-^0^ ''^v o " o * "O .V (--1 V '^ * • ' -> ,c.' . *'' ■''■<^' . ^-yiw.' ./ "^ --^ ' .^^ ^: "-' :^^ .-iJ^MA". %,s* .'l^'-, %,^* --Ws? ■.in iS^ ', <(. »-. ^^ .•»* A^' I cl C fi • OR. THE ^0^£N S^^^ .J oaA^^ THE aMjEAT QEMMAW WAM DRAMA. ■0 \ c,G R A c^ OR, THE ^. wea», /.A' FIVE ACTS, Willi new and beautiful Music, Songs, Choruses, Tableaux, etc., etc. BY m^or. or. sikitTOii, AUTHOR OF Harry Allen, the Union Spy,''"' '■'Ellen Douglas,^'' ^'- Stratagem,'^ ^'Hip Van Winkle,^'' etc., etc. t- f ' ? J^VA-^ve^. , ^ 0, O PRINTED, BUT NOT PUBLISHED, 1875. A^'d y> DKAMATIS PERSONS. Count Stkalenheim, FniLip Mkissen, Albert Stralenheim, Frederick William, Prince Bismark, Captain Wallenstein, Leon, Homer, Officers of the Guaim), Genevieve, - Madam Meissen, Lady Gertrude, Ernestine, Cecelia, Col. of the 65th. Sergt. of the Both. Son of Counts. Emperor of Germany. Prime Minister, Capt. of the 65th. Servant to Count Stralenheira. Page to the Emperor. Ward of Madam Meissen. Wife of Count Stralenheira. Eldest daughter of Count Stralenheim. Younger daughter of Count Stralenheira Ladies and Gentlemen. Soldiers, etc., etc. German. Costume : Dress of the j)eriod of 1872. tro THCE :b>tj:h:LjXO. Entered according to act of Congress in the year 1S75, by "■*. Joseph Barton, in the office of the Librarian of Conarres.s, DISGRACED OE THE BROKEF SWORD. ACT I. Scene I. — Interrior of 3fadam Meissen, s cottage, cupboard near — L. u. E. Latticed door and window in Flat. — Stand, with tcork basket upon it. — Bird ca(je suspended in windoi/J. — Arm chair, lounge and four chairs — Spinnin;/ wheel near open doorivny.— Genevieve discovered spinning, and singing as curl n in vines.- Madam Meissens discovered in arm chair sle^nng. MUSIC. Genevieve's soifG. A maiden sat at her busy wheels Her heart was light and free, And ever in cheerful song burst forti) Her bosom's harmless glee. Her song was in mocker}' of love> And often I heard her say, The gathered rose, and the broken heart. Had charmed but for a day, &c. [ looked on the maiden's rosy cheek., And her eye so clear and bright. And I sighed to think that the traitor lovcv Should conquer a heart so light. She thought not of future days of woe, As she carrolled in tones so ga}'. That the gathered rose and the broken hearty Could charm but for a da3% &c. 6 disgraced; ok, the beoken sword. [act i. Philip. [Entering door in fiat.) All! my little^, losebuu, I've been lii-.tenit)i>' to your heixiitifiil son^' until I'm almost charmed. Madam M. [Awaking and rubbing her eyes.) Wh^', Philip; you here? we didn't expect you again to-day. Philip. Yes, yes sister; I had a little leisure, and thought both of you would be so delighted to ^i^e me. [Philip drops coolly into the arm chair., and thrown liis .^word o)i thejioor. JMadam JVI., exits l. h. Philip. [Ironically.) How proud yoii have grown girl. Gene- VXEVK, why do you djspise maV b.H'auso I am not rich, am noth- ing but a pool- subaltern, and do not belon;^ to the nobility. Genetueoe. Do /.balong to the nobility? Philip. Not yet, but hope soon to do so. Its rather singular girl. What a strange fancy your family have for the name of Sti'al-eu-heim. Your mother allowed her vanity [and perhaps her heart) to be touched for a certain Ca[)tain Stral-cn-heim, an J' now its your time to be smitten' with the mime. I should advise you, my girl, to have a care least yoi/.r mother's fate overtake you. Her n'oble captain abandoned her at Dresden, where sh3 stood t!ie chances of starving. But she was glad enough to get back home again. "^ Gen. Sergeant Meissen, you are of the opinion that I dislikj you, and you are right. You are a bold, wicked man, and have dared to }>rofane the spotless name of the man I love, and in speaking of my p(»or dead mot'ier in such terms, you vilify the dead. If, in a helpless hour she fell, she more than expiated tli3 wrong she inflicted upon me. I knew her goodness and her ex- nmplary life. Knew with what bitter tears she wiped out the stain of her erring sin. At least, she never harmed you. 8he was too g'ood, to wish evil even to her worst enemy. But it is not enough that your venomous tongue must throw its slander over her and me. Y'^our base ingratitude must also seek to tra- duce the family of the noble Count Stral-en-heim — your chief an 1 benefactor. Philip. Ha! Ha! Ha! My benefactor. Will you please havj the goodness and kindness to name any favor I have ever receive I at his hands? 'Enter Madam M. l. h. with tray of fowl, salad and bottle of wine, which she places on the stand. Madam 31. There, Philip; try and make yourself comfort- able, and drop this unpleasant conversation. Philip. I will Madeline. Thank you, thank you. (Drinks ) Madeline, I'm proud of jou. (Drinks). Now, my pretty Gen /^ ACT I.] disgeaced: or, the bhoken sword. 7 evieve, will you please be kind enouf>h to enumerate the bounties I am indebted to the nolile Coionel lor? 1 think it would jnizzle \-ou. Madam M. Yes, Philip, that's very true, that's very true — and as much as I respect Ihe Colonel, I think he raiuht have i)ro- moted you long ago to the rank of Captain, or Lieutenant at least. Philip. Madeline, you are right, I have been thirty years in the King's servjce, and am not I entitled to preferment ovei- many who have already receiA"ed it? Gen. That is all very likely, sir; but you must remember tliat you have only been a few months in his regiment. Philip. It must, and it shall come. Iladam 3f. Yes, Pliilip, and it icill surely come, — then how proud / shall be, to have a Captain or a Lieutenant for my brother-in law. I shall then learn to lean on your arm; and be equal to any of our fine ladies. [Business for i\L\r)AM M.) Philip. Thank you, thank you, Madeline, for your many kind wishes, and for the interest you manifest in my behalf. When I am greats you shall not be forgotten. Mad<\m M. Philip, now, don't say another word about that, you deserve promotion — you are a valient soldier, and would make such a charming Captain. Philip. You may take my word for it Madeline, that before man}' days and i)erhaps hours, Count Stral-en helm, will have become my benefactor in good earnest. Uxit Madam M. r. h. Ge7i. I feel assured, sir, that he would readily pertorm an}' act of kindness towards you, consi'^tant with his duty. Philip. Yes, he is the Colonel of the Iron 65th, the Em- peror's body guard, a close and intimate friend and adviser; and he has unbounded influence with him. What then is there to prevent my i^romotion? Gen. His sense of justice toward other subalterns of longer standing, than yourself, may possibh' be the reason of his with holding your advancement. Philip. Perhaps so, but you will soon see, what we can do. Gen. Whom do you mean by toe? Philip. Oh; don't be alarmed, my girl, 'tis quite simple You know you are engaged to the Colonel's onl}^ son, and you will not surely refuse to do a good turn for an old soldier, espe all}' as he happens to be a distant relative. disgraced; or, the broken swohd. [act i. Gen. [Rising.) I beg of you once for all, sir, to be more re served in your languMge toward me. It is true that Albert 8tral t'U heim is my affijineed lover, and in spite of my low station, his intentions are pure and honorable. Na^', were tiiey not, 1 would reject them without a pang. In the broad face of day he sought uiy maiden love. His affection for me, is disinterested and un tainted by one sinful thought, notwithstanding the distance that I'xists between us. Philip. Ha! ha! ha! That's capital. Gen. Wherefore that unmeaning laugh, man? Philip. You girls are all alike. Pretty and vain while youth lasts, when that fades ,you grow bitter and jealous. You have not the slightest idea what queer pranks Dame Fortune plays on her see-saw. Up and down, up and down, and — away you go — ^into the mire. Ge7i. It is you who are envious and bitter, despicably so to ine. But I have his ])rouiise that bofore two days have passed he will not only acknowh^dge me before the world as his affianced wife, but his father will consent to our union. J'hilip. I I'ather think he'll find it hard to obtain his consent. Ge7i. Why should he? Philip. I was niistakeiied. The haughty family of Count Stral-en-heim will feel ))roud and honored to receive the daugh ter of , well, no matter who. As sure as you are of sue cess, Genevieve, I am even more so of mine. I have only to pronounce one word, one little, insignificant word, and the road to my honors, the pathway to fame and fortune, lies clear and open before me. Gen. Indeed, 'tis very strange 3'ou have never uttei'ed this sentiment before. Philip. I bide ray time cliild, but it is fast approaching — OA'ery minute brings my long coveted prize closer and closer to my grasp. Before to morrow's sunset, I shall wear a Lieuten ant's eapulettes in the G5th. What say you to that, eh? (Enter Mav>am M. r. u. k.) Gen. If you merit thern, and the distinction, I hoi)e you may get them. You have my good wishes. Philip. If there is nothing preventing your becoming the laughter-in-law of the noble Count; surely there is far less to ()revent a soldier of thirt}' years service, from becoming a Lieutenant. Gen. Am I to understand, sir; that you meam, l. u. e. A Ihert. ( Entering door in flat, approaches Gknevikvk and kissea her.) Can you guess my dear, Genevieve, whv I have come to visit you thus eai'ly? Gen. I know dear, Albert, that 3'ou have some grand scheme u your nund, and before 3'ou put it iu execution you wish to ronsult me. Albert. Yes, darling, you have guessed rightly, and should I pucc-eed, it will open to me a career of inde])end3nce and use- lullness. If I possess the proper talents, the position which the Kmperm- has alm05t prom".s;Hl to confer ui»ou me, will give me a genial sphere of action. Gen. Oh, what position can it be, Albert? Albert. Private Secretary to his highness. I am to have an interview with him this very day. At least, I have solicited one. and if he consents, I shall urge him to grant n\e Isis long prom ised appointment forthwith, and then [Embraces Genevieve.) Gen. Yes, Albert, and then Albert. I shall disoel for ever your fears, dearest, and fulfill my ])romise to you. Then I shall ask at once my parents bless ing on our love. (Kis.ses Gknevikvl. ) 10 disgkaced; oh, the bhoken s\AOEr». [act i. Nay, nay, fear not, although my father is of noble lineage, he is likewise a man, wliose soul is filled with human sympathies. His long career of usefulness has been distinguished b}- undevi- ating rectitude, and all who know him, praise him, and esteem him. You would wrong iiim Genevieve, if for one moment you believe that to me, liis only son, he would act unjustly'. Believe me, he could not. Oen. I only fear, Albert, least he should doubt the purity of my affection. Attributing it to a vain, selfish pride. It may seem very weak, very foolish, perchance, Ijut I often wish that 3"ou like m3'self, were poor and humble. Albert. Were it so, our mutual love could not be greater. Even were I seated on the German throne, I could not feel a pride more honest in raising you to share that lofty station with me. Man, however powerful, need never blush to honor inno- cence and virtue. Our love is not of to-day, neither will it fade to-morrow. No, no Genevieve, it will bless and brighten a long future. But, dear Genevieve, I must be gone. I heard my father say that the Emperor would review the 65th in person about this hour, I shall watch his departure from the ground and then seek an audience. Farewell dearest, farewell. 1 feel assured of success, because your prayers will follow me. Gen. Yes, my inmost heartfelt pra^ ers. Albert. I will return in the evening, until then good bye dar ling, good bye. (Albert kisses her and exits hurriedly through door in flat. Gen- evieve seats herself at her spinning wheel, and commences singing. ) SONG, A year passed by, and again I stood B^' that humble cottage door. The maid had forgotten her early song, And her heart was light no more. The big tear stood in her down cast eye, And sighing I heard her say. That the gathered rose and the stolen heart, Could charm but for a day. And the gathered rose, &c. Ah, well I knew what had dimmed her eye And made her cheek so pale. The maid had forgotten her early song, And listened to love's sweet tale, ACT I.] disgraced; ok, the bkokex sword. 11 She had drank of the sweets of its [ oisened cup, It liad wasted her life away, And the gathered rose and the stolen heart, Had charmed but for a day. And the gathered rose, &c. [Enter Madam M., l. h., icho approaches Genevieve.) 3fadam 31. My child, yoii behave very strangely of late. Gen. Do I, mother? 31adam J/. Why have you taken such a dislike to Philip? Gen. Because, mother, I believe him to be a had man. But do not let us talk of him. I have something to fell you that will please you better. I know ^'our anxious love for me. Know how you show it in ten thousand ways. Since I was left an or- phan child, to 3'our protection. So come sit by me mother, and share your daughter's happiness, and I will tell 3'ou all. (Madeline seats fierself in a rtn chair, and Genevieve drops on stool at her mother s feet. Picture.) Sc^ENE II. — Landscape or (/arden, in one. — Enter Philip, l. i. e. — Solus. Philip. I have watched his movements, scrutinized his eA"ery action and features, and cannot be mistaken. He must be the man. This is a strange and eventful world, and what strange, curious pranks does fickle fortune play. To-day we grovel in poverty and wretchedness. To-morrow, we are exalted to posi- tion, wealth, and honor, no matter what means or ends we em- ploy; if it only be attained. For years have I waited for this hour to come. I am like the famished tiger that springs upon his long coveted prey, and will not release my grasp, until my hungry cravings are satisfied. How little does his lordship dream, that I possess the dread secret of his life. My silence must be purchased, and at my own price. I will seek an inter view with him, and my demands must be recognized. If re fused — the world shall know, that empty honor, and titles of nobility when purchased by crime and falsehood, are but baw- bles, which the slightest breath, even of the vilest slave, when tainted with the shadow of truthfulness, can scatter to the winds of Heaven. Exit Philip, r. i. e. MUSIC. 12 disgraced; or, the bpoken sword. [act i, Scene III. — Street or v^ood. — Troops enter l. i. e., cmd go t.hroiKjh such evolutions as they are best drilled in, clositir/ irith paradi rest. — Music, Iluil to the Chief. Col. Attention, Batallion I Shoulder, Arms! (Esu'ERoii and Staff enter, l. i. e.) Emperor. Colone"', pass your rejrimont in review. Col. Attention, Batallion! Shoulder, Arms! c'ec., (fee. Exit h. I. E. ORAND ALLEGORICAL TABLEAUX, "THE WATCH ON THE KHINE." M USIC CU HTA IN. ACT 11. Scene i. — -Elegant drawhuf-roo^n in Stralenhemi 3Iansion. — Ta- ble, chairs, piano, sofa, cfcc, cfcc. — Lady Gektkude discovered seated 071 sofa. — Ernsteine and Cecelia discovered sta?} din ff near hay window, c. busily enrjaged in arranging flotoers in vcszs. Lady Gertrude. Yes, indeed, they will shed anotiier halo aruuiid my jireatness, another branch rising above the proud trunk of my genealogical tree, that even now has grown so mighty that few there are who can presume to look so high. In another .month we shall celebrate Ernstine's birthday, and before her twentieth summer dawns upon her, she will be the Countess Stienberg. She will })e hapi)y then. The young Count loves her, and that is a sweet omen for her future. [Enter dm's.T Stralexheim in full ColoneVs loiiform, l. n., who lays aside his chajjeau, sword, belt, tfcc, and falls on sofa as if exhausted — all hasten to him.) Lady G. Wh}^ Count, what is the matter, how pale you look? [Business.) Count. Oh, 'tis nothing Gertrude, really nothing. The heat was so ODpressive on parade, and it has made me rather faint. There; I'm better now. Ernestine. [Taking a bottle from -work-box.) Father, let me sprinkle a few drops of this cologne on your forehead. Count. No, no my child. It is my heart that requires a puri- fying essence. But I have joyful news for you Ernestine. Ernestine. For me, father? Count. Yes, child, for you. The Emperor informed me to- day, that Count Stienberg's diplomatic mission was ended, and that we might daily expect his return. 14 disgraced; Ou, the bkoken savoi;d. [actii. Cecelid, But lathoi", do you tliink h^ u'iil returu heartwhole. Oh, if he shouhi come bac-k raithUss, Lady G. Pshaw, child — stop yonr jesting-. It is joyful news indeed, Ernestine was pining in despair, least the young Count should not return iu time to be present at her birthday fete. (Laoy Gkktkudk, E.RNLSTINK mixl Cccti-iA retire tip ^tage to win do'W and exit, k, h.) €ovnt. [Aside.) Yes, they are happy; who can look upon them and doubt it? Everywhere I breath the ^itmosphere of ease and brightness. 'Tis only within that I taste the Dead Sea fruit of the bitter past, [Enter Lady (t,, k, ik) Lady G. [Ap2Jroaching Count.) Did the Emperor converse long with you to-day, Count? Count. Yes, Gertrude, he did, and very graciously too. He is an excellent man. Aflfable to all, and especially so to me. Lady G. But, Count, you fully merit his esteem and confi- dence, and throughout j-our long service you. have been most zealous in your duty. Count. Ah, Gertrude; but fev,- can boast that at evciy period of their lives they have conscientiously discharged their .duty. Lady G. Count, you are too severe. If we can condemn our selves for trifling errors, why may not our well merited virtuts. equally' claim our praise? Count. Gertrude, say no more. In God's hands alone rests the unerring balance of justice. I am never so happy as when you are seated beside me. In your love and that of our children, I feel the rich blessing of Heaven. Lady G. Yes, aud I can only hope that our darlings future may be as cloudless as our past has been. Ernestine will soon bless with her hand a noble husband, and Cecelia, I am sure will not remain long droo|ting upon the parent tree. Count And don't forget wife, that our noble son will soon be exalted to a position most flattei-ing to a fiither's lieart. Lady G. But, Count, I feel somewhat surprised that Albert h:is not ere this received his appointment. Count. There is nothing to fear witli his brilliant talents, he cannot fail of success. Lady G. Heaven grant it. Count. There is nothing to prevent it, he has been trained beneath my care. I can answer for him, as for myself. [ExifLkOY G., L.H. Enter Albert, r. il) ACT n,] cisgkaced; oh, thk bi:okin sword. 15- Count. Why, ni,y boy, yon seem annoyed. (Has any one dared.) I mean Albert, what is it that has vexed you? Albert. Father, I am standing- on equivocal ground, as re- gards the Emperor, (Falls into chair.) Count, How so, my boy? Albert. When he left parade this evening, I followed him to the \ alic^. Saw him enter, and when I presented myself for the purj ose or' obtaining- an interview, his chamberlain told me that his highness desired to be alone. Count, Pshaw! boy you are too impatient, 3'ou will receive your appointment in due ti)ne — and that will be another laurel to my crown. Fortune, power and dignity, will all belong to me and my son. And then Albert, one wish only will remain ungratificd. Albert. One wish, Father? Count. Yes; to see you married. Albert. Married? Count. Aye, my son, there are many beauteous flowers of noble growth in the courtly circles of Emperor William — some one of them no doubt would suit your taste. Albert. Father, marriage is not a mere matter of taste. 1 have been educated to believe that marriage should only follow the deep abiding love of the heart. Count. My boy, come nearer to me; be seated. It is not this particidar lady, not that my wishes, or your mother's point to. But let me suggest some one to you, my boy. What objection can you raise against the beautiful and accomplished Countess Waldenl>erg? Albert. I have a fatal one, father. Count. Indeed! What is it? Albert. I love another. Count. Another! Who is she? Albert. Father, {Takes the Coui^t's hand,) listen. I know that you love me, and that yon f-re most just and kind. You also have my welfare at heart, and therefore will not reject the choice I have already made, even though it may not harmonize with your wishes. Count. Who is the lady? Albert. A young girl, poor but perfect in every virtue, and with a face and form of excjuisite loveliness. Count. Of noble family? Albert. No, she is of humble parentage. 16 disgraced; or, the broken sword. ]act ii. Count. {Risin'j.) 'J'lieii you must at once renounce and for- get her. I have no wish th:it you should marry whore yon do not love, I will not consent to your union with a low l)orn girl. Albert. Father, your kindness shines forth, in saying that you have no wish to force rae into a heartless marringe; but let me implore you to pause ere you interpose your final decision upon a step that is fraught with weal or woe to me. Count. My son, you possess ideas relar.ive to the social con- ditions of life which do not harmonize with mine; but I tell you now, (and receive my words as final, for I am as infiexible as fate upon the point in question,) that unless you nuirry one whose birth and position are equal to your own, my attection and my home will be forever closed against you. If you are bent on incurring my displeasure, you will wed this girl. Do so, and frou) that hour I am without ;i son. (Count, risltKj as if to go.) Albert. Styy, father. Count. For whatV Albert. That 1 may crush (Kit this false pride, that rises like a hideous spectre betvveen us. Count. {IncUgnantlij.) Know your station, sir; you are speak ing to Count Stralenheim. Albert. 1 know, sir; but I also thougiit I was speaking to my father. Your pardon, sir. 1 will not ott'end again. (^ Enter Lkon, l. i. e. ) Leon. Sergeant IMeissen Sends compliments roid requests an audience with his Colonel, Count Stralenheim. [ Business. ) Count. Tell him Leon, that I will see him presently. (To Albert.) Our interview is for the present at an end; but I trv,st when we meet again, yon vv^ill have seen j'our error; if so my si- lence and pardon are insured. {Exit Albert, u. i. k., bowing. Leon exits l. i. e. ) so MIS. Count. How strange it is that this man came to enter my regiment. Whenever 1 meet him I feel myself cower beneath his searching glance. Although his u.-une is unknown to me, yet his features are not altogether unfamiliar. It is the infiexible justice of heaven thjit has set him on m^' track, or a moi'king ACT II.] disgraced; or, the broken sword. 17 demon that gosds me by a false resemblai ^e. Has m^- life been prolonged but for tiiis? Must the edifices which has taken me years to real', be crumbled into the dust? Must I be hurled into the dark abyss of despair? Fortune, iionor and [)Ower, twenty years of a blameless, unstained life, all reft from me? I was so calm, so happy. Wiiy, oh why, am i thus rudely awakened to a recollection of a horrible past? Why this terrible agony at the sight of a man, a subaltern? A man whom 1 could crush out of existence like a worm. No glimmering recollection even of his name steals across me, and yet, his presence causes my blood to stagnate. ( business. ) Great Heavens! What is this terrible light that flashes through my brain? Ah! I remember now. The heartless mon- ster — have I fallen into his grasp? If so, God help me. for he only can, — 1 am dashing onward to the blink of. a yawning precipice. There may be ruin, dishonor and death in the gulf; but I cannot shrink back— dare not recoil. No; this fierce spectre ttivst be (juelled, or I perish. lynohly perish. (Count walks foor agitatidly, goes to table avd ririr/s bell. Enter Lr.ON, L. 1. K. ) Co'irnt. Send Sergeat Meissen to me; tell him J await him. Leon. Yes, your Highness. Exit Leon, l. i. e. (Coi^NT stana's ivith back toirard door when Leon and Meissen enter, l. i. e. ) Leon. Your Lordship; Sergeant Major Meissen. (Philip salvtcfi and removes his hat, but remains standing, look ing with fixed eyes on the count.) Count. ( To Leon. ) Loon you can retire. Should I want you, I will ring for yon. (Leon exits, \.. i. e., hoicing. (Business.) Philip. How are you, Colonel? Count. Sir; who are yon, what do you mean? Philip. Don't be alarmed, Colonel, 'tis only me. Count. You? Philip. Yes; look at me, don't you know me? Did yon ever hear of. or know a man by the name of Augustus M. Wering? 18 disgrackd; or, the broken s\vort>. [act 1] Who fought side by side as a private soldier, in the old 13th. with him who calls himself Count Stralenheim? Aha ! I see you do recollect him. Count. For mercy's sake, speak lower. Philip. Why should I? Where is the ditference betwixt us- There is none, and you know it. Are you not my old comrade, the sharer of my adventures? Yes, and from this hour hence forth we shall share the same fortune. You've got somethinji worth living for here. Something better than the bare walls of a barrack. Carpets of velvet, and couches of richest silk, mir rors reaching to the ceiling, and Count. For Heaven's sake, not another word; wdiat would you with me? Philip, Oh, you'll find me a magnanimous friend; my demand will be a very modest one, I can assure you. Count. Name it then, name it. Philip. Make my fortune as you have made your own. Count. M3' own; you triumph over me because you think you have me in your power. Philip. You are quite right, comrade. 1 like to bear truth. Count. But, sir; you are mistaken; the crime which you seek to build your power upon was not Philip. Committed by you, I suppose? Will you put me to the proof, eh? Will you try the potency of the spell that ha^ power to change this splendid home into a dungeon? and covei you with infamy; your wife and children with dishonor? You decline my challenge then? You now know that for the future your safety depends upon my discretion. Your long undisturbed dreams of splendor have lulled you into the belief that you were born to the rank and honors 3'ou now hold. Do I speak false in saying that 3^ou were once a common soldier in the gallant 13th. the regiment that the true Count Stralenheim commanded? You do not answer! Pshaw, man; lift up your head, I am not a pitiless fool, who have sought you only to give you up to justice — what have I to do with justice? Behave well to me, and 1 will keep silent, but, if not, woe be to you. I have hunted after you for years, and at last destiny set me on your track. It was neither accident nor fate that transferred me to the (j5tb. I have been exchanged in to nearly every regiment in Germau^^; al ways by my own request, and ahvays w^th the one desire — thai of finding you. Success has now come. My suspicions are ripened into certainty, and I await my reward. Count. Hear me, Meissen. vCT II.] disgraced; ok, the broken swoed. 19 Philip. I want to liear nothing. Yowv liberty and perhaps vuur lite depends upon my breath. Fear naught, I can keep a ^till tongue — hut my silence must he purchased. Count. What is it you require? Philip. Some gold to begin with. (C'oL'XT gix:es piir'se of gold.) Count. I have given you all the loose cash I have about me. but name any reasonable sum and I will write an order for it on my banker. Philip. I will think about it. (Picks up purse.) But I need something else besides money. Count. What is your demand: Philip. A Lieutenants commission in the 65th. Count. No, no, you cariuot be in earnest. Philip. lam not, cli! Was your Countship in earnest when he stole Count. If you are human spare me, spare me. Philip. Very well, then sii-; a Lieutenant's commission in vour regiment. Count. There is no vacancy. Philip. Then you must make one — do you hear me. T say \ 1S0UACEI); OR, THE BROITEN SWOKD. [ACT 11, Count. 'Tis the shadow of retributive — Justice, that closes round me at last. Oh, merciful God—for my wife and childrens suke — stay Thy avenging arm. {Drops in chair in tears.) CURTAIN, ACT III. ScENK r. Lihrnrii in the Ej pecok's Palace. — Tohle irifh papers upon it, b(tuk c((ses, chairs, lounge, etc. — KMrEKoK 'SNilliam and BiSMAKCK discocered examimnj papers. — Inkstand, pe?i, etc., en fa hie. Bisniarck. This is a dis} atcli requesting the immediate pro- motion of one SergeaMt Major Philip Meissen, of the 65th, to the rank of Lieutenant, ( Hands papers, ) Emperor. Has a vacancy occurred? Bis. No, your Highness; I believe not. Em. Then why this promotion r Bis. The request is mside by the Colonel himself. Em. Ah; that alters the case. The Count is incapal>le of making such a deUiand without cogent refisons. T have full con- fidence in his judgment. Prej>are the commissio)i and I will sign it at once. { While Emperor is signing paper Servant enters, r. i. e.) Homer. (Bowing.) Your highness; the young Count Albert Stralenheim desires an interview with your Highness. Em. Admit him. ( 7'o Bismarck. ) My Lord, I have reasons for W shing my interview with this young nobleman to be as pri- vate as possiblcv Please retire. Anon, I'll send for you. Bis. As your Highness desires. Bismarck gathers up papers and exits, l. i. e. Em. How^ the image of that young girl haunts me, I have only seen her twice. Once in the garden of the palace, and the second time, amid the ruins of the temple of Apollo, in company with Albert Stralenheim. And yet, her face and form have left 22 bisgkackd; oh, the ukoken swoac [actih a fadeless impression upon iny memory. An angel's puril seeins to dwell in her dimpled smile, ;ind truth and innocence Mt\ written in fairest characters on her beautiful brow. Woe befall the mnn would wrong her; w^ere he one of my subjects, he shf>ii]d make the fullest atonement. (Enter Homek, r. i. f... followed by Albert.) Hoirter. Your Highness: Count Albert Stralenheim, JExit Homek. r. i. k. ( EiO'EROR i'i.ses and exte?ids hand.) Em. I nv.i hapy to receive you. Albert, be seated. (Bi(.fine.ss.) Albert. I thank your Highness. Em. .^.Ibi'Vt, it is my wish to attach j'ou to my person. The olTjce of private secretary is at your service. Your father has served the State long and faithfully; and whatever honors I cnu confer upon his son, I will. Yon have an elevated nund, and .-i pure h(!art, tind [ am pro^id to add that you possess my full coti fidence and regard. Albert. (Jiising.) Your words, your Highness, are most (hi; fering; and tlu^ loyal service of my life shall s})eak my gratitu descended from the oldest anyo\T au> I indeed happy\ edch has full conlidcneein iln- 'iiher, and can well afford Ia") wait^ I have no ijish to wound my father's sensitive pride; for he has ever been kind and indulgeni to me, and 1 must obey Ins wishes. How happy Genevieve will be when I tell her of my prospective success. What a full toned Joy will resound in her voice, as she speaks out the gratitude of her loving heart. Exit. L. I. [c 2i disgraced; or, the bkoken savokd. [act hi, Scene III. — Interior of Meissen Cottaye^ same as in Act I., in two. — Genkvievk cmi.l Madam M., discovered readinxj and sew ing. — Music. — Enter rmi.ir fhronyh door in fat. 3fadam 31. Why Cai)taiii; you here again V Philip. Don't call ine ("aptain yet, Madeline. Madam 31. Major, then. Philip. Only a Lieutenant, Madeline; the Captainey next, Genevieve, who do you think has won the raee now, you or I? Gen. I do not understand yon, sir. Philip. So I'm not good enough for you yet. Have a care child, thai your pride like others; does not have a fall. 3Iadam 31. You must not notice her Lieutenant, for she's in love, so you must ejccuse her. Love, you know is like youth, and it comes to us only once. Philip. What! Nonsense, Madeline. I have been in love ovei' one hundr.^l time=?. L I'emember when I was quartered in Metz, J was in love with seven gii'ls all at once — or they were with me, which is all the same. 31adara 31. Aye, but you know that you officers are such heart-breakers, .Lieutenant. But come, I've such a nice chicken f(;r you, "Captain, "' and Philiji. I'm not a captain yet. Madam. 3Iad(im. 31. I beg your pardon, sir. Oh I Dear, dear what was I thinking about? Oh, T remember — the chicken. Philip. Nevermind the chicken to day. I dine at the officers mess now. 3fadam M. A glass of Avine then Captain? Philip. Lieutenant, if yon please. (Stamping his foot indignantly.) 3f adorn 3f. Oh, dear me! you brought my heart into my mouth. Madam exits, l. h. Philip. I hope you like the tlavor of it. (To Genevieve.) My promotion does not seem to create much of an impressiov upon you. Ge7i. What im])ression should it make, sir? Philip. Yes, OPenevieve. I have found the lock at last to fit my golden key. I have only given it one turn, and out drops my Lieutenants commission. I shall turn it again in a week, and out will drop my Captaincy — and then how the upstart pride of the noble Count will Gen. The C'ount? 4CT III.] disgk.vckd; ok, the ukoken swohd. 25 Philip. Aye, the man 3011 hope to cmII your father, some of these days. He's a gioat man, Genevieve — the (Jount — rich, titled, poVerful, and has the ear of the Emperor. What a round of U)ftv steps he has climbed — one kiek of tiie foot, and dowa he comes groveling in the mire. Gen. Count Stralenheim deserves the honors he has won, tluy lit h m with becoming grace. Philip. Of course, he was born to them — they take to h'm naturally — well, your lover will 1 e his heir, and if the Count would only give his consent to your maniage, what superb pros- l»ect you would have, bhall I intercede for youV he wdl hardly refuse me. Gen. [Eising proudly.) Ko, No, Lieutenant Meissen ; if one trivial movement of your lips would break down the only Inirrier that prevents my marrying with Albert vStralenheim, I would choose to -walk through long years of loveless life, rather than that you should make it. Pursue your own tortuous ways for your own woi-tldess ends; I can stand alone without your aid. MUSIC. [Grosping Jicr roufjhly.) Philip. You defy me then, do you? You know not the power I hold over him you Love; that witii one whisper I could make him cringe before me like a whipped cur. ^>hall I breath it, Eh? Gen. Mother! Mother! [Enter Madam M., l. u.) 3fadam M. Why, Captain; you will hurt the child — let go of her. ( Business. ) Philip. Yes, I can bend the pride of the father and son, as easily as L now bend the joints of these soft arms; and then you will have something to love me for — won't 3'ou, little one? [Business.) Gen. Let go or you'll break my wrist. Philip. I'll break your heart and give you something to hate aie for in earnest. ( G ENE V I EVE cries. ) Gen. Mother, Mother! Save me from this inhuman wretch Philip. Aye; you will yet have cause to call me an inhuman wretch, when I have sunk the whole brood of them lower than the dust. MUSIC. 26 disgraced; ok, the buoken sword. [act in. (Gevkvieve shrinks. Philip striMjyles rouijhly with her, as if to kiss her. — Albert enters door in /iat (ind knocks Pi.ilip dotcn.) Madam 3f. Mevcy on me, he lias killed the Cnptain. PICTUHE. Albert. Who is this fellow, Genevieve; and what business has he here? Philip. (Bising.) I will ansvver that, sir; I'm an oflicer in the Kmperor's body guard, and curse me if you do not repent this. Albert. I was not aware there was an officer in my father's reuinunt, who would so far forget himself as to offer insult to an nni)roteeted girl; and I regret to see that uniform disgraced on your person. Look on this ijoor frightened girl, clinging to me in fear and trembling. Phili[). Farewell, Albert Stralenheim. The Colonel's son — some day you w 11 r.'gret this insult Exit Philip, k. i. e. Scene IV. — Wood or landscape, iti one. I Enter Leon xery stiffly and slowly, k. i. e,, vnth umbrella under his arm, and large official documents in his hand, Leon. [S owly.) '•'Non coniatibus en swampo up stumpo com- niitibus grabus, sic semper tyranus — et saleratibus'" — which being interpreted, means — nothing at all. What wonderful faith must inv master repose in me, to entrust in my care, these imiwrtant otiicial do(;uments relating to the vast sale of de cimiposed vege- tation that has accumulated by atomic augmentation, without the least fear of my misappropriation or of confiscation. But years of attention and mental circumnavigation, have given him full confidence in ray ability to contract a negotiation in this vast speculation. (Looks off' L. n.) Ah; hither cometh the quaint valetudinarian. I will salute him, and ascertain whither he goeth, and upon what mission he ))er-aml>ulateth? [filter HoMEK, L. I. E , slowly, digniffclly and pompously with um- brella and papers, same as Leon.) (Business.) Leon. (Bowing very low.) Good morrow, most res|)ected Ilo- mer-i bus. If it be not to iiuiuisitive, may I enipiire whither thou aoeth? ACT III.] disgraced; ok, the broken sword. Homer. Most eertainly iii\ (.•nuu-iatfd and elongated fncnd. I am the bearer of very inipoitant dispatelies to the* chief but- ler, and the rnast(.'r of the hound lodge of his Royal Iliihriess, anti have no time to loose while on my important mission. But tell me n)y friend, weit thou ever in loveV Leon. love! Do not mention it. Foi" three months did 1 court a prt tty maiden, and more than ten thalers did 1 disburse upon her in that time. She had three other lovers at the same time — a tai)ster, a tinker and an ostler. 1 promised to cudgel the three of them if she would only say the word, but sJie would not. Was that not proof enough that I loved. No man knows the heart pangs I have suffered. Yes, she went and Jilted me. Excuse these tears, they will flow — alas! alas! my heart is broken — I cannot live much longer — J will wear a weed around my hat for the balance of my days. Homer. Do not give vvay, my trien;!. I have suffered. O. false, false Cathrina. But my friend, keep up a good heart, be a man— look at me and be a man — be a brave man. Leon. Thou art not brave. Hovier. Man doth not walk this earth braver than I am. But in the words of the poet, "he that fights and runs away, will live to fight another day." — Shakespeare. {Business.) Leon. Stay, more T look at thee, more I gaze into tliose deep blue dreamy eyes, more I scan that manly form, more am I tempted to think thou art — stay, hath thou a mole, the mark of a cabbage under thy left wrist? Homer. I have. Leon. Then thou art m}- long lost brother. ( Tim bra ce. Bus in ess. ) Hotner. Is it indeed my brotl)er? Yes, as like as one pea is to another; two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one. Leon. And if I love too wildly, who would not love thee like Leon. ^ Homer. Come brother, come, let's wander, and find some^,. cafe, wdiere with pipe and foaming glass we can while the time away. ( Business. ) £xii L. I. E. ce 28 disgraced; or, the bkokejs swokd. [Acrni. Sc ^NE V. — Parlor, same as in Act IF, Scene /, irith some altera- tion in setting, conform ivy to depth of stage. — Count and Countess ^TK.\LLNHt.iM discovered seated. Enter l^v.ns, u. i. e., bowing very low. Leon. Your Hiolmosp, Lieutenant ^leisseu, of the Goth, de-. sires an interview with the Count alone. Count. I will not see him. Why should my privacy be thus disturbed? I will not see him! (Leon mora toward the door.) Lady G. N' » No; Count, that answs'r will not do — tliat mes sage wdl sound too harsh. Tell him you are engaged Count. 1 have it now. Leon, when 1 strike the bell you may admit him, and not before, Leon. Yes, your Highness. Exit Leon, l. i. e. Lady O. This man seems to hold some strange and terrible intluence over you ; the very sound of his name inspires you with fear. Why does he visit you so frequently? Since his first visit your temper, once so calm and placid, has given way to angry gusts of passion. The doom of midnight seems to have crept into your heart. Tell me, tell me, I implore you? What dark mystery lies hidden there? Count. Believe m.e, Gertrude, 'tis nothing; nothing only some urgent business connected with the regiment, 1 have been in- strumental in this man's promotion, and he believe-; that he best evinces his gratitude, by an aver zealous display of military duty — ^join our childien in the arbor for a few moments, Gertrude; he will not detain me long. Anon; I'll come to you. Exit Countess, l. h, (Count strikes the bell.) (Leon enters with Philip, l. i. e., and bowing low.) Leon. Lieutenant Meissen, Leon exits, u. i, E. [Business.) 0)tmt. Can I not have one single moment in the society of those I love, without your interruption? What new torture has your brain invented for me now? Philip. Colonel, you are very bitter with your old comrade. I have been so kind to you. Another man might have; denounced you, dragged you to a public trial, and ACT III.] 1>TSGRACEI>; OR, THE BHOKKK SWORl). , 2S Coiint. I know your jiower, man, too well ; state j^our demand, rob nie of* m^ l.-ist coin, but leave me the precious niemoiy of an honorable career. Pht'/ij). Rob you., Colonel! Oh, no; I never ttX)k to the thief 's trade yet. My c, very mucli indeed. Count. Can 1 do anything for you, Captain? Philip. Yes, remain here, and listen to nte. You have pur jjosey avoided me to night, and a majority of your guests have followed your exami)le. Now, stay here beside me where every eye in the room ean see us. Count. Pray speak lower; do not at k'ast seek to humiliate me in the presence of my own ehildren. Philip. I shall speak as loud as I choose. I haA'e been hu miliateu, and it is now I turn tiie tables. Now understand me, you t.Vi rich; I must he rich too. You are noble, and by all the saints in the calendar, 1 will be noble too. Covnt. Noble? Philip. Tluit's the word, sir! Noble. I'll show these proud foo s, that I can hold my head as high as any of them. Count. For heaven's sake speak lower, or find some other tJTiH' to specify \our wishes, Pl,i ip. Yes, a patent of nobility gained by your infiuonce>, C<.unt. JMakp" your demand to morrow, when J can. reason with yon upon its f( 1 y. Philip. Why to-morrow? Are you ashamed to be seen spei)k ing with me? 31y demauil is made now. No prevarication — your answer? 32 disgracitd; or, the broken sword. [act iv. Count. Uiion what grouiul can I bcase such a request to the Emperor? PhiliiJ. I leave that to your own discretion. You may grovel, and pray, and whimper, or you may sell half of these estates to purciiase t; but the patent of nobility must he issued and in my hands. That will be one step more towards the achievement of another desire'. Count. Another desire? Philip, Yes. 1 intend to marry. Count. Be it so, you cannot reijuire any advancement from n e in a step of that nature? Philip. Sir; you are mistaken there, the lad}' I have selected btlongS"to yonr family. " Count. To my family? Philip. Yes, the chosen one of my heart, is Ernestine Stral enheim — your lovely' daughter, {^husiness.) You do well to pause — you woidd doubtless strike me, if 30U thought the blow would silence me. Count. Wretch! you do not mean that. Philip. Sir; listen to m^ I have been crowed over and jeered at tocbiy, until my blood has been heated into a passion, and I am dange;'ous. Count. Oh, God! This is the consequence cf Philip. Yo ir crim '—you naviir shrank from the crime itself, . but you now shrink from detection. You saw no dishonor in the deed when 3'^ou perpetrated it — that lies in the inevitable dis covery unless Count. ( Wildly.) What? You told me something, — but it flashed like lightning through my brain, and scorched my mem ory — let me reflect. Philip. I want to marry your daughter. Count. Ah! those fearfid words again. You cannot be in earnest, this is only a heartless jest. If you have one glimmer of a father's love in your heart, you would know how sharply 1 fee! the stab. I will forgive you this time, but thrust at me in future through any other form, save throi>gh t]»e affections of those who are more precious to me than life, wealth, or Philip. Honor? Count. Yes, even honor. That young life is full of promise, radient with hope, and I hold it at higher value than all else on earth. Ask for any sacrifice that does not touch jxiy sinless wife, my pure and spotless children, and I will make it to preserve iCT VI.] disgraced; ok, the bkoken savord. 33 their ))eaoe — not mine — for while vou live and carry the fatal secret on 30ur tongue, the haunted criminal is less wretched than r.m I. Philip. Your tine words will not turn me from my purpose; I .i.ni not yet penitent. I have told you ihe final sum at wliich iny silence can be purchased. Count. Oh, God! If you have a heart, he-think 3'ou; she has been reared in the lap of luxury, her young- form has grown from infancy under the fostering care of her noble mother. The affi- anced ioverof her virgin heart now^ stands beside her, hopeful for the morrow that is about to dawn upon their blissful union. Kven if I consentod, could you lead a jo3'ous, loveless, not bride, but a vi 'tim to the altei-? Philip. I have already told you that is the final sum, at which my silence can be bought. Count. I'll talk to rock — to ice — no longer. Philip. Your answer; come. Count. What? give my dove into your vulturous claws? Js'o, never! Never! Philip. Beware, sir; be heedful of your speech, my noble Count, or those strains of music will be harsh with discord pres- ently — once for all — will you— or will you not — oive me youi daughter in marriage? Count, Never: no never! Philip. One word and it will be as irrevocable as eternal jus- tice. If you do not instantU' present me to your guests as your future son-in-law. Count. What? [Breaking away from Philip.) Philip. 1 will publicly denounce you. Count. [Grandly.) Wretch! Monster! I loathe, despise and defy 3'ou. Do your worst! [Business.) [3fusic ceases, and guests gather around the Count and Philip.) Philip. Hold! hold! Those titles would better become you than that of Count [Business.) MUSIC. Count. Captain Wallenstein, I order you to place Captain Meissen in arrest. Wallenstein. Your sword. Captain! Philip. Hear me, one moment gentlemen, one moment. 34 DISGRACI't); OH, IHK BKOKKN SWOUD. [aCTIV< Count. Heed him not, heeil liiiii not — bear him away, 1 com mand you. Philip. Here is my swoivl, sir; take it, (hands it to Wali.k's STKiN,) and with it listen to me. Tliis man who stands here as the Colonel of the 65th, lias no I'ight to that distinction. lie is an imposter. The title of Count Stralenheim which he bears, is no more his than mine. Years ago this tlattered, courted, fool, was my comrade in arms, we were both private soldiers in the same regiment, the 13th batallion to which the true Count Stralenheim belonged — whose wealth he stole — whose title he assumed — and whose life he took with his own murderous hand. Deny these acquisitions if you dare! [Business.) [Consternation^ Albert (/rasps his father'' s hand, and the Count- ess ^EKiKVDK faints.) Albert. Count Stralenheim will answer this vile calumn}', sir, with th6 voice of truth and innocence. [Business.) Count. Captain Wallen stein, obey my orders — remove your prisoner. ^\y son, 1 thank you for your courage, look to 3'our mother and yojiir sisters. Ladies and gentlemen, I will answer to this caluminous charge, to my sovereign. PICTITRE, CURTAIN. ACT Y. ScKNE T. — The libra rt/ in f'ouvT Stralenheim's mansion. — Count Stralenheim discovered. — Books and papers lyini] upon the table, stool, etc. — Knock at 'he doer, r. i. e. Count. Who's there? I thouolit I liad locked the door. {Enter Ekxestine, icho kneels at her father' s feet.) Ernestine, child is it you? ( J:usiness.) Frtiest. Father! [In tears.) Coimt. Yes, yes; I am your father, Ernestine, your sliarne strifk'u father. Ernest. Oh, father, tha* cruel man, said ^'ou were — oh, I can- not sDPak the word. Count. A murderer! Look in my eyes, my child, and tell me if you think that name be'ono^s to me? Say whether you be- lieve, this hand that now touches your innocent cheek has ever been stained by human blood? (Business. ) Ernest. No. no dear father, I do not believe it. I never will, Ccuut. (Aside.) Oh, the truf^t'ncness of youth; even when the laws of vengeance is wreaked u]'on me, the aflectiou of this pure heart will follow me with blessings. My child, have the gu('!-ts departed? Ernest. Yes, father, all, Cottnt. And Count Steinberg? Ernest. H? remained after all had gone, praying to see me, but we must l>e strangers to each other now, until this vile slan der is cleared from our name. Count. But Ernestine, if circumstances have linked a chain 36 pisGRACEto; Or, the broken swORt*. [act v, of suspicious evidence against me — a chain so strong that all my asservations are powerless to break it, must your pure heart be robbed of its hope, your life of its summer, liecause Oh, God! Oh, God! (Biishie.fs.) {Enter Officer ami flle of three men, u \. E.^with jinpers.) Officer. Count Stralenheim, I hold a warrant from the Era peror for your instant arrest; also a further order, placing under strictest suiveillance, your family and servants. No one must enter or leave this house without my written consent. A car riage is waiting without to convey you to the Emperor's palace. You will prepare to go immediately. ■ [Business.) Ernest. {Clinging to him.) Father, father may I not go with you? Count. No, no, ray child, from this moment 3'ou must gather a woman's strength in your heart. This is but the first taste of the bitter cup that we are so soon to drink to the very dregs. Good bye m^- child, good bye, and may God bless you. {Bv^iness.) {Kisses EuNESTiNi? ferventlj.) Ernest. Father! Father! Father! MUSIC. {Business.) {Officer supports Ernestine, who falls fainting to the floor. Ladt Gertrude and Cecelia enter r. and l. h. Officers takes hold of the Count a* if dragging him. away. Lady G., clings to the Count and Cecelia kneels.) picture. curtain. ACT VI. Scene I. — Library in the Emperor's Palace, elegantly fun} ished, — The Emperor discovered seated examining papers. Page, (Entering l. i. e. ) Your Highness, a young girl craves an audience witli the Emperor. Em. A young girl, is she alone? Page. No, your Highness; she is accompanied l»y ah aged lady. Em. What is tiie nature of her business? Page. She reserves that for your ear alone, your Highiiess, Em. Her name? Page. She gave only one name, Genevieve^ Em. Genevieve! That name is unknown to me — neverthe- less, a Imit her. [Exit Page l. i. e,, and enter tvith Genenieve nnd Madam M., E. I. E.) Page. (Bowing.) The ladies of whom I spoke^ your Highness. (Busines.s.) Em. You may retire, gentlemen. Exit Page and Bismarck, l i. E. Be seated, ladies. Genevieve. My Leige, I have ventured to intrude upon your patienie, on behalf of a family, lately happy, but now alas! plunged in deepest despair; trusting Em. 1 know lady, of whom yon speak. Count Stralenheim, is it not? Gen. It is, your Highness. Em. Are you aware lady, that the Count is charged with a most terrible crime? 38 disgkackd; or, the bi;okkn sword. [act vi. Gen. Yes, your Highness; nnd I also know that his accuser is a cruel, wicked man, to wlioni truth and honor are words without meaning'. Em. Granting all of this, lady, still I can see no palliation for the Count's guilt, in his ai-cusers wickedness. Gen. If he be guilty, the greater the reason that his inno- cent wife and children shouhl find pity and comj^assion. They are at least blameless. Oh, your Highness, you are great and powerful; be generous too, "and temper justice with mercy," Em. The law mu~t take its course, lady. The Count has dug the abyss of shame with his own hands. Answer me, Lady, are you not the maiden to whom the young Count Albert Stralen- heim, has given his love. Gen. I am, youi Highness. Em. Are you aware, lady, that that young man's prospects are novv ruin.'d forever? You will of course forget him. Gen. Forget him, your Highness — yes, in death. When Al- bert Stralenheim sought my love, he believed himself to be rich and noble, he knew that I was poor and low born; still, he was content to take me to the alter, to lift nie to his station; and shall 1 novv, when misery over-siiadows him, meanly forsake himr No, your Highness, he may need my strength — a feeble woman's strengh — to sustain him, and it shall not be withheld. But 1 come not to speak of myself; I am here to plead for the uidiappy. You are the Sovereign and judge of these States; cannot youi Highness vouchsafe to the Count a private examination? Em. To what end? Gen. To spare him if innocent, the indignity of a public trial. My heart tells me he is guiltless of this crime. I believe him to be the victim of some crafty [)lot, formed by this worthless Meis- sen's cunning brain. You do not know that man's baseness, your Highness. The venom of the serpent, and the cowardice of the wolf lurks in his nature. (Genkvieve returns up the staite.) Em. Yes, yes; my desire to ■a? «<> \^ .. -^ c ml J ST. AUGUSTINE