PS 3509 .L42 115 1889 Copy 1 THE MINOTAUR THE MINOTAUR " Sonie'ii'here I've read that tlie ancients sacrificed their daughters to a inouster called the Minotaur . Like them. father. \oji have sold me to this modern Minotaur.'' Act III. A COMEDY DRAMA In four acts./^ CHARLES S. ELGUTTER. CHARACTERS. John STirBBOHN.—Wlio lovi's only wlijit l)elon,iis to liim and is tlic man of I * his name. ' CHAFtLES STITB1J()KN.--His son, a risinji,- yoiiiiu- man with ideas of his own as to filial love. ( Makquis I)K Montmokencv.— a man of pleasiiie who consults his own peace ; of mind, cost what it may. JuTiES C'HETiN.~The Steward of Maison Blanche, witli an eye to his sister's welfare. Maklin.— The parish priest witli a warm heart and a young head. l'\TOU I '''^^^ gamekeepers who come to grief. .7ac:ques.— Valet to Charles Stubborn. Claire ue Montmokencv.— Daughter of the INIarciuis. wlio has American ideas of marriage. Countess i>e Polignac— Sister of the Maniuis, totally opposed to the American ideas of her neice, yet capable of self-sacrifice in the cause of the family honor. CATHEiiiNE.— Sister of Cretin in search of a husband. Servants at Maison Blanche and at Montmorency. INC/DENTS. / CT I.— The Meeting. . - w ' Scene 1. Library in Maison Blanche o *^ •? O K / Scene 2. A disputed path. ** ^ -^ • f -'' Scene 3. Atthebi'ook. ACT II. -The Resolution. 2 ' Scene 1. Music room in the Ciiateau Montmoi'ency. ACT III.— The Refusal. Scene 1. A. salon at Chateau Montmoi'ency. ACT IV.— The Reconciliation. Four months ai'e supposed to have elapsed. Scene 1. A room in the Paris mansion of the Marquis de Montmorency. Time— the present. Place— Montmorency, and Paris. Entered according to the Act of Congress in the office of the Libi arian of Congress at Washington, in the year 1889, by Charles S. Elgnitcr. All rights reserved. Mckermann Bras. & Heintze ^Printers, Dmahi )$i'\ h The Minotaur ACT I. Scene 1. The liljrary of Maison Blanche. [Through window a view of the Chateau Montmorenc3\ The sound of carriage wheels is heard, and slaniniing of carriage door. Cretin speaking without.] Cretin — Here Paul, the bandboxes and the shawls. [Eiiter Cretin and Catherine. Servant with boxes and wraps passes into adjoining room.] Welcome to Maison Blanche, sister, all shall be yours. Catherine— [Looking around.] Delightful, Enchanting! Dear Jules, how much you have done for me! Cretin — I knew it would please you; a l)eautiful home isn't it? Catherine — It seems like a dream; your sudden appearance at Mar- seilles with the surprising message to come with you to this grand place has quite unnerved me. Cretin — As I told 3-ou, it was part of our agreement. "Get the mortgages and I will marry your sister," said he. It was a large price I asked for this service, but I have well earned ni}^ fee and shall be amply repaid in seeing you the wife of John Stubborn. Catherine — Dear Cretin, dear brother. But where is Mr. Stub- born? Of course you informed him of our coming? Cretin — Well — ah — that is, not definitely. When I secured the mortgages I telegraphed to vStubborn that Montmorency was his. Then I went post haste for you — but he understands. Catherine — [Petnlently.] He does not knew then, I am here? Cretin^My dear child do not fret on that account. Business men do not like lengthy explanations. Their word is as good as a bond. Besides the mortgages are now in his hands and nou are here. Catherine — Will I please him brother? Cretin — Tut, tut, of course you will. Vou see, he is under peculiar obligations to me for past services. And if I do say it myself you are decidedly attractive. Remember, the man you are to marry is well along in years. Why, he has a son who is twenty-four. Catherine — Your words are reassuring. You will pardon me how- ever if I confess that I can scarcely realize, at one stroke of fortune I am to be transformed into the mistress of Maison Blanche, [goes to window.] How beautful the park! Cretin — [Joins her.] All this was once the domain of the Montmor- encys. That stream yonder, how-ever, is now the dividing line. But the lands wnll soon be reunited for we hold the mortgages of the Chateau itself. Catherine — You were not a faithful servant of the Marquis' interests. Cretin — Oh, fie, sister, you know the Marquis was always a butter- flv of light w'ing, and everv beautiful actress was a candle which singed him. iFor years after the death of his wife he led a gay life in Paris reiving on me to pay tlie piper. Catherine — And it is quite evident you paid the fiddler as well. Cretin — I managed his estates prudently enough. But when a pretty face or a well-turned ankle kept plunging him deeper into debt, what was I to do? Catherine — So I suppose you sold and mortgaged ever3'thing. Cretin — The Marquis had his head completely turned b^'a famous danseuse — let me see, how long ago was that — I can't just recall it, but it was the winter when Paris went wild over the performances of Mile Sara of the Gymnase. She led him a pretty caper. I was in distraction to pay for this expensive flirtation when, good luck would have it, John Stubborn came back to his birthplace after forty years. Nobodv remembered him. But he came to me and wanted only a modest garden where he could end his days in peace — shrewd fellow — begged me to sell him a strip of sand off in one corner, just enough of a patch to raise a bed of turnips — sharp schemer — and offered me such a tempting sum that I closed the bargain. That was the enter- ing wedge. But one day after I had sold to him, Heaven knows, more than I should, tlie Marquis appeared with his daughter and sister at the Chateau and told me I had obeyed instructions too literally, and so I ( hanged mast eis. Catherine — And this remarkable man it is whom I am to marry. [Enter Jaques with hatbox, fishing rod etc., etc.] Jaques — Oh, pardon me, I did not know you had returned sir. Cretin — Surprised to see me back ,eh. Well Jaques where is ;:Mr. Stubborn? Jaques — In the garden sir with the Marquis. Cretin — The Marquis de Montmorency! Jaques — Excuse me sir, Mr. Charles has just come as well. [Exit ] Cretin — Charles! I don't understand this. Catherine — What has happened brother, bad news! vShall I not see Mr" Stubborn to-day? You seem quite excited. Cretin — Excited/oh not at all, you shall see him in good season. For the present allow me [escorts Catherine and bows her out.] The Marquis here! Charles here! What's in the wind? [Exit] [Enter John Stubborn and the Marquis.] Stubborn — [Bows with much ceremonv. makes a parade of offering the best chair, but the Marquis declines it and takes another] At 3^our service Marquis. Marquis — Let us speak of the business in hand. I have come as you know to request you to renew my mortgages. Ask any interest you wish. Stubborn — For whom do you take me? For an usurer, I suppose. Heaven forbid. I made my money by working with these two hands. I never lent money at so much a year and I don't propose to begin that business to-day. Marquis — Well, take a mortgage on my personal propertv. Stubborn — As for mortgages of any kind, I hate the sight of them. Marquis — If you will insist on having vour pay you have the power to foreclose on Montmorenc^^ Stubborn — What, all Montmorency? Marquis — One moment. IVIontmorency, as you are aware, is worth more than five hundred thousand francs, the face of your mortgages. Several will share in the sale of the estate. Stubborn — Marquis, I am a blunt man and say what comes upper- most in my mind. I was a boy here, a gardener lad in the service of your father. He struck me to earth one day, the insult rankled in my breast. I made a vow that I would revenge myself for that blow. I went to Paris, I became rich, I determined to own Montmorency cost what it may. But I do not desire to take Montmorency from you. Surely I have no reasons to wish you well; you have made my life miserable; you have made me become old before m)- time; you have brought law-suits against me — Marquis — For love of Heaven, no more law-suits. Stubborn — As I was saying, I never had reason tcr spare you, and yet I feel reluctant to take Montmorency. Wh> ? Because you have a daughter. I saw Mademoiselle Claire de Montmorency only a moment yet she wholly captured my heart. My ol)ject is to serve her. Marquis — Your sentiments do you honor Mr. Stubborn. Stubborn — Some weeks ago I determined to close in upon you. I sent Cretin to Paris to bu}' all the mortgages on Montmorency and in order to encourage him to make *a clean sweep I promised him that were he successful I would marry his sister. A few days afterwards I spied Mile de Moutmorency on horse-back and I did not have the heart to injure her. Suppose Montmorency falls into my hands, what will happen? Paris has her pleasures and her women; it will not be your fault; if Montmorency is sold your daughter will lie on a bed of straw, and I don't wish her to come to that. Marquis — [With an effort] Thank you. Stubborn — You have a daughter and I have a son. I will not say that he is worthy of her, but he is truly a young fellow of the greatest promise. Let them marry. Put your prejudices aside. There is no longer any question of Marquises but of men, and the utmost you could do for your daughter if she had a dow^y of a million — which she hasn't — would be to get for her a fine, intellectual young man like my son. Now my boy doesn't ask for a dowry. On the contrary he will bring one. The day he marrys Claire de Montmorency I will give him a million — think of it, a cool million! Marquis — You are the soul of generosity, Stubborn. Stubborn — Don't say another word. These advantages you have not had time to consider. As for that little debt of yours we will sa}' nothing nioie about it. You will find me the most charming of fathers-in-law. Then, too, think of your daughter; neither dowry nor expectations. What can 3^ou do with the poor child? Suppose some Duke or Marquis consents to marry her. I'll bet ten to one he'll be a clown or a fellow living on his wits. You don't know what sacri- fices I'm going to make for my boy. He is the apple of ni}- eye, he's my idol. Marquis — Ah, truly. vStubborn — What an example we are going to set before our country; and one must do something for one's countr}^ You hear patriots proclaim, "equalit}- before the law." I tell you it is a sham. The world is full of good fellows like myself who hate aristocrats, and aristocrats say to us [kicks with his foot] "get out of our way." Yes, the struggle of the Stubborns and Montniorencys is at the bottom of the social and industrial crisis. One hears the world over the tramp of workmen's shoes going up the palace stairs and the patter of polished boots coming down. Marquis let us reconcile the two. Let us intermarry the old with the new regime and restore the equi- librium. Marquis — [With forced calmness.] I will be charmed to reconcile the old and new regime. But the fact is, you business men always want bargains. Now, when a man wants to buy Claire de Mont- morency and the Chateau as well, it is for the seller to make .some of the conditions. vStubborn — Oh, a question of money with you, eh. With me it is a question of my son's happiness. Agreed. Will yon anins^ yourself a moment while I scribble off a contract. Marquis — A contract! Stubborn— [Writing and speaking at Ihe table at which he has seated himself.] An agreement by which in case of your backing out of the proposed marriage, you surrender Montmorency at once. Marquis — Hold, add in consideration, of the mortgages and the the further sum of — sa}- two hundred thousand francs. vStubborn — [Aside.] Two hundred thousand francs, the avaricious rascal! [Aloud,] Well so be it. what matters a paltry few thousand more or less where one's happiness is at stake. Agreed. Affix your signature here. One moment, there must be witnesses to this transaction. [Enter Jaques.] Jaques — Mr. Charles is here. Stubborn— The very thing, ask him in. [Exit Jaques.] Stubborn — Now you will see my son, Marquis, and must acknow- ledge that I have not been misled by a father's partiality. Marquis — I am sure he is all that I could expect in the husband of my Claire. But Stubborn, are you sure the young people will do as we desire? vSiubborn — What's that? j\Iy son cross his father! My son knows no other will but mine [laughs boisterously.] Why Marquis, since the day of his birth I do the thinking and speak for him. I will that she shall please him and by Heaven she shall. [Enter Charles and Jaques.] Stubborn — [Running up to his son and embracing him.] My boy, my boy! What have have you been doing to yourself? Brown as a berry! Surely a trip to England could not have tanned 3^ou like a gypsy. Charles — The gentlemen to whom you gave nie letters had villas on the Thames and all of them invited me to their homes. Their sons insisted on my rowing and their daughters taught me tennis. So vou see father, you are the ultimate cause of action. Siubborn-— Oh hang your law jargon. By the 1)}% I want you and Jaques to witness the signing of an agreement Vjetween m^-self and the Marquis de Montmorency. ^Nlarquis, I have the honor to present to you my son Charles. ]\Iarquis — Mr. Charles Stubborn, I have great pleasure in meeting you. You have not been here before, I believe. Charles — No sir, this is the first time that I was ever in my father's new house. ^larquis — I take pleasure in welcoming you sir to this quiet country retreat and to your father's beautiful home. I hope that in a few days all obnoxious barriers between Maison Blanche and Montmor- ency will be removed and that we all will be on those friendly terms necessary for ones peace of mind. Let the past be forgotten by you as itwill be by myself. Charles — It will not be difficult for me to forget what I never knew. I must warn you however that I invariably think my father is in the right. Stul3born — [ Patting him on the back. ] Ah, he's got you there Marquis. Marquis — Yes, so I see. But are the papers ready? Stubborn-^Here they are. Jaques, you are to witness the sign- ng of an agreement between myself and the ^Marquis de Mont- morency here present. [Marquis signs llie two copies of the agree- ment. John vSuibborn signs. Then Charles signs as witness, while lie is signing John Stubborn nudges the Marquis.] Stubborn — A fine fellow eh, a gentleniau to the backbone, sharp as a razor too. Oh you'll be satisfied with him. Marquis — An amiable young man no doubt, if he is your son vStub- born. [Jaques signs and leaves the room. Charles signs last, drys the copies and hands one of them with a bow to the Marquis.] Charles — With your permission. ^Marquis — Thank you. I hope I shall see you [to Charles.] Stubborn— [Interrupting.] Certainly :\Iarquis, to-morrow. We'll be at the Chateau on lime depend on it. ^Marquis — [Aside.] Damn these impudent plebians. How he is pressing this matter; [aloud.] oh, yes certainly; — shall be charmed to meet vou. Sav at Stubborn— Eight. ?*Iarquis— At eight, well so be it. [Consults his watch.] I've an important engagement. Will you excuse me gentlemen? [To Stub- born] I regret I cannot accept your hospitality. Good day. [Sal- utations are returned and father and son escort Marquis to the door bowing him out.] Stubborn — [Clapping his son heartih- on the back] Oh \'Ou lucky young dog! Such a beautiful girl — such e3'es — such hair — such a walk, and she rides like Dinna. If I were ten years younger I wotild have her myself. And then so sensible, so spirited, so fear- less and so charitable too. Charles, I have shown throughout your life that I loved you, but I never gave such a proof as when I selected Claire de Montmorency for your wife. Charles — [Absolutely bewildered.] For my wife! Father do you intend me to marry? StubI)orn — Of course I do. How am I to have a grandson if you don't marry? John Stubborn de INIontmorency! How well it sounds! — No it doesn't either. I don't like the de. It recalls those despotic nobles. Clu-.rles, we will suppress the de. Your son shall be called John Montmorency Stubborn. Yes, it shall be so. Charles — But father, I haven't seen- the lad\'. Stubborn — [Good humoredly.] What does that matter, I have seen her and I tell you she has ever\' grace and virtue. Why, my dear boy, do you think in choosing a wife for you I wouldn't get the best article i-i the market? Charles — The best article mi the market! She consents to accept a husband she has never seen! vStubborn — The Marquis has seen yoir. Charles — If he is satisfied with that, he is a very considerate man. Stubborn — Is he! A bigger rogue and rascal I never met in the whole course of my life. When you are married we will kick that spendthrift of a father out of doors. To get Claire de Montmorency for vou, I have made great sacrifices which as a business man I can- not quite reconcile myself to. Charles — Give me a little time for reflection. In trying to make me happv vou niav be making me miserable. Stubborn — [Angrily.] You are not in love with anybody! Charles — No, I'm not in love, but I do expect to be allowed to choose a wife myself. From ;-our tenderness as a parent, from your liberal opinion as a man, I Stubborn — Ta, ta, ta, ta. Don't talk to 3-our own father who has made a man of 3-011 as if he was a lawyer on the other side of some miserable case. I don't want any of your justice court pleadings, do you hear sir, do you mind that sir? Charles you make me very angry. Wh}^ don't you give me your hand as my son should and say, father I will mary Claire de Montmoren«y whenever you please. "Tender- ness as a parent and liberal opinion as a man" [with sarcasm ] Charles — You give me no time for reflection. Stubborn — I don't want 3'ou to reflect Obey! Charles — Obev'- You are more despotic than those nobles you des- pise. It is true I am 3'our son and owe 3'ou deference Stubborn — Oh, you admit that do you? Charles — But I am also a man, and will not be bullied into obedi- ence. I shall think this matter over. I know your powers of dis- crimination and the chances are that 3-ou have chosen wisely for me. I know your love for me and the chances are that 3'ou have chosen someone who will make me happy. I likewise know your disposi- tion and how fearfully 3'Ou punish disobedience. I know my father, let m3' father know iiis son. Stubborn — [With forced calmness.] Have you done sir? Charles — You makers of millions have great powers of combina- tion. You play at the game of life as 3'OU would at chess. Men and women are the pawns to be moved here and there as 3-ou will. Al- though I am your son, I am after all only a cherished toy in your hands, destined in 30ur plan to reach the last row. But I too ma3' be a chess pla3'er and have nw coni1)ination and m3^ plans. Stubborn — Phrases, phrases, a schoolboy's tattle. [With an ef- fort.] Mr. Charles Stubborn we dine at four. I will be highly hon- ored — I desire — I shall want — damn me, give me your answer before we break bread together. Charles — [With hand on door knob.] I understand sir, and 1 would to heaven 3-ou would comprehend me. If 3-ou onl3^ knew your son to be a man and not a pawn. [Exit] Stubborn — Stuff and nonsense, a sentimental dreamer; bah. It fairly makes my blood boil. But I'll be calm. To oppose my wishes and have the insolence to stand up before n^- ver3- face! Oh, but I'll be calm. Why, I'm alwa3'S right. A doctor of laws, umph, and can- not see what are his best interests. He must marry her. It isn't a small advantage for an ambitious fellow- to have a Montmorency in his pocket. These noblemen make excellent alliances. They have royal blood in their veins. Everybod3'' honors them. The3- have the genius of intrigue. There, look at my lawsuits, the Marquis had only to whisper in the ear of the Judge and he decided instanter that the Marquis,' pig> did not eat my cabbages. The w jrld is corrupt and we must get on the winning side. Dares me to my face! But I'll be calm. With the easy victor3- I won over the Marquis. I'm in too good a humor to fly into a passion. Oh, he'll come 'round, he'll come 'round. If he should defy me I'll not think of that, it chokes me. He shall marry Claire de Montmorency. That is decreed by the stars, because it has been written in mv head. But I'll be calm, I'll be calm. [Exit.] SCENE II. Scene. — [A disputed path in the woods between the two estates. Pitou with fowling piece followed by Patou with cudgel.] Patou — Here's where you meet? Pitou— The wery spot brother. He stops when he seed me and I sa3-s to him, "Monsieur Jacjues, whose ground be this 3-ou walk 9 on?" Says he, "John Stubborn's, fool." Mark yon, he called uie fool. vSays I, "This be the Marquis' wood, poacher." Mark you, I called him poacher. Then he says tome, "You lie yon scurvy dog." Mark yon, he called me dog, a scurvy dog. Patou--Ha! [Swings his cudgel.]' Piton — Then we came to blows, and we fit and we fit, and we fit. His thumps have left a stouebrnise on m\- pate, brother. Patou — He called you dog and shaked his fists at you? This l)e damning evidence. Pitou — So it be Patou, for doesu't the constable say, trespass is an aggrewating offence, but 'sault and battery be a double wrong in the eye of the law? Patou — Aye.that't be. Therefore in the name of the law go you before Pitou — Must I Patou, is't so in law? Patou — [Nods vigorously.] I heered it so myself. Pitou — Good. Then, brother stand you by, I'll be rewenged on this strutting Jaques Patou — Hold, brother, it may be murder to use 3'ourgun. Pitou — Dolt! Be not afeerd. We'll keep within the law. Don't save your blows but cudgel him, cudgel him well. I'll hold him hard. [Presents his gun to his shoulder.] Patou — You have a wise head on your shoulders, brother. Pitou — So I have been told. Patou, you be learned in the law! Patou — [Scratching his head,] Umph. Pitou — Let me ask you then. This be the Marquis' land, eh? Patou — It be. Pitou — Good. Trespass is poachin' eh? Patou— It be. Pitou — Good. Then poachin' be stealin'? Patou — Then were we many times thieves, Pitou. Pitou — Go, hold your tongue. A thief can be belabored without fear of jail. Pitou — When the thief can be bagged. Pitou— That's the law. Patou — Aye, that be it. Pitou — Well said. Now conies the conclusion of the law. This Monsieur Jaques, this fine feathered gamecock comes upon the Mar- quis' land unbid. So be he trespasser. P'rom that he goes to poacher, and from poacher he goes to thief [Counts on his fingers. ] Therefore, Patou, dear Patou cudgel him well, crack his pate, as he did warm you poor brother's. [Tries to push Patou in the lead who resists,] Patou — Would you stand safe in the eye of the law? [Pitou nods.] Then go you before. Besides, you be my elder brother, the law agin puts vou before. My arm '11 grow strongish if you go before. Ha, [bares his arm] let me at him. There be old scores to pay. Here's for poisoning the Marquis' pi,s:s. [Cudgels the air.] Pitou — Well said, well done. He durst not 'scape our wengence. By yon brook, see, hard by the bridge we'll lay for him. Patou — I'll eat him raw, but go you before, brother, I'll stick to your heels. [Rxeunt mock heroic] SCENE HI. Scene. — [On the banks of a stream running between the two proper- ties. A stone bridge spans the brook, in the center of which is a large iron gate with a huge padlock. Pond lillies growing in the water in great profusion but entirely on the Stubborn side, grassy banks and trees and knolls in the back ground.] 10 Charles — [Enters in meditative mood.] What a mercenary crea- ture to sell herself. — It is a matter of bargain and sale#— A paragon of beauty — Umph! M3- father is so immeised in his schemes to con- nect the'Stubborns with this noble house that he thinks too much of Montmorenc}' and not enough of the wife. He is a prejudiced wit- ness. If I could see the lady first, in ten nnnutes I should be able to make up mv mind on the evidence. — INIy beautiful unknown of Nice, [sigfis] pshaw, that's only a dream. He must permit me to see her, if iie denies me that, I refuse absolutely to marry this Claire de Montmorency. [Claire is heard singing in the distance, it attracts Charles' attention. He listens for a moment.] Hum, the gardener's daughter; I suppose the belle of the village; a cultivated voice, sureh-. [Sighs ] But I am in no mood for a flirtation. Adieu pretty singer, lull me to sleep. [Throws himself behind a tree out of sight of Claire.] Claire — [Enters swinging a large garden hat by the strings. She is upon the farther bank and looks down upon the water lillies.] Always, always, you will love me. Tender, true and noble be, Though a moment I have known you, Now ni}- heart 's in ecstac}-. Oh, one, two, three of these buds have opened; what a delicious per- fume. Oh, oh, oh, how I would like some of them. Why not? The stream belongs to papa just as much as it does to that odious old Stubborn. Charles — [Aside.] What's that, old Stubborn; papa! Can this be the girl I'm to marry? What is she about to do, I wonder? Claire — [Seating herself on a stump and removes her shoes and stockings.] Now, Mr. John Stubborn and all your family, if 3-0U have any, I give you fair warning that one of your lillies is on the Montmorency side of this stream, not much, it is true, but a little and I intend to remove the intruder. You won't al- low anv trespassing and we won't allow any trespassivg. You shoot our rabbits when they stra}- among your cal)bage beds and I shall pluck all your water lillies that stray beyond the middle of the stream. It is not necessary ]Mr. John Stubborn to write threatening letters and to summon parish officeis. I shall remove the trespassing flower at once with my own hands. Now you have been fairh- warned and I shall proceed. [Steps daintiU' into the stream.] Oh, oh. how cold the water is; what was that I stepped on; there must be snakes in the stream; oh, it's deeper. There goes my hat floating down! What a reckless creature I am! But I must have that lily! [Tries to get one.] Dear me, I can't reach it. What shall I do! If I only had a pole; I'll get the gardener's rake! Hurrah, old Stub- born, I'll beat you yet! [Claire having emerged from the stream picks up her shoes and stockings and exits.] Charles — [Emerging to view.] A girl of spirit, upon my soul, and beautiful as an houri. What a pretty foot and delicate ankle! W^hat has become of her? There she goes, running like a deer at the top of her speed; why she is already at the turn of the road; at the garden- er's lodge; she's gone. Will she come back? Here she is again drag- iiig a monster rake. I'm watching you my water sprite, 1113- fair nymph ; pilferer of water lillies; she comes. [Retires behind the tree.] Claire — [Having donned her shoes she comes in with a long gar- dener's rake.] What a run, I'm almost («ut of breath! Now I shall 11 see Mr. John Stubborn, if this trespasser can't be removed. [Oper- ates with her rake.] How heavy this rake seems, how awkarcl I am. I must get hold of the long stock and pull hard. There now I've got him. He doesn't want to come, but come he shall! No resist- ance to the law. Triumph, he comes! Dear water lily you are mine. [Presses it to her lips.] How beautiful, but I nuist have another. The large ones all grow on the Stubborn side; everything seems to be going their way [sighs] and against poor papa. Once more I invoke theassistauf e of the law, dear me this rake is so heavy. [Operates with the rake and hums.] Charles — [Conies forward holding her hat behind his back.] Ahem, young lady. Claire — [Looks up. screams, drops her rake, turns to run away.] Oh, there goes my rake, 3^ou startled me. Charles — Pardon me if I did. I had no desire to frighten you, I ony wish to call your attention to the fact that the lily you were appropriating is altogether on the Stubborn side of the stream and cannot be said to have trespassed. Claire — I deny that. It is plainly on our side. Charles — On our side, then you are a Montmorenc}'? Claire — I am. Charles — And 3-ou claim as yours all things on 3'our side? Claire — Papa has told me that is the law. Charles — Then this sun bonnet [showing it] which in some mys- terious wa}' found itself on the Stubborn side must belong to the Stubborns? Claire — Oh, that's my hat .>-'ir, give it to me. Charles — Excuse me if I hesitate. Let me see, you have a water lily which, it seems to me, did not grow on your side. Claire— It was on your side originallv perhaps, but as its stock pro- longed itself it became possessed of a vagrant humor and wandered away from safety. It trespassed and I seized it. I am sure that is the law, papa has explained it to me time and -^gain. Charles — According to that logic this hat is forfeited to the Stub- borns. Claire — [Quickly.] By no means, that was an accident. My hat fell into the water when I was [stops confused, their eyes meet and both laugh.] Charles — Suppose we compromise. I will return the hat, if you will return the lily. Claire — Return what 3'ou have unconditionalh-. Wh}- do you want this sweet flower? Charles — I have a passion for water lillies. Besides it has gained a priceless value in my eyes since it has l)een plucked b}- you. Claire — A pretty compliment I niu.st confess. [Bows with mock politeness.] But, sir, suppose I feel inclined to make the exchange how do I know that you have a right to take it? Charles — Have no doubt on that point, I am Charles vStubborn. Claire — What, the son of old vStubborn? Charles — Yes, I am young Stubborn. Claire — Is it possible, the Stubborns pay compliments! I thought gallantry was a plant unknown on your grounds. Charles — It is yoUr benign influence, everything springs into flower where you come! Claire — [Curtesies.] After such a poetic burst of sentiment I shall have no hesitation in asking for my own. 12 Charles — [Swinging hat.] The bonnet is too light to throw across, it will fall into the water again. • Claire— And the gate is locked, how annoying. Perhaps you have the key. Charles — The key? Claire — I almost doubt that you can be Charles Stubborn. There is the gate on the bridge, doubly locked and padlocked, put there by your father. Charles — Where is the bridge? Claire — Have you no eyes? Charles— Only for the beautiful, Mile. In my eyes that is a very ugly looking gate and a still more ugly padlock. What a size! It looks as if it belonged to the Bastile. If I can influence my father it shall be removed. Claire — [Seriously.] My efforts shall not be wanting with mine. Ah, sir, cannot we do something to make two worthy old gentlemen on better terms with each other? Can't we put a stop to those wretched law suits which are as vexatious to the one who wins as to the one who loses? I am my father's confidante, and I can assure you, Mr. Stubborn we are really inclined to live on peaceful terms with your father whose eminence as a promoter of industrial enter- prise we fully recognize. Charles — Thank you in behalf of my father. I have permission have I not, to clear th's abominable gate? [Jumps over the gate.] Permit me to restore some of your property that became possessed of vagrant humor. [They laugh.] Claire — [Hangs her head in confusion.] The sun affects ni}' eyes. Charles — Now that I see you plainly, you remind me of a young lad}^ I once met at Nice, and who left an impression on ni)' mind wdiich haunts me like a dream; a dream more to me than the most dazzling reality. Claire — [Timidly.] I recognized you some moments ago. You are the gentleman who assisted me to remount when mv horse stum- bled. Charles — Can it be you indeed! How extraordinary, these meetings and partings which chance arranges! That was not the first time I saw you. One day I was walking in the woods and had reached a shaded avenue. I stopped to admire an old oak whose trunk and branches were matted with ivy, when I heard the beating of horses' hoofs. I turned to see a young lad}' in black riding habit. I stood rooted to the spot following her with my e3es. That was the first time I saw 3'ou. Claire — I remember to have remarked that tree. Charles — I came to that place at the same hour day after day in the hope of again seeing the fair unknown. At last that hope was real- ized. Like a meteor 3'cu flashed b}- in a mad gallop, 3'our eyes sparkling with pleasure, 3'our whole frame quivering with excitement. Just as you passed that tree your horse stumbled. Claire — And you kiudh- caught m3' Bess and helped me into the saddle. Charles — Then with a smile you were off and I saw 3'Ou no more until tc-da3'. But I kept a memento of the occasion for your Marabout feather dropped from your hat and I have preserved it among m3' dearest possessions. Claire — Dear me, I mUvSt contest your right to that for the law of trespass surel3- cannot apph- in this case. v\ Charles — No, but the law of treasiir- Itove ])ears direct!}- upon it. Have I your permission to bring it to iviontniorency? [Enter Servant.] Servant — [Interrupting, touches his hat to Claire.] Mademoiselle, INIadame de Polignac requests you to walk with her on the terrace. Claire — Tell her I will be there immediatel}^ [Exit .servant.] Charles — May I offer my arm? Claire — No, no, no, no, my aunt the Counteis would be dreadfully shocked. I do not know what she would say if she knew about this afternoon's proceedings. Charles — Do you mean about Claire — I do not know you well enough to discuss this subject, but I must tell you Mr. Stubborn for fear that you may conceive erron- eous impressions of me, that I believe it to be no wrong for a 3'oung girl to exchange a few words with a young man, even when her par- ents are not present and when no duenna is near by to play propriety. I understand that in America young women are benefitted by an ab- sence of the restraints which surround us in France — oh, here comes my Aunt! [Enter Polignac] Polignac — [Savereh-.] Claire, can I believe lU}- eyes? Are you ac- tualh' conversing with a young man? [Claire and Charles embar- rassed.] What is the meaning of this silence? I demand an answer. Who is this young man to whom you were talking so earnestly when I turned the corner? Claire — Really aunt, he is a perfect stranger. Poliguac — A perfect .stranger! France, P^rance, what are we com- ing to! I find my niece, a Montmorency, in conversation with a man and when I ask his name, she tells me he is a perfect stranger to her. Perhaps sir, you will be good enough to explain who 3'ou are. What is your name? Charles — My name is Charles [stops short as Claire makes signs of negation.] Polignac — Charles, Charles what? Claire. I am suffering from neu- ralgia and I do not hear distinctly. What did he sav his name was, Charles ? Claire — I didn't hear it distinctly myself, but it sounded English. Polignac— You are from England, young man? Charles — I landed in France only three days ago, Madame. Polignac — But you have Frencli connections, you came to visit some one? Charles — I am on a visit to Mr. Stubborn. Polignac — [Indignant.] vStubborn! [She quickly draws Claire aside and talks to her, then turns to Charles.] Mr. Englishman whose name I did not catch, I understand this matter tolerably well. You do not know the state of things here. We are at war with the proprietor of Maison Blanche, who is the most Charles — Stop Madame, do not I beg you speak ill of the gentle- man whose guest I have the honor to be. Claire — [Comes forward.] It is right of him aunt to defend Mr. Stubborn, and we must say nothing disrespectful in his presence. Polignac — Claire, it is hiiJ^bly improper for you to come forward when I requested you to step aside and not associate with this person. Claire — [Angrily.] I am not associated with this gentleman. Am I to be schooled and scolded simply because my hat blew off and fell into the water and was rescued? [Tc> Charles] I hope that I have 14 said nothing in your hearing [with enipha.sis] which could have of- fended you and if I have, accept — Charles — Not another word, Mile., on my honor I heard nothing you could wish I had not heard and [with emphasis] I saw nothing you could wish I had not seen. [Both Claire and Charles embarrased, Polignac looks suspicioush' from one to another.] Polignac — Claire, your conduct is simply barbarous. There is some- thing in all this I do not understaKd. However, Mr. Englishman, one thing is clear, you are an intruder upon these premises. Should you meet this young lady again do not speak to hsr under any cir- cumstance. Claire — Aunt, I will not suffer this insult. Sir, when 30U meet me again, you will undertand that I give you the right to speak to me if it be your pleasure. Polignac — Claire, this is too nuich. This is actually an invitation to develop a chance meeting into a positive accjuaintance. I forbid it, sir. Never speak to this lady whenever or wherever you meet her. You smile sir. I amuse you sir. But we shall see. I shall acquaint my brother, the Marquis of your extraordinary behavior and he will demand an explanation sir, of your conduct, sir. [Exit with Claire.] Charles— Adieu Mile, adieu ]Madame. Claire — [Turns in spite of her aunt.] An revoir, sir. [Exit.] Charles— Oh the darling girl^ as full of life as she is innocent, as innocent as she is charming. My father had his proverbial luck when he thought of her, and my dream of Nice becomes an actuality. Claire, it is a prett}' name, and like my own begins with C. I will cut a monogram of two interlaced C's on some tree. There is a birch that looks as if it wished to be the recipent of just such confidence. [Exit.] [Enter Cretin and Catherine.] Cretin — Think twice before 30U act. It is true I encouraged you. Catherine — You fetched me here to become the wife of John Stub- born and you shall not thwart me. Cretin — But mv dear Catherine, you do not know this Stubborn. When Lwent to him a half hour ago and reminded him of his pledge he flew into a passion and swore he would kick us both out of the the house. Thwart him? The height of rashness. We must humor him. That's the way I advanced as steward and confidential agent in his service. Catherine — I am sick at heart of your bungling. All along I half suspected you were building fond hopes out of nothing. I will not be jilted and be made a laughing stock by your stupidity. He shall tell me whether he will marr}- me. Cretin — Caution, my dear sister, 3-ou are so undul}- excited. Patience and caution, trust my old head. Catherine — Patience, patience, oh, to be treated in this shameful manner! [Exeunt Cretin and Catherine expostulating. Enter Charles and John Stubborn on opposite sides of the brook, Charles with his back to his father and face towards Montmorency.] Stubborn — [After watching him a moment.] What are you doing over there? Are v'ou so impatient to set foot on Montmorency that you cannot wait until the gate is down? Charles — W^hy, oh, I beg your pardon father, I fear I have laid my- self open to a charge of trespass;. [Enter Pitou and Patou.] Patou — Hello, what cock sparrow 's this? Pitou — You are not the chap we're huntin' for, but trespassin' is 15 just what you've done young man. Just come along with us. and give us no troul)le, w'e'll hand you over perlitely to the constable. Patou — We seed 3'ou a cuttin' the young trees, didn't we brother, ketched ri^ht in the act doin't. So come along young feller or else we may hurt you. [Twirls cudgel.] Stubborn — Hold on my men, there's some mistake. The gentle- man is my son. Pitou- — He is eh, well all the better, we'd like to get our hands on \()u too, old hedgehog. Charles — [Who has been quietly standing by, rushes at Pitou and knocks him down.] Rascal, you dare insult my father ! Take that, and that. As for you, 3'ou impudent vagabond [turns on Patou who comes to his brother's aid flourishing his cudgel. Charles catches one end of it. They wrestle up and dov\ n. Pinally Charles closes in upon him and pitches him into the brook.] Stubborn — [During the contest dances up and down excitedly.] Hold on there, it's my son. Let him go, let him go I say. Ass, brigand, let go. I'm coming to your help Charles! [Rushes on the bridge.] Where is the key to the gate? I can't find it anywhere! [Fumbles in his pockets.] Damn the key and the one who put the gate here. [Tries to climb over the gate.] Hold on Charles, oh, I can't ever get over. Bravo Charles, in he goes. The Stubborns al- ways come out on top. Charles — [To Pitou who holding his nose advances cautiously on Charles] CoK-ie on if 3'ou want any more. [Puts himself into scien- tific attitude.] Pitou — I don't want any more to do with you. You are a perfes- sional and I'll have the law agin' you ar.d the other one there. He was a aidin' and abettin' you, so he was. Stubborn — Hey, what, I'll have 'em both in jail before sundown. Charles — Pick your comrade out of the stream and be off. Here's salve for your damaged face. [Throws coins bn the grass, Pitou picks them up sullenly and helps Patou -who has been floundering about in the water. Charles vaults the gate and reappears on the vStubborn side.] Stubborn — [Phnbracing him.] My brave boy, my dear Charles you are a Hector, I'm proud of ye; but come, dinner is waiting. Never mind your decision Charles, let's have dinner first and you can have time Charles, more time if you wish, for you are a man antl not a pawn. Charles — But I don't want more time, I'll marry the young lady whenever you please. vStubborn — [Overjoyed.] No — what — Charles, do you mean it? Really? Why this is the happiest day of my life. [Curtain.] 16 ACT II. Scene — [Music room in Chateau de Montmorency.^ Time, after dinner of the same da}-, wax candles burning in the candelabras. A log is burning on the hearth.] Catherine — Madame will you prevent this marriage? Polignac — The news you bring quite overcomes me. The articles of marriage you say, have been drawn this very day? I see it all, the Knglishman I met was the son. Catherine — My brother concluded the arrangements with the Mar- quis, not an hour ago. Polignac — Oh, this is infamous? Where was your famih- pride, 3^our honor, Henri, to sacrifice your daughter in this w^ay ? Catherine— He promised to marry me but now [Weeps.] Polignac — Who was to marr}- you, the son? Catherine — No, the father. Polignac — Then Stubborn has marriage on the brain! Catherine — I came especially to Maison Blanche to marry him. But this grand alliance with your niece has r-obbed me of him. Polignac — Oh, Henri, Henri, not a word of this to me! If I know my niece she will not stoop so low as to espouse this gardener's son, but the mortgages, we shall lose Montmorenc}-. Catherine — Alas alas, I fear he is lost to me. Polignac — [Aside.] A grand alliance. What difference to them whether the father or the son marries? Claire must not marr}' the son. I will offer myself as the sacrifice for Henri's sins, and preserve the name of Montmorency from the disgrace of a misalliance. [To Catherine.] You say that the Stubborns will be here to-morrow% believe me, they shall not have nu^ niece. Catherine — Heaven bless yon Madame. Polignac— I seethe Marquis coming. Await me in my apartments to-morrow. Catherine — Yon have made me so happ}'. [Presses the hand of the Countess to her lips, exit.] Polignac — You repose no confidence in your sister, Henri, she will show her devotion to your daughter nevertheless. [Enter Marquis, Marlin, Claire resting on her father's arm. All in good spirits and laughing.] Claire — A capital story, papa. [To Marlin.] Poor fellow, jilted when he thought he was most favored [they laugh.] Marlin — When I was a student at the university, as I remember it now, a bright young creature treated my chum almost as shockingly. [To Polignac] Madame, I am charmed to see you looking so well. I have with me F'riar Anglico's "Saints' Redemption," which you re- quested. Polignac — Thank you. Abbe, how thoughtful of you, there are pas- sages in the sainted work I would have you read to me, especially the exhortation to wayward sinners, [looks hard at the Marquis.] You know, Abbe, this is the evening set aside for discussing means of relieving the worthy poor of the parish. Marlin — True, true, it had almost slipped my memor}-. Yen are kind to remii.d me, [rapidly turns leaves of book] ah, here it is, chapter four — no, chapter five, [runs his finger down the pages] to which I wish to call your attention. Madame. Marquis — By the by, who was that charming creature I caught a glimpse of just now? Polignac — That. Henri, is a most estimable young woman of the neighborhood, does she please your fancy? 17 Marquis — I assure you I have no interest in her. [Sinks into aim chair beside the fire and smokes.] Marlin— Oh, here it is at last Madame, beginning with the fourth line from the top of page three hundred, [reads] "true repentance con- sists in aV)solving one's self" — Polignac — [Aside.] Impious man, he is not going to inform me of his dastardly crime. [Aloud.] Come, Abbe, you sliall sit heie where the light is stronger. [Polignac and Marlin seat themselves at table at one side.] It will soothe nn' nerves to hear the blesFcd words. Claire — [Who has seated herself at the piano hums and plays dreamily] Always, alwa} s, you will love me. Tender, true and noble be. Though a moment I have known you. Now my heart's in ecstacy. Marquis — Claire, my child, do not strum so. Come and join me. [Claire leaves piano and stands in front of the fireplace meditatively tapping her foot on the fender. Marquis rouses himself from his reverie tossing his cigarette into the fire.] Wh}^ Claire, what a co- quettish slipper, what a lovely silk, and what a pretty foot. Claire — [Dreamily.] Do you think so, papa? Marquis — M}^ dear, I never saw one so small nor one so perfect in form. Claire — [Rousing herself. ] And yet if all tales be true, rxy papa has great experience in such matters. Marquis — All tales are not true, and my experience has been much less than the kind world gives me credit for. Claire— Now, truthfully, will this foot compare with a ballet girl's, for instance? Marquis — Comparisons are proverbially odious. My child, your foot is perfection, Claire — [Playfull}-.] I know someone who could give an opin- ion on this important subject, someone who saw it very plainly indeed. Marquis — Happy man, who was he? Claire — Someone who saw it uncovered, and to-day, moreover. Marquis — Why who could have been the happy mortal? Un- covered you say? Claire — [Raising her voice perceptibly.] Bare, papa. Polignac — [Who has been dividing her attention between Marlin and Claire.] Claire did you actually say, bare? You must be more conventional in your language, you really must, or I don't know what people will think of you. [Aside.] What can he be saying to her? Marlin — It is indeed, a word not commonly used in polite society. Marqu's— She was asking me, Mathilde, if Spanish ladies rode bareback. Polignac — [Aside.] Is he speaking the truth? [Aloud.] Never use such an expression, Claire, it smells of circus equestrianism. Say unsaddled, or without siddle. These thint.s are more important than one can. realize. [Marlin nods assent.] Ma'-quis — You have not told me yet who it waa that saw my dar- ling's foot unsaddled. Claire — Guess. But you couldn't if I gave you a hundred chances. Just fancy, it was no less a person than the son of the ogre of Maison Blanche. I was appropriating water lillies — Marquis — [Rousing himself.] Ah, so, what did he say? 18 Claire-He came upon me while I was operating with a rake, hav- ing rescued my hat which fell into the water. Marquis — That was very gentlemanly. • Claire — Oh he behaved charmingly. No Marquis could have been more gallant. Marquis — [Aside.] Peste, things are looking favorable foi our little arrangement. [Aloud.] He was deferential, was he. Claire — Ver}-, and at the same time he talked nonsense charm- Marquis — And did my sensible American girl talk nonsense too? Claire — I believe I did. But I talked sense as well. I said I hoped that he would join me in endeavoring to make our respective parents on more friendly terms. Marquis — Did you say that ? Now, the fact is I made overtures this very day to Mr. Stubborn, and he met them in a most friendly spirit. I saw your Phoenix too, but only for a moment, and by the wa}^ they are coming here in a day or two. Claire — [Thoughtfully] Are they ? This is news indeed. ButNou mustn't call him my Phrenix, for you saw him apparently before I did. Pray, why do you call him my Phoenix ? Marquis — Well, I don't know really why I give him that title ; but the truth is, he is a ver}' remarkable young man. His father has given him great advantages and he has made the best of them. He was brought up in Iviglish schools and has since studied law with great success. I haven't the least doubt, a brilliant career is before him. The law, you know, is now the high road to fame. Claire — Dear me, papa, 3'ou talk as if you thought he would become chief justice or president of France some day. Marquis — I haven't the slightest doubt of that, my dear. All the special pleaders speak well of him because he is more than talented and eloquent. He is imbued with lofty thoughts and is influenced by high motives. He has a sense of justice which few great men possess nowadays. Claire — Wh}-, really, I saw nothing special about him, and what you say is quite surprising. Marquis — He struck me as a remarkable young man. The father with his millions has picked up a veneer of polish, but his native coarseness is eternally cropping out. But the son is trul}- a genlle- man. The fact is, that auburn-haired fellow with his little English ways has a heart of gold and a brilliant future. Perhaps if you con- versed seriously with young Charles Stubborn you will find him a marked ^Tfception to the young men of to-day. Claire — [Looking fixedh- at her father.] In walking in the path bordered with sweet briar I have stepped on nettles. Marquis — [Uneasily.] What are you murmuring, Claire? Claire — You praise this young man as if 3-ou proposed him for a suitor. Marquis — Why, that is an idea, to be sure; a little strange, isn't it, but take it for what it is worth. Have you any prejudices ? I haven't any. A great philosopher with whom I enjoy agreeable con- troversies told me the other day, "One hears the tramp of wooden shoes going up the palace stairs atul the patter of polished boots coming down." Nothing is truer. Those people are going up in the world and we are coming down. Oid France has not the vigor to survive ; her nobility must intermarr}- with the new France. If we are on our guard, my dear, we can ward off the disaster. Claire — Is it part of your scheme that I shall marry your Phoenix? 19 I insist, sir, upon being told the whole of this. What are youi" intentions? what do yoit propose to do with nie ? Marquis — My darling girl, do not grow so angry. Certainly a little offhand pleasantry should not be taken seriously. Now speaking of ihis Phoenix Polignac — What are you two people (luarreling about? I can see that Claire is talking nuich too loud for a well-bred gentlewoman. But how am I to have much effect upon you, Claire, if your father instead of assunnng the authorit\- of a parent takes the gentle coaxing vein of an elder brother. Marqui.s — There, theie, Mathilde, you are altogether too severe. Your interruptions I can see by the face of Abbe Marlin are not at all appreciated, for he is reading a very interesting sermon for your benefit. Marlin — Oh, Marquis, I could wish for no more attentive auditor than 3-our worthy sister. Polignac — Brother, your remark is wholly gratuitous and a reflec- tion upon me. Marlin — No, no, Madame, I assure you — only a bon mot of the Marquis, ha, ha. [Polignac resumes the reading and conversation in dumb show.] Claire — Once for all, are 30U serious, or are you jc>king? Marquis — F/n, certainly I'm joking. However, one ought to be brave enough to express his convictions. My honest opinion is that this fine fellow is an admirable catch for anv woman. Claire — For a Montmorency? Mnrquis — Assuredl3\ Claire — You don't say a word about misalliance. Marquis — There isn't any. The millions of old Stubborn bury that. I know^ he intends on the marriage of his son to give him several. Claire — I am sufficiently prejudiced to believe that the millions of John Stubborn are not necessary for my happiness. Marquis — Bah, that is good enough to say. The happiness of women is so complex and so expensive. Now, suppose, I were in earnest — just suppose, of course — and desired you to marry him; now what would be your answer? Claire — That a Montmorency was not born to marry a Stubborn. Polignac — [Comes forward with Marlin.] I am sure she men- tioned the name of Stubborn. Henri, you have forgotten to teach her that there are expressions one should not use under any circum- stance. Marlin — Stubborn, John Stubborn, a man who never appears at mass. A strange character, I don't know what to make of him, and yet charitable. Only yesteraay he sent me one hundred francs for the poor of the parish. For all that, he is not the man to mj- liking, boorish and egotistical. Claire — I told my father that John Stubborn is an abominable man and that his son is no better. Polignac — A son ; has he a son ? [To Marlin] If that man has a son, what are we coming to? To think that those wretches possess to-day the fields which belong to Montmorency. Where are they going to stop? They aspire, no doubt, to reside in the Chateau de Montmorency, to eat from the plate of the Montmorency. [Aside] Will he not yet confess to me? Marquis — [Aside.] Heaven be prai.sed, she is still in the dark. Marlin — Their ambition it would seem knows no bounds. But, Madame, you desired to consult the parish rci^ister, did you not? Some twenty deserving poor liave already applied. « Polignac — Oh, thank j^ou, Alibe. [They look over the parish register.] Claire — The Stubborns evidently have had the effronter}- to make this proposition to you ? Did you have the weakness to accept it ? Marquis — Yes, but conditionally. Claire — Infamous ! Marquis — It was all your fault. That rascal saw you one day and you made an indelible impression on him. He lost his head and dreamt about you and finished the business by confessing to me that he was dj-ing to marry you. I told him no — a very emphatic no. " Ah, well," said he, "if she will not be my wife she will at least be my daughter-in-law. ' ' [Chuckles. ] Claire — Don't laugh. I am not in a mood to appreciate 3-our peculiar vein of humor. I am sure this man has some claim on you. Marquis — Must I confess — the rights of a creditor over a debtor. Claire — Is there a law which gives a creditor the authority to la}- hands on the daughter of his debtor ? Is there another law which legalizes a debtor to deliver his daughter without her consent ? Somewhere I've read that the ancients sacrificed their daughters to a monster called the Minotaur. Like them, father, you have sold me to this modern Minotaur. [She dashes to pieces a vase which she holds in her hand.] Polignac — Mercy, what's the matter? [Polignac and Marlin come forward.] Marquis — Nothing at all. It's the weather ; she's nervous. Polignac — Nervous? wh}', she's not yet twenty. I feel somehow her action is connected with those odious Stubborns. If your father has in an}- way espoused the cause of these miscreanCs, you are right, my chikl, in resenting it. I understand something of this matter. Marquis — [Aside] Does she suspect ? [Aloud.] My dear rvlathilde, how can you say anything like that? Polignac — [Aside.] Oh, the weakness and cowardice of men. [Aloud.] Henri, you do not know what sacrifices I am about to make for your sake. Claire, my brave child [kisses her, which is silently returned], you are indeed a Montmorency. Come, Abbe, let us pay a visit to the old butler. ]\Iarlin — Good night, daughter, you shall tell me all your troubles to-morrow. I fear she is not well [to Marquis]. You need the air of Nice, my child. Good night. [Marquis escorts Polignac and Marlin to the door. He then returns to Claire.] Marquis — Calm yourself, my own sweet Claire ; calm yourself Claire — [Recovering herseif, but with a sob in her voice.] I am calm now, papa, but tell me everything. I am sure that of yourself you would plot nothing against me. But do not assist others in their conspiracy. Tell me all. Do not be afraid. It was not the danger it was the surprise and the pain of finding you against me that un- nerved me. But, papa, are we ruined? [He ntjds assent.] Well, what do I care for that. Men are so afraid to tell women of their misfortunes. The world will blame you, papa, but your daughter will never. With all your faults, you have been a loving father to me and have made tne womanly. Marquis — The hope of settling you advantageously in life weighed more with me than you can believe. Claire — I am sure you were jilanning for my happiness. 21 ]\Iarquis — Well, so I consented ; that is all. Claire— No, no, there is more to this or von wonld not be so agi- tated. ' "^ Marqnis — My consent was snbject to yonr approval ; oh, I made that a condition. Claire — Then tlie matter is only a proposal. There is no aj^ree- njent, is there ? Mar(|uis — Well, Stul)horn did scratcli off some sort of a contract, which 1 signed, bnt I cannot say that I read it, at least not carefnlly.' He had so badgered me that I was in a sort of a daze and would have done anything he told me provided I could have escaped with ni}' life. Claire— Poor papa, dear papa, let me see the agreement. Marquis— [Gasping.] Would, would that be right, Claire? wouldn't it be a breach of confidence? Claire — Not at all. And even if it were, who is the more entitled to your confidence, that old ogre of ]\Iaison Blanche or your own daughter who loves you [both arms around his neck]. I must see the agreement. Papa, dear, let me see the agreement. Marquis — There, there, you shall see it. [Takes out his pocket book, fumbles in the papers, adjusts his eye glass, examines one or two.] Look at that, my child. I believe that is the contract, isn't it? [She nods.] I feel fatigued. [He s ts down in his old seat b}^ the fireplace, [Claire reads the paper,] Claire — [With an exclamation of surprise and pain.] Why, it's signed by him ; it's signed by him ! [The paper falls from her fingers.] Marquis — Of course, my dear. Stubborn and I both signed it. Claire — I mean Charles Stubborn. Marquis — Only as a witness. Claire — But he knows all about this agreement ? Marquis — Who can tell ? He may be as deep in the scheme as his villainous father. Claire — [Hoarsely.] Do you think so? Marquis — The Stubborns do not appreciate 3^our delicate views, I assure you. Since you refuse this proposition I am resolved to be guided by you entirely. I have educated you to think for vourself, my American girl, and as your happiness is at stake — well, we must sell Montmorency. [Sighs.] Claire — Sell Montmorency, my dear Moutmorency; that will be our shame, that will be our disgrace. Marquis — Ah, my dear, we must choose. If these old walls are indispensible to your happiness, resign yourself to become the wdfe of this young man. Claire — Never. Marquis — I also say, never. We .shall sell Montmorency. I shall not have a care in the world. You will have a comfortable home with your uncle. As for me. I don't mind what becomes of me — don't be alarmed that I will ptit a bullet through ni\' heart — I am going to hire out to some American showman who will display to his coun- trymen the face, the back, and in profile, the last of the Montmo- rency. Claire — Stop, you pain me. [Goes to table and takes candle, pre- paratory to retiring.] Marqtiis — Claire, my darling, are yon despondent? Come, you have not kissed me good night. After all, it is my fault that we are beggars, but how can I regain your good will — how can we escape 22 from the clutches of these robbers? Ah, an inspiration-»it will give us a respite at least and may prove our deliverance. Listen, accord- ing to the terms of the agreement with John Stubborn, if the marriage is broken through some cause for which we are not responsible — as if, for instance, his son should reject you — I have four years in which to discharge my mortgage obligation. In four years I can lind means to pay it Not to marry that exceptionally fine young man — not to sell Montmorency will be happiness indeed ! If you can disgust this Nestor of a lawyer, this remarkable Phcenix. this mirror of chivalry — if you can bring it about that he shall refuse you — I know it is so hard, you are so pretty, but can't j-ou invent some way? You .re one of Eve's daughters ; if you are not artful, what's the use of being a woman ? [Claire sighs.] Cheer up, my darling. Light is breaking in on our misery. You can dispel the clouds entirely. Where are your resolutions to meet this situa- tion bravely ? I feel as if a great load has been lifted off my should- ers. Yes, you shall do it, you shall make him refuse you and break this odious bond. Capital idea. Here are two kisses for the inspira- tion. Good night, my darling, good night. Remember, it all rests with you to save our honor and our estates. [Exit.] Claire — [Who has sunk into an armchair, finally arouses herself from her stupor, her eyes wander slowly about the room until they fall upon the marriage contract on the floor. She picks it up, reads the document again, and then with an effort repeats the name of Charles Stubborn; she falls back sobbing into the chair.] Charles Stubborn ! [Curtain.] 23 ACT III. Scene — [Evening. A grand salon in Chatean de MonUnorency, brilliantly illuminated. Doors leading to conservatory, library and picture gallery. A window overlooks gardtn. Marquis is speaking to Charles in dumb show. John Stubborn eagerly looking out of window to garden. He interrupts them.] Stubborn — Once upon a time a pear tree grew in that garden. I can almost see it now and a fine tree it was too. I was then a strip- ling of sixteen. Very proud to be in the service of the Marquis de Montmorency. I do not wish to speak ill of 3'our father, but he had a hobby. He thought he understood horticulture, but he didn't know the first principles. He insisted Ihat the shears were better than the pruning knife. It is false, absolutely false. Any fool could have told him better. Well, I was bus}- one day trimming that pear tree. Your father came to where I was working and watched me for a moment. Then he called me an ass and swore that I was destroy- ing his pear tree. Now why f.hou.d I want to destroy it? I never had a spite against the tree. He became angry and then, and then — are you listening ? he was here, I was there — then raising his foot he sent me flying head first against that tree. [Laughs.] What would your father tliink when he administered his correction, that forty years afterwards my son would marry his granddaughter. Marquis — If he had foreseen that a kick would one day have such happy consec|uences for his family, I am sure he would have doubled the dose. — I have some business to transact with your. father who understands so thoroughly the'pruning of fruit trees. My daughter is somewhere in the conservatory; she will be charmed to meet 3'ou. Charles — An infinite pleasure, I assure you. [Exit.] Stubborn — Eh, aren't you going to introduce them? where is your daughter ? Marquis — It is unnecessary; yesterday the young people became acquainted without our aid. Stubborn — You don't say so — the sly dog — not a word to me — the young rascal. ' But, Marquis, that kick was the making of me. That very night I set out for Paris. I swore that some day Montmo- rency should be mine. [Laughs boisterously.] Marquis — [Taking his arm.] Come, what do you say to a peaceful cigar in the garden? Stubborn — The very thing. [About to go when Polignac meets them.] Polignac — Mr. John Stubborn, I presume. A man so eminently prominent for financial ability that I esteem it a pleasure to form your personal acquaintance, sir. Marquis — [Astonished.] Allow me to introduce you, Mr. Stub- born, Countess de Polignac. vStubborn — Madame, the pleasure of meeting you fully repays my visit to Montmorency. Your name is not altogether unfamiliar. Polignac — I looked forward to meet ng you, sir, with the greatest delight. There, I said to myself, our estimable neighbor will at last honor us with his presence. [Makes sign to Marquis to leave them.] Marquis— [Tugs at her dress.] For the life of me what are you up to? Stubborn — [Aside.] Charming woman; these people of rank are decidedly wellbred, and she 's a Countess. Polignac — I am sure the Marquis can spare you a half hour, can't you Henri? [Takes arm of vStubboni and goes out, laughing to Marquis.] 24 Marquis — [Amazed.] To think that of her, of all women under the sun, she who prides herself on family and deportments To enter- tain that dog, my enemy. [Moves after them as far as the door.] Can I believe my eyes, she hangs on his arm, she whispers in his ear — what damnable jugglery is this! [Turns around and sees Cather- ine who has just entered ] Catherine — Oh, sir, is he here? Bring me to him. Where can I find him. I must speak to him. Marquis — What you too; are these women mad! Come, I'll have this riddle solved. [Cirasps Catherine by the arm and rushes out after Stubborn and Polignac] [Knter Stubborn and Polignac from the gallery.] Polignac — Since you love flowers, let me place in your buttonhole one of these orchids. Stubborn — Thank you, Madame, I shall esteem this little blossom as a pledge of your approval of the match between my boy ami your niece. Polignac — [Coldly.] Claire is too young to entertain matrimony and your son does not appear nuich ohler. vStubborn — Why Madame, my son Chailes is twenty-four. Polignac — But you yourself are still in your prime and may marry again, I wonder you have not thought of that Mr. Stubborn. Stubborn — No Madame. Once is enough I assure you. Polignac — But in the evening of life when the faculties decay what can be more agreeable [looking at him with great tenderness] linn the assiduous attention, and fond attachment of an affectionate wife? Stubborn — It sounds well Madame, but you can get mere down- right attention from a nurse who knows her business than from the tenderest wife. I don't believe in love and tenderne.'^s, you see. Polignac — Is that the way the practical men of business weigh in the balance the most sacred bonds of the affection ? Mu.-,t they value ever3-thing in a commercial sense? Nevertheless there is something to admire in such rugged, manly characters as yours, that one cannot but respect the ring of the true metal. Do you know, sir, that I am surfeited with the empty honors of nobility. If I onlv had for a hus- band a man for instance, whose titles were won b}- his own evertion like yours. I should consider myself the happiest mortil in existence. [Sighs.] I hope I am conducting myself with propriety-. [Aside.] Stubborn — [Aside.] Well I'm blessed if she isn't making love and a Countess in the bargain. You do me too much honor Madame — Polignac — You hesitate sir? Stubborn — Madame, my ambition is to connect my name with your family and that hope is about to be realized by the mirriage of my son to your neice. Polignac— But if she should refuse. Stubborn— Refuse! Polignac— No, no, I don't mean that, still you know that voung girls are so headstrong. They do not often see what is to their best interests. Claiie is especially self-willed. Should she oppose this match, nothing can move her. If, however, an alliance with our house could be consummated through other channels, in a short time her objections to your son might be overcome. But at present I fear, Mr. Charles will receive scant encouragement. Stubborn— Don't say that. It can't be so. I have set my heart on this marriage and if I move Heaven and earth it shall take place. Polignac — Your vehemence frightens me. [Aside.] Should ni}' plan miscarry. [Rxeunt!] [Enter Marquis and Catherine.] Marquis --Hum, so he promised to marry you, the rascal, and de- ceives you, and Madame de Poli^nac is pleading vour cause, well she has taken a strange way of doing you that service. Poor child, I pity you from the bottom of my heart. But why must it be the old Stubborn. If 1 were a real pretty woman like yourself I would fancy the son. Catherine — Sir? Marquis — Oh, of course, of course, I merely suggest, you kuow, that if you have any claim on the son I would be of great assist- ance to you. Catherine — Why should I not marry John Stubl^orn ? Marquis — Vou may as well count on the stars falling to earth as becoming his wife in the event of a marriage into my family. Can't you see he has used Cretin for a tool and is plaving you false. Come now, aid me in preventing his designs on niy happi- ness. Denounce Charles vStubborn openly as your husband— as vour lover. Catherine — That would be madness. I never saw him before to-day. Marquis— What does that matter? vSince vStubborn has tricked you so shamefully, why not crush the dearest wish of his heart ? That would be sweet revenge. Catherine— Don't tempt me, I will not listen. I can prove nothing against Charles. Why should I ruin myself and my brother to gratify you ? Marquis — T will pay you handsomely. Catherine — No, no, I won't listen. Marquis — Ten thousand francs. Catherine — No, no, don't tempt me. Marquis — Twenty thousand. Catherine — No, I tell 3'ou no! Marquis — Fool, see, Polignac plays her cards much better ! [Enter Stubborn from garden. Polignac leans affectionately on his arm; they catch sight of Catherine and become excited] Stubborn — [Aside] Here's a pretty mess. Polignac — [Aside] That vixen must not cross mv path. [To Stubborn] John, shall we retire to the conservatory? Stubborn — By all means, it's too warm here. [Exeunt.] Catherine — [Enraged, tries to follow ther>i.] Mr, Stubborn, Mr. Stubborn, husband! Madame, where are you going wiih my husband ? Marquis — [Catches her by the arm.] Woman, will you believe me now? Listen to reason; revenge yourself by denouncing the son. Remember, twenty thousand francs, twenty thousand francs. Catherine — Unhand me, let me go, I must after them, help, let me go, let me go. [Enter Cretin and Marlin excited.] Cretin — W^hat's this? The Marquis de Montmorencv would pre- sume to trifle. I shall insist upon an explanation, sir." This shall go into the courts. A scandal, if you wish. My poor innocent dove. He shall answer for this insult. [Leads Catherine away in hysterics.] Marlin — Why, bless my soul, that was a most compromising affair, Marquis. I did not expect to see that of vou. It ca.sts reflection on your gray hairs, on your dignity as a father. [Leads him out.] Marquis — Balked, baffled, when she could have aided me so oppor- tunely. But one hope is left. 26 Marliii — By my soul, Marquis, you are stark mad. Tllis is serious, very serious. [Exeunt.] [Enter Charles and Claire.] Charles— Shall we sit, Mile? Claire — If you wish. [Seats herself aud picks a flower to pieces.] Charles — A beautiful rose. Claire — You think so. Charles — Claire, why do you hold me at so cruel a distance. When we met beside the brook you were friendly and you conversed freely. You jested, but to-day Claire— [Coldly.] To-day? Charles — To-day 3-ou either speak in monosyllables or you do not speak at all. Have I said anything to displease you? Claire — I have not accused you Charles — Not in so many words, but you have by cold looks and icy smiles. Claire— It has not been my wish to pain n-ou. Charles — How formally you say that, yet when we spoke together last you defended me against your aunt, and you gave me the right to address you wherever we met. Apparently you have changed your mind. Perhaps you now agree with your aunt. You despise the love of a man who is not of noble family. Claire — The love, do I understand you aright? Charles — I do love you. When I hinted it before you were not angry but now when I am permitted to say it openly, you freeze me with disdain. Claire — You permit yourself to say that you love me, pray who has given 3-ou that permission? Charles — Your father and my own. Claire — Do tell me all about it. you have at last found a subject which interests me. Charles — It is all told in these words, I love you. Claire— You love me. You went to }'our father and besought him. You vvon him over. Then he went to my father and pleaded with him and won him over, was that it? Charles — Why, I don't know what took place between them. Claire — [With scorn.] Then I can enlighten you, INIr. Stubborn. My father is more communicative with me than yours with you for he knows that it is not necessary; you are such a model son, so docile and so submissive. You are the clerk and cry amen to whatever your father says. Yes, Mr. Stubborn, I know all. Charles -I do not understand, Claire — Perhaps you will not, you affect ignorance. Charles — Would I be guiltv of Want of frankness to vou, the woman I love? Claire — You flatter me beyoud my deserts. I must thank 3-ou for the honor, though I am surprised you should think it necessary when we are in your power. Charles -You are absolutely mysterious. Claire — Am I, I understand you well enough, sir. Your father has taught 3'ou, being his apt pupil from infanc3-. to believe in mone3-, and to sacrifice such matters as honor and affection to worldly ad- vantages. He is ambitious for \ ou and tells you that it would be a good speculation to marry some girl with no fortune but an historic name, and Claire de Montmorency^ must serve your purpose. She thanks you [makes a sweeping curtesy] and in addition you cozen 27 her by a pretense of a romantic attachment. How you and your father would have laughed at each other if she had believed it. Charles — You are more than wronging me, you are wronging your- self. Any woman might be proud of the love I bear you. Claire — You pla}' your part well. Charles — [Firmly.] If I know my heart I have not deserved insult at your hands. [He bows and rises to leave.] Claire — [Barring his way.] Stay, sir, where are you going? Charles — The obedient and submissive son declines any longer to urge a suit which is received in so extraordinary a manner. Claire — [Stands between him and the door.] Are you an honest man? Charles — Before God, I am. Claire — Then I may believe that you have not considered the false position in which we stand. How can I trust you that you love me, when vou suffer me to be made the victim of « nefarious plot? Charles— Plot ! Claire — You signed the agreement. Charles — I signed no agreement. Claire — I saw your signature. Charles — Oh, I remember now. I signed my name as witness, and as witness simply after the signatures of our respective fathers. I know" no more than the dead w'hat the paper contained. Claire — Can I believe you ? Charles — You are torturing me, there is something serious in all this, tell me, for I love you. Claire — I cannot muster the courage, it is so revolting to my womanhood, to my sense of self respect, that I — I may weep, and I would not shed a tear before the man who has wronged me in his thoughts. Charles — You tears will be sacred, for I love you. Trample on m}- feelings, tear my heart to pieces, from this hour I consecrate myself to you, Claire — I nmst justify myself, John Stubborn holds the mort- gages on Montmorency, and like a highwayman compels my father to surrender his daughter. [Weeps.] Charles — My God. The scales have fallen from my eyes, Claire — [Recovering herself.] And that agreement which you witnessed bound us to forfeit Montmorency. On the other hand, if I married you, the mortgages were to be annulled. I am valued at five hundred thousand francs. Your father is a good accountant. So much for niv smiles, so nmch for my hair, so much for my eyes — the heart, that insignificant thing, was not mentioned. Presumably I was to throw it in as a makeweight. I am a Montmorency, night and morning my aunt repeats the glory of our race to me. But were I a ditcher's daughter, I would not consent to be sold as merchandise. That million which ^ our father throws at my head with such inso- lence of generosity makes me shudder. I am not onlv to be sold, but I am to take part in the transaction and cover myself with infamy. Charles — Oh spare my father! Claire — No one dare claim that it is a son's duty to take part in such a plot against an unoffending girl. Charles — On my soul I knew nothing of this. Claire — Montomrency is dear to me. The broken statues which you saw in the garden, have a priceless value to me. This has been my home. Here I have been happy. Everything around me is a link in a might}- chain of associations and every object recalls the 28 time wheu we were princes in the land. That day has g©ne by. Now is the sway of the niortgagenien and they are to sit in our ancient seats. Take Montmorency, "butClaire de Montmorency will neither sell herself nor permit others to sell her. Charles — My brain is turnir.