PS 2359 .n42 H3 Copy 1 ^n^ti IKtrk^ ^Uth iMarSCap .A. L. MACK A YE & SON Print (A.t iht time iti tht ihxte hixxtitttiiih tunsttnti^s fetfurmnntt ai ^mtl ^irkp at iht ^nitisun ^'t^ttart ^htnisx, ^ctu gnrk Hazel Kirke A Domestic Comedy Drama in Four Acts By Steele MacKaye Author of "Won at Last," "Thro the Dark," "Rose Michel," etc. Copyrighted by J. S. MacKaye, 1880 Copyright renewed by Mary M. MacKaye, 1908 All Rights of Performance and Publication Reserved LIBRARY of CONGSESS! 1 wo CoDies KeceivM JUL 2 )^08 CLASS P ^ /OlC. Nl.. COPY B^ CHARACTERS. .^^'\ ':.^ Dunstan Kirkc, miller of Blackhourn Mill. Arthur Carringford, Lord Travers. Pittacus Green, friend of Carringford. Methuselah Muggins, an original. Barney O'Flynn, Carringford's servant. r~. ' I Miller's bo\s. Dan,) Hazel Kirke, daughter of Dunstan. Mercy, zvife of Dunstan. Dolly Dutton, Hazel's cousin. Lady Travers, mother of Carringford. rO > 1 ::3 <^^' ^ ^ ,^ Hazel Kirke ACT 1. (Scene: Exterior of Dunstan Kirke's mill. At R. exterior of house opening into courtyard and at L. large gateivay. Walls to courtyard, covered with vines, viezv of mill-zvheel in hack-ground. Dozen R. bench, dozvn L. rustic table and tzvo chairs, pile of empty bags up stage C, broom in porch, piano inside R. 2, E. Call piccolo before ringing up.) (Joe discovered marking bags C, Miller boys cross behind zcall, zi.'ith bags of grain on shoulders.) Dunstan. (Inside.) Here. Dan, ye dolt — more bags — be off, boy ! Dan. (Appearing behind zcall, to Joe.) More bags — more bags for market ! Joe. Drat it — give me time to mark 'em, can't ye? Dan. Oh, I don't care how long ye take — but old man Kirke is gettin' into one of his tempers ! ■' Joe. Oh. his tempers be dinged — I'm doin' my best — no man can do more ! (Met heard outside playing pipe.) There's that young ne'er do week Methuselah Miggins, blowin' that frightful pipe o' his again! Dan. Aye, an' he's always a-blowin' it ! Wherever did Maister Kirke find the creature? J(M-. ^ He was left on Mai.ster Kirke's hands by some help he had — who had the impudence to die — and leave this babby for Maister to take care on. he growed up the mischievous booby ye see him — and nobodv can do nothin' wi' him ! 6 H A Z n L K I R K E [Act i. Dan. Except Mistress Hazel Kirke, the miller's daughter — she can manage him wi' a look ! DUNSTAN. (Outside.) Hi there — are ye never coomin" wi' those bags? Dan. There goes the miller — hoory, man — or we'll all be killed ! Joe. (Handing bags to him.) Here take these and coom back for more ! DuNSTAN. (Outside.) Will ye bring those bags, ye lazy dolt? Dan. (Running off.) Aye, aye — I'm coomin'' (Exit.) (Enter Mercy.) Mercy. (Calls.) Dolly, Dolly, child— Dolly. (Inside.) Aye, aye — aunt! Mercy. Hoory — bring the bundles for market into the courtyard, lass ! (Millers appear ivith bags on shoulders.) Dan. (Rushing in.) Bags, more bags, Joe! Joe. (Handing bags.) Here ye are! I'll bring the rest myself! (Dan takes bags and e.r-its R. Joe takes remainder, passes through gateway L.. behind fence, disappears R.) Mercy. (Impatiently.) Dolly, Dolly lass — what's keepin' ye? Dolly. (Entering R. with bundles.) Here I am. Aunt Mercy — Mercy. Has thee got the homespun, lass? Dolly. Aye — here 'tis — bundled and ready to go ! Act I.] HAZEL KIRKB 7 Mercy. Here, tie it up wV the rest o' these ! Dolly. (Tying bundles.) La — Aunt Mercy — is Uncle Kirke going to tak" all these to market wi' him? Mercy. Aye. girl — times be hard and money must be had for Hazel's wedding day! Dolly. Hazel's wedding day? Mercy. Aye, child — her feyther has decided that Hazel must marry Squire Rodney within three months ! Dolly. Oh, how I hate that Squire Rodney! Mercy. Hate him — what for, pray? Dolly. For stealing our Hazel away from her happiness! Mercy. What dost mean, girl? Dolly. You're going to make Hazel marry Squire Rodney for grati- tude — but it won't do, aunt! Gratitude is not the stuff to make a happy marriage of! Mercy. Peace — lass — peace ! Dolly. La, Aunt Mercy, you'd say peace to the wicked one himseli if he were here ! Mercy. I think he be here indeed, Dolly — in thy temper! Dolly. Temper! Well, who has a better right to a temper? My mother was your husband's sister, and all the world knows that Dunstan Kirke has the worst temper in Lancashire ! Dun STAN. (Outside, in rage.) Coom, coom — off wi' ye — don't lollop around here all day ! 8 HAZEL K I R K E [Act i . (Millers cross as before with bags.) (Eo flowing.) Hurry to market, and don't loaf, for I'll be after ye wi' the yoniig colt — as fast as I can L (E.vits after fhein behind fence L.) Is everything' here, Dolly ? DOLLV, Aye. all 1 had to gfet 1 Dun STAN. (Outside L.) Here, here I say — stand round and make things right so and so — and so — don't ye see? DOLLV. Talk of tempers — listen to I'ncle Kirke. raging like a mad buIU MfiT. (Elying front L.j Hi. look out, he's coomin' f (Exits.) DUNSTAN. (Entering, excifedly.) Drat 'em, drat 'em. I say — they're enoug'h to make a divil o' a saint ! Mercv. (Soothingly.) There, there, dear heart — have patience, pa- tience! Dl'nstan. Patient — I am patient — patient as an ang^el— drat the stupid fools — it's taken me ill day to get 'em off K (Hazel sings and plays piano outside R.) (Anger passes azvay, sinks in chair, near table, with satis- faction, at end of so)ig.) Ah— that does me good — that does me good ! Hazel's a lass to g'ladden a feyther's heart — as modest as a miller's girl should be — and as fine mannered and accom- plished as any lady i' the land ! (Enter Rodney L., with samples of grain.) Mercy. Yes — she's well edicated now ! Dunstan. Thanks to Squire Rodney — 'twas he got her the larnin' ! Dolly. And he'll be well paid for it too — when she's his wife ! Dunstan. That'll soon be now, lass ! Act I.] HAZEL K 1 R K E 9 RODXEV. I Advanciuii.) I'm not so sure of that! Dun STAN. Ah. Maister Rodney — here at last] (Shakes hands.) An(.tT.l B A Z n L KIKKB '33 Hazel. Oh, how can 1 tell ! All that I know is that 1 did not realize "how empty my life w^ould be without him, till now the time has -come for him to go. It seems as if the shadow of death were on my heart — it has grown so dull and heavy — so dull and heavy ! (Goes R., sits.) Mercy. (Crosses Lj Does thee say he has never told thee that he loved thee? Hazel. Never, and yet I know he does! Wlien my back is turned I can feel his eyes upon me — I saw them once by accident in the •glass ; I knew all then, for I saw in them my own misery — my 'Own love! Mercy. !\Iy poor child — but we must do the right if it kills usi There's hut one remedy for this, the sharp and short one! He must leave this house at once! (Goiui^.j Hazel. (Barriui^ her [^assa^^e.) No. it is not for vou to send him -awayl THAT IS MY DUTY. It will be less' of insult to him — less of agony to me ! (Second music ready.) Mercy. Thee has not the strength to do it ! Hazel. I will find it ! Send him here to me. and I promise vou I will tell him we must part at once ! (Music.) Mercy. Aye — it's better so, perhaps ; thee shall have thy way, child. (At R.) Courage, lass — be strong i' the battle to-dav — and thou'lt be rich i' the triumph to-morrow! (Kisses her: e.vif.) (Stop music.) Hazel. What am I going to do? Drive away the happiness that Heaven sends me: insult the one man I honor most, and all for what — to keep the rash promise of a thoughtless girl, and so break two hanuless loving hearts — oh. 1 must not think of that or I shall rebel! (Goes L.: leans head on arms on table.) (Enter Arthur R.) 34 HAZEL KIRKE [Act i. Arthur. (Leaning over her.) Miss Hazel ! (She rises: goes R.) (Checks himself: quietly.) Pardon me — Miss Kirk — I have just learned that you wish to speak with me ! Hazel. Mr. Carringford — I have sent for you to say that which may sound strangely from me ! You must leave this house at once ! Arthur. (Coldly.) May I know why? (Third music ready.) Hazel. No — not from my lips ! Arthur. Do you wish me to go? , . Hazel. (Vehemently.) Yes — yes — go quickly! (Music.) Arthur. (Pause: sadly.) Yes, you are right : I will go : I was going! (Extending hand.) Bid me farewell — God speed ! (She extends hand.) (Takes it tenderly: kisses it: she falls in chair sobbing: he leans over her.) (Enter Rodney.) Hazel, you must have mercy and let me speak ! Hazel. . No, I beseech you leave me — in mercy leave me without a word ! (Music stops. Arthur turns to go.) Rodney. (Advancing.) No, stay, Mr. Carringford — I know all ! (Arthur stares: Hazel frightened.) (Calmly.) I know that you love her — that she loves you! Nay, ye need not be afeer'd, lass : I'm not the man to rail at or curse ye — I shall only — (Staggers to chair L.) Hazel. (Supporting him.) Oh, Mr. Rodney! Rodney. (Waving her off .) Nay, it's nothing lass — it's nothing! I'm a bit dazed — that's all ! (Buries face in hands.) Act I.] HAZEL KIR KB 35 Hazel. (Kneeling at his feet.) Oh. Mr. Rodney, you say you know all — oh, forgive us, for we were resolved to do our duty to you ! Rodney. Nay — nay now — no more o' that! There's misery enough i' this world — without an old thing like me a makin' more of it ! (She lifts head: zvipes eyes.) There, there, child — cheer up. and we'll see what's to be done ! Hazel. You do not hate me then ? Rodney. Hate ye? Aaron Rodney will never live to see the day he can hate ye — no, lass, I love ye still — God help me — love ye too much to ask anything save your own happiness ! Hazel. I cannot help the past, but 1 can be brave for the future : I can do my duty — keep my promise — Rodney. And be my wife. No, lass, no — I would not ask it of ye ! But this is a bad affair — a bad affair ! I did not know how far things had gone, or I would not have done what I have done ! Arthur. What have you done? Rodney. I have written to your mother, Mr. Carringford, begging her to call you away from here — I know the pride o' your race, sir. Your mother will never consent to your marriage with Hazel, and I warn ye — if ye seek to dishonor her, there is no living power will prevent me from murdering ye ! Arthur. I should deserve worse than murder, if I could be false to her! Rodney. (Taking his hand.) I believe ye, lad — I believe ye — and I'll not stand in your way ! Hazel. Oh, Mr. Rodney — my noble friend ! Rodney. Aye, lass — only thy friend — but staunch till death ! Give 36 H A Z IS L K I R K E [Aef. r. me your hand, lass! (Haael lays her hand in his: he extends his ozvn to Arthur: then joins their hands.) There, man. is her hand, as far as I can g-ive it to ye — and may Heaven be wi' ye — for her sake! (They embrace.) Dun STAN. (O.titside.) No matter yet — let the horses stand till I've taken in these things ! (Fourth rnnsic ready.) Rodne;y. Your father's voice ! Not a word to him of what has passed between us ! I must speak with him myself first — !)ut I cannot do it now \ I've not got the strength to meet him yet! (Music.) I must get out of this — I must have air! I'll go this way! (Goes door R., turns: extends arms. Hazel goes to him. He kisses her on the forehead.) Good-bye, child — I'll do what 1 can to soften him — and so God bless ye — God bless ye, my dar- ling! (Exits.) (Stop music.) Arthur. This is the bitterest — (taking her in his arms) — and sweetest inoment of my life ! (Dunstan enters zcith bundles. They separate.) DUNSTAN. Ah, lass, here ye are — an' here's thy bundles ! I got the things, but left the rest for Father Kennedy to bring! Hazkl. Thanks, father, but how quickly you've returned ! Dunstan. Aye, there was a letter at post so I hurried home ! They said it was for me! Here, lass, read it for me! (Hands her fetter.) (^he opens it: starts.) Well, lass, and what says the letter? (She grozvs faint: he helps her to chair L. ) My heart, child — what be the matter? There, sit rlou-n — sit down. What's the trouble — is it bad news? Out with it — who's it from ? Hazel. It is signed Emily Carringford! (Arthur starts.) Dunstan. (Looking at Arthur R.) What has she got to say to me? Read it, srirl. What does she sav? .>ct L] HAZEL K 1 R K V. 37 Hazel. (Aside J There is no use — I shall be forced to read it (Reads.) "Dunstan Kirk, Esq. — Dear Sir: — 1 have been i^reatl) startled by learning of my son's presence in your house, and deeply pained by hearing of his conduct with your child — " Dunstan. What's that? Eh— what's that? Hazel. "I have besought him to return to me instantly — if he refuses 1 call on you to add the force of your commands to my prayers." Dunstan. Aye — aye — it be growing clearer — go on, girl — go on ! Hazel. "I cannot describe my indignation — at the thought of my son's love for — " (breaks dozvn.) Dunstan. (Sternly.) Stop there, girl, stop there! (To Arthur.) Mr. Carringford, I've got but one child in the whole world — I love her better than my life. Well, sir, I'd rather bury her with my own hands, than have her faithless to her word. You know s'he's the plighted wife o' Aaron Rodney! Well then, are ye a serpent, I've cherished in my breast to bite me and mine? Have ye dared to think of making love to Hazel Kirke ? Arthur. Fate threw me helpless at her feet — her hands have nursed me back to life — well, sir — I confess what I could not help — I learned to love her ! Dunstan. (Crossing L.) Hazel, thee hears him and thou knows the. duty of an honest lass — go bid him begone at once ! do! Hazel. (Goes to Arthur, 7vho goes C.) No, father, that I cannot Dunstan. What's that thou says? (Astounded.) Hazel. If he must go — I should go — for I, too, am guilty! Dunstan. Great heavens — mv child avow dishonor? 38 HAZEL KIRK E [Act i. Hazel. Father, hear me? DUNSTAN. Hear thee now — never! (Advancing.) I could shake thy shameless heart out ! (Hazel recoils in Arthnr's arms.) (Shielding her.) Stand back, sir — stand back ! (Music. Enter Dolly and Mercy from house. Dan and miller hoys behind wall and in gaten'ay ) DUNSTAN. What — in that man's arms before my very face. Out upon thee, thou foul disgrace — hear thy father's curse ! Mercy. (In anguish.) No, no — she is thy child — thine only child! Dun STAN. Pieg'one — thou misbegotten bairn — begone ! I cast thee out adrift, adrift forever from thy feyther's love, and may my eyes no more behold thee ! Hazel. (Extending her arms.) Mother ! Mother ! DuNSTAN. (Waving her hack.) Stand back ! She's dead to thee for- ever ! (Hazel recoils to Arthur's arms: he leans over her. Tableau. Stop music.) CURT A IN. ACT II. (Interior of lilhi at fairy Grove: gay music at rise, lights full up: hell on table L., and cigarettes and matches: icater and glass on stand R.) (Clara, a serx'ant, discovered dusting room: Met, heard outside playing pipe.) Clara. (Looking off.) There's that worthless boy blowing his pipe ag^ain. instead of minding the garden ! Why did Mr. Car- ringford ever bring tlie ninny here ? (Enter Met, as gardener, TivV// Holders.) Met. Hi — I say. Mistress Clara — where's the missus? Clara. \\'hat do you want of her? Met. Here's some flowers I've been a picking for her — where is she, I say? Clara. She's about here somewhere — crying, I suppose ! Met. Cryin"? What do you mean? Clara. I mean for the last three days — she seems to be awfully put out about something! Met. My heart, girl — what be the matter wi' her? Clara. She's so lonely, I suppose ! She goes nowhere ; see nobody, and for a week her husband has been absent ! 1 never knew him stay away from her so long before — 'rm afraid there's something wrong — what can it be? Met. How should I know? Clara. You knew the missus before she came here — didn't vou ? 40 HAZEL KIR K E [Act n. Met. What makes you think that? Clara. Because she brought you here I Met. No, she didn't bring me here — I followed her — and I'd follow her to the end of the earth if she'd let me ! Clara. That was just one year ago — where did she come from? Met. That's her business \ Clara. Who was she before Lord Travers married her? Met. • A lady — every inch of her— and too good for him !! Clara. Why too good for him ? Met. Look ye here, girl — why is it that he brings no one here to see her — why is it his mother and none of his family, don't never come here at all? Clara, I don't know ! Met. Of course not — ye don't know nothin' ; f Going R. : look- ing out.) La, there she be on the shore of the park lake — I'll take her the flowers ! Clara. Hold on Met — tell me first Met. I'll tell you nothin' — and that's more than you deserve ! (Exit.) Clara. There's a secret somewhere about this house — I can smell it in the air — and that boy knows what it is — but he's as close as the grave — and as devoted to my lady as a miser to his gold ! (Stops suddenly at tvindow; looks out L.) Well, I declare, what sort of a man is this coming up the path? How he mut- ters and shakes his head — as though he were crazy — what can Act II.] HAZEL KIR K E 41 he want here? I must call Barney to get rid of him. (Going.) (Enter Rodney L.) Rodney. Young woman — one moment. Clara. (Turning.) Well, sir — what is it? Rodney. Is this place called Fairy Grove? Clara. Yes, sir — this is Fairy Grove! Rodney. (Looking around: shaking head.) So this is where he has hidden her? Clara. There he goes — muttering and shaking his head ! Rodney. She's here surrounded by luxury — and little dreaming of her shame! ( E.vcited.) Fve found you at last, .\rthur Car- ringford Clara. Good man — what do you want here? Rodney. Is your mistress in ? Clara. , ' You mean Mrs. Carringford? Rodney. (Intensely.) Is she called that here? . ' Clara. Is who called what, sir? Rodney. Your mistress — is she in ? Clara. Certainly — do you want to see her? Rodney. (Frightened.) No. no — not for the world — it would sad- den her to see me! What am I saying — what am I saying? Clara. (Aside.) I must get Barney here at once I 42 HAZEL KIRKE [Act ii. Rodney. Stop, don't go — till ye tell me. Does he treat her well — is she happy? Clara. What do you mean^ sir? Rodney. I mean that if he made her unhappy — I'd tear his heart out ! Clara. (Terrified; calling R.) Barney — Barney! Rodney. Hush — if you make a noise she'll come — don't fear — I mean no harm; I'll go now; I only wanted to be sure I'd found the place ; I'll come back again with salvation in my hand — for her — my darling — my poor, innocent lamb ! What's your name ? Clara. Clara, sir ! Rodney. A good name, and you have a kind face ; I'll trust you with a message — tell Hazel — I mean your mistress — not to grieve ! Heaven has her in its blessed keeping! I'm near at hand to guard her life ; to enforce her rights — tell her this from me ! Clara. Who are you, sir? Rodney. I'm — (Checks himself.) a friend — that's all — a friend ! She must not know my name — you won't tell her that will you? Clara. I don't know it, sir ! Rodney. True — that's good — take this ! (Handing money.) Clara. ' What is it? : Rodney. Gold— gold! Clara. I — I — don't want it, sir! Rodney. Yes, take it — to pay for services I want of you! (Taking Act u.j HAZEL KIRKE 43 her hand.) Watch him — see how he treats her — and tell me when we meet again! Now, to go back to this man's mother! (Going L.J Remember, when we meet again ! (Exit L.J Clara. (Looking after him. J Meet again — deliver me from that ^the man's as crazy as a loon! (Looks at money. J (Enter Barney, R.J Barney. Is that yon. darlin' ? What's that ye'r lookin' at? Clara. Gold, I believe — I can hardly believe its real, though ! Barney. (Snatching: examining money.) Faith — that's the genuine article— sure enough — like yourself — pure gold ! Heaven bless ye, this is the sovereign of the world — but you — you're the sov- ereign of my heart ! Clara. Come, come, Barney — no nonsense, give me my money I Barney. And how do I know it's yours ? Clara. Didn't you snatch it out of my hand just now? Barney. Sure, that don't prove it's yours ! Clara. Come, come now — give me my money ! Barney. Where did ye get it? Clara. From a crazy creature who WaS here just now I Barney. Crazy — was he ! Clara. Yes! Barney. Of course, he was crazy — or he wouldn't have given you this — I'll find the fool and restore his fortune ! (Going. J Clara. Barney O'Flynn — will you give me that sovereign? 44 HAZEL KIR KE [Act ii. Barney. How can I give what isn't my own, dear? Clara. Do you mean to keep it yourself? Barney. Kape it — no indeed — I mean to exchange it ! Clara. (Bashfully.) What for, Barney? Barney. For the swatest thing a man could drame of — wan of your kisses ! (She screams; exits rapidly down R., as Arthur enters L., with overeoat on arm: cigarette.) Arthur. Well, Barney! Barney. (Starting) Holy murther, master, ye frightened me — sure, sir — I'm glad you're back again! Arthur. (Flinging overcoat to Barney.) Where's my wife? Barney. Your wife, sir? Arthur. Certainly — my wife ! Barney. (With a cough.) Oh, yes — sartinly — she's in the garden, I belave ! Arthur. (Sitting at table.) Let h.er know that I've returned! Barney. All right, sir! (Coi)ig; stops in porch.) He's in one of his quare moods again — he's getting tired of this already ; I knew he would ; he'll end it soon — they ahvays do ! Ah, thc^''- no- thin' like a Scotch marriage on the wrong side of the line to save the trouble of a divorce and chate the lawyers ! (E.vits R.) Arthur. (Producing letter; reading.) "My dear Travers — your mother is in a very mysterious condition — to-day she arose from her bed, for the first time in six months, laboring under some great excitement, that is giving her temporary strength ; she asks Act II.] HAZEL K I R K E 45 the most searching questions about you — she gets more impatient every day for your union with Lady Maud !" (Eolding letter.) Strange, very strange, I hoped for good news ! Ah, will this never end — how long must 1 conceal our marriage. Shall 1 never he able to show the world the noble woman who is my wife ? (Reverie.) Hazel. (Runs in; sees him; creeps up behind him; puts hands over his eyes.) Ah, you are back at last, my darling? Arthur. (Embracing her.) Apparently! Hazel. Oh, r so glad — so glad — I've been nearly dead with lone- liness ! xArthur. Have you really missed me so much, then ? Hazel. More than you will ever know or care, I fear ! Arthur. I love to have you miss me ! Hazel. Of course you do — you wouldn't love me if you didn't! Arthur. And you're not tired yet of these iron bonds of matrimony ? Hazel. I call them golden bonds ! Arthur. And so they are, darling — may they always hold us — heart to heart ! Hazel. (Saddening.) Heigh-ho! (Rises.) Arthur. Heigh-ho ! Well, well — what does this mean ? Hazel. Only a silly thought — I'm superstitious — too much happi- ness is dangerous — that's all ! ' Arthur. (Taking hands.) Little woman, do you know I'm not blind — there's somethincf troubles vou — what is it? 46 HAZEL KIR KB [Act Ji. Hazel. (Imitating.) Big man — do you know I'm not blind — there's something troubles you — what is it? Arthur. Come, come — dear — I'm in earnest ! Hazel. (Sobered.) And so am I, dear — for the last few weeks, whenever you have been at home, you've been so silent and moody ! Oh, Arthur, can't you trust me with your sorrow as well as your joy? Come, tell me what troubles you? Arthur. Business — that's all — but you. Hazel, you have no such ex- cuse for sadness ! Hazel. I sad? (Laughing.) Why, I'm the gayest creature in the world ! Arthur. You try to be before me — but when you've supposed me absent — I've seen you in tears. Have I not done all that I could to make you happy? Hazel. Oh, yes — indeed you have ! Arthur. Then why have I failed? Hazel. Failed — you have not failed — you have made me too happy ! My happiness startles me sometimes ; I so little deserve it ; I confess, at moments I am haunted ! Arthur. By what, dear? Hazel. (Going to couch R.) I hardly know — a vague, uncertain dread ! This last year has been so strange — the wav we met ; our secret marriage in Scotland — - — ■ Arthur. But you know why our marriage had to be so secret ? Hazel. Yes, because your proud mother had set her heart upon another marriagfe for vou A.t ii.i .HAZEL KIRKB 47 Artuvr. (Goiiii^ up to her. J Determined to make me the husliand 'of Maud Wetherby, she has been very ill for years ; to have ac- knowledg-ed niy marriage with you, would have surely been {o kill her — so I was forced to have our marriage take place in the way that offered least risk of discovery by her! Hazel. Oh, my darling", 1 do hate this hiding — it gives our mar- riage the color of a crime — how much longer must it last ? Arthur. I have been hoping every day that my mother would have .grown strong enough to bear the news, that you are my precious wife, but I am disappointed — she is no better — I even fear she's growing worse! Hazel. (Going L.) Your mother deceived — my father broken hearted — Oh, it is horrible! Arthur. (Angrily.) \\*liat a fool I've been^ Hazs;l, (In dismay.) What do you mean? Arthur. (Risi)ig.) I've been stupid enough to fancy that my love — my devotion might suffice to make you forget ; to make you happ}^ ! Hazel. So they do — I was wrong to confess these foolish fears to you — say you forgive me] Arthur. Forgive you — no. little woman, it is for you to forgive! Hazel. Forgive what — dear ? Arthur. Forgive me that I have not rendered you. the open honor, that was due you as a wife! Hazel. How strangely you say that — what can you mean ? Arthur. Well, no matter now! (Affecting gayety: crossing L. of table L.) Away with gloomy thoughts — all's well that ends well — by Jove, where are m\- cigarettes? 48 B A Z E L K I R K E [Act II. IL\zEL. (Gailv taking cigarette from table.) I will light you a fresh one! (He lights match; she draivs on cigarette: takes a puff; hands it to him, zvith cough.) There — talve the horrid thing! (Goes C.) zArth.ur. (Smoking; going to her; putting arm around her.) Horrid thing! Why. I declare, it's the most delicious cigarette I ever smoked in my life! Thanks, little woman — may all our sor- rows end like this — in smoke and a kiss? (Kisses her.) (Enter Green L.; sun umbrella over head: laden li'ith sporting' traps; coughs.) I declares, at last it's our dear old Green ! Green. 'Tis true, 'tis Pitty — and pity 'tis, 'tis true ! You may not believe it, but these things are a bore ! Hazel. (Laughing.) Talk of matrimonial misery and bandboxes — ■ what are they to the awful doom of a bachelor devoted to sport ? Green. Oh. I say — don't make sport of a man in mortal agony — be heroic, come to the rescue — take the curio! (Handing Hazel umbrella.) The idea, billing and cooing still — a year after mar- riage, too — it's an outrage on society ! Arthur. (Having unloaded him: down L.) Now, tell us — to what do we owe your sudden advent here? Green. To the same old lady — rumor — the despot of my life ! Hazel. (Laughing.) And what monstrous thing has she reported here ? Green. (C.) Monstrous bliss ! The fame of your fishes ; the taste of your game ; the sound of your kisses is wafted on the breath of Rumor to the uttermost end of an envious world ! So here I am with all my senses wild to see, hear, smell, taste and touch — I'll begin with touch — give me your fists, ye immortal pair of blissful curiosities. (Taking them by the hand: then pointing to her hand.) Will you permit me? (She laughs; he kisses her hand.) Won't you share your monstrosities with me ? Hazel. (Laughs.) All we can ! Act 11.] H A Z li L K I K K £ 49 Green. All but the kisses, I suppose? (Sits oii couch R.) Arthur. T don't see how we can reserve much else! (Goes itp ( .) Hazel. (/// chair L.J But what are you going to give us for let ting you into our paradise? Grren. For you I have news — for this mortal a sermon ! Arthur. ^^'ell, let it be a galloping sermon then — I'll go and order the horses at once ! (Strikes bell on tabic.) Green. Capital ! Hazeu Sermon or ride ? Green. Capital, my dear, referred to his going 1 Arthur. I'm ofif — beware — I've my eye upon you! Green. Keep your ear off — that's all we ask ! (Enter Barney R.) Arthur. (Pointing to tackle.) Pick up those things and follow me. (Exits L.) ^ Barney. (Taking them.) Bad luck to the game — they've got divil a chance now! (Exits L.) Hazel. Xow, for your news? Greex. I'm just from lUacklnUMi mill! Hazel. And you have letters for me? Green. X(\ not yet — your father declares that the first who writes vou. shall leave his house ! (Sits R.) 50 H A Z H L KIR K B. [Act ii. Hazel. (Sadly.) Is he still so angry with me, then ? Green. He's the pig-headedest old hard heart I ever knew — he won't let them breathe your name Hazel. (Crossing.) How did you learn this? Green. Dolly told me I Hazel. (ru::dcd.) Dolly — is that what you call her? Green. Oh, I forgot — you don't know- — do you ? Hazel. Know what? Green. ■ Why, about Dolly — she's done for Hazel. Done for? Green. Yes — going to make a fool of herself! Hazel. How? Green. By becoming the better half of P. Green— pity — isn't it? Hazel. (Amazed.) Do you mean to say you're going to marry my cousin ? Green. Oh, no — she's going to marry me ! Hazel. Oh, I'm so glad ! Green. You may not believe it — but, so am I — will you permit me? (Kisses hand.) Hazel. (Sitting on lounge R.) Now, sit right down here by me, and tell me all about it ! Act II.] H A Z II L KIR K E 51 GreiCn, (Sitting.) Oh, it was all just like Dolly herself — short and sweet. After you left Lancashire, the doors of the old mill were sternly closed — especially against mel But, it didn't mat- ter — you see ; I suddenly became interested in damns — there was one near the mill ; 1 used to visit it — the sight of anything damned was a relief to me ; weeks passed, but the doors of the old mill remained closed ; fever ensued ; I got dam on the brain, and went about muttering damn all day! However, nothing could dam-pen the ardor of my disease — at last the crisis came ; Dolly appeared and took pity! Yes, she relieved my delirium, and to ensure a cure, consented to become Ma-dam! Hazel. (Laughing.) You dear, silly old thing — so you're going to become my cousin? Green. Bless me, so I am — I didn't think of that! Will 3'ou per- mit me? (Kisses her hand.) (Arthur enters L.) Arthur. Haloo there, I say! Green. (Coolly.) So do I ; I say and I do ! Will you permit me ? (Kisses her hand.) I say — cousinship is good ! Arthur. (To Hazel.) What does the rascal mean ? Hazel. Something wonderful — he means Green. Hush — quietly — his nerves are weak ! Have you ordered the horses? Arth ur. Yes, but- GrEEn. Stop, but me no buts — Hazel, my dear — go and get ready to drive, and leave this reprobate to the tender mercies of your cousin Pit ! Hazel. (Going R., laughing.) Oh, very well — don't forget the ser- mon — text husbands, obey your wives ! (B.rits.) 52 H A Z £ L KIR K Li [Act ii, Arthur. Now, sir — please explain ! Green. I explain — why, sir — I've traveled three hundred miles to make you explain ! Arthur. Explain what? Green. (Producing slip of ncivspapcr.) That, sir f Arthur. (Reading.) "Another important engagement in high life, announced ; — that of lord Travers to Lady Wetherby ! Green. That, sir, is from the Post — a very respectable and reliable authority ! Arthur. ( Laughing. ) Evidently ! Green. (Solcnuily.J I don't see anything to laugh at! Arthur. Don't you — then look in the glass ! Green. Come, come, sir — this is no joke — it is an infernally seri- ous matter ! Arthur. Clearly, a most solemn afifair — almost as awful as the para- graph about you a few weeks since ! Green. About me? Arthur. Something like this : "We understand that after long and painful consideration, the Hon. P. Green has decided to become • — a bachelor." What do you think of that? Green. I think it is an infernally impudent lie I Arthur. That's what I think of this 1 Act 11.] H A Z E L KIR K B 53 Green. There's no resemblance in the two cases, sir — liow can I become a bachelor, since I am one ? Arthur. How can 1 marry, since I am married? Green. But. confound it. sir — you're not married! Arthur. If I'm not married — then you must be an old maid] Green. ■ Eh? I don't see that! Do you dare to say, that in conse- quence of your villainy, my sex is to sufifer? No, sir — it's your manhood, not mine, that's at stake! Arthur. Are you mad? Green. Yes, sir, I am ; blind mad^who wouldn't be under the cir- cumstances ? Arthur. (Irritated.) Under what circumstances? Green. Why, sir, you commit a crime, and when I am about to implore you not to commit another — you impeach my sex, sir — impeach my sex ! Arthur. By Jove, you are insane ! Green. Insane — I wish I could say as much for you ; insanity is the only excuse for such exasperating, outrageous, scoundrelly conduct as yours ! Arthur. Good Heavens, Green — are you really serious ? Green. Serious — I should think so — I'm as serious as an avalanche, an earthquake and a volcano — all in one ! Arthur. \Miat a frightful row about nothing! (Reads hook.) Green. Xothing! Is it nothing to deceive an honest girl into be- 54 H A Z B L K / R K E [Act ii, lieving she's a married woman, when she isn't ; is it nothing to marr}^ one woman and swear to love, honor and obey her, when you love, if you don't honor another? Is it nothing to betray where you're trusted most ; is it nothing to be a cool, calculating villain, and look as innocent and serene as an angel? Arthur. My dear boy, of whom are you talking? Green. Now, that's wicked, Travers ; that's pure malignant cruelt\ -- haven't I always been a loyal friend? Arthur. Decidedly ! Green. Then, why couldn't you have trusted me? Arthur. I've never distrusted you! Green. Oh, yes. you have ; you dealt with me in a beastly mean' manner; you've made me an unconscious accomplice in a piece of business I despise [ Arthur. There you go again ; I vow its enough to irritate a saint : can't you tell me plainly- — what in the world you mean ? Green. What, do you mean to say — on your honor — yoti don't un- derstand ? Arthur. I meart to say that your gabble for the last half hour has been Pattagonian gibberish to me; (Drops book on tabic ciii- phatically.) Green. Patty — gibby-gabby ! Can it be possible ? Arthur. Can what be possible? Green. Can it be possible that you don't realize your own situation ? Arthur-, What is mv situation ? A.'t Ti.] // A Z B L K J A K L 55 Green. Travel's — you're either the most acconipHshed hy])ocritc or the higgest fool that ever Hved — take your choice] Arthltr. Enough of this ; con^e to the point — what do you mean ? Green. That's precisely what I've traveled 300 miles to know — • what do you mean ? Arthur. (Disgusted.) If this is one of your jokes — it's in very bad taste. (Going.) I'll leave you to find the fun of it for yourself \ Green. I Astounded.) \ jole; the idea — it's no use; that floors me! (Running after him.) Here, Travers ; come Ixick ; there must be a mistake; I give in; you've turned tlic tables on me; I'll explain m_\-self! Arthur. (D. F. L.) Well, begin! Green. (Hesitating.) Confound it — Arthur. What's the matter now? Green. I don't know liow to begin ; it's such an awful l)usiness Vou see, I've been sneaking about the old mill latch-; and a rinnor reached me there, that just covered me with goo^e-tlesh! Arthur. Who ever suspected you of any other covering? Green. Yes. I see; my name is — oh, hang my name; let's get to the report! It seems Scjuire Rodney has been looking into vour affairs, and — by Jove, he swears }ouVe deceived Hazel Kirke! Arthur. Indeed — and how? Green. He said that \our marriage to her was a pretense: a farce; a lie! Arthur. And you believed him ? 56 HAZEL KIRKE [Act li-. Greek. How could I help it? He declares he has positive proof that you went towards Scotland, with the pretense of marrying Hazel by Scottish law, but that you cunningly stopped on the border and went through the flimsy Scotch ceremony upon Eng- lish ground 1 Arthur. It is an infamous slander! Green. Can you prove that ? Arthur. I'll soon convince you! (Strikes bell.) Green. How? Arthur. By the testimony of a witness to my marriage — Barney I Green. Gracious — he's the very one that Rodney named as your accomplice ! Arthur. Absurd I (Enter Barney R.) Barney — I want — Green. Hold on — (Aside.) I'll question him ; we wan<- to get at the truth, you know — and these chaps easily slip into a lie' Arthur. I don't understand ! Green. You will in a moment — Barney — your master called you because the time has come for us to settle certain matters, and we wish to be sure that everything is all right, you know ! Barney. Faith, sir — I'm at your service! Green. Well, then, my good Barney ; tell us frankly ; are you quite sure that the place where Lord Travers went through the cere- monv of marriag-e with Miss Kirke — was not in Scotland? .Act 11.] H A Z LI h K 1 R K a .57 Arthur. (Starting.) I protest — Green. As you're an lionest man. keep quiet — answer my question Barney. B.\rnev. I will, sir — when my master bids mel Arthur. (Aside.) What a strange thing- for him to say J Greex. Shall he answer my (luestion ? Arthur. Certainly — I 'arney, speak freely ! Barney. .(To Grccit.j Well, then, sir — your question be a quafe one) Green. Ah — in what respect ? B.XRNEY. Do ye think I'd betray my master, sir? Green. Xo — of course not ! B.VRNEY. I've been in sarvice of the gentry, sir, for twenty \ears— iloes ye tak me for a fool? Green. Xo — 1 never judge a man by his looks! Barney. Looks — I know how to look after my master's interests, sir — and that's look enough for me — so, of course, I tuk good care to have such a marriage as he wanted, come oflf in the wrong place! (Arthur starts.) Greex. ( Ldolciui:^ at Arthur.) What place was that? Barney. Faith, the wrong place for a Scotch marriage is the English side of the Scottish line I Arthur. (Crossiiii:; to him: in frcucy.) Do you mean to say tiiat 58 H A Z U L K I R K B. [Act IL. the inn you took us to, was on the border- — but not in Scotland ? Barne;y. (Astonished.) Of course I do, sir!. Arthur. (Frenzied.) You miserable, dastardly villain — I coula brain you! (Grasps him by the throat.) Barney. Sure, sir — 1 only followed your own orders [ Arthur. (Amased.) Followed my orders ? Barney. To the letther, sir — didn't ye come to me all of a suddint one night, at the old tavern in Blackbotirn — an' didn't ye say, "Barney — I want to get married to oust, secretly, in Scotland"? Arthur. I did, you rascal ! Barney. Didn't you tell me to take ye to the borders ? Arthur. Well ? Barney. Well, sir — an' so I did ; to the borders of matrimony, as 1 thought ye intended ! Arthur. (Shaking him.) Idiot, scoundrel, wretch! (Green interferes; frees Barney; they liave crossed to L.) (In agony, tip C.) Hazel, dishonored, outraged — oh, it is horrible ; horrible ! (Rushes at Barney.) Green. (Interposing.) Come, come, Travers ; there's no use wast- ing time in misery now — there's something better to be done ! Arthur. Yes, you are right ; we will go, find a curate, and I will marry her at once ! (To Barney.) Imbecile ; I'm going to take measures, partially, to amend the outrage you have committed ; let us have no more mistakes — tell my wi — (Pause; ivith ardor.) Yes, before Heaven and my own heart — she is my wife ! Tell my wife, that I have been called away, but will return soon — and understand ; not one word of this to anvone ! Act Ti.] HAZEL K I R K E 59 Barney. All right, vour honor! Arthur. (To Circcii; iioiiii^.J Come, let us hurry; every instant is torture till Hazel is my wife! {Exeunt.) (first music ready.) Barney. Faith, thin; 1 can't make this out for the life of me! He's lost his head, as well as his heart, entirely — and to a peasant's child — too. (Up C; looking L.J Eh — who's this old party coming up the walk — it's Squire Rodney — that bodes no good to this place! Holy murther, who's that behind him — if it isn't Lady Travers herself — the powers purtect us — she's found us out ! Oh, dear ; oh, .dear — what in the world shall we do — what in the world will I do? \Mii.sht — she's here! (Music, ominous; stops as they get to door. Enter Rodney; follozved by Lady Travers; old, very ill, lean- ing on arm of footman in livery. ) Rodney. This is the place, my lady — and this is the man ! Lady T. Barney. — is that you ? Barney. Faith, your ladyship — I'm not sure — I belave it is! Lady T. I thought you were abroad with my son ? Barney. Yes, ma'am — I' with your son, and sure, I fale abroad-^ leastways, I don't feel at home ! Lady T. (Faintly.) A chair! (Rodney helps her to chair L.) Water! (Barney gives her a glass of zvater from R.) (She drinks it; hands back glass.) Is my son here? Barney. No. my lady ! Lady T. (Aside.) So much the better! (Aloud.) Ts the lady of the house in ? Barney. Ts it Ladv Carringford ve mane — mv ladv? 60 H A Z B L K 1 R K /;' [Act n. Lady T. (Sternly.) It is not Lady Carringford that I mean I Barney. (Aside.) She knows all! (Aloud.) She is in, my lady? Lady T. Inform her that a lady would speak with her on important business ! Barney. (Goiiii^.) I will, my lady! Lady T. Stay — not a word of who it is ! Barney. Kot for the world, my lady I Lady T. And, Barney — Barney. Yes. my lady — - Lady T. When 1 strike twice on this bell, come here instantly — do yon understand ? Barney. Oh. very well — my lady! Lady T. You may go ! Barney. Thank ye — my lady! (Aside; ^oiiii^.) Faith — I'd like to g"o anywhere out of this mess! (Exits.) Lady T. Thomas — return to the carriage and wait till I send for you ! (Servant bo'ws and e.vits.) Mr. Rodney, I deem it best I should see this girl alone ! Rodney. Yes, you are right — 'tis best that I should go ! But. oh, niadame. have pity upon her ; break all gently, let your woman's heart feel for a woman's wrongs ! Lady T. It does — for wrongs of which you little dream I Rodney. I have been merciful to you; you must be merciful to her! Act II.] H A Z a L K I R K H 61 Lady T. !T('^\ have yon been merciful to nie? Rodney. How? When I first learned the truth, I started out to find . your son — to take his life for wronging her! Lady T. Ah! Rodney. Yes — but I thought of you — his mother — and I said. I will spare him for her sake, for she will force him to do his duty! Lady T. And so she will! (Aside.) A duty more imperative than tliat to this low-born girl ! Rodney. (Hai'iiii;; gone up R. for hat, comes down R. of Lady T.) Believing this, I sought you out and told you all ; I never should have brought you here to put this child to shame, except it were to save her from that shame itself ! Lady T. And so you're sure her marriage to my son — Rodney. Was none at all ! ■ Alas, my lady, it was none at all ! Lady T. (Aside.) Thank Heaven for that! (Aloud.) Go and wait for me at the hotel ! Rodney. I will, my lady, and pray Heaven to bless you for this day's noble work! (B.vit L.) Lady T. His blessings are worse than any curse ! Why is this girl so long in coming? This suspense is sapping all my strength! (Enter Hasel) Ah — she's here ! Hazel. (Advancing in wonder.) You wished to see me, madam ? Lady T. I did — please be seated near me ! (Hazel goes up C.) The old story — the fatal power of a handsome face ! 62 H A Z E L K I R K B [Act ir. Hazel. (Aside : i^cttiiig chair.) What a strange, commanding tone— 1 wonder who she is? (Sits near her.) Lady T. (Pause.) I am Lady Travers — the mother of Arthur Car- ringford 1 (Hazel starts.) You need not fear me — I have not come to curse, but to beg— Hazel- But why — madam— why ? Lady T. I see shining iil your eyes the womanhood that has be- witched my son — and see — to that womanhood — I kneel to be — implore a fearful sacrifice from you! (About to kneel.) Hazel. (Preventing her.) Oh, madam — you shall not kneel I (Placing Jier back in chair.) Ask any sacrifice I can make in honor, and I will gladly make it for your son ! Lady T. Alas — you know not what you promise — listen ! My hus- band had a ward, whose fortune he wrongfully used and lost f Upon his dying bed he confessed this to me, and made me promise to hide his shame by marrying our only son to that ward ! 1 promised, and I have lived since, but to keep my word and save ou r honor ! Hazel. Oh, madam — how terrible ! Lady T. My son never knew why I was so determined to make this match — but he, to humor me, promised to marry Lady Maud .' Suddenly I heard he was living here with you — with grief and shame I gathered strength enough to bring myself here to im- plore you to save us all. Hazel. Oh, what can I do — what can I do? Lady T. Be sublime for his sake — fly from him and save him from disgrace ? Hazel, Save him from disgrace? Art IL] H AZ a L KIR K E 63 Lady T. Yes, within a month Lady Maud will come of age. and demand a settlement of her estate — nothing but her marriage to my son. can save him from ruin and shame ! Hazel. (In agony.) Oh, how horrible — my punishment begins — I, who should prove his blessing — am his curse ! Beggary, humili- ation and shame stare him in the face and all — all because of me I Lady T. Then leave him — fly from him at once! Hazel. And never see him in this world again ? Xo, no — you ask more than I have strength to do — besides, what use is that — I am his wife— his wretched wife! Lady T. What if you were not his wife? Hazel. Ah, then perhaps Heaven would give me the courage to fly for his sake ! Lady T. (Rising.) It will, heroic girl, for he is free — you are not his wife ! Hazel. (Stunned.) Not his wife? Lady T. As he deceived me by loving you, .so he has betrayed you h\ a pretended marriage ! Hazel. He, Arthur, betrayed me? 'Tis false— I'll not believe it I'hc proofs — the proofs ! Lady T. (Staggers : gasps: sinks in cliair.) Ah. have tnercy or I shall die ! Hazel. (Throi^'ing herself at her feet.) Forgive me. I will be wise, calm, patient — only take back your words — tell me that Arthur is not false, and I will leave him. bear disgrace or death, only so that he may be free from every stain 1 Lady T. (Strikes hell tz^'ice.) Poor child — would that I could spare 64 HAZEL KIRKE [Act ii. the blow that duty — but no, there is something at stake of greater vahte than your happiness or my Hfe — the good name of an old and honorable race ! (Enter Barney.) This man will tell you I speak the truth — when I say you are not the wife of Arthur Carringford ! Hazel. (Rises; turns.) This man — why, he was witness to my niarriage ! Lady T. A Scotch marriage upon English ground, and so, illegal, worthless, void ! Hazel. (To Barney.) Can this be true? Barney. Heaven forgive us^ miss — it is ! Hazel. True ! That is what he meant when he said he had not done his duty to me as a wife ! He, my Arthur — my brave, gen- tle, manly Arthur, has deceived me — betrayed me, who trusted him as though he were a god ! Oh, my heart is breaking — I shall die — I shall die ! (Kneels before sofa R. sobbing.) (Second music ready.) Lady T. (Goes to her; puts arms around her.) Courage, child, courage ! Hazel. (Rising; throws her arm off; goes L.; faces R.) Courage for what — to face the agony of love deceived here in my own heart ; to face the taunting finger of a cruel world pointing at my shame ? No, never ; he shall right my wrong ; he shall make me an honorable wife or — Lady T. (Staggering.) Peace, girl, or you will add my murder to his other crimes ! (Falls back on sofa.) Hazel. Murder, no — forgive me ; I have done wrong enough ; I see it all ! It is my father's curse ; my father's curse ! (Music.) You have asked me to fly for his sake ; the sake of the man who has degraded me — here is my answer ; I accepted these as tokens of love given to an honored wife — he shall have all — all ! Act II.] H AZ E L K 1 RK E 65 (Has been taking off jcivelry and piittiui:^ it on table: about to take off weddinij^ ring: stops.) No. no, not this, my marriage ring" ! This I have bought by a wife's love — a woman's perdi- tion — this I will keep ! ( Going.) The rest I leave forever — -I go to cover up his infamy with my shame — and may Heaven for- give you all ! (Exits L.) (Lady T. staggers; falls back dead on sofa; music stops : Barney runs to her, as quickly falls the) CURTAIN. ACT III. (Scene: Bvening. Kitchen at Blackbourn mill: door lit by glo7i' of tire: clothes-horse zvith toivels on it, be- fore tire: clock and cupboard R., in which are pipe and matches, tobacco, food, dishes, etc.: lighted candle on table C.) (Mercy and Dolly discovered at table up C, zuliich is between two chairs — ironing. Music at rise: lights half dozvn: clock strikes eight.) Mercy. Eight o'clock — it's time for evening' prayers, Dolly. Go to the mill and call Joe and Dan ! Dolly. All right, aunt ! (Exit R. I. E.) Mercy. Now, to put away the linen ! (Does so in drawers R.) (Met plays pipe outside.) (Starts.) What's that ? (Listens.) (Pipe stops.) Strange — Met used to play that tune — and it sounds like Met's pipe, too — what can it mean? Has he left Hazel? Aye — perhaps he's coom to see me — with news of her! (Goes: opens door: calls.) Met, Met, is that you ? Met, Met ! (Met, pale, ragged, haggard, enters R.) (Pulling him in.) It is you ! Come in, lad ; come in and tell me the news ! What's the word — speak, lad, speak ! Met. I want her — where is she? Mercy. Who? Met. Hazel — I want her — I've tramped 400 miles to find her! Mercy. !\Iy heart, lad — what are you saying? AlET. I must see Hazel — she's here ! Act III.] H A Z B L K I R K U 67 Mercy. Hazel — Hazel here ! Nb, she's not here ! (Met falls into chair.) Mercy on us — what's coom to thee? Met. Xot here ! \\'here can she be ? Where can she be ? Mercy. Wi' her hoosband. I suppose! Met. No, no — she left him a month ago ! :\lERCY. Left him — why? Met. I don't know ! Mercy. Where did she go? Met. I thought she'd coom here, so I followed her on foot! (Risiiig.) But I'll go back— I'll walk till I die, but I'll find her! Mercy. Ah. what do you mean, ]\Iet — what do you mean? Met. I mean there's something wrong. That man's mother came to the house ; she was found dead there and Hazel gone ! Mercy. Great Heavens, Met — you frighten me ! Met. Hazel is somewhere, wandering — as I have been for a month — ill, starving, perhaps — as I am! I'll go to her — I must — I will find her! (At porch door.) Mercy. Stop — and I'll go with thee, lad! Met. (Goes to her: takes hand.) Oh, mistress, God will bless you for that word ! Mercy. P)Ut you must wait till after prayers^Dunstan would miss me if I went off now ; he'd ask questions — and oh, ]\Iet, he must not know ; he's been verv ill, this news would kill him ! 68 HAZEL K I R K B [Act iii. Met. Then, mistress, go to the master; I'll run down to Squire Rodney's house. If I can find him, he'll help us! Mercy. Aye — so he will, lad. Go, go quickly ; I will meet you at his house within an hour ! Met. (Going.) Never fear, we'll find her now, for sure! (Exits.) Mercy. Now to get ready to find Hazel ! (Dolly enters: foUoivcd by Joe and Dan.) Dolly. We're all here now, aunt ! Mercy. Aye — all — all but the one who ought to be here the most ! Dolly. What do you mean, aunt? Mercy. I cannot tell thee now — tomorrow, perhaps ! Come, come, child. (Exnent Omnes L.) (Pause: knocks on door, repeated: door opens — Green appears: looks around: beckons: Arthur enters.) Arthur. Well? Green. Not a soul in sight — all as quiet as the grave! Arthur. (Pointing door L.) Look yonder — she may be inside! (Green opens door: recoils: lifts hat.) Well ? Green. They are at prayers ! Arthur. (Lifts hat.) And Hazel? Green. Is not among them ! Arthur. Shall I never find her — never see her precious face again? ("Abide zvith me" sung off: they listen reverently.) Act Jli.] HAZEL KIRK R 69 Green. (At end of song.) Their prayers are over now they'll soon he here — and when they come, we'll ask them, if they have heard anything of yonr — of her ! Arthur. And if she has not been here— what are we to do? Green. Vou may not believe it — but I be hanged if I know ! Arthur. 1 have searched for her everywhere — without finding a trace. My last hope has been to find her — if we fail now I shall believe the worst ! Green. And what is that? Arthur. That she has taken her own life ; murdered by me ! Oh. the thought drives me mad — drives me mad! (Rises; goes down R.J Green. (Starting.) Merciful Powers! Arthur. (Rising.) What is it? Green. We forgot — when they come here, they'll recognize you I Arthur. And, if they do? Green. The old miller hates you! If he knows where Hazel is — you're the one man in the world, he'll keep her hidden from ! Arthur. What are we to do? Green. Leave me to get the truth from Dolly! Once J set her ton- gue at work, we'll soon know all ! Go — wait outside, till 1 have had a chance to make her talk ! Arthur. (Going.) You'll find me at the old seat near the lock! The moment vou sfet news — 70 HAZEL KIRK E [\a \u. Green. I'll fly like lightning to tell you all! Arthur. (Pausing at doorzvay.) If we do not find her this time — i shall despair — despair ! (Exit.) Green. Poor fellow — he's broken-hearted, and I— I've no more backbone than a caterpillar ! Dolly. (Outside.) All right, aunt, I'm going! Green. (Starting.) Dolly's voice — she's coming ; she'll see me ! The shock might shake her; I'll spare her feelings for a while! (Leaves glove on table; hides behind horse.) (Enter Dolly, ivith basket and candle, followed by Joe and Dan.) Joe and Dan. (Together.) Good-night, Miss Dolly! Dolly. Don't forget to tell Squire, Rodney, that Uncle Kirke wants to see him here to-night ! Joe. I'll see and tell the Squire myself! (Folloii.'s Dan off R.) Dolly. (Goes to table; sees glove.) Dear me — what's this, a glove! Who's? A man. (Smells: sternly.) Pittacus — as sure as I'm a woman ! So he's been here and gone away without a word ! (Green appears.) That's just like the heartless brute! Six weeks since he left me, promising to go and see Hazel, and bring me news of her — not a word from him yet! (Weeping.) Oli. these men, these men, why were they ever made? I can't see the use of the faithless things ! (Green behiiid her: grimacing.) ( Eidignantly.) Oh, don't I wish I had him here now! (Dozvn C.) How I would make his ears burn and his head ache ! (Green dodges behind screen.) How I'd warm his brazen cheeks for him! (Slaps glove across hand: begins to take off tozvcls from horse: slaniniing them into basket.) (Green dodges behind clothes that are left: comic business.) The base, deceitful hypocrite! (Slams tozvel in basket.) Act III.] HAZEL K I R K E 71 pretending he couldn't live a day without me! (Same) And then leaving nie here — (Same) for weeks and weeks (Same) with a breaking heart ! (Green snatehes off last towel.) (Starts.) Mercy — who's that? What — vou there, Mr. Green? (D. C.) Green. (Gettiiii::; doz^'u tozvard her.) No, Dolly, I was there, but now I'm here! (Has eome near her.) And I'm not Green any more, Dolly, but blue — truly blue to see you so severe ! (Kneels.) Pitty Blue! Dolly. (Sternly.) What are you doing here, sir? Green. Kneeling, I believe — and you may not believe it. but it isn't an k-neesy thing for me to do! (Rises.) Ha, ha — dy'e see? Dolly. Yes — I see a donkey! Green. (Embraces her and sings to the air of "Comin' Thro' the Rye.") If a donkey meet a donkey. Need a donkey sigh ? And if a donkey kiss a donkey, Need a donkey cry? (Kisses her.). Dolly. • Don't touch me, sir! • Green. Sir, to me — that's queer! Dolly. Queer — I should think it was queer! (Sits in ehair L. of table C.) Green. Dolly. Dolly, I say! Dolly. Who cares what you say? Green. But, Dolly. I want — Dolly. Who cares what vou want? 72 H A Z n L K I R K E [Act in. Green. But really, my darling! Dolly. Tilt, tut ; don't dare to darling me after what's happened ! Green. What's happened? Dolly. Oh, you know well enough ! Green. (Aside.) Hang it — Hazel's been here — : told her all, and she thinks I've been an accomplice in this infernal business! (Aloud.) Don't, Dolly, don't! Dolly. Don't what, sir? Green. Suspect me — I'm not the man who did it! Dolly. (Ama.ced.) You are not the man who did it? Green. I'm not the man ! Dolly. (Aside.) Not the man who deserted me all these weeks ! He says this to my face! (Aloud.) Oh, you brazen rogue! (Runs to him.) Green. No, it's Barney — Barney O'Flynu who did it ! Dolly. Barney O'Flynn — who's she? Green. He isn't a she — he's a he! Dolly. What are you talking about? Green. Barney O'Flynn ! Dolly. What about her? Green. Hansf it— he isn't her ! Aft UL] H A Z B L K I R K li 73 Dolly. What is she ? Green. Look here — I .say Barney's a man : a male : a mascuHne — of the Irish gender — now, do you understand? (Crosses L.) Dolly. Oh — so you pretend it's a man that's kept you away all this time? Green. (Sitting L. of table.) Yes, and the most unmitigated ass of a man I ever saw — Dolly, if Hazel told you I was to blame — Dolly. (Sits R. of table: Jeans over.) Hazel told me? How could she tell me anything? Green. (Pncded.) Eh ? Dolly. I haven't seen her blessed face for a year — and will never see it again, Fm afraid ! Hasn't Hazel been Green. here ? Here ? Dolly. Don't you know? Green. Know what ? Dolly. N-nothing ! Green. Dolly. What do you mean by all this talk? Green. X-nothing — except — that is — I only mean to — to — hang it — to— Dolly. (Fiercely.) Pittacus, you're deceiving me ; something's hap- pened — don't deny it ! Green. I don't! 74 HAZEL KIKKB [Act nr. Dolly. (Seising his arm.) Where's Hazel ? Green. Bless me — that's what I wanted you to tell me ! Dolly. Then you don't know where she is? Green. No — ding it — 1 wish I did ! Dolly. Haven't you see her, then? Green. Oh, yes — that is, no — not since — Dolly. Not since when? Green. Well — if you will have it — since she ran away ! Dolly. Ran away — from whom? Green. From her — that is, Lord Travers ! Dolly. Her husband, you mean? Green. Y-yes — I suppose so ! Dolly. Suppose so? Don't you know he's her husband? Green. (Rising.) I don't — don't know anything — I only know that life's a nuisance — and it's a swindle to be born ! Dolly. (Kneeling to him as he sits in chair a short distance in front of door L.) Pittacus, Pittacus, what does this mean? You're hiding something. What's come to Hazel : why has she run away : why do you talk so strangely ? Green. Dolly, my darling — hang it — don't look so miserable, and I'll try to tell you all. You see — Act III.] HAZE L K I R K B 75 DUNSTAN. (Outside: calling.) Dolly, Dolly, child! Dolly. (Starting.) That's her father! He's wanting me— hurry, tell me all, quickly! Green. ]\j-.o, no — not now : he'll come and hear me and he must never know ! DuNSTAN. (Outside.) Dolly, I say — where are ye? Green. (Jumping up: getti)ig hat and gloi'es.) I must run, dear! Meet me outside near the old tree, where we used to talk so much — the moon is shining! I'll wait for you and when you come I'll tell you all ! Dolly. All right — I'll go to you the moment I can get away from my uncle ! DuNSTAN. (Outside.) Are ye never coomin', Dolly? Dolly. Yes, uncle — I'm coming! Green. Why don't the old bear coiue here to you? Dolly. Poor old heart — he's blind! Green. Blind ? Dolly. Yes — just after you went away — he got news of some kind, that made him awfully ill — for days he was out of his head- raving about Hazel, and when the fever went away, it left him blind ! Dunstan. (Appearing in door':i'ay: very old and broken.) Dolly, child —what keeps ye so long when ye hear me call? Dolly. (Going L. and leading him.) I had work to finish here, uncle ! 76 H A Z n L K I R K B [Act iii. DUNSTAN. (Sitting.) Give me my pipe, child — I have much thinking to do to-nig'ht, and nothing helps me think like my pipe ! Dolly. All right, uncle! (Goes to Green: sees him out of door: he points outside: seems to ask her if slie'll meet Jiim: she gestures, ''ves." He kisses her loudly and exits R.J (first music ready.) Dun STAN. What be that? Dolly. (Getting pipe and tohaeco: gets above table C.J What's what, uncle ? DuNSTAN. (R. of table.) That noise! DO'LLY. What noise? DuNSTAN. 'Twere a noise like a kiss, girl ! Dolly. Oh, it must have been the sputtering of the fire ! DuNSTAN. The only fire I ever heard spooter like that, be the fire o" love, lass ! Who's been here ? Dolly. (Carelessly.) When ? DuNSTAN. Joost now. Dolly. Here's your pipe, uncle — will I light it for you ? DuNSTAN. Aye, girl, do. (Bus. of lighting pipe.) I wish thee could light my eyes as easy as the pipe. Dolly. Ah, uncle, don't talk like that — I can't abide it ! DuNSTAN. There, there, child — I'm a weak old fool to bother thee with my burdens. Go, find thy Aunt Mercy — she be above stairs ; tell her I moost see her here, and then get to bed ! Act III.] HAZEL K J R K B 77 Dolly. All right, uncle! (Goiiii:^ L.) I'll not go to bed this night, till I've got news of Hazel! (Exits.) (Music.) (Ha:;cl appears outside : lookiug through icindox^'; opens easeiiient; pale and ragged; sees Dunstan; pauses.) (Music stops.) DUNSTON. (Laxiug doi^'u pipe zcith sigh.) There's no use, even the pipe can't coonifort me to-night ; I moost tell my poor wife a" now ! It's hard, bitter hard, to leave the aud mill — a pauper, too — boot it moost be done ; better starvation, death, anything, than more debt to Squire Rodney ! Oh, that faithless girl o' mine — my only bairn ; why should she have been her feyther's curse? Oh, my heart is heavy — would that I were dead, were dead ! (Sobs.) (Hasel moans.) (Starts up.) What's that? (She closes i^'indozc sha-rply: disappears L.J Who's there — someone at the window — who is it? (Feels ■zcay tozvards it.) (Enter Mercy.) ^Iercy. What art doin' there. Dunstan? Dunstan. I could ha' sworn I heard someone at the window ! Mercy. (Starting.) Someone at the window? Dunstan. Aye — I heard a noise like a moan — and then when I cried out — it seemed as though the v/indow were closed quick and sharp ! Mercy. (Aside: dozen L.) What if it were Hazel — she may be there longin' to return. (Aloud.) Come, Dunstan, sit down and let me speak to thee — perhaps I can mak thee oonderstand the noise at the window! (Goes and leads him to chair.) (Hazel appears as before.) Dunstan. (Sitting.) \\'hat dost think it were, wife? Ml-RCV. Dost know what day this be, sweetheart? DUNST.XN. Thursdav — I believe ! 78 HAZEL K 1 R K n [A.-t lir. Mercy. Yes. Thursday, the 10th day of October! DUNSTAN. Ah ! Mercy. This day two-and-twenty year ago our Hazel were born ! DuNSTAN. Hist, wife, hist — don't mind me o' that now ! Mercy. Why not, dear — that were a sweet day to us then ! DuNSTAN. Aye. but it is a bitter day to us now ! Mercy. i^^eyther, what if thy child were at thy door now — longin' to coom back to the old home? DuNSTAN. I'd bid her begone ! Mercy. Oh, Dunstan ! DuNSTAN. I'd point to these sightless eyes — an' say this is thy work — I'd point at thee and say, look at thy moother — a beggar wi' thy feyther in the street- — thy work, too ! Mercy. What dost mean, Dunstan? Dunstan. I mean, Mercy, wife, that the end has coom — I owe every- thing to Squire Rodney — an' debt to him I can bear no longer — I've sent for him to coom, this very night and take possession o' the mill — to-morrow you an' I an' Dolly, moost wander out beg- gars, but no longer beggars to the man our flesh and blood has wronged ! Mercy. Dunstan, can ye never forgive? Dunstan. Never! (Wind.) Strangers she choose — to strangers let her look, for she be dead to us forever! (Ha::cl, zvith moan of despair, disappears R., leaving zvindozv open.) (Starting.) Hark — that moan again? (Second music ready.) Act TIL] // . / Z /• L K J R K J-. 79 Mercy. (Going to "a-iiidnz^'.) Aye and see — the winflo-.v's open ! Oh, Dunstan, it may he our child — our Hazel! DUNSTON. Hoot, woman — it were the wind (Ji'iiui ) A s-torm is comin' up — Maister Rodney ull not be here to-nii^ht ! We'll lock up th.e mill and get to bed — clo>e the window, wife, and bolt the door ! (Mercy goes to z^'iiidoz^': looks out.) (Feels his zvaytodoor R.) Then get thee to bed, Mercy — I'll go once again over the old mill I've loved so long — Good night, wife, and mav the angels be wi' vou — this last night i' the old mill! (Music fill he is off.) ]^IERCY. An' my child may be out in the night — ht)meless and hungry ! (Third music ready.) Xo, no — I'll go for Maister Rodney — he will save Hazel and be able to break th.e iron of her father's will! (E.vifs; zceepi)!^.) (1 hird music.) Hazi-l. (Appears at zciiidoii'; slozcly opens door: steals wearily in: shivers over the fire.) Oh. how cold I am — but no fire can ever warm me again! (Looking around.) And this is home — the home that I have lost ; that I have cursed ! ]\Iy father's chair — how. often have I sat here upon his lap; my arms about his neck, and heard him sing his dear old songs — how often have I knelt here at my mother's feet and prayed! (Fourth music ready.) (Sinks on knees before chair.) as I can never pray again — oh. father, father. Heaven has heard your curse! (Music.) (She buries face zcifh sob in chair.) ( Dunstan appears R.. stop music.) DUNST.\N. (Gropes across room: places hand on back of chair at zvhich she kneels; Hazel recoils zcith a moan.) (He starts.) What's that? (Wind.) Nothing but the sobbing of the storm — Ah, it does me good to hear it — it's the voice of my own heart — dear old mill, my eyes will never more behold thee, and my hands have felt thy timbers for the last, last time! W^ell, God's will be done; God's will be done! (Gropes way to door L.: lifts hands in prayer: e.vits.) (Hacel follozcs him across room: re- mo^c'cs the chair from his path near door L.: kisses lapel of coat: z\.'hen he e.vits buries her face /;; arms on chair, front of fire.) (Rodney enters L. 2, E.: buttoned up.) 80 HAZEL K I R K E [Act III. Rodney. (Shaking hat.) A fearful night ! Dunstan sent for me to- night. I wonder — Is that you, Dolly — asleep? (Hazel starts: turns.) (Recognizing; recoils; kneels at her feet.) Hazel, here; back again — oh. Hazel, my angel — my poor suffering saint — bless you, for coming back ! YouVe brought life, salvation, joy once again to the old mill ! Haze;l. Oh, Mr. Rodney, don't kneel to me — don't speak to me — let me go ; let me go and carry the misery and shame I bring, away from here forever ! RODNKY. (Stopping her.) Let you go — never ! You bring misery and shame here — no, no — that's not true ! HazRl. Ah — but you do not know ! Rodney. Yes, child — I know all — I know that a villain wronged you — but the friend's heart ; the mother's arms ; the father's home are all open to ye now ! Hazel. Mr. Rodney, you know not what you say. My father but now a moment ago— declared that he would never own me in this world again ! Tomorrow he leaves this old mill, driven hence by my broken promise — by my open shame ! Rodney. No — that shall never be ! Hazel. .^ Alas, sir — who can prevent it now? Rodney. You, girl — you ! Hazel. I — impossible — he would never accept a service from such as I! Rodney. Yes, girl — one service — one that would pay his debt to me a thousand fold ! Hazel. What service is that? Act III.] HAZEL KIKKE 81 Rodney. Keep the old promise- — become my wife ! Hazel. And would you marry me now ? Rodney. Yes. girl, and be the proudest man on earth to call you wife. Hazel. Oh. sir— I— Rodney. I know all ye"d say. child ! Your heart has been another's — you would never give me a wife's love — I do not ask it ! Oh, Hazel, if you will but marry me — it is only as a beloved daughter I will hold you ; a daughter I shall have the right to cherish and to guard ! Hazel. Oh. what shall I do; what shall I do? Rodney'. Be brave — marry me — save your father — bless your mother; bring joy and happiness to us all again ; speak — promise you'll do this!' Hazel. Yes — on one condition ! Rodney. And what is that, child? Hazel. Call my father — he is blind; he cannot sec me. If he con- sents to let me pay his debt to you — you shall have my hand, and I will be your wife ! Rodney. (Kissi]ig her hand.) Brave girl — Heaven will bless ye for this. I'll call your father instantly — wait here — you'll see — all will be well once more ! f Exits L.) Hazef-. Another promise 1 have made this noble man — this time I'll keep my word, in spite of my own miserable heart ! fE liter Rodney L., leading Dunstan.) DUNSTAN. But. Maister Rodnev — how did ve get in? 82 H A Z E L K I R K E [Act ni. Rodney. Some good angel did it ; but enough of that — you sent for me — I was delayed ; I am here at last — tell me. what's the word tonight ? DuNSTAN. (Sitting as before.) Maister Rodney, for eight long years I've been in debt to "e — a debt I thought my child would pay — but — well, when she broke her faith and left us — I strove hard to niake the old mill earn enough to pay the money that! owed 'e ! Fever laid hold on me and left me blind — all hope of work for me is over now ! I liave boot one way to pay my debt, an' that is to gi' ye up the mill ! Rodney. And do ye think I'll take it? DuNSTAN. Yes, for I shall leave it — I owe ye too much a'ready — 1 an' mine have wronged ye in every way! I'll go do penance for my child — as a beggar in the street ! Rodney. No, Dunstan — let Hazel do penance for herself — let all be as it were before — let her pay your debt and marry me ! Dunstan. She marry you ? Rodney. Aye — you know she's free ! Dunstan. Free of what — of stains of shame? Rodney. Come, come, sir — no more of that ! Dun.stan. No, no — she can never pay any debt o" mine ! Rodney. Dunstan — hear me — Dunstan. No, no — I'll not hear a word ! (Hazel kneels before him.) If she were here before my face, kneeling at my feet, prayin' for my consent to marry ye — I'd tell her nay — never! I'd tell her she had wronged ye bad enough wi'out makin' ye the hoosband of a dishonored creetur like herself! (Hazel falls.) Act III.] H A Z E L K 1 R K li 83 Rodney. (Raising her up.) Silence, hard-hearted man — silence for fear the curse of Heaven should fall upon your iron will, and break its strength forever ! DUNSTAN. I do but my dut\-, sir, to you and my own pride! Rodney. So you'll not consent to have her marry me? DUNS'J'AN. ( Rising.) Never, sir — good night; I'll see ye out and bolt the door. Rodney. Xot yet — go call Mercy and bid her come here! DuNSTAN. What do ye want of her? Rodney. (Leading hi in L.) Good advice — that you don't know how to give ! DrXSTAN. A' reet, sir; I'll send her, but mind this, Mercy has given her word never to set eyes upon her child wi'out my consent! I warn ye, she'll not lie even to please you, Maister Rodney — and so good-night, sir! (Exits L.) Rodney. (Crosses to Hacel, i^'ho sits dazed in chair.) Hazel, Hazel, dear, don't grieve — Hazel, Hazel — what's come to thee? (Puts hand upon her. She starts as if in dream.) Hazel, speak to me! Hazel. (Rising.) Mr. Rodney — do you love me still? Rodney. More than life or all the world, but as a father — Hazel, dear a father, and no other way ! Hazel. Tf you love me, leave me — let me alone to-night — to-morrow will settle all for the best. I hope ! Rodney. Must 1 leave you. then ? Hazel. If you care aught for my happiness! 84 H A Z E L K 1 R K E [Act ill. Rodne;y. Rut we'll meet again ? Haze;l. I hope so — (aside) — m Heaven ! (Fifth music ready.) Rodney. Then good-night, my poor dear lamb — your mother's com- ing ; you can rest on her heart and be at peace ! Good-night ! (Kisses her forehead. Exit R.) (Music till curtain.) Haze;l. It is all over — I know the worst now — and I know my course — I'll go, and there in the water that brought so much misery to this house, I'll drown my sorrows and my sins ! (Going R.) Good-bye, old home — farewell, dear memories, sweet hopes — farewell, mother, father, friends — life! (Exit E.) (Pause; re-enter Dunstan.) DUNSTAN. Mercy has gone, Maister Rodney ; where can she be — eh ? Why don't ye answer? No one here; the house deserted — -what can it mean ? Met. (Outside.) Help! help! she's drowning, drowning — I saw her jump in — it's Hazel, Hazel ! (Rushing across bock from E.) Hurry! help ! help! Dunstan. (Iti horror.) Hazel drowning — dying, here, before my face — no, no — I'll save her! Ah, Heaven, I cannot — I am blind! (Falling on knees.) Oh, God, this is thy punishment — I was blind when I drove her out, and now when I could save her, 1 cannot see ; I cannot see ! (Falls to ground.) (Stop music.) (CURTAIN.) ACT IV. (Scene: Same as Act 5. Jug of zcater and mug on table C. Dolly discoz'ered asleep in chair near table. Enter Green icith cigarette.) Green. (Sings line of "Molly Bazvii;" calls gently.) Dolly, Dolly. Dolly don't answer — Dolly's in Heaven now — and yet who would sleep alway? Not I, nor shall she. How lovely she looks — yes, a veritable sleeping beauty — but her time has come — the prince is here, and will wake her with a kiss. Will you — of course she will ! (Kisses her.) (Dolly makes motion as though brushing azvay a fly.) She takes me for a fly — I'll fly it again ! (Business repeated.) Fire in the shape of a kiss is a failure — we'll try smoke ! (Puffs smoke in her face.) Dolly. (Azcakes with a snee.'^e ; jumping L.) Pah — smoke — where's the fire? Green. Here — in my breast — consuming my heart for you ! Dolly. Oh, Pittacus, I'm so glad you've come; I've got so much to tell you — such strange things have happened ! Green. Strange — let's hear it — I adore everything that's strange — that's why I delight in you ! Dolly. Xo nonsense now — listen and explain if you can! Green. I can explain everything — except the power of a woman to make a donkey of a man. Dolly. Last night after I returned from my meeting with you — when you told me all about my poor dear Hazel — (Wipes eyes.) Green. Well ? 86 H A Z U L K I R K B [Act IV. Dolly. I found Uncle Dunstan lying here, unconscious, on the floor — I was terrified ; called for help ; there was no one in the house — even Aunt Mercy had disappeared ; gone off to Squire Rodney's house to meet that crazy creature, Met ! Green. What did you do? Dolly. You won't believe me when I tell you ! Green. No matter — tell me all the same ! Dolly. Well, sir. I carried that big man into the other room and laid him on the lounge myself ! Green. The tale is a tough one — but — (Feeling her muscle) — you may not now believe it — but I believe it nowl Dolly. Aunt Mercy came in soon after — we worked for hours until we brought him to ; we've been up with him all night, for ever since he came to consciousness, he's been out of his head ! Green. Out of his head — that's nothing when you're used to it — as I am ! Dolly. You are? Green. Yes, and you're to blame ! Dolly. What do you mean ? Green. It's very queer, but I've always noticed that while a man may loose his mind — like old pig-head, your uncle, without its affecting his heart — he can never have an affection of the heart, without running the risk of losing his mind ! Now, I say, darling, did you ever feel as though you were losing your mind ? Dolly. Nfever ! Green. That's because you've no mind to lose, I suppose ! A.t IV.] HAZEL KIR K E 87 Dolly. (Pitshiiis^ him off.) Not on your account, sir! Grkkn. There — forgive mc — I didn't mean it ! (Mercy a [spears L.) Dolly. Hush — my aunt ! Mkrcv. ( .-Idz'ancini^j At last he seems to be aslee]) ! What! ^"ou here, 'Sir. Green? Grkkn. I Eniharrasscd.J Well, Madam — no — that is. yes — 1 rather think I am ! AIkrcy. .Vnd Hazel — mv child — have you any news of her? Green. (Confused.) Well, you see — that is (Aside to Dolly) does she know the truth ? DOLF.Y. Nothing' froiu me ! Mercy. Well, sir — can't you answer me? Green. Yes, of course — that is. T conld — if you — T — we — only knew what you meant. Mercy. Ml, sir — something terrible has happened — T feel it in my heart, hut I'm so dazed with grief, I can't quite make it out. Last night Met appeared : told me Hazel had left her hoosband and could not be found. I promised to meet him at Aaron Rod- ney's house ; I went there late la.st night — neither Met nor Maister Rodney could be found. 1 hurried home and found my husband dangerously ill ! What happened while T was gone, T cannot say — but T think Hazel must have come and — Green and Dolf.v. fToiiether: eagerly.) W'ell, well? Mercy. T fear he heard her; had a fit of rage, drove her out again! and was struck down by the power of his passion ! 88 H A Z E L K I R K R [Act iv; Green. Impossible — if Hazel had been here she would not have gone without a word to you ! Mercy. It's hard to think it — and yet I cannot tell — cannot tell ! {Enter Rodney.) Ah, thank Heaven, Mr. Rodney, you've come — have you seen Hazel? Certainly— -here ! Rodney. Here? All. Last night — we were Rodney. to meet again this morning ! Where ? Mercy. Here ! Rodney. Then she i :s coming? Mercy. Rodney. Coming — has she gone? "' Mercy. We do not know ! ' Green. fStartiiii^.J Good Heavens — I have an idea ! Dolly. What is it? ] Green. I see it all — she's gone with her husband ! Mercy. ' Her husband? Green. He came down here to look for her ! When I returned to our lodgings last night, he was not there! I didn't mind it — for ever since she left him, he's had a fashion of wandering out at night till very late ! Rodney. Well, well, go on ! Aot IV.] H A Z E L K I R K B 89 Green. W^hen I awoke this morning, he was not in his room ! DUNSTAN. ( Outside ; calliiii^. J Water ! water ! Mercy. Hark — 'tis Dunstan ! DuNSTAN. (Appearing in dooncay: follozved by Joe.) Water! wattr! water ! Rodney. What does this mean ? Mercy. He's raving again ! Dunstan. Water — quick — I'm burning up! (Dolly gives him zvater.) This is the lake that burnest forever — remorse, remorse, remorse!. (About to drink; pauses: pushes zvater azvay.) Water — no. no, take it away — 'twas water killed her! Rodney. What's that he says? Dunstan. Hark ! I hear that cry again — Oh, God, save her, save her ; she's drowning, drowning ! , All. Drowning? Dunstan. liush — not so loud — see how sw-eetly she is sleeping! Mercy. fJl'itli c'-y.) Ah, I see it all — my child is drowned, drowned ! (Falls on Rodney's breast.) Rodney. No, no — it cannot be! (Supports Mercy to chair L.) Dunstan. Hush — not so loud, you'll wake her — yes. she was drowned — I did it; I held her till she died; I couldn't help it! Something forced mo on — what was it ? This hard, hard, hard heart ! Rodney. Horrible, horrible ! (Leans head on arms on table.) (Dolly zveeps on Green's shoulder.) 90 H A Z E L K I R K E [Aot IV. DUNSTAN. See, see — there she goes to the mill ; she heckons nie — yes, yes, I'm coming, coming, coming! (Starts toivard R.: Joe leads him.) Yes, take me to the mill ; the noise there will drown the awful voices here, here, here! (E.vits witJi Joe, strikiig fore- head.) RoDNUv. (Aside in agony.) And this is the bitter end of all — no, no: there's something still to do! (To Green.) There is a duty here for you and for me, sir— let us go! (They start.) Mercy. (Startini!; up.) Where are ye going? Rodney. To see Hazel — there! (Poinfiiii^ oif C.) (Met phu's pipe merrily, off I,.) Mercy. Hark — 'tis Met — 'tis Met, and he has news of her ! (Met rushes in R.) Hazel — where's Hazel ? She's saved ! Saved ? Yes — by her hoosband ! Her husband? All. Met. All. Met. All. Mercy. Where is she, lad — where is she? Met. Coming here with him — God bless him ! Green. How did he save her? Met. Last night when she fell into the river — I called for help and jumped in — the river was running strong, and when I caught her in my arms, she was unconscious — I was growin' faint, and beginning to despair — when I saw a man standin' oi'; the bank — T shouted, he heard, and plunged in — : A.i-t IV.] !i A Z E L K 1 R K E 91 RoDNIvV. (lO on, l)i"avc boy — go on ! Met. It was Hazel's hoosband — and ah — it's a stout heart and a strong- arm he has. He landed us both near Deacon Wood- ford's house — there we took Hazel, and there her hoosband nursed her liack to life — as she b.ad nursed him a year before! Mercy. Ciod bless liim — God bless him ! (weeps for joy.) (Hazel appears R.: folUnced by .■Irfliiir.) Hazicl. (Holdin;^ out arms.) ^lother! All. Hazel! Hazel! (All gather around her zAth expressiojis of joy and de- light : Met dances.) Green. Will you |X'rmit me? ( Kisses hand.) Rodney. (To Arthur.) You've won her now. sir — and I can't help l-)elievin|2^ you mean to right her wrongs. Arthur. Ah. sir — how can 1 right such wrongs as hers? Rodney. Ry making her your wife ! Arthur. My answer to that is this ! fGi-c'ing Rodney paper, who re- • tires up.) Ah, Green, this is a happy day, but T thank Heaven mv motlier never lived to see it ! Green What do vou mean ? Arthur. that wa Green. T told you of the shame that was overhanging our house ! You did ! Arthur. Well, I ordered my solicitor to settle my estate and satisfy every claim of Lady Maud's against my grandfather, if it took the last penny T had in the world ! 92 H A Z E L K I R K E [Aroken thv promise? Mercy. I've seen our child wi'out thy consent! 94 // A Z E L KIR K E ■ [Ac-r iv. DUNSTAN. (Starting up.) Seen Flazel? (Sinkiug back.) Yes, yes— T know, I know — thee's seen her poor, dear, dead face ; thee''-; not seen her — she's there above praying to God to forgive me — forgive nie ! Me;rcy. No Dnnstan, no — it's not her body alone I've seen, bnt hei sonl, too — shining in her eyes wi' hving love for thee — her feyther ! . DuNSTAN. She's alive — saved, then ? Mercy. Aye, Dunstan — by her husband, the man who took her frcni thee has brought her back to thy old arms ! (Hazel kneels before him.) ' Dunstan. Where is she — where is she ? Mercy. Stretch forth your hands and feel her face ! Dunstan. (Feeling Hazel's face.) Who's this? Hazel. Thy child — thine only child. Dunstan. (Cries for joy. Pulling her up on his breast.) Hazel. Hazel, coom, coom to my heart ! Rodney. At last, Dunstan — the iron of thy will has melted in the fiic of a feyther's love ! Dolly. Oh, Pittacus, my happiness is perfect now ! Green. You may not believe it — but so is mine — no — not quite ! (To audience.) Will you permit me? Thank you! 'Twas our way from earliest times of winding up the play A kindly custom — actors know its worth. Peace after pain, and after sadness — mirth ! You've seen to-night a conscientious man Afflict his soul, as only conscience can. You've seen the suffering he has caused and felt, Act IV.] HAZEL KIRKE 95 Ere yet liis iron will was forced to melt. YouVe giiessed the lesson we would fain instill, That human heart is more than human will. You've shed your tears ; pray now, let me beguile Your friendly faces of one parting smile. You've seen me drifting through this mimic scene, And turning everything — (Taking Dolly by hand; leading her forward.) — wellj one thing Green. 'Tis Nature's general and her favorite tint, And, therefore — well, I merely drop the hint. Green though I am — I've brought these lovers through. And what I've done for them I'll try and do for you! Don't brood on care ; the trouble that we make Is always hard to bear — and harder still — to shake. Smile on the world — the trouble that is sent. In patience take it as your punishment. For he wins who laughs — he does not care a rap-he ! .And so, like Pittacus, he's always hap-py! (CURTAIN.) )Ul B 1908 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS