L ^ Foil Honor's Sake. A DRAMA OF THE CIVIL WAR. IN FIVE ACTS BY LAWRENCE MOORE. For Hon^or^s Sake. A DRAMA OF THE CIVIL WAR. IN FIVE ACTS. BY LAWRENCE MOORE, •No.MllSJL!: 0.^ 1879. o> CHARACTERS. 3r TS4 Tom Ch4se, ) Law students in New York. Hal Vincent, f Old college friends. Col. Vincent, A Virginian planter. Mamie Vincent, His daughter — devoted to. Virginia and the South, Mr. Fitzhugh, Who believes Craft will conquer Honor. Hiram Chase, Tom's father — who hates Slavery. Mrs. Chase, His mother. Ruth, Their foster-daughter. Jake, Devoted to the Colonel and Mamie. Judge Vining. Gen, Moak, Miss Browne, Governess — who does not hide ber. devo- tion to the Colonel. Rosa, Mamie's maid. Marks, Accomplice of Fitzhugh. Molly, Waiter-girl. SYNOPSIS. Act I. Love Kindled. Scene — Restaurant Parlors in New York. Act n. Love Plighted. Scene 1 — At White Sulphur Springs. Scene 2 — 'I he same — a month later. Act in. Love Wounded. Scene 1 — At Col. Vincent's plantation. Scene 2 — At Tom Chase's home. Act IV. Love Trie.i. Scene — Battle Ground by Moonlight. Act V. Lovt^ Trimnphant. i Scene — At Col. Vincent's plantation. \ *^ . '■5VclI ,v' (Copyright, 1879.) FOR HOlSrOH'S S^KE. ACT 1. LOVE KINDLED. Scene. — Elegant restaurant parlors in iV. Y. Rear and front p>ds of War! (takts swordsman's at- titude, using his cane) if the days of chivalry were to come again, I should d<»re to hoi>e that I might prove the bravest knight who wins the fairest fair. (Makes a pass.) The Cap- tain tells mi" I hiive a very pretty thrust. [Makes .vnother pass, almost hitting Molly as she ent«-rg — MoJly makes an outcry ] Molly. — The Lord forgive ye, Mr. Chase, for strivin' to wound my poor heart! 4 70R HONOR S SAKE. Tom- — Noniense, Molly. You know I wouldn't hurt your kind little heart. Molly.— Ira afeared, Sir, [coyly] ye might hurt it widout thryin.' Tom. — No, it takes Hal to plague you — he'll be h«»re soon. Molly. — Isn't he full wf fun, though, for wan that has so much of the rale gintlliiy about him ? Tom. — How do you know "gintility" when you see it, Molly? Molly. — Shure, I can tell it as I do a potaty — by the looks o' the skin. Och, I've seen a plinty of gintility in ould Ire- land. Tom. — But I thought the nobility there were hated by the rest of the people. Molly. — Ah, no, yer honor, We like to have a few o' thira amopi; us It would be a poor bit of an island if it couldn't raise a few gintle folks Tom, — [Sitting down.] Come, Molly, bring a bottle of claret — and order our u«iual lunch. Molly — Yes, I'll bring it in a minute, Sir. [Aside: I think I know whose pictur he does be lookin' at — an' mebbe 1 can make sure.] Mr. Chase — sorra wan o' me knows if he has wan or not — but if he has, thin the puniest and shwa- test girl in all Virginia is Mr Vincent's sister. Tom. —[Sternly — with imperious gesture towards the door — Molly jumps b^ck frightened] Molly, go! We've talked too much already. Molly. — [ rurning to him, — with tones of real regret.] I beg yer pardon, Mr. Chase; 1 didn't mane to talk so much. [Aside, as she goes out] — Musha, how be frekened me! An' taix he's as g»>od a lord a« the other wan. But I knowed well enough about that pictur. I needn't run the risk o' me life to make sure o' that. [Exit.] Tom., — [Ta'^ing out picture] Yen, Mamie's name is sacred to me. [Ibises and pnces to and fro — looking at picture.] Lovely vision I To traiiBter this one fair face I gained the painter's skill. How I blessed your brother when he hung your picture on ihe wall — yet knew not how I worshipped ilr ! I blessed the artist who wrought the marvel! I bless- ed the sun that gave light for his work ! [Sits down agpin ] I tvish Hal would come. Somehow I'm always lonely unless at work. [Hal entem ] Alone in a great city! — Daily if this suggestive thought forced upon me ! FOU HONOR S SAKE. 5 -fi^a/.— Yes, too damnably sugrgestive, Tom. A loan — in a yreat city — is suggested so foifibly to my mind that I have ee- riously tlioiight of making a forced loan — a la Signor Corti- na, of Mexican-border fame, Tom. — For sweet Heaven's sake, Hal, spare the puns, and I'll advance the needful funds to settle poker debts. Hal. — Well, I'll spare the punts, if you'll spare the funds. But why saids't thou "For Heaven's sake," Tom? [Sitting down.] Tom. — I' faith, Hal, because I read last night a monkish legend that troubled my sleep; and in my dreams I saw St. Peter's gate bearing this inscription : "Abandon puns, all ye who enter here." Hal. — Then few can enter, Tom, when every poor devil's prayer must be "O, pun (open) to me. St. Peter!" 7bm.— Horrible, most horrible. [Enter Molly, with wine on tray."] Hal. — Why, how do you do, Molly? [She curtseys]. — Yuu're looking as tresh as the May. Molly — An' why shouldn't I, sir, wliin that's the very month it is? I couldn't look so in January. So don't be flatterin' a poor girl. [Goes off, hesitatingly.] Hal — Molly. [She stops eagerly.] Don't hurry. I read a German poet yesterday, who sang a song in winter— -in .January — to a certain Molly, and he said: W'lien ripe lips yield their fruit most rare — Ah, then what perfect bliss ! No strawberries or cherries, e'er So sweet as Molly's kiss. Ah, May, why should I pine for thee? The charms of Spring are still with me. Molly, — [Rising] I think I'll test his theory. [Dances around Molly, threatening to kiss her.] Tom. — Hal, look out! Beware that saw like piece of flum- mery about her neck. [She wears a ruff around the throat ] What do you call it, Molly? Mol. — It's a pickit fince, yer honor, to kape the boys from jumpin' over. [Hal and Tom latigh.] Hal — Well, well, you're a clever girl. And how you would astonish the triends back in old Ireland with your free Amer- ican ways. The old mother, if she's living, wouldn't know you. Mol. — [Sobbing a Httle.] Don't say that, sir. And, if ye plaze sir, don't spake of m^ poor mother. I'm thinkin' of 6 FOR HONOR S SAKE. her that oftei) now, that I can't help cryin' at tlie thought ot hen For if tlie Lord is kind I'll have enough saved agin the coinin' summer to bring her over— for she's a dear moth- er to me, sir — an' she's h<'en cryin' her eyes out to see me these sivin long yearn. You see I'm not the same happy Molly whin I tliink of her, sir. (Drops her head sobbing) Hd, I'm no beggar, yet. Hal. — [Quietly, but commanding) You must take it, Molly — f'r yotu" mothei's sake. Mol. — (Breaking down ) The Lord be kind to ye both — and yer mothers, too, and give thim the softest rockin' chairs in heaven. (Hurries oul.) Hal — N(>thing touches my heart so, Tom, as something that suggests my mother. And that reminds me — I had a glorious surprise to day. The Col. and Mamie are in the city. The little puss delights in surprises, and my message this morning was from her. And I've got an order thatem- l,)races you. Tom. — Embraces me? Charming — I mean impossible. — Please explain. Hal. — VVell, they stop only a day or two; and Mamie will liear all the Onera that's soinc:. So this eveninc: we are or- tlere(t out as her escort to hear Madam LaGrange, and must ineet them at the Fifth Avenue. Toin — I surrender unconditionally. We northerners never can resist southern dictation. Hal. — Well, I told them you were coming here to lunch. So they sent me to capture you. By the way, there's a five- minute njatter over at the office I want you to help me about. Step over with me, please. Then back to lunch; then to the Opera. (They go out through rear parlor; immediately the Col., Mamie and Rosa enter from side. Col. V, wears blue dress coat with brass buttons — light colored pantaloons — black satin vest — dark silk cravat, and broad-brimined felt hat. Mamie attired in elegant street costume. Enter Molly.) Mol. — Would you like lunch, sir? KOK HOXOB S SAKE. Col. V. — No, U'k early- yet, and weMl wait some friends; But you may bring us a claret punch. (Molly stares hard at Rosa — Rosa returns the stare with interest.) What an idea, M iniie, to corae over to surprise Hal again —or is it Tom this time, eh? But are you not tired, darling? Mani'e. — Just a little, papa. And you — too, look worn— ^ and I thought more than once to-day you looked sad. Are you troubled, papa, dear? (Mamie sits.) Col. V. — No, M iinie, but this travelling is a new thing for us — what a freak it was to take this lightning trip north Mamie. — Fes, it was. (Petting her father.) And you are such a (iear old Col., to eorae, and t)iiy me such beautiful dresses. But 1 want to shine at th6 Springs, you know, this season. Col. V — You couldn't help that, darling — but for whom? — not for that Fitzhugh, I hope, who followed us up here. Mamie. — Followed us? — why he said he came — to see about important business. Col. V. — He somehow makes it his business to see you, at every possible opportunity. But — I'll have no fear — my daughtt-rs heart will guide he. aright. (Col. V. waits around, looking at pictures.) liosa. — Miss Mamie, le' me put dis yere scarf ober yer shoulders. De Lor bress ye — sposin' ye'd kotch yer deff o' cold u|) yere — what ud all yer lubbers do den? he, he, he! [Puts scarf on Mamie's shoulders.] Mamie. — Don't call them lubbers, Rosa. They wouldn't feel flattered. ' . . •"'"' Hosa. — Well, I know dey'll all go crazy fur ye — ^jes like dey did las' sunnuer. So I'se goin' to call 'em crazy lubbers. An' I'se gwine to tell ye one bressed ting mo' — Miss Mamie — I don't like ye to haf dat niggah-lookin' fellah — dat Fit/, hugh — roun' ye so much. He's de debbil—sJio ! (Molly enters— with punch — hears Rosa's emphatic ^''Deb- bil, sho"" — gives a little scream and runs back ) Mamie.— Oh, Rosa, that's foolish. You dislike him be- cause you heard him swearing at the Yankees for running ofl" slaves. But the Col. talks the same way, you know. '' Jiosa. — Now don't ye go fur to make me mad, Miss Wa- mie. Ye knows I don't kar no mo' 'bout de Yanks den ye does. An' ye knows if I wur free dis bressed night I'd i;eb- ner leab you air de Cunnel, But dat fellah's de debbil, sLoI 8 FOR HONOR S SAKE. T feels it in my finger-nails shore's I see um. (lipids up her hands — clenching fingers.) Mamie^ — That's one of your superstitions, Row. Yon know I don't believe in such things. Rosa. — It's de Lor's own truf, d«n, Miss Mamie. I neb- ber made any mistake. A*i' I alius can tell a pusson dat's got de debbil in 'im. (Molly enters hesitatingly and puts down tray.) I feel jes like I wanted to claw 'im, (Rosa claws the air savagely — Molly shrieks and rushes off.) Mamie. — (Rising and app oaching her faiher — -taking his hands tenderly) Papa, dear, tell me, won't you? Col. V. — Tell you what, my darling? Mamie. — No, no, — you can't decieve me — even for love's sake. Something grieves you. Col. V. — It is only that some strange fancies h'iv« haunted me to-day — and I may have looked a little sombre. It is an anniversary. Mamie. — Papa, dear, I should count it an injustice, if you denied me the privilege of sharing your griefs as well as your joys- Col. v. — Yes, yes, I know. And I think your light spirit will help banish a shadow that has so haunted me to day — the fear that my folly might have blighted your life. (Pla- ces chairs — they sit.) I'he story is simple — 1 can tell you while we are waiting. — While I was in Europe I fell in with a young Louisianian, who fascinated me with his graces of mind and person. He seemed indeed a twii;^-spirit to my soul, and we became devoted friends. Alter our return t saw nothing of him until he came to visit me, brmging his only child, a beautiful boy of five years, whose mother had died of fever in New Orleans only the month before. jdamie. — Poor boy — never to know a mother's love. Col. V. — His father was taking him abroad, intending to devote himself to the education of his son. (Fitzhugh and Marks come to rear door unperceived — Fitz. stops surprised — After listening to the next faw sentences they retire unno- ticed.) Little Clarence loved you at ©nce--and you, little coquette, seemed lo smile upon him all the wealth of your little heart. I was young and romantic, then, so one day his father and 1, with hands clasped over your heads, solemn ly pledged your future marriage. Mamie. — And was that all, papa dear? He would be a FOK uoxgr's sake. 9 glorioas lover, I'm sure — Clarence — what was his name? — And when is he coming to claim his promised bride? CqI V — Clarence Merrivale — aud \i the boy belied not the man, he would truly have been a glorious lover Without pledge on our part he would have drawn you uito the depths of his henrt, as the sea drinks in the moon's radiance. Mamie. — How poetic, papa. What a glorious loeer jou must have been. But when shall I see my mysterious k'liirht? Col V. — (Rising.) Heaven forgive me for rejoicing that you can never see him. I received a letter from London, saying they were to sail next day for a Mediterranean port. It was the last word I i:(>t--the sh p was I'ever seen again. Mamie — (Rising — putting up her head and kissing her fa- ther ) l*oor papa! It makes you sad. But Fm glad you told me. And since it has grieved you so, we'll never speak uf it Mgiin — never again But I will keep myself for my boy- luver — and for you Col. V. — Seriously, Mamie, do you like this Fitzhugh much, who seems so devoted ? M.s'a. — (Coming up to Mamie) Miss Mamie — dey mug' be Kings nn' Princes up yere. Mam,ie. — Why no they're not Rosa. How stupid! Hosa. — (Indignantly.) What fur dey have white ladies fur waiters, den? — See dat gal goia' roun' — she aint no uig- gah. 'i'ink I can't see nuffin? Col. V. — (Entering hastily.) This is too bad, Mamie. — They left just as we came. Come, we'll probably find them waiting at the Hotel. ' ''" Mamie. — W h^t a stupid schemer I am, papa,— edt to think of that. It mast be Fate. Come, Rosa. (They go out. — Fitzh. and Marks enter ) JPitz. — Mark8-T-she accepted my attentions down at the Springs — and I came up here only to be near her— to hear her voice. Why should she speak words that rouse all the demon in my nature. With her love I could forget all the blackness of my past life. And she— detests me. Marks, I swear — sooner or 1. ter, she shall be mine. Heaven gave me a crafty brain — and Craft will conquer even Honor. Marks. — It is a hard go to be detested by the girl you — 10 FOR honor's sake. Well, Fitz, (\ti yon really love tlie girl — or is it a liumlrfd or two of niirujerf you're after? Fitz — Well, there is a d'vilish tine lot of ni ith a pen — you know I've tlone business of that sort once or twice before — and if you give nie the Col's signature, I'll give you ihe original <()ntract hi- was telling her abv)Ut — that binds her to you — Clarence Meniv^le. — She'd never know the ditference — and she'd keep it from her father for his sake — and marry you for Honor's sake — Sef ? (Pokes him in the side.) JFitz. — Shaking his hand.) Well thought of, ol'' boy. — The girl's mine. You see I've got an ally in the camp al- reidy — a sharp Yankee Governess. (Hal and Tom enter — Molly also comes in ) Tom. — Now for lunch, Molly. — Yt s, that was a [>retl> fair speech we heard last night, Hal. VV%)uIdii't there be free- dom down south for such speeches as I hat? Fitz. — [Interrupting.] You happen t<» know d— d bttleof the South, sir, if you believe any lymt;, hypocritical Yankee can ever make a speech south of iViason & Dixon's line. H'll. — [Indignant] I happen to know that n<)t all Sou'h- erners are ungentlemanly swaggerers —as I know that not all Northerners are cowards. As I was about to say, Tom, the couiitry is in imminent dauger of being talked to deat,h. The Southern demagogues and N(jrthern fanatics have tp gather managed to work the nation into a perfect feVeV 7bm.--rm afraid you're about right, ^ud 1 fear we, can- not break the fever without copious, blood Wtvuig- TT^i'w and Hal sit.] ."''■' ',;;'•> JIal. — ^If it comes to that, old boy, we'll yreak the Union ^ith the fever, . • / Fitzh.- [Talk.ng ^with Marks— loud enough to be over- heard J 'I hey breed some devilish ha|ndsom^ niggers rih(f re, 'I'tellyou 'r "!'•.■'. ''-'"• Tom.—\i.m\'i say that Ha], for I liaye a C()fnvi(Jti.f).n as 8tion|^ as life itself, that the day must come 'yhen iio^, Vir- ginia, and not Massachusetts, shall claim our dearest iyv« FOR honor's sake. 11 and service,- but the ixraiid old Union — perhaps scarred and niaitned, but with her flag unreiit and ennolded. Fitz. — [Turning insolently — Mai is seated so as to face him.] Fll b(- d — d if IM hsten to this cheap, political cant. Hal. — [Lookinir Fifzliu-rh squarely in the eye, cowes him-- thin to Tom ] Yon tnlk well, my boy,— you'd makf a pow- erful |)reacher. By the way. North and South they arc the fiercest Un on h.it« rs. Bui you may count on a rampant preacher for the best man to s»!t on a fight — when he is to stand by and see others do the fighting. [Fitzhugh and Marks rise.] Marks. — Are th(? nigger women as liandsome down there as tht^ yaller gals in Louisiana? Fitz. — A he.ip liamlsomcr. And oje Virginny's got some of the slickest whitf w<»inen you ever saw [llal, excited — lialf rises.] And i find that wotnen there are the same as women the world over. VVe ^Southerners know the world — and hate your canting, lying Yankee morality. We are not fcuch hypt)crites as to claim there are any women upon earth lio .'■ ^iin< is unassailable Hal. — [Springing at him with drawn revolver.] Down on your knetsi Down! [Fitzhugh sinks down with Hal's hand on ins thro?t.] Now 8walk)w the black lie that befouU my mother and sister. Eat your words, you lying vilbun, or your tongue shall never wag again. I swear it. By the an- gels in heaven, I swear it! Fitz — [Gasping.] Yes, y-es. It was only a joke. Hal. — [Without 1 »wering piwt^)!.] You infernal libel on manhood — 1 mean no joke ! iSpeak — or Fll — Fitz. — [In great trepidation.] Oh yes, yes. — It wasn't true, 1 bed-. . ;. ' . ■ ;, ,, , :,v,,,; , M ,. ;• :-.i|M', .M.; ^ ■ ' Hal — [Slowly loweriiijS^itheire'VbJireir.]' Now go, and nev- er ape the gentleman again. [Fitz. liurries towards the door] i ■ ZTa/.-r-If y<»u have lesiough genuine'Southern blood to wish satisfaction, I shall be happy to answer your demand. [To s sea card which falls on fliMtc, as Fitz. and Marks hurry out.] Jiittnii cuKTAlUr ^ALLS. ■ ■ifvit ': Txl ovi)i J'iil>ijiu:) nt\ fH'jhiH'ul ; tut ^h^ ♦'■ » '>|i oi fiouin OR b?>ll f»':>I! ,f>riii\i :l . . ,;>/()| Ollf., )'nh!uo?» 9il i\ni3 t''"''''*^ '"" '>ti(l^? (iitiiuniw n a .;...; •,...;,( .. Ma- mie. Ef I thort the Lord would send him a dcjse uv chain- lightnin', I'd git down on my shanks an' pray right sma t, [Sees Rosa.] lluilo, Rosie — pike over yrre — woan'tye? Rosa. — What fur ye set dar'an' gib me orders fur — eh? Jake'. — Cum, Ro5ie — I don't want ter quar'l to-day — I want ter giv ye a little luv-talk. Rosa. — Go way dar — ye knows I nebber listens — Jake. — Rosie, I want ter speak ter ye o' Miss Mamie. i?03a.— [Stopping.] Well, wot yer got ter say 'bout my Missis? Jake. — Cum, Miss Rosie [Rosa mollifies] we're right good friends arter all. Fur ye're a loikely ijal, 5liS8 Rosie — an' ef I'm not exacly a 'ristocrat, I'm a dog-gone iight better 'n thet measly critter thct's loafin' ronn' Miss Mamie. all the time. Now karn't we do suthin' ter fix the varmnnt? Roia. — Dat's de truf, Jake. IU's---ugh ! I'd like to claw 'im [Claws the air] But we can't do nuffin. Jake. — Yer see, Rosie, he wants ter marry Miss Mamie — an' mostly fur the nigs. Besides, he couldn't give her a right clean, pure love, ef he tried. He's hed so much to do wuth low down wimmin, white an' yaller, thet he couldn't preshi- ate sech a woman ez Miss Mamie. But bless her innocent POK honor's SAKE. 13 heart — she karn't understand that. An' I believe the out- daciou8 catamount's gittin' euni power over her. liosa.—Yes, Jake. 1 dun made dat observrafion — an' I dun !Tub Miss Mamie warnin' — liut she's so proud and fear- less, dat she jeB laff at me. So we can't do nuffin'. Jake. — Thar's one thii'ig we kin do, Rosie. 'When we find he's got her oiF alone a worryin' uv her, we kin jei drap down on 'em sort o' happen-chaiice, an' kinder head off his dingnation palaver. When a feller's cornered up a gal, an'B tryin ter say his purtiest, it breaks up his plans the measliest ! dici:d in ray favor. i ;■ ■ i . / Resa — C^an't be, Mi8», I nebber was pred-i-juced in no- 'boddy's favah. An' I didn't say nuffin what isn't ao. It's FOR HONOR 8 SAKE. 15 true as Baptis pieachiri' in de C.iroline. Fur Caesar toll me^ drtt Tim tfll him dut when ye dun tuk yer steps in de ball room las' nitrht, all dc youiig g(Mnmen — an' S(*n\e o' de vie ones, too — look jjone iistrac; an' a sinkin fru de flo'. Monde — There Rosa, you may go ?iow. Isn't she an arch flatterer, Mr. Fitzhugh? '(Rosa goes) F'itz. — Why do you not let me praise you with the same freedom ? Ma;,tie.- No, no, Rosa does take liberties, I confess. But when she was a little pickaninny we p'ayed together*, and I know that all her fond exaggeration comes from the iieart. J^itz. — So too, Mis:«i Vincent, every word of praise that I might speak — if you hut gave me liberty (taken attitude) would come fr.e^ too white. Mamie — No quarrel, now Jake. — How many trout did you catch? But I can never believe you — I'll ask papa. Jake. — Yes, thet's what my Sally sed whin I axed her to have me — "I'll hev to ax par." Yer see Sally hez book-bree- din', so she says par iust^^d o' dad — which are the nat'ral way. ..;.,;/'..,,. Col. V — Don'tj ftartiJaikfi.iOn his stories, MAtnie. Jake, you and Rosa had better go along to the Cottages. / \u' Hosa. — Jjet him gwo by hisself. 1 don't walk, along* iwid no po' white trash. Jake.--Wa.], Miss Thundergnst, (handing basket), tote this along to Dinah, an' I woant bother ye. Rosa. — Go long widye — tote it yersef. I tends on qauLity folks, I duz. (Tosses her head defiantly.) Jake. So thet's yer Christun sperrit, ye black hypercrit. One o' these days I'll tend on ye (laughing.) I'll bury ye; Rn' I woan't pile more'n six inches o' sile on yer bones, so ye'll hev a right easy time gittin' up ter the resumrection. (Rosa runs on and Jake follows.) Col. V — Shall we follow, Mamie? I must make my»elf presentable. Hal may come tonight. Mamie. — Yes, papa, I think they must v«ome topflight. You go in please. I'll sit here awhile and watch for ihem. [Col. V. kisses her and retires. Fitzhugh enters from oppo- site side.] 11 • ,; JTitz — [Aside.] She's alone. I'll plAy'iny Jd$t oard. — 4 [Aloud.] Miss Vincent, you seem io a tender mood. Will you not be merciful? FOA' honor's sake. y^ •^Mami);. — [ColcHy] I do not undergt^rid iyx^i. ,,.,f.> Mtz. — [Passionately.] And yet daily; yiotfi lv4ye.,§e^e hqii?; I admired, adored— '! ' »". •? . r,' v*/?;.. • f \ MamiM. — [Flising.] Mr. Fitzhugh^ lyou forget yowrselifprJ. Will leave you. : . ^ ., , ;, ,;., < .,.,.,«j ii^/^2. — iStpppinf; before her.] Yuu , niu.st jstayrr . Mm Mamie. — [Proudly.] 3fust, sir? . . . .,..■ ' i^/]f3.—^[Altnoet fiercely.] Yes, must. Your honor — that you rate so hiirh — deniatids it. And [ ma ;. i {\ .wi.,,,. i^^7z;-^ Because I yielded to n)y Joy#..i J bpped tt{0 wjfi\you urithuut revealirtg my secre.t. And noKf I cur^^ niysgifith^it my rash love has so wounded yod. . ■ : ; '. , illtrwi>.-^G>h' 'no^noi Givfe me time to thii)!?; You may be — an — ' ' M73.--Imposter ! Would to heaven I vrere. I wouldnra- ther be scorned from your presence than lo grieve you so. •Ie. — It must be Fate. , . r i. Fitz. — Yes — it took my father's life — but gave me that which is dearer than life — the privilege of claiming you — ray beautiful — Mamie.— H\xt,h — speak no more — leave me. No— -stay— Oh, God, is this a dream? [Kneeling.] You ar^ bra|Te,_gen- 18 FOB honok's sakb. erouR, — you will forget me. I cannot love you. jOh ^spare liiie — sparft my father I \ I^itz. — Forgive me, sweet angel. Rise, I heg yiou. [She sits.] I'll leave you to your thoughts awhile. [G )insj:.] Remember I ask only your luuid — your love I'll win. You must yield to fate— for Honor's sake. [Retiret — Col. V. en- ters from oppovsite side.] Mamie.- [Rushing and throwing herself into his arm*.] Oh, papa— -Dear papa CoL V. — Bless you, darling, you tremble— You mustn't sit brooding in this way Come, stroll with me awhile, daughter mine. [He takes her arm and leads her off.] I ftar that Northern knight whom your l>rother brings has touched the heart of my little princess [They retire— In a moment Hal and Tom enter in travellint; dress.] Hal. — Here we are at last, r(.m. Ah, there's Jake. Hul- lo, Jake, how'dy? How's Sally, and the younkers? And the Col., and Mamie, and Nelly? f/a^e.'— [Rushing in from side.] Hi, Mr. Hal, Tm glad ter see yer. They're all well — An' yer're lookin' right smar$. [Shaking hands.] Goramighiy! it duz me good — clean, plumb through. ITal. — Well, Jake, here's my friend, Mr. Chase You muot give him a wtilcome. 2uin.— Ye.«!, Jake — and I'm glad to know yon — as I am to know any friend of Hsd's here— (takes his hand.) e/aA;«.— How'dy, Mi*. Chase. I'm powerful \i\\\<\ ler see yer. I 'l«w ye're one o' the right sort, ef ye are a Yank. (Releas es his hand — holds it up, and looks at it.) Swe yt?re, Captin, yer'.se got a dingnation close grip fur a city chap. Hal. — So he has, Jake. Tom's a f)rize gymii.ist — ^I gave him the wink. But what makes you think he's a Yankee? Jake.— {To Tom.) I sees it all over ye, Captin, But yei're one o' the right sort. An' most 6' the Yanks. ;i\re about th!e measliest critters^ — '■'■>. -ivi' Hal — Look out, Jak^. Tom may challenge, lyou. [Hal and Tom sit.) 'Jake. — (Laughing.) Wal; I don't want ter fight no dooel '#ith the Capt'in. But probly he'd say the same, ef he see thet clock my Sally bought, uv a blue-blasted' Yankee pidaier. ' !l . '' jy^W.^Iplead'guilty to the Yankee peddlerSjJake.. )They- FOR HOKOR 8 SAKE. 19 're a poor lot. But the Yankeeji are ingenious fellovrs, you must ndtnit. e/a^-e. — Yes, they kin make 'ooden nutmiegs, bass-'uod hams, an' clocks that woant go — an' nuthin' much else. l^om —That may he true, my good fellow; but they make them mostly ior the Southern market. No other people are grnen enough to buy them. Juke — Wal, Mnjor — I owes ye one on thet. But T reckin I couhi whip ye et' ye challenged me. Ye nuver yereori). llu|!Qj^tMAr ,s the CuiiDf'I. (Jjldtwi- (v')l. v. — Mvm"ie follows.) '• '^,. Col. V-^U ii» my boy, I'm ivjoii-el t<» see you. And Tom — may I cnll you T»^>iM< 4-o.yfXi |i;^re„,8i»-?-rl ^jy^^ JiiO" welcome to Virginia, ; , / .:;-.jii .r' i,' ijr! nM.>: 'iil i i..; /.'vv . T»n —Thfxuk yon, Col, I shall , lore Y'rwiiff, 1 Hm.8ii,i:|e. ./a^e.--[ Aside-.] I,k;iowe4.hi, w ir the ifii5)it sor^ ,.v..\. f, JUamie — [Alt<.'V .kissing Hal.] And is therp rppinTpr m^ little welcome, Mr., — may.I: cji|ll you , rojii xlMWh ,.l;ierf.> ?>V* f^ [The Col. and II.-il converse aBide.] ., ,^ \ ;,,,, /. . ,^ .,\ yom— Your voice will make inu.siQ x^'.jjiy ho,iyely.^^i^^^p>e. But is your \velcome, then, so little? ,i .., ;,. // . •.\>'.V- Mamie — No, not little. 1,'m delighted ;1,o,stH;,y«^lK ', (p**- quettishly.) There are positively no pleasant people Jj^^re this season — it's a delight to see anybody. ^ /.^.' Tom(Dubiously ) Indeed. And how. 6»v^,y.i»ivenli^vy^ied •the dullness? , ■ ,.,,^ffnnU — Well, I sleep, a trreat deal— and ride every day — and sometimes gy out with Mis.s Bi-owne luid sister Nelly for wild flowers — but I hate botany—don'tyou ?— And ih^ thorns and bushes never leave me in peace. .. . , ^ Tom. — (Gravely.) The Thorns and Bushes— rold Virgin.ia families, I suppose. How wrong of them. Are.the yoyiVg men then so ill regulated down in these parts? !,, Mam'>e.— How charmingly absurd ! But you're clever, and— (turning to Ha] — giving him her hand) Hal, I'm so glad you've c(mie — and, (giving, the other to Tom — as Fitz- hugh appears on left) I'm glad you've come, too — Tom. Fitz — (Aside.) Curses on them. So he's her bro.ther. Then this game's up. But I can wait. My time'U come yet —you d — d pretender to immaculate virtue . , (Inner curtaif<,falls— rises again on the same scene — a^x^^onth ■ rt"-^ i; I later.^ , j ,,(^,fj /ii^ h\ .V- '-. >>:] )i,;:jit .,•.,,. ScKNB-2.,y -,,,;,. |/„ A .vi«».MiT'. [Enter Tom and Mamie.] Mamie — Tom, I do not see why you should speak so ill of Mr. Fitzhugh, when you never saw him. In his letter from Richmond he apologized for his abrupt departure, say- ing a night's, reflection had convinced him n« was a coward in revealing his secret— and that, to make amends, he would leave me free. — Now was not that noble, Tom? I could al- FOR llONeR'^ SiAKE; 21 most like 'him fi>r that. And I think you ought to be a lit- tle fjrntefnl to hitn. ;■ , v//-. . ,i ; . i.,;.i,i;, Tom. — T should nt>t:h^ive>«p<>keh so^^^Mamiie/ - ForjiJ wonld not liiive you less true to others in hfiiig true to me. But I cannot believe liis was a bnjve, sincere naturtj. Else , he would have revealed himself at first — or, having rcgolved to keep his secret, nothing should have torn ,it fron) him. — [They pass on — the Col., enters on one side-t—then M's« 15r'er in hand.) Listen, papa. (Reads:) Swe'Jtly cruel, the fetters I wear, Ma belle Aimie : For, meshed in a web of beauty untold, ,^ When heavttn is starless, and Time is' old. My heart shall lie chained in thy ^hihthg bdvrf ^^ '' Forever and aye. ' ""' f': That's about haii-, papa — my hair— is it not beautiful? Col. V — (Toying with her hair.) Yvs, Mamie, it isbiiau- tiful. ^ ;.. ■.. . Mamie. — Oh, you know I meant the versea^ToiJi itiftde them last night. 'Col.V. — Tom, my boy, you ore pretty far gone. .'Tofh- — I only i-egret, Col., I must be so much fartherg'oile to-morrow —but Hal and I must bid you s;ood-by. FOR uonor's sakb. 23 Col. V — Well, don't remind us of it, Tom. But yuu'll return to U8 Ht Christmj»s-tlme. Then in tlio spring you'll oome aijiiin — and Biy little bird must fly northward. (Kisses Mamie.) But I must leave you. Shall you outwatch the nightingales, as usual? Good night, my happy pair. [Th« Col. and Miss Browne retire — Ti>m and Mamie sit.] Mamie. — And are you truly happy, Tom? 7bw.— Very, very happy. M you, need help— should fumiiie i-vt-r bliljht, oi^'fi-ver CMimDnie, oi a fi»ri^ijj;ii foe inVadc ! — the Novth wrll spnngllo i!i<' -.ud of the beiiUlitul sister whosf very ehidingR aihi'iffihll > ;uh' dt^;ir- er than others' virtues Genth'ineii, let us'VwiO^dvMi our se'c- tionat \tv\i\f (tiilil it lakes in our whole oonrntfy unii»'(i Ht»d iiiseparaltic — tht- freeman's' hope and pride-^'i^etv eel land o'" liberty!" — Gentlemen, With a love that ' *fefe(pfi in South and NorUi, I |)ropo.'.e — "Massnehusetts and \'VT irivf I" 11 pledge the beantitul South in the Union But i-ur cwinuiy cannot tear out lier very heart — thf ^vann, thi-ol»hing S nth — and cast It from her. Do not ask the ple-.'gt' of ini-, Maini«^, dar- ling— I would not ask it of you. Mamte — Then call me not your d.iriini: - 1 drmand tlra you drink the pledge. (Toni hesitJitiDg'V, — partly raises gl gs —lets it fall ) ' • , ' JIainie — For niy sake, Tom, (Tbrows herself on her knei s ) Tom, dhrling, Pli in.tKe y u tnv hero — my souPs idol — I'll give you the ti-uest ioVe of a wtrin, S lUlhern heart. For my sake, Tom, ilariiii>; (Pom kneels kisses her hand — half raises glass —then drops it with deti niiinatioii.) 7bm.— Great God, M imiH, s|»;ire me! Y -u rend my soul! Have you no thought of ?«y Itouoi-? JIaniie. — (Starting up wihlly — Torn remains kneeling.) Yes, and of mine. My honor will f>il) d me to wed a man who will n«^t fight for ViriCini i. Atrd I soora the man who is her foe. ('i'oin'H ..1 »ss tails.) Mr-. Chase, hi^reafter we are not even friends — hut enemies [ fom drops his he id on his knees — ijuivers with emotion.] 7>)r,<. — [Appealingly ] Mamie, God fn-give you for tread- ing on a he:irt. Mamie. — [Enraged.] Yes, I would trample on a coward's heart. 7b//(.[l{isiiig proud y ] Ko, not a coward's. Hal --Don't say coward's, Miimie. Torn. — Time will defend me. [Folds his arms ] Murn'te. — Yes, time will cure your woumls. Go, choose a bride trom your milkficed, watery-eyed maidens of the North You couM never mate with Southern blood. I scorn you! [ Toin bows his head on his breast — and writhes with feeling.] [Uuriaiu falls — rses immediately on same scene — same apart- ment as befu'e - time next morning.] (Enter Tom and Ilai. Tom dressed for travelling — Hal in grey — inilitarv caj), with havelock ) Hck:i(le. — And yet she lovei yon, Tom. , Torn. — Wouhl to God I were sure of that, Hal, — that it i« only the maddening excitement of the hoar. , jial, — Ay — it is maddening, Tom. It is ghjrious.'^^If the Star-Spangled Banner inspires you fellows up tht-re as Dixie does us — we'll liave a grand old fio^ht. Only yesterday tlie Sumter news — to day my troop musters. (Enter Jake — dressed as a trooper.) Jake. — Yes, Cap'n Tom, an' we'll pick off the Yanks loike turkeys at a shootm' match, I hope ye'U send down Yanks enuff to make it lively fer us, Cap'n lorn. We want a little lively sliootin' now tlie game's called. To7n. — I won't send ihem, Jake, 1\\ come. JiriA-g.— Thet's the word, Cap'n Tom. But I'm -afeared thar's not many o' thet sor up thar. I reckin the heft on 'em '11 pike over inter Canada, to live along wuth the nigs tliey- 've run over thar. Hal. — No, Jake, they'll give us work enough to do. (To Tom.) I'm not superstitious, Tom — and I wouldn't lose this grand baptism of blood for all it may cost, — but I some- how feel I shall never see the end of this war, — and I only hope that I may fall lending a cavalry charge. 7bm. — Don't say that, Hal. I may well pray for it — but not you. JIal. — Should Mamie ever be left — will you — protect her? To7n. — She scorns me, Hal. Hal- — Yes, but suffering softens the heart--and she loves you even now. (Turning to Jake.) Jake, we swear war to the death against every Yank but Tom, here. Kemember — if the fortune of war ever gives you a chance — befriend him — for my sake. We'll say good bye outside, Tom. Jake. — [Stepping up and taking Tom's hand.] Yes, Cap'n, this yere light's got ter be tit out. But yer're one o' the right sort, ef ye ar a Yank. An' if ole Jake uver gits the chance — I swar by the livi!)' God, he'll guv ye his life, ef ye need it, fer Cap'n Hal's sake, — an' leetle Mamie's. [Jake goes out — Mamie enters — they bow coldly.] Mamie. — Hal tells me you are going., Tom.— Ye8. Vt:',,.)/] i,,i, :. . , (1:7/ , 'v Mamie. — I have — a word-r-to 8a,j ^p ypu. , , 7bm,— If you cuispd me, I think /youi;,]vpiojp^, would still be music in my ears. 0, Mamie, mus^t it be? ,.',( T .• , Vr AJamie. — V\ e must never me^t agAin. ; , ,'t ' ' fi Tom.. — ^Yes, I wan too happy, I will not , a^k, you to be merciful. la. time I hope.vye .may,bol,h be just. , And I have MO harsh word to say. — (P.assio»tely.) But ihjd bolt of ,iate has shattered Hiy heart Throiigh all my student years 1 felt an unvioicesd lougir^g that was an insp^^ration-; I toiWd- — not for wealth — not for fame — but to make myself a worthy offering to tlie fair creature of my dreams., All^these years I loved a faultless woman who answere*^ i^^efy crs^ving of* my soul tor the beautiful. , , n 7 Mamie. — (In surpriie.) You'loved, [ Tbm. — One I had never seen l?ut in my, ^isibn^. iTorviiei' Bake I sougfit to mak« myself skilled in every art — ^hat 1 might interpret to myselt every phase of her beingj-ahswer its every longing. VVhen I saw you that all top brief (Com- mencement-day— youv effulgent beauty — your grace of mo- tion — marked- you as the true Goddess. X trembled, with the great hope that filled my soul. It grew— 7it strengthen- ed — vuow it dies. O God, it is hard. (B(j>t^'S his head.) '^ _ Mamie — (Softly) Toin? (He looks \ip-rra bugle ish^'ard — It turns the current of ht'r thought— sh^'^pepkji* coldly) Have you finished ? Your speech is very pretty— pray, re- hearse it to some pale-faced Northern girl, rid you'hear that bugle? — It calls brave men to fight — if you Northerners will give them any work. My brpjLher's company musters 7(??7i— Good bye, Mamie.,,; ,,,[, .,;,-, _'_ j , j , , Mamie. — ^)Sottly.) Hal said he.wante^ a Ueuiepant in his company. i , • lorn — Mamie, good-bye. (Extending his hand ) , Mamie. — Here is yoi^r ring. , ■ y'om. — Keep it Mamie. (Looking again.) That's your mother's ring. Mamie. — (In fear.) O my sainted mother — whiat can this omen forebode? Tom — You said mine should not come off till your moth- er's did, you know. ,\ Mamie. — Well, here is yours. 7V>m.— Will you not keep it? 7 -.mi'V^ Tom. — It riia^ coiii^'til 'y(MM«'» thitlk bf mie rmvr hiid tlieii. Jfami'e. — I have no '^i^h ever tb .4^e Wr think of von agjui*. [HoldinjT the ring as if |t8 toiieh cOnld "sAfl her fi ig'-r ] ^o;^,(Bi't'terly.) Tiitit admits of no »n!*wt!r, (Takiog the ring, he /"ropi^ it on^'theflbor, and erusHel^ it tlivdi-r Iiin loot.) ^^ Mamie. — (linpulsively') Oh! vvhat bave you done? You naVe <^estroyed it— my VyeknLituI ring. '■• Tom -—(Tend'ei-'ly— stepping toAVard her— ^and WHiwg oat Vi's ^la'uds,) Mhnife? Jfami«.[An4rily.] Tfh not 8ffa?me.— -7[Slife starts toward the door — hesita'es— starts ^a»aih— then clasps her haiids, her head drooping] Ami ..'cruel — or :itn I mad ! O'! spirit of my sainted mother — g'uule me aright — I have sadrificed tlie truest, bravest he;irt evergi-v- en into woman's keeping. But, O! mother— wou'd yo«lb*ve your daughter do less for the beauliful Soli th that y «u,'Hoo, loved? Oh, iny God, tht^iii is hih' ring— briiken lik^^ my heart! ishe stoops — picks it up — places it in her-bosotniT [Hal e.iters.] ^'' ^. ; A: ho. . ,. |/ ,,;v -• . Hal — l^e is gone, Mamie. Can it"b6 that Tom aWd')Vnuat n'giit — and not under the same flag! ''Can 'H(')rtor be two- It must be hip nuist >vitliHr ni th«' blast of War — and, Mamie— so must Love. Mamie. — YvitliHr ni th«' blast of War — and, Mamie— -so must J Matme. — Yur »word— ""." '',';'• '''''y ''^'■' . ^'k^ , J?(;//.~iU.ilr draws 8word~tliie'n retiirnVil.'] ' Siiater, you tretiilde. Li-t U* be brave — we must face the inevitable. Matnie — Yt-s, Hal — I iiot only tace it — I smile on it — ^t pr»'ft. it — I embrace it. Brother, this is our mother's rinjij. Dijaw yt.ui sword, and divide ij;. [ll;il obeys,^ ' .Take Vhis, and viiard it as your heart's blolod. ' '' '• Hill- -It shall l)e a sacred talisman. , -' ' ; ' ■ ■! Mamie. — Hal, we SontliHrn women must sliari^ in ih^ istrv^- gle. Else Wjt! 4-uv not we<'f> f^r the fallen — we f.o.uld not mate with ^mr .'r<;t.uriiing heijo'es. So we'll wear our sweetes^t smiles when the barhs nf war have transfiie'd the soot.' ' ' . //a/. -O God of Battles! ; caept ^ sddier's thanks: '^FHii wo'nien of , the South will shame her .soldier* ! Mamie. — Krotber, to day I wed the Southern cause, l^heh km el with me, and by our mother's ring and her sacred mem- ory —swear to, be true to Viroj ua. And I too swear:-^ril toil like a slaye — I'll buy, no silks — I'll stli my jewels — and no man's l(»ve shall touch m}- heart, till the Soutli Jtands in the blaze i rhild of, Mr. i 'hase''s old friend, and his adi'pted daaqhter—Mrs, b > and Ruth at table —Mr. C r6((d- "• \ M"',' . -•; • ! . ; ,^,. ,., J , .;;.,*!, I i ♦y : ,Tif'/jJ> :■. II V , ■ .. ,■ !./i, yi.i'i MVo! i'Jil WOJia .' ■ "t^MUilih Mrs. (J — I wish Tom would come. . '«"'""J ... Mr, C — I wish to (TO(i lie had T\ever ejitangled nims'elf f,with the ^^aristocnfcj/ ff yirginiq.''^ (Sarcastically — rises.) ., Mrs. (\ — YeSj^es. ^,dj djiw ip ,Jt.tjiuuiJ i: 'to oiKld yilj -(^ bxiMbhfcat 32 FOR HONOR S SAKE. pake, tiike back your words. ; ,, . '• , ,i?Mi/* r-Yi»s^ Honor is sw.^et^but tojrfe 'rri^yj^o' pyfeefl^f'. Tom Ipves thai Virginia girl — nnd if he conies bapk he imiPt live a luveit^gs life. And it must be terrible to go through life^ith a,\vith^red he;^rt . ., . _' Mr. <7"— [tTurning flyrqely to Ruth.] Girl,sj)eak ni'rtio^eJ Honor 18 tlie heart's core That should be sOund thodgti tfib heart wither. You're unworthy your brave father-- my, dear old, friend — who chose to leave you a helpless waif while he |f,en|, down with his sinking ship for Honor's snke. y^.Mnth —Do i;ot 83} I am imwoithy liim I d H not ppeak for mjseH, but foi Tom. 1 iJiiiiK,!, too^couldsuffer unflinch- ingly ^^^ Honor 8 sake. , . ' Mr. 0. — Yes, yes — forgive me. You are a brave girl — W^orrthy your father— and wortliy a noble man's love. I wish iq , God Tom — By heaven, if he stays svith that Southern gi^'l, I shall curse my boy! I,,,^r§,,p. — [Appealingly.] D spare him. He is my son — my <1ei^r — nuble son. And he will never merit your curie. [Kising] My mother's heart tells me he will fight under thte Union fl:ig [ I'om enters as she utters the last words— in Union blue, and wearing a Lieutenant's straps.] . ''■'''" '''' Tom — Bless you, mother, for yur words. They w'bu'ld shame me did I not wear the army blue. [He kisses his mo- ther—she Bobs ] I ; ' . Mrs' C — O my boy, my' brave darling. \^^ Tom. — [Giving his hand to his father ] One of must, go, father — and it were better I, ycui know. Do my veins carry any fighting blood, think you, father — or has it been watered with tears of philanthropy? [He greets Ruth — she must throughout show her love for, Tom by her ev.dent attempt tpjude it.] , .^Mr. 0. — Yes, Tom —I know yoii always thought me fanat- ical. But I tell you when we fanatics fight, it is the wild beast at bay. — Go)thed your t.ither, I will come back and give you — perhaps my last — good-iiiglit kiss. (She retires.) Jiut/i. —iJixu I aid you any. Tom? T<r you alone, Tom. — Oh, Heaven, why cannot mothers keep their sons? To^n. — M other, give me your blessing before I sleep. [He kneels before her] Mrs. C — [Keeling — her hands on his head — her eyes rais- ed.] " Heavenly Father — bless my boy !" (They rise — lOm kisses his mothrr.) Good-night, mother. (Ruth lias placed a lamp on th^^ table.) T' m — Good-night, sister. [Kisses her — then his m t ler again— an;.,. !!./ ,llj|)Il- -M»\ i>liu>«> I. ; i»(-!>! I/;-*!' M ■//'.> vl/! .jjiioij^i Imi> •ACT IV. LOVE TRIED. i.o^ j iiM , (.4 wood'SC^ne near battleground — in front ^of stdgt, so that \ohenscenc& are drawn the moon-lit battle field is exposed — enter Fitzkugh hnd Marks.) Fitz. — Old boy, here's the sum in good solid gold. You won't need a mule for sparse while you have that. But you charge a miglity high price for shooting a man that drum* med you out of camp. Marks —y^ aW^ I didn't like the job, and I'd never took it, if Maj. Vincent hadn't abused me. I hink of drumming a gentleman out of camp for gambling! The Confederacy , is pretty low down when they must do thr-t. But that settlt^d it--so I put on 'the gray' and went into the flght Fitz. — And had the satisfaction of putting a bullet. into biin, and doing |me a good turn — for which I pay you h'^nd- somely. Maiks. — Yes, you've paid me what you promised — 'cord- ing to agreement — and now I might as well tell you — I did* 'ijt shoot him. Fitz — [Drawing revolver.] Curse you for a coward. — You've put a game on me. Marks.— [Leveling his revolver at the same instant.] Go slow, Fitz — go slo»v. No, I didn't shoot — I didn't need to. [They lower pistols.] The Yanks charged us like a pack of devils! Maj, Vincent fought like a tiger — and dropped, riddied with bullets. I was sort o' glad it saved me thejob. It was just in this valley here. Fitz. — Well, it's all right, if he'sidead. But I'v* got re- Foit" ITOTfioR's SAKE. ^^ ventre, and a free swing for the girl to boot. See here, Marks — the field is held by Union troop^s — and I'll give an extra hundred in gold if we tind the body. I want to get his ])aper8 and keepsakes, and leave no mark to identify him. J/z/r/-*'. — We must look mighty sharp. There ar^ squads all over the field yonder, picking up the wounded, I^ltz — [Confidentially] See here, Marks, wf* must get his papers; and your skill with the pen will help me carry out a lictle scheme I've got in mind. I'll be cursed if I don't liave that girl. Help me win her, and I'll give you five hun- dred — a thousand — anything you ask. Markn. — How the deuce can you get the girl?— she won't marry you Fitz. — Don't be so sure. SV>e mu.st be broken in spirit now. Her father Avas crippled in the war— his property is gone, everything given to the Confederacy. Her brother is dead — and I — well, Marks, next month I skin another contract out of the Confederacy that'll make me rich for life. So, if I can't win the girl fair, I'm going to capture her, and run the blockade for Euroue. (Marks gives an incredulous whis- tle.) Yes — Tve written .m letKr-it's here in my pocket — [slai'ping brenf.t pocket] that I want you todelivir; and one month ircm to 0!iy I'll h:ive as handsome a } acht as ever floated off Col. Vincent's plantation. Then I'll give her a last chance to take me — and if she says no, then I'll take her — d'ye see? [Hunches Marks in the side — they laugh and pass on — Enter Ruth, with lantern ] Ruth. — Yes, yes. He may be only wounded. I must be calm for his sake. While the guard are searching the field yonder, I'll look through this valley. Here they say his regiment did their bravest fighting; anm. — No, Hal, the Union tr.»ops hold the field. ^./.— rid I— fight well — old boy? Tom. — You fought like a lion, as I knew y«,u would. Hal. — Then it's all right, Tom. We all know now that trie North will conquer at last. And ever since old Stone- waH went over the river, we've been fighting oniy/ake. Tom. — I fought against Jackson, Hal, but we are all Americans, after all, and I can honor his couratre, and gen- ius, and devotion, as though I wore the gray. So I give you my hand, old friend, and say with all my heart —God bless old Stonewall ! Hal. — (Softly.) God has blessed him. (After a pause.) Tom, I've been dreaming of my mother, and M.unie. Yi'S, Tom. Maitiie loves you still — has always loved you. Her pride conquered, dear girl. Tom. — Hal, don't talk more now, you are too weak. And I am not strong enough to talk of her. For Mamie's sake, and mine, try to sleep. If you live I shall dare to hope. Hal. — (Weakly and drowsily ) Yes — Tom, I'll — try— to sleep — good-- Torn^ — (After a pause.) Yes, it is sleep, not, de:itli, tliaiik God! He niiist be chill. (Looks around — reaches for a Union coat lying ne.ir — is too weak to lift it.) Heavens, how weak I .iin ! — Did I lose so mucli bloi)d ! (D.;ig-i the coat toward hin).) Poor boy ! he will not scorn tlie Union blue now. (Struggles to throw the co;it over Mai — tlie ef- fort opens the artery, anew.) Oh! Great God^ — 1 bleed KOR honor's SAKK. 0# again. (Seeks to tijjhteii the band round his left arm.) Oh, he.iveri — do not let me- die! (He faints,) [Enter Filzlingh and Marks.] Marks. — (Step* forward so as to lo()k at Ilal ) Here h^' i^i, Fitz But ye'd belter be lirely. Dl stand guard over in those trees, ((xoes out.) Fitz — (Takes keepsakes from Hal's pocket— thrusts them into his own pocjknt — the same where he had placed the let- ter before alluded to.) Ha! Here's a locket on his bosom! This may be the very thing that wins my proud Beauty. (Ilal rousfs — Fitz starts back in fright — ;lrops the letter, which Hal clutclies. ) //<;/.— What is it, Tom? Fitz. — D--n you, are you alive yet? That makes my re- venge the sweeter Hal. — What do you mean?— I never harmed — 1 do not — know you. Fitz. — Wnllkwow you, Hi^l Vincent, curse you! You abused me once— and my Aa^e for yo« is strong as my love for your sister — who sh.all marry me, or be forever dishonor- ed. Now (sarcastically) l-t your cursed Honor writhe! Hai. — (Struggling to rise ) Villain, leave Fdz. — ¥\r9.l III lie merciful — and put you out of your tnisery. (Draws a pistol.) No, that may bring the guard. (Returns it, and draws a dagger. Tom, lying near, has re- vived — the truth dawns on nim that Hal is in danger — He has strength to draw his swor*].) Hal. — Oh — Tom — Tom — help ! Tom — (f.eans over Hal — guanls him.) Fiend, off! Fitz. — First I'll send him to Hell, and you with him. (Tom parries thrusts so that Fit/Juigh cannot touch either of them ) A tliousaiid devils! Worsted by a dead mm! (Picks up a mu>ket with fixed bayonet lying a little distant.) Now die! (Iliith rushes in between them.) liath. — Now live! You d.are not harm him. Guard, ho! (Fitz ru.'^hes off ) Tom, dear Tom. Thank Ood I have found you. Ai-e you much hurt? (She sinks beside him — Tom's head falls over on her knee.) ' Tom. — l»uth — God l)less you — I bleed again — thCj artery — bind — [H>- faints — Ruth binds his arm,] Ruth — [Holding him and stroking his hair.] Tom, dear Tom — wnat can this mean? It is all so terrible! Oh, 40 rOK^HONOR^S SAKE. my darlincr, speak to nie-r-you must not die — no, no, you must not die. i Hal. — [Faintly but excited ]You know him, and you love him — ■— /]?*/?//.— -[Turning in surprise — then answeiing , fiercely.] Yes, I love liim ! Oh, Tom, di-ar, dear Tom. [Kisses his face.] Oil, when will tiie guard return? Hal. — Who — are you? — You have — no — right — to love him Bath. — [Fiercely.] No right — no right?— Oh God help me — I will love him. And who are you — that you d.ire to say I must not? Hal. — Tell me — oh tell me — who you are. Tom cannot he ialse — and he cannot — so soon — have f< rgotten her. — ^He loved — my sister. Jliith. — Oh my God — then you — are Hal Vincent ! [Strug- gling to cairn herself.] And I — I am Tom's sister — his sister Ruth — he must have spoken o/ me. Hal.~Y (.'», yes. Thank God. Tom is true. Oh curse that villain^ — he said he loved her — curse him —curse hira! [Throws oui his hand, still clutchinj: papt-r.] Yes, there's a paper he diopped — Head — It may identify 1 Hut/i. — [Holding it ner lantern, I'eads] : Capt M. — One month from to-day have the yacht oft' Col. Vincent's plantation. E.xjiect a lady passenger. The game is called at last. Yours, F. Hal. — Good God, that's my father's place. It must be some base i)lot. Oh, my mother, must your boy die thus, and Mamie in danger! [Beset'chmgly to Ruth.] Oh, Tom will live — he will save her. Tell him — give her — warning — for God's sake — she loves him still— Oh Tom, I'm going — Tom! To7n. — [Rouses, lifts his head.) Yes, I'm better Ruth, Oh, I remember — I heard Hal's voice — Is he dying? Hal, dear Hal. 01), what have we been fighting for? Ha], it's I — it's Ton:— speak to me — belore ycni go. I'll hold your hand while the black shadow falls — and I'll guard — Mamie. Oh, my God, he's going! Hal, Hal, good bye. Bal. — God bless you, Tom, The letter -she loves — Huzza — There's Stonewall — good bye! (^'alls back dead.) To7n. — [>^obbing.) He is gone. Oh, Ruth! Tear of this bandage — let my life go out with his. FOU 110:^OB.'8 $AKE. 41 Ruth. — Hush, Toin. Fop yiojut motbaM'^ sake — guard your Tom — Yes, Unth, for her s.ike. fTunis head toward JIal] Go )d bye, brave soul, and dearest friend ! Ruth, what letter did he mean ? . . j ; , i . .,,j Ruth. — [Hesitatingly.] He was — anxious — icr — his sister. And lie — wished me — to send her — word. Torn. — Yes, Ruth, you can write her ihe letter my heart would dictate. Say I was with him — and saw him die That he fought nobly, and died a hero. But Ruth, say qo other word for me. I love her still — though she scorned me lint 1 would not bribe her through the love 1 gave to Hal. Hark — what is that? Ruth. — Yes, the soldiers are singing at the camp fire yon- der. [Tliey listen — an unseen chorus sing very so^tly^/^ibe l^st strain of 'Tenting on the Old Camp Ground. "j.^jj .,!,;.;,, .,,i CHORUS. Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, Wishing for the war to cease; Many are the iiearts waiting for the right, To see the dawn of peace. Dying to-niglit — Djing to-nightM'" '' Dying on the old camp ground. '■' [Tom sleeps.] '' "' ' ' Ruth —Ihi sleeps — he will live. Kind HeriVen, 1 ask no more! I'll nurse him back to life, and then - and then- — (looking at Tom with passionate fondness.) Oh, my love! my brave, dear heart, — is it not God himself who resurrects that sweet, sweet hope? [Passionately.] It might have been — but for that Southern girl — may it not yet be. since Fate — Oh God! it c- nnot be wicked to pr.ay fa- that which she has scorned. Yes, it was only a dying fancy of her brother — she cannot be in danger! And if she were — what then ! No, no. I'll not vex my brain with an idle fancy. And I promised nothing. No, no. I did not promise — I'm sure of that. And it would be only cruel to torture Tom with foolish fears. [Intense emotion.] Oh, Tom, Tom — Heaven gives you to me at last — and must I then--Oh, T cannot refuse the gift of heaven— yes, of heaven — of heaven [Kisses Tom's forehead.] CUKTAIir FALLS. 42 FOR HONORIS SAKE. '•^ • . ■■ " ACT' v; MM.v \,u:u^. .^A L'OVE TRIUxMPHANtr "' " {At Col. Vincent's — same as Scene I, Act.Jll.) ' ' ^ ' Marnie —{A\oi\e — ^dressed simply, V)Ut eh'anniiigly,— look- ing at HnTa picture on the wall.) Oh, Ilul, where are you, ray noble brother? Liviufjj or ile.id you are counted with he- roes. Can I not then suft' r cheerfully? But, oh, this sus- pense is cruel. They say you were missing in that terrible fight (Passionately.) Missing — missing — missing! Oh, Gtid, give nie news of liim soon. One look — one sound of bis X'oice— ^6ven one word penned by jiis hand — Oli, God!- — Ibtrne 'not lose faith! Lift me out ol this gloom that en- gtilfsme! (Walks to and fro.) Oh Tom, Tom — have yow forgotten me during these tenible yearx! How I gloried when I'veiid of your bravery, (fakes ring from ht-r bosom.) Yes tJiat was his ring. Poor, liroken ring! Yet 1 glory in the pride that crushed it. For I loo was proud. (Fiercely.) Yes, still am proud! Fll not live over again that dream of love. Not even my thoughts stiall l)e traitorous to the South. (Enter Col. V. on crutches — wearing failed Confeder.ile uiii- tbrm — Miss Browne obsequiously attetnpting to .aid him.) Miss £ — What felicity, Col., to render the sliohtest as- sistance to a gallant, crippled soldier! Ah (sees Mamie — who runs to her father ) Mamie. — Papa, dear, why did you not send for me? [To Miss B.] And Miss Browne, 1 wish you to understand that ■ijt^S my right—and mine only —to serve my fither. [Helps Ker father tenderly to a chair. Miss H. letires cre.>*tfillen.] Col. V. — (As Mamie looks up into his face, knecdingat his feet.) My darling is sad to-night. Yes, the iron of War ha$ struck df ep into your soul. Wealth gone — jewels gonfe — your father crippled, and your brotlier missing — all the light and joy gone out of our home! J/f/j/iitf — (Liy;htly--putting her hand over h's niouth.i) Hijsh, papa, — my burdens are light, so long as you ai'e le4"t me . ,('oL V.r-f-BU^sa you, my daughter; though I am sadly inaiiipn-djJiCiiin help you bear them, until you can rest theWi on ,. stronger shoulders ;m ■ •)iii m ;.ii •• Mamie. — Ilu^ih, papa — no more. !.(.o(!')(«») v'dk.T ^-oHKiJl! Col. F;— (Stroking litTj head fondly.) Yes. Mamie, you are beautiful —beautiful as was your mother. War must end FOR HONOURS SAKK. 43 .: .ir:< .-';;■. ^ -1, ■.■•^ • ; ) at last. And many a brave heart that battle could not daunt, will be ready' tO yield 'uficonuitlcVHally to my ^outhei-n Qiieen of B»»anty ' ■ J/c/m/« ^No inore, papa — I command. C'cl. V — My sweet child, I pray to Ileareii that ere I cro under the soil, I m.iy see you cherished by ai)rave and noble heart. And you must pardon your old father the question— biit do you care for this Filzhugh? He shuns me, and well he may, tor I bear little love for these army contractors. But y.) Trust me, papa. I love only you, and our sacred cause. Col- V. — You lighten my heart, Mamie. But seel the moon is rising. Will you help me to th;it seat in the gar- den? (M.imie gently aids irnn-they retire.) (Eriter l\iiss Browne and Kitzliugh.) Fitz. — Miss Browne — to-night, 1 plead my cause for the last time. Miss B. — I'm sure your devotion ought to be rew.'irded, Mr. Fitzhugh. l^'^itz. — Yes, and yours. Miss Browne. Don't lose heart; Jet me get the girl out of the way, and you'll trap the old Colo'iel yet Miss B — Your levity, sir, is extremely iiiappro[)riate. Fdz —Ha, ha! Weil, Mi«s Browne, I want clie servants to go on a lark down to the Corners — d'ye understand? And here's a slight recognition of your invaluable services. (Gives money.) Misfi li — -Do not think me mercenary, Mr. Fitzhngh. 1 delight in aiding !i romantic affection^ — especially an u:ire qui led one. Fitz. — Enough of your Sentimental twaddle! And I'll give you a last hint — you'll never catch the Colbnel with that chaff. But now to business.' T6-night my tkMiiinph C'lfne."— i-tair or foul, as she wills it. She is in my power at last. So' you m.iy request her I'najesty (in)nic:rlly) to r'.ivor me with an audience. (Miss B. retires —Fitzhugh Continues.) Ye*, her brother is dead, her father a cripple, and if she wcbrii lue again-^l'li take her by force. My plans are laid, f/l b'jjhf lili^ ,iU;rtiYi9 j»i>V CI- ..< AK- .1>-: 44 rOR honor's sake. }<>!] ! •!)!'>•) ■ij-',,i' )j. i; ' ■ '"ii' .• ... . !'/■ Ti, uiy yacht is pn! no more. And the word Honor ill suits your lips. Yet I once thought you noble, when you surrenilcred your claim to my hand — seeing your suit was distasteful. I^^itz. — Yes, I was foolish enough to let my passion fly the field and leave it to the lovfc of a whining Northern Mamie. — (liaising lier hand imperiously.) Beware! do not make me a fiend. Enough that you broke the chain. H.)nor does not Ijreak a shackle and then seek to rivet ii agjiin. J^itz. — Does the woman enter bondage, then, who becomes a wifey Mamie — (Scornfully.) Yes, if she mate with cowardice and treachery. I kiujw the sacredness of my father's oath; and to Iieip him keep it I would suffer R*S SAKE. 49 Mianiie. — And fathef^^l— scorned him, as I do every one who would strike at the South. . , Ruth. — [Steps f.irwardjbre^kihg dftt passionately.] TJi^n, Mamie Vincent. [Mamie springs up amazed,] before Gfod, who seTids me as your accuser, I tell you that you have scorned the noblest heart thit ever' won woman's lov,e., \ Mamie. — [Haughtily] Who are you, woman, ,tha^,i forgive me — I coula not come— at first. [To Mamie.] But the conviction grew upon me with terrible strength that you were in danger — that I must come — to save you. So at length I pleaded —forced my way through the lines — begged my way hither — and Heaven be praised, I am in time to save you from worse than death! [Hands ihe p.iper to Col, V.] Here is the letter the villain dropped, — (Then to Mamie.) I know it is no idle fear that tortured your brother's dying hour. (Then to Col, V.) Oh, arm — arm! the blow may fall even to-night, (To Mamie,) and I would save you tor your father's sake — your dead brother's sake— for Tom's sake. Oh, he loves you yet — give him your heart again — he is noble — worthy all love, H« fell wounded at your brother's side — and would have given his life for Hal's. He is a hero, too. In twa short 50 FOB HONORIS S^AIrKi week* he"~wa8 agjain in bnttle — and now — Oh, lErod,,no«» he is a prisoner. Can you not find him and save hira? (Clatp- ing her haiids.) Oh. save hini, save him!, JEtc^mtV. —[Wildly ] Woman, I read; your heart — you plead for yourself — you love him! And you would have mtv believe that you came here to save me for his sake? Out on such bloodless h.ye. Ruth — Oh, God, let me die ! I am so weak— so weak — - (Wildly.) Why can I not Iiate you? (Then softly.) But. Oh, I cannot even hate you, because — because Tom — loves you. (Snatching pi.stol frows his head sobbing — holding lier liand.) Mamie — sister--! am dying — will you not — love him — now ? Mamie — Yes, yes — you have taugiit me how to love. Tom, by the side of this dying woman, I tell you 1 always lovnd you. (Takes I'ing from her bosom.) See, Tom, this i* your ring. Does not this speak for me? liuth. — Now death is sweet — (Places Tom's hand in Ma- mie's.) Good bye, Tom — good bye — Mamie. (Falls back dead.) 7bm, — (Bending in agonized grief over Ruth — kissing her brow — Mamie softly rises and fetches sheet or white pall — Tom rises, and stands with folded arms — Mamie kneels, kisses Ruth — then gently throws the fall over her— again kneels.) Heaven bless you, my darling. I too, surrender all my pride. For love I will surrender everything but Honor. Yon taught me that. Have I learned tlie lesson ? ( 'J'hey kneel before Col. V. — he blesses tliem.) Col. F^— Bless you, my children. We will wait patient- ly for the end. VYhen the war is over, Tom, we'll wiit your comif)g. My boy is gone — and I shall soon follow. I'll live in you. It is not hard for brave men to be reconciled. [Tom and Mamie rise— stand on Col. V.'s right] Tom. — (Turning to Jake— taking his hand ) J.ike, old fel- low — you ha\*e risked your life for mine. Thi.s villain is de.ad. At midnight, his own yacht shall take me out to the the fleet — we'll both go back to fight the war through to the end — for Honor's Sake. (Again shaking his hand.) I can never repay you. / ; ; iif Jalce. — No more ye karn't. Major Tom. Ole Jake haint run the risk o' dancin' a breakdown on top o' nuthin' fur 52 FOR HONOR S SA^. pay. It war all ftir my dead Col. Hal's sake, an' leetle J>ia- inie's, thar. . Mamie — (Taking Jake's hand.) Mamie thanksjyou, Jake, with all her heart. [Jake and Rosa stand at CoK V.'b left.] Tom. — Throws back his cape --showing his suit of blue — drawing Miiniie to his heart.) Yes, Col., when the war is over I'll coine to claim my bride. And here in the presence of the dead — and with the memory of so many brave dead, fresh in my heart — the spell of projthecy is upon me^ Mamie. — (Dropping her head on his breast appealingly.) Oh, Tom — do not ehide — do not chide me. Tom. — No, Mamie, I'll never chide you for holding in ten- der memory the cause for which your brother gave his life. e/'aA'tf.— (Aside.) I know'd he war the right sort ef he is a Yank. Tom — But now that your heart beats with mine I may tell you that the Union for which I hav'e fought will live — the Genius of Freedom has ordained it in this baptism of fraternal blood. But thank God all that isbestin tl)e Cause you have cherished will live with it ! Southern devotion and heroisin can never die — and the North will not seek to kill that which glorifies the name American. The Curse we have borne wasnot the South's — it wa<« the Nation's — and the North, too, has gladly opened her veins to wash it out. I thank the God of Freedom that we are fighting out no war of Conquest, no war for the mere honor of Arms, no war of race-hatred — but a war of Sentiment that the Future will call sacred — a war that on either side meant unswerving loy- alty to honest convictions of right With the red stripes of war the Angel of Peace will dye the old Flag anew with Northern and Souther') blood, and brighten the stars with a Nation's Glory! The historian will tell the story — less of our Country's shame than her salvation — and the school-boy as he cons it, shall see shining in every line American brave- ry and devotion! A United People — we'll honor all our Worihy Dead! Then will the North echo the strain of the poet who voices the heart-thrill of the South — [Col. V. bows his head — Tom's right hand clasps Mamie's rifrfit — vvith her left arm she clasps her father's brow — Tom lifts h's left arm from Mamie's waist toward heaven — looking upward.] FOR honor's sake. 53 "Stoop, Angels, hither from the skies; There is no holier spot of ground Than where defeated Valor lies — By mourning Beauty crowned." CU14TA1N FALLS.* LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 825 805 5 •