentleraen, I've been waiting for you. It is exactlj' twenty minutes before five ; don't apologise, however. The coroners Jiaven I arrived yeA. SieMokt. Coroners! Sack. I left word for a couple of coroners to drop in about this time ; they are a little late — but it docBn't matter— the corpses are not quite ready. ACT 5.] BARATOGA. 63 Weth. Corpses ! Sack. The undertaker will disappoint us, I fear. Tlio coffins will be all right — two of them — with silver-plated handles. b^iB MoET, Coffins ! — silver-plated handles ! Sack. But he has only one hearse to spare ; do you object to riding double, gentlemen ? VV'eth, Riding double ! Sib Mort. Riding double ! [Effie looks out, soeiirns, and shuts door. Weth. and Sin Mo'RT. stmt and s/aifR. JjVCY looks from closet c. Weth. and Sir Mokt. turn and stare upstage. All look round in amazement. Sack. Gent'emen, this is a very remarkable room; it is known as tlie Echo Clianibcr. Weth. Those were \ cry remarkable echoes. Sir Mort. Tliose echors do business apparently on their own responsibility ; they are entirely independent of any original sound. \\ eth. Mr. Sackett. I called at your room at the appointed hour, in the hope that we might arrange our difficuUies upoa a mutually satisfactory basis. Sir Mort. Exactly the same with myself; the relations which Miss Remington bears towards me Weth. {s/ia>pli/). Miss Remington don't bear any relations towards 3'ou at all, sir ! SiB Mort. I beg your pardon. Miss Remington consented to be the wife of my bosom, the day before yesterday after- noon. Weth. I beg ^/onr pardon ; you are mistakenin the bosom. Sir Mortimer. Miss Remington consented to be the wife of ni7/ bosom. Sir Most. My dear fellow — it was my bosom, I assure you. Weth. My bosom, I will swear. Sack. Ah, gentlemen, let us settle the matter at once; how lucky it is that I have the weapons at hand. Here is something for each of your bosoms. Here you are, Mr. Weihertree — iiere j^ou are, S\rM.orl\mcr {/ia)ids them pistols). Pvo preliminaries are necessary. One of these pistols is loaded with ball, the other is not. "You will take your place there, Mr. Wethertree. Sir Mortimer, you will stand there. You settle with each other, and I will settle with the sur- vivor. [^Scream. LccY, Effib, and Virginia (peeping out). Oh! they're going to fight. Ah ! {tctjri/ter). [A knock. 64 . SARATOGA. [aCT 5. Enter Littlefield. Lhtlefield. Sorry to have detained you, Mr. Sackett, I was unexpectedly detained. Enter Major, l. 2. e. Majob. Better late than never, my dear Sackett. Ah ! you have not forgotten tlie nine, I see. \_Goes to R. of table and pours out wine. Enter Carter and Feedertck, with pistolcasp, l. 2. e. Carter (l. c). Open the box, Frederit-k. laninot toolate, 1 see. Mr. Sackett, you are prepared, I suppose, to give me the satisfaction of a gentleman. Enter G\v , followed by Mr. and Mrs Van. and old Rem. Gyp. Heah dey is, gemmen, pistols and cigars. I know'd suiEn was up. Van. (l. c). Mr. Sackett, Carter, Sir Mortimer, Major, Mr. Wetlieriree, Littlefield. Mrs. Van. {on opening box). Ah ! pistols — more pistols. Gentlemen, what does this mean ? [Van. seex slunvl dropped hy Mrs. Alston. Van. [piclciiig up sliawl). Eli, what {lo'kf all rmind). This doesn't belong to any of you gentlemen, I suppose ? l^All still e lit xhaivl, then at Sack. Mrs. Van. A lady's shawl in Mr. Sackett's private apart- ment. I am positively shocked. Old Rem. M'm, so am I. Weth. It doesn't b long to me. SiK Moet. Nor to me. Sack. Eh ! oh— a shawl \ that's very odd. How did I happen to leave that shawl it/ this room ? Van. M'm, I'm not quite certain that you did leave it in this room. Old Rem. (l.). I think myself there is some doubt on that ;,>oint. Sack. (c). That shawl is one of the most valuable memen- toes in my possession. Van. Ah! Old Rem. M'm. Sack. I wouldn't lose that shawl for the world. Van. Oh, I dare say not. Sack. I— I often take that shawl out of my trunk when 1 ;un alone, and no one by to interrupt the sweet memories Wiiich float into my brain. I unfold that shawl with all the idiiderness of early manhood, and as I contemplate its folda ACT 5.] SARATOGA. 65 I think of her whose shoulders it once adorned. My poor old aunt ! {He ivalks r.) Sim. j\I. Ahem ! Old Rem. Gammon ! Carter. Stuff and nonsense \ 4^„„.i^„ Weth. Very likely \together. [The three old gentlemen j^unching each other in the ribs, L. c] Van. M'm— y-e-s^he— he— he— it belonged to his aunt. Fred. I notice I'd like an aunt or two of the same kind. Major {at back of table— raising glass). Gentlemen, here's a glass to the memory of Mr. Sacketts aunt. Weth. {to Sir M.). I say, Sir Mortimer, the shawl belongs to one of those echoes. [Sackett sees Effie's scarf, snatches it 'up, and crams it into his coat-tail jiockei, leaving pa7~t exposed, just in time to escape detection as they all turn to him. He walks c. Sack. When I was a very little boy Carter. When they called you Bob for short. Sack. Yes, my aunt always called me " Bob." I was left an orphan when I was a very little boy. My aunt was more than a mother to me ; I was left in her care. She brought me up. Van. M'm, I can't say much for the way she did it. Sack. (c). I remember one day, when I was a very little boy, my aunt laid her hand upon me. Old Rem. M'm. I don't think your aunt laid her hand upon you quite often enough when you were a little boy. Sack. Oh, yes, she did. I shall never forget that woman as long as I live. I shall never forget her as long as I have any feeling in my heart, or in any other part of my body. {Walks L., the old gents together laughing as before.^ Old Rem. Ha — ha. i say -if he'd only had six or eight more aunts when he was a very little boy. Van. And if they'd all have laid their slippers on him in stead of their hands. Carter. Egad, he wouldn't be so partial to the female eex and other popple's wives. j Sack (c). Gentlemen, it may be a laughing matter to you ; but I assure you, gentlemen, my early memories of my aunt arc no laughing matter to me. All. Ha — ha— ha {punching each other all round). Sack. Gentlemen, there are moments in every man's life when the recollections of the past come floating upon the memory like aromatic zephyrs from a distant land— 66 SARATOGA. [aCT 5. moments, gentlemen, when one wishes to be alone {signi- ficantly). All. Ahem! Sack. When one longs to be alone. All (aside). Yes,— very likely. Sack. There .ire moments, gentlemen, when the heart comes swelling into the throat Van. I should say there were moments also when it came swelling into the back. (Rttbs his hand over the back of his coat.) Sack. Sir ! Old Rem. (crossing to L, c). You have a remarkably fine figure, Mr. Sackett. Sack. Oh, you like my figure. Yes, I always did pride myself on my figure. [Vanderpool ptdls opera-cloak from under his coat, looks at it as the conversation proceeds ; then throws it over his arm. Mrs. V. (r. of Sackett). I beg your pardon, Mr. Sackett. {She pulls a bonnet string which brings Virg.'s bonnet from his breast.) Did this also belong to your aunt ? Sack. That ! eh ! oh, no ! That belonged to my sister ; she was the only sister I ever had, Mrs. Vanderpool. {As he sjjeaks Old JEIem. pidls Effie's scarj rrom his coat-tail pocket.) Old Rem. Did this belong to your sister also, Mr. Sackett 1 Sack, (turning to him). Eh ! That, oh, ahem ! No — that belonged to another sister. _ Mrs. V. Another sister ! I thought this was the only sister you ever had. Sack. Oh, yes, certainly that was the only sister / ever had. This belonged to another man's sister. Van. Egad, I suspected as much ! Carter. I could swear they all belonged to " another man's sister." Major (at table). Here's the very good health of " an- other man's sister." Mrs. Van. (starting, looking at bonnet). Ah ! Virginia ! and it's Virginia's bon'uot ! Where's her head 1 Van. Eh ] What 1 {Starts xip with her, dropping operas cloak.) Old Rem. {crosses to R.). Egad, this is Effie's white laco scarf. C AUTEn (taking up opera-cloak). Eh ]— what ?— Mrs. Car- tar's opera-cloak ] VS 7 7. « ACT 5.] SARATOGA. 67 [Carter opera wardrobe c. Mrs. Van. opens door l. Rem. opens door R. Scream frora all ike youngwomen. Carter (r. c). Mrs. Carter herself ! Old Kem. (r. c). Tliey call this travelling for pleasure ! LiTT. and Major. Virginia Vanderpool ! Sir M. Effie Remington, by Jove ! Lucy, comhui c , her head doivn, she leans against chair ^. Effie and Virg., r. and l., confused. Sack. My friends, I— 1 dare say you — you are somewhat surprised at Old Rem. M'm, yes, somewhat. Sack. The ladies— Mrs. Carter, Miss Vanderpool, Miss Remington — the ladies— in fact, before the gentlemen ar- rived, the ladies all entered this apartment — together. Effie, Virg., and Lucy. Ob, yes,— we all came in together. Sack. They all came in together to intercede with me for those they love best, to save them from the certain destruc- tion which awaited them at my hands. Miss Virginia ex- claimed to me — " Oh, Robert, you will not meet Frank Littlefield ; you will not risk a life that has become so dear t» me. I have learned to lovs Frank Littlefield," Van. Ah ! ahem ! Littlefield. My dear Virginia. Virg. Frank {c7'osses to hiiu). Sack. Take her, Littlefield ; make her happy. I give you both my blessing. Fll be your brother-in-law. {Turns to Carter) Mr. Carter, I owe you an apology and an ex- planation. Mrs. Carter entered my room to-day to plead for your safety only. {Takes Lucy's hand) Take her. Carter, in all her blushing loveliness {passes her to Carter^Fred receives her). Carter. Devil take that boy. (Lucy slaps Fred, and runs to Carter.) Sack, {coming l. c). Ahem ! Miss Effie. Effie (r. c). Ahem ! Robert,— you may ask papa. Sack. My dear Mr. Remington Old Rkm. (r. c). 1 think it's rather late in the day to ask papa. (Effie and Sack embrace.) VVeth. (r.). Ahem, I say. Sir Mortimer, there are as good fiish in the sea as ever was caught {goes up ). Sir M. (r.). I don't think I'll tish any more in American waters. These American girls are the most auaccountable creatures. Enter Ben. and Mrs. A. arm in arm, L. 2. a Ben. leading her L. C. Sack. Hallo ! an unconditional surrender. C8 SAEATOGA. [aCT 5. Ben. (l. c). Certainly ; that is the regular thing, Bob. Mrs. a. What could I do ] The man was perfectly out- rageous. The more I silenced him the more he talked. I capitulated for the sake of peace. I have exacted one con- dition, however. Whenever he needs a "surgeon'' again, ^■c: must call on me. Oh, her& is my lace shawl. I was wondering where I left it. {Takes shawl from Van.'s arm. Sensation.) Van. Ah— then you are Mr. Sackett's aunt. Old R. Egad, all the women in the house have been here. Mrs. a. Mr. Sackett's aunt ! Carter. You were more than a mother to him. Mrs. a I — more than a mother to Mr. Sackett ! — I've never been anything of the kind to anybody. Sack. But here's a little woman, wlio will be more than a mother to me — more than a sister — brother— cousin — uncle — aunt — more than a mother-in-law— more than all the world beside — my wife. {To audience) Ladies and gentlemen— when I was a very little boy Effie. There — never mind when you were a very little boy Sack. Young gentlemen, whenever you find a lady in your arms or your heart Effie. Allow her to " remain in the place iu which she originally fell." CU&TAUk ^"^ K< ^ * CSffP^ " "^r. cp- C'' *V,/7;^^' ^ .^"^ /.-$$S\W^ "v. , ^ 0^ o V K -^^0^ :m V