LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Chap. Copyright No. 
 
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 - Sts 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
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 THE STORY OF INEZ 
 
 
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 ^s Pwre and Wholesome as the Sun and Air^ 
 
 As Typical of California as its Fruits and Flowers, 
 
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58432 
 
 jj-ibrMi y of Cornff^'mm 
 
 OCT 8 1900 
 
 Cof yright «irtry 
 
 SECOWn COPY. 
 
 0<-*Hf«<«d in 
 
 OHOiH DWISION, 
 
 JIOT P,P. 19(10 
 
 Copyright 1898, 
 . -by- 
 CHARLES VINCENT KAVANAGH. 
 
ld^:ik^ . 
 
 ^^^,i^<^''^^^JJ^^^ 
 
 ^»^^^J^/^, 
 
 yw Among those to whom I am espeeiallij^ 
 indebted for many kindnesses I wish to 
 particularly render due acknowledgement 
 to my brother, 
 
 Fred IVilliam: Kauanagh. 
 for generous assistance and encouragement, 
 in the preparation and presentation of 
 
 this play. 
 
 rvh 
 
 
TO MY NATIVE STATE — 
 
 <^^ 
 
 <^^ 
 
 m 
 
 3^lie perusal of the history of which is at once a lesson and 
 ) an example of all tliat is most noble and glorious in 
 the field of human endeavor and from the pages of which 
 "THE STORY OF INEZ" was fashioned. 
 
 t. 
 
'^'*^^ *'**'^ -i^^^^Jf <sS»- 
 
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 One Hundred Copies of this Edition 
 have been printed of which this is 
 
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 untez. 
 
 
 Soirdstar pine-clad hills w^ers never, 
 
 Siveeter fflo'wers iirere never •wreatlied, 
 
 Sioreeter life in snintner season, 
 
 S'weeter air "was never lireatlied, 
 
 Gentler maiden tlian fair Inez, 
 
 Pnrer love in heart and m.ind. 
 
 Never "beat in breast of ■sroman, 
 j&^gel sanl ixL xsretznan Iklnd* 
 
 R, H. K, 
 
 ^f 
 
SCENES OF THE PLAY. 
 
 "2^-^^— ^ 
 
 -A.OT I. 
 
 MDNTEREY, » CALIFORNIA 
 
 — ( An interval of ONE DAY. )— 
 
 RANCHD EL MARID, 
 
 — ( An interval of TWENTY YEABS. )- 
 
 SAME AS ACT II, 
 
 -(Au interval of SIX YEARS. )— 
 
 SACRISTY, 
 
 SAN CARLCS BDRRDMED, MnnterBy 
 ^ M. M 
 
 LOCATION, TIME, PERIOD. 
 
 MONTEREY. CAL 1852. EARLY GAL 
 
* PERSONS OF THE PLAY, * 
 
 3^^?_^tir 
 
 John Van Eaer, An Attorney. 
 
 Don Luis MazJilveda, . of Rancho El Mario. 
 
 Padre Salcedo, of Mission San Carlos. 
 
 Judge Blackson, of Blackson & Moreland. 
 
 -Major McGlory, U. S. A. 
 
 Lieutenant t^imcoe, U. S. A. 
 
 Andreo Mazalveda, of Mission San Carlos, 
 
 Felipe, . of the Rancho El Mario, 
 
 Benito, Attendant at Mission San Carlos. 
 
 Inez Mazalveda, Daughter of Don Luis Mazalveda. 
 
 Edith Blackson, Daughter of Judge Blackson. 
 
 1st. Child 
 
 Children. 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 3 j^ FXjJi^ir. (^ 
 ACT J. 
 
 MDNTEREY, CALIFDRNIfl 
 
 S(JEXK Street in Monterey, showing Old Custom House on 
 
 L. Avitli flag-pole fastened to corner. On R. is a row of houses 
 built ill style peculiar to the period. Over doorway of house R. 1. 
 E, is a. sign reading, ''Office of Blackson & Moreland." As curtain 
 rises discloses empty stage. Music is heard and procession of 
 cliildrcM enters singing and bearing flowers in their hands. The 
 girls a ic all dressed in white, having long, loose white veils float- 
 ing from wreatbs on tbeir heads, allowing faces to be seen. The 
 comi>l('xi()ns of the children range in color from the very dark Ind- 
 ian tint to the lighter though still dark olive hue of the Spaniard 
 while some few are perfectly white as if Americans. The process- 
 ion (Miters L. U. E. and after marching around fountain, placed at 
 center of stage, exeunt R. U. E. leaving McGlory and Simcoe who 
 'have ent<.'red last L. and are watching the children, alone. They 
 gradually advance to front. 
 
 Mc (i A very pretty sight. Lieutenant? 
 
 Sim Very Major, and yet a common one hereabouts. You 
 
 see the population of Monterey is very religious and 
 all the customs and ceremonies of their church are 
 most devoutly and rigidly observed. 
 
 Mc (r Tliis was a religious procession then? 
 
 Sim Yes, in fact, the children go to be confirmed. In the 
 
 olden time this was esteemed a very great occasion 
 and the ceremonies attendant upon its bestowal were 
 
12 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 very beautiful and impressive. Nowadays however 
 the presence here of the "Gringo," in such large num- 
 bers makes it very difficult for the Padres to continue 
 all those old customs and traditions which are so dear 
 to them. 
 
 Me G A curious people, Simcoe. Having but just arrived 
 
 from an eastern post, I observe them with greater in- 
 terest. Have you been stationed here long? 
 
 Hii»i. Yes, in fact ever since we acquired California. I say 
 
 "acquired," for that is the term by which that process 
 which procured us the State is known. That is at 
 least the diplomatic way of expressing it. 
 
 Mc (t Diplomacy has a lexicon of its own Simcoe, and its 
 
 terms if unusual are fraught with meaning. . But 
 about these people? 
 
 Sill, The people here Major, are indeed most interesting 
 
 and when you know them better, you will learn to 
 admire and to respect them. Wedded to their old and 
 treasured memories, they present a spectacle that is 
 most charming, Impracticability and the absence of 
 those qualities of adaptability and industry have been 
 their undoing. Lacking the enterprise and progress - 
 iveness that is so striking a characteristic of our peo- 
 ple, they believed that their beautiful Arcadian exis- 
 tence was destined to continue forever. 
 
 Mc G Still it was impossible for Spain to retain the State. 
 
 Sim Yes, and to the older families who remained loyal t(» 
 
 the mother country, the separation of California from 
 Spain was a terrible affliction. When Mexico declared 
 her Independence and assumed control here, Califor- 
 nia sustained the first serious interruption to its pro- 
 gress at the hands of the unscrupulous ministers of 
 the young Republic. 
 
 Mr G Yes, but the usurpers were themselves Spanish? 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 13. 
 
 Sim True and this might have been endured with patience 
 
 perhaps, but when the State passed from the feeble 
 control of Mexico and was forever lost to the Spanish 
 their anguish knew no bounds. 
 
 McG But as it was inevitable that eventually the United 
 
 States must take California, why then do they repine 
 over what they must have know could not be avoided? 
 
 Sim Nevertheless Major, they do regret it for they can 
 
 never forget that California once was theirs, nor 
 can they forgive us for having wrested from them a 
 country to which they were attached by the memory 
 of its discovery and of their achievements, 
 
 McG And for the American people Simcoe, do they still 
 
 treasure in their hearts the fury of their resentment? 
 
 Sim, By no means Major. Primarily the "Don" is a gentle- 
 man and he harbors no feeling of animosity against 
 us as distinct individuals. Rather is it against the 
 people as a nation that his hatred is directed. But 
 here comes Van Raer, you could not consult a better 
 authority on these matters than he. 
 [Enter Van Raer, L. U. E.] ^ 
 
 Van [advancing to McG. and shaking hands.] Ah Major, 
 
 welcome to Monterey. Good morning, Simcoe. 
 
 McG Thanks. We have just been discussing the early pro- 
 prietors, Mr. Van Raer and Simcoe has referred me 
 to you for further information on the subject 
 
 Van, Has he? Well, you see Major, our firm has acquired a 
 
 great practice among our Spanish friends and naturally 
 I take a deep if somewhat selfish interest in all that 
 (Concerns them, hence the reference to me. Can I be 
 of any service to you? 
 
 Sini. The Major has just been inquiring the reasons for tlie 
 
 continuance of ill-feeling between the older Spanish 
 residents and our newer American arrivals. 
 
14 THE STOEY OF INEZ. 
 
 Van Ah, indeed. Well that is very simple. You are aware 
 
 perhaps of all that has occurred prior to our occupation 
 Major? 
 
 McG Oh, yes, Himcoe has been instructing mo. 
 
 Van Well, after the acquisition of California by tlie United 
 
 States, came naturally the settlement of all those vex- 
 atious land cases which have really caused all the 
 friction between the two peoples since tlie raisiiig of 
 •'Old Glory" on yonder fiagstaflf. [points to pole on 
 Custom House.] * 
 
 McG Here then is where that historic event <x-curred, eh? 
 
 Sim Precisely. That was the Spanish Custom House an<i 
 
 it was here that our Commodore Sloat landed and 
 assumed possession. 
 
 McG... ..Indeed? How interesting! 
 
 Van The "Dons" were most careless in the matter of the 
 
 proper registration of their titles and grants, which the 
 mother country of Spain and later the Mexican govern- 
 ment had given them. Naturally tlien, since these grants 
 were issued many changes have occurred in the govern- 
 ment and great confusion has resulted, whereby many of 
 these titles to immense quantities of land have become 
 imperiled. In order to secure themselves and their 
 descendants,these old Spanish families are now endeavor- 
 ing to have their claims so protected as to remove thcjii 
 from the assaults of our enterprising though unscrupul- 
 ous speculators. In this branch of the legal business 
 our firm has established a splendid reputation and conse- 
 quently we have been retained on a great many of these 
 celebrated cases, in fact tliat is precisely what brings 
 me to Monterey at this time. 
 
 Hijn What particular c:ise have you here Van Raer? 
 
 V;mi That of the Rancho El Mario. You know Simco(^, 
 
 the Don Louis Mazalveda. 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 15 
 
 Sim He wlio has the lovely daughter? 
 
 Van Precisely, It is the validity of liis title to El Mario that 
 
 we are at present defending. 
 
 Sim Indeed! I had heard something of it but had forgotten. 
 
 Bytheway, where were you last evening? I did hot 
 see you at thedance : th(( lovely Senoi-itjj Inez Mazalveda 
 was there. 
 
 JV^an Was she? I was busy nearly all night arranging the 
 
 papers in our case and so was prevented from attending. 
 Judge Blackson, the senior member of our firm arrived 
 today, have you met him as yet? 
 
 MeG I have. His daughter aecomi)anies him, a most 
 
 charming girl. 
 
 Sim [Impulsively] What? A new face in town and I di<i 
 
 not know it? A " most charming girl '' ditl you s;i>' 
 Major, and you have met her? 
 
 McG Oh yes, and slie is a real beauty too. 
 
 Sim Good Heavens, a lovely " Gringo "? I'm losing valuable 
 
 time, [grasps xMcG. by the arm and attempts to pull 
 him away] <^ome ( dragging Mc G.) they both exeunt 
 K. U. E. 
 
 Van (alone and in an agitated manner) What can have 
 
 brought Edith to Monterey. Surely no hint of Inez 
 could have reached her and yet — her sudden appear- 
 ance here alarms me. (fiercely) What damnable fatality 
 drew me hither to so involve myself as to be beyond the 
 hope of honorable retreat. Pledged to Edith I have 
 allowed myself to become attached to Inez, only to cause 
 her pain and humiliation. How am I to tell Inez who 
 has learned to love me and trust me, that I am to 
 marry another, that all my protestations were false ajid 
 that I am a scoundrel. 
 (Enter Felipe R. U. E.) 
 
 Fel Senor Van Raer? 
 
 Van (turning) Ah, Felipe, what news? 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. KJ 
 
 Fel The vSenorita Mazalveda orders me to say to you, that 
 
 she has heard with pleasure of the arrival at Monterey 
 of the Senor and Senorita Blaeksoii, and tliat she 
 will do herself the honor to call upon them this after- 
 noon and will heg of them to visit tlie Raneho 
 El Mario, there to reside during their sojourn here. 
 
 Van .Convey to the Senorita Mazalveda my sincere thanks 
 
 for her great courtesy to my friends and inform her 
 that I will nij'self prepare for her introduction to them. 
 
 Fel. Gracias Senor, the Senorita Inez will he delighted. 
 
 ' (exit R, U. E., as Edith enters L. U, E.) 
 
 Van Ah Edith, you have managed to find your way unat- 
 tended? 
 
 Ed. .... . Oh yes, John. Of what should I he afraid? Why every- 
 thing is so quiet here lliat T am sure that nothing could 
 happen to me. 
 
 Van And you are right Kditli. Monterey is very quiet and 
 
 peaceful and I am ghid that you like it. 
 
 Ed Oh yes I admire it greatly, it is such a dear delightful 
 
 old place, so full of sejiliment and memories and those 
 old Spanish fjimilies are positivel}^ irresistible, though 
 the}- are so everlastingly ceremonious and polite. 
 
 Van 1 am pleased that you have taken to them Edith, for 
 
 I have learned to like and to respect them. 
 
 Ed How strange and quiet you are! Wliat lias caused 
 
 you to conceive so violent an admiration for them. 
 
 Van (seriously) For nearly three-<iuarters of a century, Editli, 
 
 the Spaniard has owned and controlled California and 
 during that time he has learned to love and revere it as 
 his very own. He it was who discovered it and it was 
 he who lias settled and im|iroved it. From nothing he 
 lias developed a paradise whicli is to him, a new father- 
 land. Here it was that liis cJiildren and his children's 
 
THE 8TORY OF INEZ. 17 
 
 children wero born and to them it is their native land. 
 For all these years he lias continued working and 
 striving and only living for it and now it is his no longer. 
 Now he is compelled to give place to an<jther and 
 stronger people than hi>§ own, and he is sad. It is 
 simply the survival of the fittest and while it is natural 
 that as an American I should feel proud to own tliis 
 beautiful land, Avhich is every day becoming richer 
 ^ and stronger, still I cannot resist extending my sym- 
 
 pathy to these people, who bear their reverses with 
 such calm and dignified resignation. 
 
 Ed Oh, bother your dreadful sentimentality; it makes you 
 
 too serious and if you are not careful, will put wrink- 
 les in your forehead. T live in the present, not in the 
 dark and dismal past ; the problems that interested 
 our predecessors have no attractions for me. Let us 
 talk of somelhing else. 
 
 Van As you will Edith, but that reminds me, this afternoon 
 
 I will have the honor I hope, of presenting to you 
 the Senorita Inez Mazalveda, of the Rancho El Mario. 
 You will remember, that this is the case which has 
 brought me hither and which also in bringing your 
 father to Monterey, has secured to me the jjleasure of 
 seeing yourself. 
 
 Ed How nice; you are improving. I will be delighted to 
 
 meet her. Is she pretty? 
 
 Van (gravely) Very. 
 
 Ed (naievely) Indeed? I shall be afraid of her I think. 
 
 With such a. lovely name, she must be irresistible. 
 
 Van Ah Edith, she is as good as she is beautiful and I am 
 
 sure that you will like her at once. She is the "Lady 
 Bountiful" here; and all the people fairly worship her. 
 
 Ed How interesting? From your description I am sure 
 
 that I shall love her at once. 
 
18 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Va,si Well, let us talk of ourselves a little. I am not sure 
 
 that this is quite the proper place to hroach such a 
 subject, but perhaps it is as well chosen as any that I 
 could find here. Your father has intimated to me his 
 desire that I should enter the firm at once, as he is 
 determined to retire upon the conclusion of the present 
 litigation. 
 
 Ed Oh John, I am very glad. 
 
 Yiin. .... .1 thought perhaps that in view of that contingency we 
 
 may as well announce the fact of our engagement at 
 tlie same time. I feel assured that your father will 
 approve of this ; and I know that I most heartily desire 
 it. Of course I am aware that this is somewhat uncon^ 
 ventional, but the circumstances are such that it can 
 hardly be otherwise. 
 
 Ed . Well John dear, I am sure that whatever you do is for 
 
 the best. You know that I have always assented to your 
 wdsh, to have it remain quiet for the time, owing to 
 your exaggerated notion of what the world would say. 
 Just as if I cartnl whatever it might say. 
 
 Van (taking her liand and speaking very seriously and 
 
 earnestly) W^ell dear, you have made me very happy 
 and my only regret now is, that I have remained silent 
 so long. Edith dear, I shall be very good to you, and 
 the words I said to you when you listened to my plead- 
 ings, I now repeat. You are all the world tome, and 
 you shall remain so to the end. 
 
 Ed. Oh we shall be all the world to each other Jolui, and T 
 
 feel sure we shall be very happy. 
 
 Van liut liere is your father now. Perhaps I could do no 
 
 better tliau to tell him at once, I will avail myself of 
 the opportunity. (Enter Blackson, Major and Simcoe 
 K. U. E. ) 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 19 
 
 Blnck Ah! Edith, T thought 1 li^houUl i\nd you somowht'ie 
 
 around here. The Major wishes to introihice this 
 gentleman to you. 
 
 Mc(t Miss BLickson, allow uie to present my J'riend, Lieu- 
 tenant Simcoe. 
 
 Ed I am pleased to mec^t any friend of tlie Major's. 
 
 Sim (bowing) The pleasure,! :im sure, is mine, Miss Blnekson. 
 
 *Black. You have a quiet post here, I imagine? 
 
 McG Very quiet, Judge, in faet, there is so litth' to attend 
 
 to here, that I believe tlie government will soon 
 abandon Monterey, and will remove the eommand to 
 San Franeiseo. 
 
 Sim Well! that is news indeed, JVlajor, and I, for one, ean 
 
 assure you that I shall be very glad of the ehange. 
 
 , Mc(i No doubt. Monterey is a little sl(^w, eh? 
 
 Sim Why! it does'nt move at all. It's positively dead, it's 
 
 so very quiet here. 
 
 Ed Why! how can you say so. Lieutenant Simcoe?! think 
 
 it 's just lovely; I could live here charmingly, every- 
 thing is so interesting to nje. 
 
 (Enter Inez, L. U. E., who, seeing the party conversing, 
 does not interrupt them , but listens, awaiting cue. ) 
 
 Black. I guess you could, Edith, you have always admired this 
 (^uiet sort of thing. But what say you. Van Raer, shall 
 I announce the good new^s? 
 
 Xi\n As you will. Judge, I have already prepared Edith for 
 
 it, it requires your authoiity to make it legal. 
 
 Black Well Edith, I have some ])leasant intelligence to 
 
 communicate. And for you gentlemen, I have also 
 some news. From this day on, w^e have a new partner in 
 our firm, and our title will be " Blackson, Moreland 
 & Van Raer." Congratulate me on our new acquisition? 
 Edith. 
 
20 THE STORY OF INE/,. 
 
 K^l Oil father, J am very ijjlad. I am sure that you can 
 
 take a loiij; rest now, as John ean take your place, 
 
 Inez ( at back, startle<I. ) .John? 
 
 Ynu Yes Judge, we have heen planning for a long time now, 
 
 on your account, all tending towards a long vacation 
 for you, and, ( turning to Edith. ) I am very glad that 
 you will have your wish at last, dear. 
 
 Inez .(greatly agitated.) ])ear? My God! what can this 
 
 mean? 
 
 Mc(r. . .My hand, Van Raer, I wish you every success. 
 
 A'an Thanks, Major; and you Simcoe? 
 
 ^ini Well, I rather think the Judge is to be congratulated; 
 
 lie has got the best of the bargain. 
 
 Van ( shaking hands with ^im. ) Just like you, my boy. 
 
 Black x\nd I agree with Simcoe; I consider that we are very 
 
 fortunaI(\ 
 
 Van ....: Well Edith, Avith your permission, I have also some 
 news to tell. With the consent of Judge Blackscn 
 gentlemen, I have the honor to announce, an engage- 
 ment of marriage, between Miss Edith Blackson and 
 myself. 
 
 Inez .... ( much overcome.) Marriage? 
 
 Sim Great Goodness! you seem in Luck's way, Van Raer; 
 
 allow me to congratulate you, 
 
 McG And I also, Xan Raer, may you be very happy. 
 
 Van..... Again, thanks, gentlemen ; but will 3'ou not step into 
 my cffice, I have sonu' rme old Mission wine, and you 
 will be able to pledge the health of the bride to be. 
 
 Black ( to Edith, ) Ah, ha ! Why was I not told of this be- 
 fore, Miss lnde|»endene? 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 21 
 
 Ed [ iijiively ] Oh, father, you knew it all the time. 
 
 ( all exeunt into house, R., leaving door ajar. Occasion- 
 ly they can be heard talking in a low hum of voices. 
 Inez totters weakly and leans against house, L. for 
 support. 
 
 Inez ... (half-sobbing, ) My God; what can this mean? What 
 has he been saying this man whose words mean so much 
 « to me? His wife-? No, no, it can not be, and yet -- he 
 himself has said so. Oh God ! what shall I do? ( helpless- 
 ly ) Surely I have heard aright and yet it's 
 
 monstrous ! ( angrily ) She can never be aught to him, 
 he is bound in honor to me, and he must not thus aban- 
 don me.( realizing her position she becomes again heli)- 
 less ) Oh mother in heaven, am I to be so punished? To 
 
 to think that I who who have - loved him so 
 
 must now be condemned to suffer such disgrace and 
 humiliation, (convulsively ) Oh my father, what will 
 become of me?(sinks to her knees sobbing wildly, enter 
 Padre Salcedo, R. U. E. slowly, sees Inez and rushing 
 to her, endeavors to raise her.) 
 
 Padre. . . . Senorita Inez, my child, what is the matter? Are you 
 ill, my daughter? 
 
 Inez ......( rising and clinging to him convulsively ) Padre, padre ! 
 
 [ sobs ] 
 
 P'^dve [ soothingly ) There, there, calm yourself, my daughter. 
 
 The heat has been too great for you. Be tranquil, my 
 Inez, you will be well presently. 
 
 Inez. ..... Oh, it will never l)e well with me again ! 
 
 Pji^^re What is this you are saying, Inez? Come, be calm, 
 
 collect yourself. 
 
 Inez. . . . . .Oh, I shall never know peace again. 
 
 Pn-ere Cliild, do not talk so; it is wicked. I am here, I will 
 
 soothe and comfort you. The Padre Salcedo, your second 
 
22 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 father, will help you. Tell me Inez — no harm can come 
 to you — Avhat has befallen with you? 
 
 Vail ( sj)eaking from inside house as if answering tc> a toast) 
 
 Oh yes, gentlemen, I Avill he successful if only for the 
 sake of Inez Mazalvecla. 
 
 Inez ( starting ) He — ? 
 
 Padre ( questioningly ) Who? 
 
 Inez [ throwing herself into Padre's arms. ] Oh Padre, do not 
 
 question me — I cannot answer you, now — only grant 
 me mercy and forgiveness. 
 
 Padre [angrily] What enigma is this Inez? Explain your- 
 self? Have you been injured? 
 
 Inez Beyond all redemption ! 
 
 ( throws h erself on Padre's breast, sobbing and fainting. 
 Procession of children again enters singing, R. U. E. 
 as Padre releases Inez, and allows her to fall gradually 
 to stage while he stands as if amazed. A pause. Padre in 
 deep thought seems slowly to realize the meaning of 
 her words and raising his right hand points to house 
 wherein is Van Raer. ) 
 
 Padre Beyond all redemption! Mercy and forgiveness! What 
 
 • can this mean? [with vigor] He — ? 
 ( children march around,, singing. ) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 END OF ACT I. 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 23 
 
 ACT IX. 
 
 RflNCHD EL MARID, 
 
 SCENE Garden showing casa of the Rancho El Mario. 
 
 House at back, built in Mission style with tile roof and long 
 double windows, opening on veranda. Door at L. C, of house. 
 Windows opened showing a furnished room. At back of room 
 a book-case. In C, is a table on which is a litter of l>ooks and 
 papers ; a caraffe of water, decanter of wine ; and some glasses ; also 
 jug of tobacco and package of brown papers for making cigarettes- 
 A chair on each side of table, facing front. This room is prac- 
 tical as is also door opening on veranda ; and flight of steps 
 leading into garden. Disposed around garden are plain wooden 
 settees. At opening of act Felipe is discovered trying to drive 
 children out of garden. Children shout and run about, playing 
 From where cue is introduced, music continues to end <A act. 
 
 Fel Here! here, you little devils, leave those flowers alone. 
 
 Caramba! You will not leave arose with which to 
 dress the altar. Be off" with you. 
 
 (enter Don L., from Jiouse; tlie children surround him 
 shouting, ) 
 
 Don How fresh and sweet you look, my children. You arc 
 
 happy, eh? That's right, shout away, it does me good 
 to hear you. There, tliere now, ruji away, or Felipe 
 will be cross again. ( exeunt children 11., as Don de. 
 
24 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 tains the last, a little girl, and kisses lier. ) Ah, a 
 kiss for you, little one? (child runs after the others R.) 
 Well Felipe, everything prospers, eh? ( seats himself .) 
 
 Fel Si Senor, all is as voii could wish. The harvest will be 
 
 abundant and everything is most prosperous. 
 
 Don Buena Felipe, buena. Ah, how beautiful our Califor- 
 nia is, how mild and glorious is our sun and air; all 
 nature seems to be at peace and all is joy, all is happi- 
 ness and contentment. 
 
 Fel Beautiful indeed, Don Luis. 
 
 Don Ah Felipe, to think that we could not forever retain this 
 
 land. To think of the struggles and sacrifices and the 
 sufferings this country has cost us, and now it is ours 
 no longer. 
 
 Fel You are right, Senor, it is terrible. 
 
 Don .... Fate is hard Felipe and it was a cruel blow to take from 
 us our quiet and tranquil existence. 
 
 Fel Si Senor, since the "Gringo" came, the quiet life has 
 
 gone. 
 
 Don Now it is all for gold that man works and lies and steals. 
 
 In the wild scramble for existence, the commandments 
 are forgotten and we are over-run with a swarm of 
 adventurers. 
 
 Fel. .... But the Padre Salcedo says, that we must not think of 
 that; all is for the best and that God only sees fit to try 
 his children. 
 
 Don [rises agitated] The trial is severe Felipe, the trial is 
 
 severe. We would be less than human, diti we not regret 
 
 those happy days when Spain protected us. To think 
 
 of all that is gone- — of our quiet and. peaceful lives now 
 
 80 rudely disturbed — ah I still suffer and the old 
 wound is sore and the st^ng of our conquest, still 
 
 rankles in my heart. 
 
THE 8T0RY ^»F INEZ. 25 
 
 Fel ... ... Si Senor, the Americano hag done us great mischief 
 
 but it can not now be changed. The good Padre, 
 Salcedo says, that God will direct and preserve lis. 
 
 Don (solemnly) Then let us rest in His mercy, Felipe. 
 
 F'el. How goes the case Senor? Will we win or will the 
 
 ^ devilish Americano take from us our beautiful El Mario? 
 
 Don The Don Senor Van Raer tells me that all is secure and 
 
 that in a short time the court will decree that we are 
 right and will give us justice. He is a noble man, the 
 Senor Van Raer, and I have much confidence in him. 
 But liere is our good Padre, Felipe, leave us. 
 (exit Felipe R., as Padre enters L. ) 
 
 Don Buenas dias. Padre. 
 
 Padre.. . . .A good morning and a blessing to you, Don Luis; you 
 are well? 
 
 ])on As well as I over am now. Padre. 
 
 Padre Ah Luis, Luis, wliy will you always treasure in your 
 
 heart tliis resentment against the mandates of God? 
 
 Don Not against God do I complain, but against those who 
 
 have so grievously injured me and mine. 
 
 Padre Why do you remain so stubborn and unrelenting? 
 
 Don You ask me that? 
 
 Padre These people have only done what seems to be their 
 
 duty. Reasons of state compelled them to annex 
 California . 
 
 Don Reasons of state? 
 
 Padre Yes, reastms of state. Without entering into the 
 
 merits of your quarrel with these people, let me 
 ask you, what is the use of further contention? What 
 is done, cannot be undone. Wliy then do you allow 
 yourself to (iwell and ponder on your wrongs, until in 
 
2»J THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 3'our memory, they berome every day, greater tliaii 
 they are. 
 
 ])i)ii Sometime.s I wish that I could forget. 
 
 Padre Baiiisli from your mind, my dear Luis, all those dis- 
 agreeable and futile memories which serve only to 
 make you dissatisfied. Try and adapt yourself to these 
 newer conditions, and to rise superior to all those 
 sentimental injuries which now weigh you down with 
 the weight of their accumulated bitternesses. Dispel 
 your gloomy fancies and rejoice again in the present 
 prospect of a prosperous future beneath the institutions 
 that are so rapidly making of this young Republic, a 
 giant nation, 
 
 Don Well, well, what you say is for the best no doubt, but 
 
 yet I cannot forget that all this beautiful country once 
 was ours, that its every tree and every rock, every 
 flower and every shrub, are j^art and parcel of our work 
 and our development, There is no single entity which 
 the state contains that is not associated with the remem- 
 brance of our sufferings and our achievements. Oh ; 
 Padre, you cannot feel as I do, else you would not 
 talk so calmly of submitting to these newer conditions 
 that are so distasteful and repugnant to me. 
 
 Padre If you would only make the endeavor, you might yet 
 
 be happy, 
 
 Don. .... .Enough of this for the day; California is lost to us 
 
 forever and I must learn to bow in submission to a 
 fate, which I am powerless to avert. Now^ to other 
 things. How w^ent the ceremonies yesterday? 
 
 Padre Well indeed; fifty children were confirmed in our liolj^ 
 
 :ieligion. It was a glorious sight. But the Senorita, is 
 she well? I have not seen her to-day. 
 
 Don She is not well, Upon her return from Monterey yester- 
 day, she complained of a slight indisposition and 
 retired at once. I have not seen her since. 
 
THE 8TORY OF INEZ. 27 
 
 Padre. . . . ( (luestioiiingly ) Indeed? 
 
 Don Do you know if anything occurred in Monterey to 
 
 disturb her? 
 
 i'adre .... No 8enor. I encountered Inez yesterday near our old 
 ( 'Ustoni House as I was returning from the Mass. She 
 was greatly excited, and I fear, very ill. She did not 
 jicquaint me with the nature of her illness and though 
 I am sure that nothing serious could have occurred, 
 ^ still I am anxious regarding her condition. 
 
 Don (musingly) Wliat could have happened? Surely 
 
 nothing of any moment; and yet — [ wonderingly ] — 
 she has not acted thus since she was born. 
 
 Padre Oh, it is some i)assing irritation, she will be herself 
 
 to-day I hope. The ceremonies were somewhat long 
 and the day was a. most trying one. Perliaps the 
 excitement was too great for her. 
 
 Don I believe that I shall send to inquire for her. Tliough 
 
 I am not anxious, still her illness alarms me. 
 
 Padre. . . Has the Senorita Inez never spoken of her future, 
 Don Luis? 
 
 Don How mean you? Of a possible marriage? 
 
 Padre .... Yes. 
 
 Don No, and T have never mentioned the subject to her. 
 
 Padre ... Has sl»e never expressed a liking or regard for any of 
 our eligible young men? 
 
 Don No, never. She has ever been as you have known her 
 
 and never lias she liad a single thouglit that she has 
 not confided it to you. But why <]o you ask? 
 
 Padre ( evasively ) Oli, for no reas(jn. Inez is now of an age 
 
 when the subject of matrimony should be brought to 
 her attention. Perhaps some caballero has already 
 attracted her notice and if so it might cliance 
 that her present distress was occasioned by a misun- 
 derstanding with him. 
 
m THE STORY OF INEZ„ 
 
 # 
 
 Don ( wonderingly ) Padre, are you concealing something 
 
 from me? What is it? 
 
 Padre. .. . [openly] It is nothing. Be assured Don Luis, that I 
 would with-hold nothing from you which in any way 
 concerned your daughter's happiness. I know of notli- 
 ing which threatens it; be tranquil Senor, all is well. 
 
 Don, .... .It worries me greatly Padre, to observe in Inez, a tenden- 
 cy to seek companionship and intercourse with these 
 newly arrived American families. Though I have not 
 forbidden her their society ; still it grieves me much to 
 find her constantly in the company of these people. 
 When next you converse with her I desire you to 
 particularly remind her of my wishes in this matter. 
 She is of a different race and condition from them and 
 her ways are not their ways. They neither think nor 
 act as I would have my daughter conduct herself 
 ( taking Padre by the arm and approaching L. ) You 
 will also my dear Padre — (exeunt both talking. 
 L. 2, E. as Felipe preceeding Blackson, Edith, 
 McGlory and Simcoe enter R. I, E.) 
 
 Fel No Senors, the Senorita Inez is not well to-day, but I 
 
 will inform the Don Senor Mazalveda. that you are 
 here; and he will welcome you himself to El Mario. 
 Pardon, Senors and Senorita, I go to summon him. 
 (exit Felipe, L. 2. E.) 
 
 Ed How ceremonious, yet how delightful, tliese Spanish 
 
 servants are. 
 
 McG Miss Blackson agrees with me, Judge, that these 
 
 Spaniards are a most charming people. 
 
 Sim Miss Blackson, you liave a most excellent echo in the. 
 
 Major. He fairly raves over these old Spanish fam- 
 ilies and their customs and manners, and he dotes on 
 everything connected with early California. 
 
 Black Well, I can heartily sympathize with his enthusiasm 
 
 Simcoe, for this is truly a most interesting country 
 and there is a wealth of tradition and sentiment 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 29 
 
 attached to it that is most fascinating. 
 
 Ed I am so sorry the Senorita is ill, as I was most anxious 
 
 to meet her, John lias spoken so highly of her that I 
 have looked forward to this meeting, with a great deal 
 (^f pleasure. 
 
 Black... And considerable curiosity, I suppose too Edith? 
 
 Sim Well Miss Blackson,you will certainly not be disappoint- 
 ed in the Senorita, as but here is the Senor 
 
 Mazalveda himself. 
 
 ( enter Don and Padre Salcedo. ) L. 2. E. 
 
 Don Welcome to El Mario. Ah, Major, and you Lieutenant, 
 
 the casa is yours as 5'0^^ know. Judge Blackson, 
 command me. Senorita and you gentlemen, the 
 Padre Salcedo. 
 
 Padre . . . . ( bowing ) God's blessing, Senors. 
 
 Ed Oh Senor, tell me [ Padre and McGlory talk aside ] 
 
 may we not see your daughter? We have been inform- 
 ed that she is ill. I am so sorry, I had hoped so much 
 to see her; I trust that her illness will not be serious. 
 
 Don It is nothing Senorita and I am sure that Inez will 
 
 receive you before you go. 
 
 Ed Thank you so much, Senor Don. 
 
 Black Senor, you have a beautiful place here, it is no wonder 
 
 that you are attached to it. 
 
 Don El Mario is my home, Judge, and there is no place on 
 
 earth so sweet to me. Hei^e it was that my daughter 
 was born and here her mother died. It is endeared to 
 me by many recollections and if I were compelled to 
 leave it, T would not care to live. I, could not leave 
 El Mario. 
 
 Black. . . . Well Senor, thet-e will, I hope, be no necessity for j'ou 
 to do so. Van Raer tells me that we have a sure case 
 and he is rarely mistaken. [ enter Van Kaer R. 2. E.] 
 Ah ! you finally got away eh? 
 
30 THE STORY OF INEZ, 
 
 Van Yes,- though those dreadful people would insist upon 
 
 my remaining. Well Edith how do you like El Mario. 
 
 Ed Is'nt it just splendid? Why I think it's just magnificent 
 
 Van Have you met the Senorita as yet? 
 
 Ed Not yet, she is ill, but we are to see her before we leave. 
 
 Don You will excuse us Senorita, and you also gentlemen, 
 
 the Senor Blackson wishes to examine some documents 
 regarding our case. Senor Van Raer, I leave you to 
 entertain our friends for the moment. 
 
 Van..... Certainly Don Luis, I will be delighted. 
 
 Don Thank you Senor. Come Judge, this way if you please 
 
 Padre, will you not join us. 
 
 (Black., Padre and Don exeunt into house L, C. ) 
 
 Van Edith, this is a beautiful old place, so full of romance 
 
 and sentiment. Major, I should imagine that El Mario 
 would have k great interest for you. 
 
 McG It has; in fact I was remarking just now to Simcoe, 
 
 that I have not yet been so impressed by anything so 
 distinctly Californian. Why existence here must be 
 idyllic. 
 
 Sim It is, Major; but still it is a life of which one tires very 
 
 quickly, at least that has been my experiance. One 
 can get too much of even poetry, romance and senti- 
 ment. All that is very beautiful no doubt, but in time 
 it palls and becomes monotonous. 
 
 McG One would get tired of Paradise in the same way, I 
 
 imagine, Simcoe. I am afraid that the great trouble 
 with you is that you have no enthusiasm for this sort 
 of thing. To properly appreciate California, one must 
 feel, not experiance. 
 
 Ed And you are right, Major. I have found it so and to 
 
 me it appears as if I were in fairyland here, everytliing 
 is so beautiful. 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 31 
 
 Van I fear Simcoe, that you judge too hastily and sentence 
 
 too severely. Tliis is undoubtedly a most extraordinary 
 country and is one of which a person never tires. Un- 
 <]er the progressive rule of our own great America, it is 
 destined to become famous and one at which the whole 
 • world will wonder. There is no limit to the possibilities 
 it contains as it is especially blessed of God, and is one 
 my friends, which will be very great. As for its people — ? 
 
 • ( enter Inez L. 2. E. ) 
 
 Int^z ( interrupting ) It is unnecessary to speak of them 
 
 8enor ; they do not deserve the kindness with which 
 you would treat them. 
 
 Van (in surprise ) The Senorita? Senorita, allow me to 
 
 present Miss Blackson ; the gentlemen you know already. 
 
 Ed Senorita, I am delighted to meet yon. I was afraid 
 
 that I Avould not liave that pleasure, as I was told that 
 you were ill. lam glad to know that it was not serious. 
 
 Inez Thank you, Miss Blackson, believe me, I am very 
 
 grateful for your kindness. I suppose that my father 
 lias been frightening you on my account. He always 
 magnifies any trifling indisposition I may have, into 
 positive illness. And you, Major, do you still admire 
 our California as greatly as ever. 
 
 McG More than ever Senorita, since I have become more 
 
 familiar with its history and its many beauties. I seem 
 to hardly think of anything else. 
 
 Sim ... .1 assure you Senorita, that he never talks of anything 
 else. He posilively raves over it. 
 
 Inez Senor Van Baer, will you kindly attend the gentlemen 
 
 into the house ; further hospitality there awaits them- 
 The Senorita Blackson, will excuse you, I am sure. 
 
 Van With pleasure, gentlemen, this way, if you please. 
 
 (exeunt Van, McG, and Sim. into house L. C) 
 
 Inez Won't you be seated Senorita, and have you liad some 
 
 refreshment? Some fruit or wine? 
 
32 THE StORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Ed [Seating herself] No thank you Senodta, I would 
 
 ratlier remain here in your beautiful garden, amidst 
 these lovely flowers and talk with you if you will let me, 
 I seem to know you as an old friend, as both my father 
 and Mr. Van liiier have told me so often of you, 
 
 Inez. . . . . .h)id they? It is quite warm to-day and perhaps it is 
 
 nicer out of doors. 
 
 Ed Oh, yes indeed it is, 
 
 Inez. . . . Have you been in California very long? 
 
 Ed. .... .For some years, in fact, before the first discovery of gold. 
 
 You see ray father brought me here, with my mother^ 
 who died. 
 
 Inez Then, like myself, you have never known a mother's 
 
 love? 
 
 Ed. . . . . . .No, never, and it hurts papa so to speak of her that I 
 
 feel as if I never knew her. But were you very young 
 when your mother was taken from you? 
 
 Inez Merely an infant. 
 
 Ed. How very strange it seems and yet how sad. 
 
 Inez Sad indeed, Senorita; for I could have loved a mother 
 
 dearly. But then I should not complain, I have had 
 my father and dear old Padre Salcedo to comfort me 
 and so I suppose I should be contented. 
 
 Ed Contented? It seems to me that I could be very 
 
 happy in this beautiful country. 
 
 Inez. ... It is very beautiful Senorita and I do love it sincerely 
 You cannot know how much. 
 
 Ed [rising] Oh yes, I do. Mr. Van Raer also loves it and 
 
 we intend to make our home here. He has told you per- 
 haps — — or you know — that — we — are to be 
 married? 
 
THE STOKY OF INEZ, 33 
 
 Inez (slowly)No, he has not told me but yet I know that you 
 
 are to be his wife. Do you love him veiy much? 
 
 Ed........ Do I love John? (impulsively) Oh, with all my 
 
 heart if he did not love me I think I should die. 
 
 Inez Tell me, your American customs are so different from 
 
 ours; you will forgive me asking you, but have 
 you known him long? 
 
 £d Oh, yes for several years, ever since he came to San- 
 Francisco, You see his people knew my people in the 
 Eastern States and when lie arrived here, he came 
 to my father as to an old friend. 
 
 Inez [slowly"] And has he told you that he loved you? 
 
 Ed (naively) How else would I marry him? 
 
 Inez Does a young lady select her own husband in 
 
 America, then? 
 
 Ed [doubtingly ] Well not exactly; she only tries to- 
 
 But is it not the same with your j)eople as with mine? 
 
 Inez Oh no, with us it is the fatlier of the young lady 
 
 who selects the husband, 
 
 Ed, How strange! But suppose you do not love the man 
 
 your father selects? 
 
 Inez Oh. love does not enter into it at all, except by ac- 
 cident. Of course, there are exceptions, where, for 
 instance, the father allows his daughter to choose for 
 herself. But this is very rarely done, as tVie father is 
 presumably the wisest judge of the man's qualifications. 
 We are dutiful children Senorita, and we always (jbey 
 our parents. 
 
 Ed How very unsatisfactory, though I suppose the systenV 
 
 has its advantages also. One need not obey the husband, 
 one's parents have selected. But tell me, Senorita, 
 have you never thought of getting married? 
 
 Inez (sadly) Oh, yes. 
 
 Ed. ... . And have you met any one you could love? 
 
34 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Inez (slowly and painfully ) Yes. 
 
 Ed, ...... And are you going to marry him? 
 
 Iney, No. 
 
 Ed, ( wonderingly) No? And yet you love hitu? 
 
 Inez Yes. 
 
 Ed And does he love you? 
 
 Inez ( passionately ) I think he does. 
 
 Ed .Does he know tliat you love him? 
 
 Inez He does. 
 
 Ed Forgive me, but I do not understand? Has your 
 
 father — does the Don object? 
 
 Inez (passionately) My father knows nothing of it and I 
 
 pray God that he may never know. 
 
 Ed Why, how strange ! 
 
 Inez Oh Senorita,, Miss Blaekson, do not question me further 
 
 I cannot answer you. 
 
 Ed Still—? I 
 
 Inez [interrupting passionately] You will Vie ver under- 
 stand what it is that I suffer and must continue to 
 suffer. Forgive me but do not press me further. I 
 cannot tell you any more and I regret that I have 
 already said so much. I am glad that you are beloved 
 and I feel that you will be very happy. The Senor Van 
 Raer is a good man and some day will be a great one. 
 
 Ed* Oh. Senorita, I am so sorry if I have hurt you and you 
 
 must forgive me, but I wish you would let me do 
 something to help you or console you. Peril aps Jolm 
 might be able — ? 
 
 Inez Miss Blaekson, you must never repeat a word of this 
 
 conversation to him. Least of any man in the world 
 can he assist me and I beg of you, never to speak of 
 this to him. Promise me that you will not? 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 35 
 
 E<1. (<l()ubtiiigly ) Certainly I will promise since you so 
 
 <lesire it, still I can hardly understand. Why John is 
 tlie Isest of men and I am sure that if he knew that 
 you were in distress he would only be too eager to 
 help you, 
 
 In<}z Again I beg of you not to mention this matter to him. 
 
 We are already sufiiciently indebted to the Senor Van 
 
 Raer without troubling him further. And besides you 
 
 haA'e already attached too much importance to my 
 • ... 
 
 coniidences; I am not really as unhappy as perhaps 
 
 you imagine. You do not understand our ways that 
 
 is all. 
 
 Ed (warmly ) I can always understand when a person is 
 
 suft'ering and you seem to be in pain, therefore I beg 
 of you to allow me to try and relieve your distress. 
 
 Inez Senorita, believe me, I am grateful to you for your 
 
 kindness to me but you can do nothing to aid or comfort 
 
 me. The only person who can assist me is ? (enter 
 
 Van Raer hurriedly L. 2. E. Inez changes her tone. ) 
 Tlie Senor Van Raer? ( aside to Edith. ) Remember, 
 not a word. ( to Van.) Have you returned so quickly 
 to take from me, my new friend? 
 
 Van You are friends, then? 
 
 Inez Friends indeed! 
 
 Van The Judge is about to return to Monterey, Senorita. 
 
 (enter Black., McG., and Sim. L. 2. E. ) 
 
 Black Well, Edith , if you have concluded your visit, we must 
 
 take our departure, as we return to San Francisco at 
 cmce. 
 
 Ed. ...... I am quite ready, father. Good-bye Senorita, and tliank 
 
 you so juMch for your kindness; do not forget me. 
 
 In^v Adios, and God bless you ; may you be very happy. I 
 
 will not bid you "Good-bye" gentlemen, as I hope to see 
 you often. You know, my father is always glad to 
 welcome vou. 
 
36 THE STORY OF INEZ, 
 
 MoG Many thanks Senorita, but I fear that we ahall not 
 
 long remain in Monterey, as we are even now awaiting 
 orders to remove the post to San Francisco. 
 
 Inez Indeed? I had not heard of it, it comes as a great 
 
 surprise tome, and we shall be sorry to lose you. At 
 all events, do not forget us while yet you remain in 
 Monterey. Buenas dias, Senors. 
 ( all exeunt except Inez K. 2. E. ) 
 
 Ed [ returning hastily R. 2. E. ] Oh, Senorita, I could not 
 
 leave you without telling you again how much I admire 
 and esteem you. I have never yet met any one whom 
 I could love as I would you, if you would let me. Do 
 not forget me and remember that if I can help you in 
 any why ? 
 
 Inez [interrupting ] Miss Blackson, I am very grateful to 
 
 you and I will never forget y<ni, be assured of that. 
 
 Ed Senorita, just as John returned you were about to tell 
 
 me of someone who could assist you, won't you tell me 
 now? 
 
 Black [without,] Edith? 
 
 Inez I was not about to mention the name of any one. 
 
 Ed Forgive me, but you said, "the only person whc> can 
 
 assist me is ? 
 
 Inez [ solemnly ] God ! 
 
 Ed Oh, I beg your pardon, luit believe me, I am only 
 
 persistent through my sympathy for you. It seems 
 that I am so hap]\v myself that I would like everyone 
 to share my joy. But there, I really must be going, 
 
 Black (without) Edith, we are waiting for you! 
 
 Inez (taking Edith's hand) You have a good heart, Senor- 
 ita and God will bless you. 
 
 Ed Yes father, I am coming. ( to Inez. ) Good-byu Senor- 
 ita — no, Inez, good-bye. 
 (exit R. 2. E. ) 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 87 
 
 Inez ( much agitated. ) And she is tu be his wife. His wife? 
 
 My God! am I to be tluis abandoned? What is to 
 become of me? What am I to do? But yesterday, a 
 child, innocent and pure; to-day, a woman, ruined and 
 Avise in the ways of vice. Oh, what sorrow is mine; 
 what humiliation and disgrace must come to me! Oh, 
 God! thou who art good and merciful, look kindly upon 
 your sufl'ering child, I beseech thee, and guide me out 
 of the darkness and misery which surrounds me, and 
 which, without Your aid and assistance, threatens to 
 destroy me. ( falls, sobbing on settee, Music. ) 
 ( enter Van Raer, R. 2. E. ) 
 
 Van Inez? And in tears? 
 
 Inez .... . . [ collecting herself. ] You? 
 
 Van [ quietly, ] Yes, Inez, 
 
 Inez ( passionately. ) Why have you returned? Why do 
 
 you so soon leave the woman who is to be your wife, to 
 come to jue whom you have treated so shamefully? 
 
 Van [in great surprise, ] You know all, then? 
 
 Inez ......( scornfully. ) Yes. 
 
 Van ( anxiously ) I would have spared you if I c<juld. This 
 
 lias all been so sudden, I did not expect Edith to 
 come here. She has told you? 
 
 Inez No. 
 
 Van You have guessed it then? 
 
 Inez There was no need, 1 heard you proclaim the engage- 
 ment yourself. 
 
 Van Where? 
 
 Inez in Monterey. 
 
 Van In Monterey ! When? 
 
 Inez, Yesterday. I happened to overhear though unwilling- 
 ly, your conversation, with her father. 
 
38 THE STORY OF INEZ, 
 
 Van You were there and I did not see you? 
 
 Inez Yes. 
 
 Van Why did you not disclose yourself? 
 
 Inez What does it matter? The fact remains, that you are 
 
 to be married and that I am not to be your wife. 
 
 Van .... .( startle 1 and confused. ) My wife? You? 
 
 Inez ( proudly.) Why not? 
 
 Van Why, what do you mean? Surely, you are ill! I do 
 
 not understand you. 
 
 Inez [painfully] The time has come when you must 
 
 understand me, 
 
 Van [wildly] Why, Inez, explain yourself? 
 
 Inez ..... .(bursting into tears and with great emotion,) Great 
 
 Heavens! can't you understand me? After all that 
 has occurred, why must you make it so hard for me 
 to tell? 
 
 Van (in great excitement as he realizes the situation.) 
 
 . Good God! Inez, you don't mean ? 
 
 Inez (partially overcome.) Yes. 
 
 Van ( crushed and stricken, sinking into settee. ) 
 
 My God, my God! 
 
 ( Padre and Don enter room in house overlooking 
 garden. They take seats on opposite sides of the table 
 faceing the garden. Don pours out glass of wine and 
 offers it to Padre, who refuses it mutely. Don then 
 places glass b}' his side and sips it occasionally and 
 proceeds to make and light a cigarette. They 
 converse without noticing Van and Inez in the gar- 
 den, though gradually their attention is aroused and 
 the Don becomes greatly excited. Business of Padre 
 endeavoring to restrain him until towards cue, Don 
 finally tears himself free. ) 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 39 
 
 ( After a pause- Inez noticing Van'g apparent col- 
 lapse approaches him and places her hand gently on 
 his shoulder. ) 
 
 Inez. . (sadly) Do you love her so very much then? 
 
 Van (bewildered) Love her? Who? 
 
 Inez. ... (painfully ) Edith Blackson. 
 
 VaiJ Great Heavens, no; a thousand times, no. It is 
 
 you that I love and that I will always love. 
 
 Inez What do you say? 
 
 Van . .(continuing passionately ) From the very tirst moment 
 that I beheld you, I have had no other thought than 
 of you. You have been tome, more than life itself; 
 the one thing that I have held most sacred. 
 
 Inez [ surprised ] I? 
 
 Van ( unheedingly ) From you I have drawn tlie only good 
 
 impulses I have ever had ; and yet you ask me if I love 
 her? No, no, I never have and never will love 
 any one but you in this world. 
 
 Inez [ surprised ] Then w^hy is it that you are engaged to 
 
 tins woman? Why is it that j^ou are going to marry her? 
 
 Van Inez? 
 
 Inez You say you love me, and yet you are bound to her? 
 
 Why is this so? 
 
 Van (despairingly. ) How can 1 answer you; how tell you 
 
 that I must marry another, notwithstanding my love 
 for you? 
 
 Inez ( scornfully ) How, indeed? 
 
 Van (painfully ) Great Heavens! Inez, what can I say to 
 
 you, to prove that I am not as wicked as my course 
 must seem to you, I have never loved you so well as 
 now, when I must leave you. 
 
40 THE STORY OF IKRZ, 
 
 Inez (indigQantly ) What terrible thing is this you tell me? 
 
 Why is it that loving me, you place your heart else- 
 where? Why must you sacrifice me, who has trusted, 
 you so implicitly? 
 
 Van ... (pleadingly ) Inez, you must listen to me; will you? 
 ioez (disdainfully) For what reason? 
 
 Van Inez, I want you to summon all your courage dear,: 
 
 for I am going to tell you — I want to say to you — 
 that you must have known that — that — that, Inez, I 
 can never be your husband. 
 
 Inez .....(apprehensively) What is this you are about to say? 
 Oh, God ! sustain and comfort me for I know that I 
 shall need your aid. Something tells me that all is over 
 and that I am condemned, (in agony) Oh,' that T 
 were dead and away from the misery of this moment! 
 
 Vau Inez, sit here, (points to settee) in this, your own 
 
 beautiful garden ; wherein the flowers are not sweeter 
 than yourself, and listen to me. (tenderly) Do not 
 look at me dear, for I need all my strength to tell 
 you tliat I cannot do that, which my lieart impels me 
 to do. I could not be so base, whilst looking into 
 those beautiful eyes, from whose bright depths I see 
 reflected, the image of your own pure soul. 
 
 Inez (f^in'king into settee almost overcome) Oh, my God ! 
 
 m y heart is breaki ng, . 
 
 Van Forgive me dear, if you can, for giving you so much 
 
 pain, but an inexorable destiny so arranged my life 
 tliat before beholding you, that I should become 
 bound to anotlier. 
 
 Inez Ratber say, "your ambition." 
 
 Van You know my family history fori myself have related 
 
 it to you. You are aware that all my efforts have 
 been governed by the one absorbing object to attain 
 position and prominence. Not so much for myself have 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 41 
 
 I labored, but that through me my name and the 
 ancient power and influence of my family might be 
 redeemed. You know how I have toiled and striven to 
 achieve a place that, would be as exalted and honorable 
 as any in the land. 
 
 Inez ....,( rising wildly ) Do not speak to me of honor ; whilst 
 contemplating my disgrace. Do not dare to think of 
 • restoring your own name to a position of dignity and 
 
 respect, whilst meditating the ruin and destruction of 
 mine! For God's sake if you are a man, and harbor 
 for one instant, an intention, so monstrous, so horrible 
 and cruel, as my abandonment; do not attempt to 
 justify yourself to me. 
 
 Van . . - . Listen to me I implore you. ( Inez sinks to settee) 
 I am not trying to justify myself to you ; I am not 
 even defending myself — I am simply trying to prove 
 to you that — ( despairingly ) — that — Inez, don't look 
 at me like that. ( humbly.) Slowly withering as I am 
 beneath the weight of your, I know not how to tell 
 you of the thing which is killing me. Severe as 
 your condemnation will be, harsh as your judgment 
 must be, I must say on, that at least you will know 
 that you will not suffer alone. Great as will be your 
 sorrow and regret, it can never equal the extent of 
 the misery that I endure. 
 
 Inez Of what use will it be to me to know that j^ou will 
 
 also suffer? Of what possible use are all these pro- 
 testations and avowals which lead to nothing and 
 which if they do mean anything, only serves to 
 increase the bitterness of my despair. Come, let us 
 end this discussion that is so painful to you. Since 
 you are incapable of a single thought beyond your 
 own distress, do not prolong this further. 
 
 Van ( pleadingly. ) At least, hear me ; it may perhaps be 
 
 for the last time. 
 
42 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Inez What is it? 
 
 Vmii When first I came to Monterey, I had no other thought 
 
 but of niy ambition. Previously, I had taken an oath 
 by the bedside of my dying father, to restore the fortunes 
 of our house. In order to do this, I had strained 
 every nerve, worked and toiled until I was nearly 
 worn out bodily, with tlie tremendous exertions I 
 found necessary. Having met with some success, I 
 next aspired to greater heights, 
 
 Inez Of what use is all this? 
 
 Van . . .(not heeding her,) Feeling assured that the time had 
 come when, by a judicious marriage, I could further 
 progress; I became engaged to Miss Edith Blackson : 
 daughter of the most prominent and highly respected 
 jurist in California. An alliance such as this offered 
 to me advantages which could not be secured in any 
 other way, 
 
 Inez ( warmly) But you say you do not love her? 
 
 Van I know this must seem strange to you, but I am not 
 
 attempting any justification ; so I will not reply to 
 that. Coming here with no other thought but of my 
 work, with every prospect of a successful future ; with 
 a past that contained not a single blemish and 
 with a conscience as free from guilt; I set myself 
 to my appointed task with my whole heart. 
 
 Inez , You forget that you contemplated marriage with one 
 
 whom you did not love? 
 
 Van I did not love her that is true ; but I had every reason 
 
 to suppose that she would be as happy without that. 
 I never told her that I loved her, but that I would 
 give her the whole heart of a man who had never loved 
 anyone else, and whose only affection had been his 
 ambition. I never deceived her in any way, and she, 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ, 43 
 
 was content, Well after my arrival here I beheld you 
 and for the first time in my life, I knew what it was 
 t(3 love. 
 
 Inez ( intensely ) And I also. 
 
 yan Then it was that I learned that tliere was something 
 
 else in the world to live for beside my ambition. 
 
 I saw you ! We seemed to be attracted to each other 
 * at once. Then it was that I enjoyed the first rapturous 
 
 sensation of an ideal love. God! How 1 loved you and 
 
 how I suffered. 
 
 Inez (as before. ) And I too. 
 
 Van (passionately) To be near you, to liear you speak, to 
 
 look into your eyes; ah, it was elysium! And then 
 when first I knew that you loved me in return, it was 
 heaven ! What a paradise was this, and what a god- 
 dess was my love! Insensibly, unconsciously, I allow- 
 ed myself to be borne along in that deliglitful existence 
 careless of the consequences, only intent upon the 
 present enjoyment. Insensate fool! that I was to so 
 delude myself. Good Heavens! Inez, you will never 
 know how much I love you. You can never know 
 what you are to me. And now, knowing all this 
 feeling as I do, that you are tlie one woman whom 
 I will ever love, I must leave you. ( wildly and 
 passionately.) Merciful God! Inez. I cannot do it; 
 ( clasps her in his arms and eml»races her furiously.) 
 I love you! I love you! I love you! 
 
 Inez Oh, my heart is breaking. 
 
 ( a pause. Finally Van rijlease.s lier and draws back 
 with great res<dution. ) 
 
 Van But no, it can never be. 1 am pledged to another and 
 
 I must not break my word. Inez, hale me if you 
 will; curse me if you must; I shall deserve it all- 
 I am a s<'/Oundrel and a vilhiiu ; ior I eari never be 
 auglit to you. 
 
tHE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 (Don becomes greatly excited and Padre endeavors to 
 restrain him. ) 
 
 Inez (in great wrath and excitement. ) And is this to be 
 
 your final word? Am I then to expect nothing at your 
 hands, but degradation and disgrace? Oh, God ! must 
 I then suffer alone? John Van Raer, your sin will 
 cry aloud to Heaven for vengeance; and God will 
 punish you ! He cannot permit 3'ou to leave me in 
 misery and distress, without visiting upon you the 
 wrath of His awful judgement, (pitifully.) Oh, is 
 there no mercy in your heart for me? Can you not 
 see that you are killing me ; slowly, cruelly, horribly? 
 I, who was once so pure and innocent; a thing apart 
 from everything that was not good and holy ; and now 
 to be so base and wicked that even you must pity me 
 (with dignity and feeling) Remember such mercy as 
 
 you have shown me, you will yourself recieve. As 
 you have treated me, so you, will yourself be jndged. 
 False to me, you will be unworthy and untrue to 
 
 her, Leave me now and forever, I never want to 
 see your face again. You have injured me beyond all 
 reparation, and I can no longer endure your hatefu^ 
 Ijresence. Go! 
 
 ( Don who has gradually emerged from house through 
 opened windows now escapes from Padre and rushs at 
 Van Raer as if to strike him. ) 
 
 Don Not until I have punished you for this terrible crime ! 
 
 ( Padre grasps his arm and restrains him ) 
 
 Padre. . . . Not you Senor, but God must punish him! 
 
 Inez. .... .(sinking, sobbing to her knees ) My father? 
 
 Don ( turning to Inez very greatly excited but struggling to 
 
 control himself, ) Yes, your father, my daughter, and 
 one who will always be a father to you, my child. 
 I have heard the whole of this dreadful story and I am 
 appalled at the wickedness of this man. ( pleadingly) 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 45 
 
 Oh, sir, how could you so defile my innocent child? 
 (fiercely) It is monstrous! it is iniquitous! it is 
 damnable. 
 
 Padre. . . . (interrupting) Restrain yourself Senor, I beg of you. 
 
 Don (to Padre. ) Have no fear, I will be calm. ( to Van 
 
 Raer. ) As for you Senor, you have entered this house 
 • only to bring disgrace and shame to its brightest, ray 
 
 its only ornament. You have destroyed and degraded 
 a pure aud innocent soul, whose only fault has been 
 that she loved you. For that love she is punished. 
 Never from the time her sainted mother left her to my 
 keeping, has she known an unhappy or bitter moment 
 and for the first in her life, I, her father, behold her in 
 distress, and cannot aid her. Look Senor, look upon 
 your work; (points to Inez who is still on her knees) 
 see the havoc that you have wrought, and then beware 
 for as there is a just God above us, you will have to 
 answer for your cowardly, dastardly crime! (with 
 great vigor. ) Dog of a "Gringo", may you ever be 
 accursed ; may you never know a moment's peace or 
 happiness in this world ; and when you reach your 
 end, may the spectacle of the misery that you have 
 here produced, be present to annihilate and crush 
 you! ( a pause. Don turns to Inez ia a calmer tone) 
 Tears! my daughter, and for what? Why should you 
 weep? Look up! See, your father loves you and 
 would not have you sutler. You have done no wrong. 
 He is not worth the cost of a single tear from your 
 pure heart. To me you are still my Inez, my beloved 
 child, and what this man has done, cannot estrange 
 us. Come, be brave; for you are still my daughter, to 
 be loved and honored and protected. ( Don raises 
 Inez and clasping her to his breast, faces Van Raer 
 proudly. ) See John Van Raer, she will yet be 
 happy , for secure in her father's heart, she will be 
 content. As for you who have so wronged me, go in 
 
46 THE STORY OF INEZ, 
 
 peace and never return to El Mario. Leave tlii.s house 
 which you have dishonored but not destroyed ! 
 
 (As Van, who has remained quiet witli bowed head, 
 turns and slowly .walks R., Don presses Inez to liis 
 heart whilst Padre stands as in prayer. ) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 END OF ACT II. 
 
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THE STOKY OF INEZ, 47 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 RflNCHD EL MARin. 
 
 APJ IXrERVAT^ OP TWENTY YEARS. 
 
 SCENE .. ..Same as Act II., though some slight diffierences 
 are noted in the arrangement of the scene, such as a different 
 disposition of the chairs, settees, etc. Padre discovered with 
 FeHpe as curtain rises. 
 
 Padre (seated. ) How hright and cheerful is the day Felipe , 
 
 all nature seems to rejoice with us. 
 
 Fel Si Padre, it seems so. El Mario has not enjoyed such 
 
 happiness for a great many years. How delighted the 
 Senora will be to see Andreo again after his long 
 absence in Mexico. 
 
 Padre Proud indeed Felipe, for her dearest wish has been 
 
 realize<l. From the day of his birth, the Senora has 
 prayeJ constantly that Andreo might devote himself 
 to religion, 
 
 Fel Still the Senora has suffered terribly during his long 
 
 novitiate at the College of San Fernando. 
 
 Padre What more natural, she is his mother and the separ- 
 ation has been most trying. Still deeply as the 
 Senora Mazalveda has suffered, it was necessary; and 
 she will be amply rewarded by seeing hini so happily 
 devoted to (Jod. 
 
48 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Fel Could it have been right Padre, to have allowed that 
 
 man to go so long unpunished. 
 
 Padre . . . . ( solemnly ) He has been punished, and that terribly 
 Notwithstanding all his successes he is not happy. 
 
 Fel (joyously) God is still good then, since he has not 
 
 granted this guilty man immunity. 
 
 Padre. . . . Can you doubt it Felipe? Oh no; God has punished 
 this man in a manner th^t rnust convince us of his 
 justice. After having sacrificed everything, not even 
 excepting his honor, to gain his wicked ends, he is 
 now condemned to disappointment. The name that he 
 has sinned so deeply to render great and honorable, 
 is now destined to perish miserably with himself. 
 
 Fel He is without children then? 
 
 Padre .... He is. God in His inscrutable wisdom has known where 
 to strike, and the blow has been dreadful. Some 
 two years after the terrible misfortune that occurred 
 here, Mrs. Van Raer, she who had been Miss Blackson, 
 you remember, died,; leaving him childless and alone. 
 Since then he has never remarried but has devoted 
 himself to his profession, ,in which he has attained the 
 greatest distinction, 
 
 Fel And he has prospered ! ■ , 
 
 Padre. . . . Very greatly. In the vain hope of securing relief from 
 his gloomy recollections, he has entered into the 
 most arduous undertakings, in all of which he has betn 
 successful. Remorse for his dastardly conduct however 
 has continued to follow and embitter his career. 
 
 Fel And does he know of the existence of Andreo, his son? 
 
 Padre. . . . He does, but is in ignorance of the fact that Andreo 
 bears his mother's name. Hence he has been unable 
 to follow his child's career, and consequently he does 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 49 
 
 not know how be is regarded by that son whom he 
 would give his life to acknowledge, I have continued 
 to follow his fortunes most carefully Felipe, for though 
 be once iujured us, yet I am assured that he is repent- 
 ant, and that some day he will plead for a mercy which 
 J CM n not deny him. 
 
 Fel ^^ in surprise ) You forgive him? 
 
 Padre. . . . ( nobly ) And why not? Is it not my duty? Does not 
 every law of Crod and our religion command it? But 
 aside from that I cannot believe that he was wholl y 
 wicked. In spite of appearances I am sure that he 
 loved Inez, and that he has never ceased to suffer 
 on her account, (rising) From my heart I freely 
 forgive and pity him. Weighed down by the enormity 
 of his offense, harassed by the bitter memories of his 
 wickedness and stricken in his most sacred desires, he 
 lives alone, in his somber meditations, a disappointed 
 and broken man. 
 
 Fel Well, well Padre, what you say is for the best, and 
 
 may be right and there is no doubt that he has suflfered 
 severely. But yet I can never forgive him for his treat- 
 ment of her; loyalty forbids me to pardon him. 
 
 Padre. . . . Still we cannot but commiserate this man who deserves 
 so little pity at our hands. The Senora is more fortunate 
 for she has a son on whom to lean, and who will 
 comfort and console her. But, there, there, we must 
 not chatter thus the whole da}. The young Andreo 
 • will soon be here and we have much to do. Ah Felipe, 
 
 it will be a proud day for me, when the Padre 
 Mazalveda celebrates his first Mass at San Carlos, 
 (walking towards R. 2. E. both exeunt. Enter 
 Inez from house L. C. ) 
 
 Inez Oh, what joy is mine, what pleasure I shall have to-day 
 
 After such an absence I shall see again my Andreo, 
 my boy. How long the time has seemed since he has 
 
50 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 been away! How my heart has yearned for him, and 
 now at hist he is coming, my only hope my only con- 
 solation, (musingly ) Oh those dreadful, weary years 
 that have passed so slowly since that awful time ! 
 My God, how I have suffered? To be at peace and rest 
 and forever away from the cruel, pitiless world 
 that judges so harshly and punishes so severely. But 
 yet I could not die and leave my father who has been 
 so good, so kind to me. Sustained by his tender love 
 I have lived to atone b}" my tears for my sin. (longingly) 
 Can there ever be happiness or contentment in this 
 world for me? Will the memory of my disgrace never 
 leave me? (pathetically) Ah yes, I will live again in 
 the life of my son, and surely peace will come to me 
 through him. How I long to see him ! To press him 
 again to this broken heart that has been so desolate 
 without his love. Oh Andreo, my boy, you who will 
 forever be mine alone, I wait for you. 
 
 Don .... .(speaking inside of house ) Come Padre, let us go 
 into the garden ; it is pleasanter there. 
 
 Inez (drawing aside) My father! ( remains concealed at 
 
 back among the flowers until cue.) 
 
 ( enter Don and Padre from house, L. C. ) 
 
 Don So to-day Padre, our boy returns, happy in his new 
 
 duties and proud of his first direction. Well, well, how 
 the time presses onward, leaving us to marvel at its 
 progress. How little we reckon wliat the future has 
 in store, 
 
 Padre. . . . God's ways are devious Don Luis, but are always 
 well considered. 
 
 Don ( seating himself ) How mild and beautiful is the 
 
 day, how sweet and refreshing is the air, andhow pleas- 
 ant are the flowers! These are the things which make 
 El Mario so dear to me Padre, for they speak to me 
 in a language to which my heart responds. Of all 
 that is left to me, here only am I content. 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 51 
 
 Padre (meaningly) El Mario is indeed beautiful, and I 
 
 have the greatest sympathy with your affection for it. 
 Life is so pleasant here, it seems as if we must be 
 contented. 
 
 Don (sadly) And yet it appears that we were too happy, 
 
 Padre. Here, isolated and alone as we were ; cut-off 
 from the rest of the world, with which we did not 
 
 « choose to mingle, we were nevertheless, invaded, 
 
 (fiercely ) The garden of Eden was not further remov- 
 ed from vice than were we, and yet a serpent entered. 
 
 Padre ( quickly ) What, Luis, do you still suffer? 
 
 Don (painfully) Unceasingly! 
 
 Padre (sympathetically) I had hoped that after so many 
 
 years, you had endeavored to forget your misfortune. 
 If you would only forgive those who have injured you, 
 surely, you would then forget your misery. 
 
 Don (bitterly ) Forgive? You ask me to forgive those who 
 
 have blighted and embittered my life? 
 
 Padre Assuredly. It is your duty. 
 
 Don. (rising) My duty! My duty! (wildly) And what 
 
 of my outraged and abandoned child, who for over 
 twenty years has borne alone, the punishment for a 
 crime of which, she was the innocent victim? What 
 of my honor, the honor of my race, that was intrusted 
 to me by generations of the best and truest blood in 
 Castile? 
 
 Padr-e Still it is your duty. 
 
 Don ...... What of my name, that having endured untarnished for 
 
 centuries, must perish ignobly with me, who would 
 have died to render it stainless. There is no sacrifice 
 too great, no suffering too severe, that I would not 
 gladly welcome, to retain and perpetuate my name, as 
 spotless and unsullied as I received it. And yet you 
 
52 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 tell me it is my duty to forgive the only man who has 
 ever cast a stigma upon the house of Mazalveda. No, 
 no, Padre, what you ask is impossible. 
 
 Padre It is not impossible, and I earnestly pray that some 
 
 day you will relent. 
 
 Don (disdainfully ) Relent? How mean and paltry such a 
 
 sentiment is when compared to the intensity of my 
 humiliation? Padre, you certainly do not understand 
 my sufferings, since you speak to me of relenting. It 
 is not wiihin my power to forgive him, 
 
 Padre (warmly) But if you would only endeavor to master 
 
 and control those ? 
 
 Don ..--( interrupting fiercely ) Padre, I have no control over 
 
 those feelings of resentment and injury that surge 
 
 against my heart. Cannot you, who know me so well 
 
 estimate the extent to which I have been outraged? 
 
 Can't you grasp from amidst the wreck of my life and 
 
 hopes, the one bitter truth that pardon is beyond my 
 
 strength? ( gradually becoming aroused to a frenzy. ) 
 
 How can I condone an offense that has included in its 
 
 victims — my race, my honor and my life? How am 
 
 I to redeem and brighten the blasted, wasted, life of my 
 
 child? ( growing more fu7ious and excited.) No, no. 
 
 Padre, that man has injured me so deeply that I can 
 
 never forgive him. He has sinned so grievously that 
 
 even Heaven will not show him mercy; and to my 
 
 latest breath, I will ever curse and ! 
 
 ( Inez approachs quickly and throws herself on 
 her knees before the Don, mutely imploring him to 
 desist. Don stops suddenly then continues in a tone 
 of anguish . ) 
 
 Don Inez, my child! 
 
 Inez Father, father, spare me the memory of my shame! 
 
 Don ( endtavoring to raise her.) Oh, my Inez, can you 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ, 53 
 
 ever forgive nie? To have remained silent so long and 
 now to have allowed my passion to betray itself. Par- 
 don me Inez, for having distressed you so terribly. ( to 
 Padre. ) Console her Padre, for the suffering my 
 violence has caused. 
 
 Inez (wildly) Rather tell him Padre, for I cannot, that he 
 
 must not condemn and censure him who is the father 
 • of Andreo. Oh Padre, to you I have always had recourse 
 
 when in distress, aid me now I entreat yon. Tell him 
 that he must not curse the father of my child. 
 
 Padre (pleadingly) Look Don Luis, look, upon the anguish 
 
 which your child endures. See how the wound, scarce 
 healed by time, bleeds again at the memories you have 
 evoked. See in what grief and affliction, your child 
 supplicates and do not hesitate. Do not deny her the 
 comfort which she demands. Be generous Senor, it 
 is your duty, and your conscience and love demands it. 
 
 Don ( after a struggle, raises Inez to his breast tenderly. ) 
 
 Inez, my child, still my daughter, I cannot see you 
 suffer. For yonr sake querida, I will forgive this 
 guilty man and shall hold no animosity against him. 
 You have conquered, my daughter, and never more 
 will I imprecate or denounce him. Henceforth he will 
 be as nothing to me and you and I and Andreo will 
 live in peace and in contentment. No longer will the 
 shadow of his misdeeds come between to darken or 
 diminish our happiness. 
 
 Inez .....( much affected) Oh, my father, how noble and 
 good you have been to me. 
 
 Padre (solemnly) God b e praised Senor; you have acted 
 
 wisely. 
 
 Don (lightly ) But prepare yourself my child, our good 
 
 Felipe approachs and if I mistake not, has great news 
 
 for you. 
 
 ( enter Felipe, R. 1. E.) 
 
54 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Fel. .... Don Luis and you Senora, the young Senor, Padre 
 Mazalveda, is coming, 
 (retires up stage until cue. ) 
 
 Inez ..-- (joyously) At last, at last. Oh Andreo, my son, 
 where are you? 
 ( enter Andreo R. 1. E. ) 
 
 And Here mother. ( embraces Inez who kisses him on the 
 
 forehead only. ) 
 
 Inez Oh Andreo, my boy. 
 
 And (soothingly) Be tranquil mother dear, I will never 
 
 leave you again. El Mario is to be my home for I am 
 to assist our good Padre Salcedo at San Carlos. The 
 Director especially solicited the appointment for me. 
 
 Inez Oh, I am so glad. I have so longed to see you Andreo. 
 
 And There, there, mother dear, all that is passed now 
 
 since I am returned. Let us forget the past and think 
 
 , only of the future. Ah, Don Luis, you have not 
 
 changed. 
 
 Don. .... .No Andreo, you see I am still young. 
 
 And And you Padre, my second father, you too are well? 
 
 Padre Thanks be to God, my son. 
 
 Inez. .... .But you Andreo, have changed so much? 
 
 And Have I mother? 
 
 Don And have you no word for Felipe? 
 
 ( Felipe comes forward. ) 
 
 And Oh, Felipe was the first to meet me. We have already 
 
 greeted each other, 
 
 Fel. ......That reminds me, Don Luis, all our people have 
 
 assembled in honor of Andreo's return. What am I 
 to tell them? 
 
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THE STORY OF INEZ, 55 
 
 Don Tell them to rejoice and make merry Felipe. To-day 
 
 everyone must be happy; proclaim it a holiday and 
 spare not the food and wine that all may be suitably 
 entertained. ( exit Felipe E. I. E. ) I will go myself 
 to thank them. Come Padre, let us go too. Let us 
 leave these children to themselves. 
 ( exeunt Don and Padre, R. 1. E. ) 
 
 And Ah, the dear old Don, how I love and revere him ! 
 
 Inez And it is well that you do my son, for he is a noble 
 
 man. 
 
 And And now mother dear, tell me, all has been well with 
 
 you? 
 
 Inez Of course I liave missed you greatly and my heart has 
 
 often ached to see you, but the Padre always comforted 
 me, and it was for the best, so I should not complain. 
 But now all that is passed and El Mario will be 
 dearer to me than ever, now that you are here. But 
 tell me — since you have been ordained — I suppose, I 
 must call you "P'ather", and not "Andreo". 
 ( Andreo puts arm around her waist as they are walk- 
 ing towards L. ) 
 
 And Never madre mio. Call me what your heart dictates, 
 
 for I will always be your boy, your Andreo. 
 
 (both exeunt, L. 2. E. Music which continues softly 
 
 to end of act. Enter Van Raer, R. 2. E. ) 
 
 Van (after looking around inquringly. ) How natural it 
 
 all seems, and liow beautiful! The same calm, serene 
 and peaceful atmosphere still pervades the jilace as 
 when last I saw it. The house, the garden, everything 
 is the same, it is only I, who have changed. Oh, to 
 think of all that might have been. If I could but 
 recall the past and be again my old self, free from 
 this terrible agony winch I endure. Ah, these are 
 but vain regrets which bring me nothing but misery 
 and distress. Conld I but banish from my mind the 
 
56 THE STOKY OF INEZ. 
 
 memory of lier suffering, I would then be content 
 ( looking around longingly. ) El Mario! How sweet 
 
 the name sounds and Inez! How the mention of 
 
 her beloved name thrills through every fibre of my 
 being and soothes and comforts me. Inez! 
 (enter Padre R. 2. E.) 
 
 Padre (in surprise. ) Senor Van Raer? 
 
 Van .... ((luietly) Yes Padre, it is I. 
 
 Padre. . . .( severely ) And what seek you here? 
 
 Van (warmly) My honor, that, which I discarded a 
 
 century ago. 
 
 Padre (kindly) Has it seemed so long to you? It is only 
 
 twenty years. 
 
 Van ( vehemently ) To me Padre, it has been an eternity 
 
 during which I have never known a moments peace. 
 
 Padre What do you hope for here? 
 
 Van ( wearily ) Pardon Padre, pardon, for my sin. 
 
 Padre. . . .(severely) Your own conscience tells you that you 
 have that. You must know that we have forgiven you. 
 That is not, cannot be your motive for intruding here. 
 What further object have you? 
 
 Van ( earnestly ) To see her. 
 
 Padre ( surprised) Inez? 
 
 Van (desperately ) Yes, Inez! ( pleadingly ) Ah, do not 
 
 deny me. I have come so far and have hoped for so 
 much from her. 
 
 Padre Why do you wish to force j'ourself upon her? Why 
 
 seek to reopen the old wound as your presence here is 
 certain to do? Wliy would you be so cruel to her? 
 
 Van I cruel t(t her? No, no, it cannot be, I do not wish 
 
 to cause her pain ; I could not further mean to injure 
 her. I only wish to i)Our out at her feet, the misery 
 and remorse with which mv heart is burdened. Only 
 
THE 8T0RY OF INEZ. hi 
 
 to lell her that this silence is killing me; only to 
 assure her, that 1 have not profited hy my perfidy. 
 
 Padre (severely ) And what can this avail you? To her it 
 
 can only hring pain and suffering; whilst to yon, it can 
 only mean additional humiliation. 
 
 Van Padre, I do not wi^h to distress her an<l ] care nollii.ig 
 
 Tor my own sutferings; hut I mnst tell her o!" my ntter 
 liopeless misery, that she may pity me. Oh Padre, yon 
 who are good and wise; look into my heart, and if you 
 see therein aught that is of evil, hanish me from this 
 place; but if you see there the angris^h. the intolerable 
 longing and distress which jigitates it. grant me then in 
 mercy, the request which I solicit. 
 
 Padre (solemnly) My son, it is not for me to judge men's 
 
 moliyes, it is God, who must do that. If you come 
 licre with nanglit but good in'cntions, then all is well ; 
 bat if your molives be not honest, withdraw T beg of 
 you before it is too late. 
 
 Van Can you doubt my sincerity? Can you possibly behold 
 
 my sutferings and then believe me unworthy of your 
 contidence? Does n(H the spectacle of my great des- 
 pair plead to you more eloquently than any words of 
 mine? 
 
 Padre. ... It is well my son, and now listen to me. I canr.ot 
 undertake to aid you in your design but I will not 
 prevent you nuiking the attempt. As for yourself, you 
 have earned my ])ity and my pardon. Adios Senor, 
 may God forgive you as 1 do. 
 ( e.xit Padre into house L. C. ) 
 
 Van ( musingly ) How good and noble he is? Oh that I 
 
 were worthy to stand beside such a man! But who 
 
 (•(^mes here? 
 
 ((>nter Inez l>ackwards L. 2. E., calling. ) 
 
 Inez .... Come to me soon Andreo, I will wait for you here. 
 ( faces Van Raer. ) 
 
58 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Van C together in 1 Ii^ez? 
 
 Inez ( surprise. > j^j^^, 
 
 ( a pause. ) 
 
 Inez (passionately ) My God! What has brouglit you here 
 
 to renew my sufferings, when I was about to forget 
 them? 
 
 Van ( softly ) Forgive me Inez, if I distress you, but I felt 
 
 that I raust see you ygain. 
 
 Inez (greatly agitated) For what purpose? After what 
 
 has occurred between us, what possible motive induced 
 you to come here again? 
 
 Van ... - (slowly and softly ) Inez, jiity me. 
 
 Inez ( bitterly ) Pity you — and for what? For having in- 
 flicted on me a mortal injury? 
 
 Van No Inez, but for loving you yet. 
 
 Inez Have you returned only to insult me? 
 
 ( Padre and Don enter room in house as in preceding 
 act and taking seats on opposite sides of the table re- 
 peat business as before. ) 
 
 Van (warmly) God forbid! I have returned because I 
 
 could not longer endure my misery. I have come to 
 tell you — to beg of you to forgive me. Nothing that 
 you could say would serve in any way to increase my 
 bitter and deserved abasement. I can no longer bear 
 this burden of sorrow and remorse and so I turn to you 
 as to an angel, to pity and relieve me. 
 
 Inez (vigorously) In all this you speak as always of your 
 
 own sufferings and nothing of mine. How have I 
 lived for all these years beneath the anguish of my own 
 folly and God's displeasure? What of my misery and 
 degradation? What of the terrible agony which I liave 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 59 
 
 endured since lirst I drank of the bitter cup that has so 
 poisoned and destroyed my life? What of the idle, 
 useless tears that I have shed, which have never reliev- 
 ed me and which in falling have seemed to sear and 
 burn into my flesh like rivers of scorching fire, that 
 were to brand me with my dishonor? You say you 
 have suffered, then I tell you that I too have suffered 
 biit with a fiercer torture than any you could know. 
 Oh, my life has been a torment to me and it is you 
 who have made it so. 
 
 Van ( softly ) At least if you have suffered Inez, your an- 
 guish was moderated and assuaged by the kindness 
 and consideration of those who loved you. ( plaintive- 
 ly ) You were not compelled as I was, to live a double 
 life; to conceal your anguish as I have had to conceal 
 mine. Your grief and despair had no further sting of 
 hypocrisy and deceit to increase it. Oh Inez, if you 
 knew what my life has beea, you would pity and for- 
 give me. 
 
 Inez Understand me well. My religion and my own better 
 
 self inexorably commands me to forgive you and I do, 
 most sincerely. 
 
 Van I thank you for that at least. 
 
 Inez But when you suggest that I should pity you, when you 
 
 make pretense of still loving me, when you endeavor 
 by reciting the intensity of your own distress, to obtain 
 my sympathy and consideration for you, then you 
 fail. 
 
 Van Can you believe that I am not sincere? 
 
 Inez When I think of my wasted and ruined life, of my 
 
 adored father whose torment and disgrace I have been ; 
 when I think of my beloved son, who through me is 
 dishonored — then I almost fear for my reason, for 
 then — I wonder that you still live ! 
 
60 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Van (earnestly) And what of your son? What have yon 
 
 told him? 
 
 Inez ( vigorously ) The trutli ! 
 
 Van ( wildly ) And he — ? 
 
 Inez (triumphantly) — has absolved me! 
 
 ( a pause. ) 
 
 Van And has he never asked for liis fatlier? Does he know 
 
 who I am? 
 
 Inez (calmly) I have told him everything, save only your 
 
 name. That I have withheld from liim, because I 
 feared that his great love for me would prompt him 
 to avenge his mother's honor. 
 
 Van (passionately ) Oh Inez, now it is that I comprehend 
 
 what a fatal error mine has been. Great God ! How 
 near I was to happiness and yet turned from it! By 
 what inexplicable misfortune was I so actuated. 
 
 Iiiez Ask your conscience; that will tell you. 
 
 Van My God, Inez, listen to the last desparing appeal of 
 
 a hopeless man and if you have any mercy in your 
 heart, pity me. 
 
 Inez What you ask is impossible. 
 
 Van See Inez, it is I whojjlead to you as twenty years ;ago 
 
 you supplicated me, only for the sake of all you hold 
 dear, do not answer me as I once answered you. 
 
 Inez When I shall forget your answer, I will forgive your 
 
 cruelty. 
 
 Van (pleadingly) Oh Inez, do not drive me back to that 
 
 cruel, mocking place where men look up to me as to 
 something that is good and honorable. They do not 
 know that he whom they chastize with their i)raise is 
 not worthy of even their contempt. Oh Inez, this 
 cannot long continue. Some day I must cry out to be 
 shunned and avoided, as the leper of old cried out 
 "unclean, unclean!" I cannot live this dual life of 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 61 
 
 public integrity and private dislionesty. Oh Inez, 
 save me from myself, for I am sinking beneath the 
 weight of my accumulated anguish and remorse. 
 ( as Van stands trembling and overcome, Don and 
 Padre enter from house, as in preceding act. ) 
 
 Padre See Don Luis, here is a criminal who supplicates for 
 
 release; a sinner who beseeches mercy from those he 
 has wronged. Oh, Thou great and inscrutable Provi- 
 * 4e.nce, how wonderful is Thy intelligence! ( to Don ) 
 
 Speak to him Senor, and assure him of his pardon. 
 
 ^*>i^ (slowly and with feeling. ) John Van Eaer, years ago 
 
 you entered this abode only to bring sorrow and dis- 
 grace to it. Why have you returned? Your presence 
 here evokes only the most painful memories and oc- 
 casions the greatest distress to one whom it is my 
 duty to shield and protect. From what I have heard, I 
 know that your conscience has awakened, since you 
 are suffering. In the name of mercy I forbear to add 
 to yoar misery an I therefore I shall not further inflict 
 yoii. For yo:i there can never be a place here; you 
 are not wanted. Into this, house you must never again 
 intrude. I forgive you but I forbid you to ever return 
 to El Mario. I pray God, to allow me to recall the 
 im]3f(^cation I cast upon you when last I saw you; for 
 now, I no longer wish liarm or evil to befall you. 
 May you find elsewhere, the rest and peace you 
 seek. Adios, Senor Van Raer. 
 
 ( D(3n bows to Van Raer and turns to Padre, while 
 Inez stands quietly. As Van Raer turns to exit R- 
 Andreo enters L. 2. E. and seeing Van Raer, bows to 
 him as to a stranger, and continues on to Inez, 
 who stands L. C. whilst VanRaer slowly walks R. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 END OF ACT III. 
 
62 THE 8T0RY OF INEZ. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SilCRISTY, 
 SilN CARLnS BDRRaMED 
 
 MONTEREY. 
 
 AN INTERVAL OF SIX \EAKS. 
 
 SCENE ...... On K. are double swinging doors leading to cliurcb, 
 
 which is not shown; through which as they are opened to admit 
 of characters entering, the music of an orgnn and singing of clioir, 
 is heard chanting a Mass for the dead. The odor of incense is 
 wafted tiirough and penetrates to audience. On wall at L. is a 
 miniture altar or shrine, on which several candles are burning; 
 a statue, a crucifix and some vases of Howers. In front of altar 
 is a praying stool. On each side of altar at L. are doors. vSet 
 back on stage R. out of line with swinging doors, are a table and 
 two chairs. In corner on R. is a large mission cross without 
 figure. In corner at L. are registry desk and chair. At back 
 is a long cabinet or chest of drawers, over which some vestments 
 are carelessly thrown. As act opens, Benito is discovered, hold- 
 ing doors at R. open, listening to music. After a pause he 
 releases them, allowing them to close gently, and proceeds to 
 tidy sacristy. As doors are opened, music rises; fading away as 
 they are closed. 
 
<1H 
 
THE HTORY OF INEZ. 63 
 
 Ben How beuutiful (he music is ami how sohvmii aiul ii:ra,ii(l 
 
 tlie new orj^an soimds in tlie old church? Tlie HcMiora, 
 Mazalveda herself, gave it to Ban Carlos, and now it is 
 used for the first time at her own funeral Mass. It 
 seems as if she were only sleeping, so peaceful she 
 looks. How sweet and good she was? (sighs) Ali 
 well, it was her wish to die, she did not care to linger 
 liere after her father, the Don Luis Mazalvedsi had 
 died. Slie was lonely without liim and yet — the poor 
 • will mourn her greatly. How bravely the young Padre 
 
 Muzalveda hears his loss and how hard he tries to re- 
 press his grief? Well, well, death must come to us 
 all and so we must prepare ourselves, 
 (enter children, L. 1. D., bearing tiowers. ) 
 
 Ben Well children, what do you want here? 
 
 1st. Ciiild. .We want you to take these flowers to the Senora Maz- 
 alveda, who is dead, (points R. ) She is in there 
 Benito. We couldn't get in the church, it is so crowd- 
 ed. Won't you put them near her? 
 
 Ben ( taking tiowers. ) Si, my children ; I will take tliem 
 
 for you. Beside the others in tlie church they will 
 look beautiful. Give them to me and tread softly and 
 don'tdisturb the Mass. (exeunt children softly, L. 1. D. ) 
 How sweet these tiowers are and how pleased the 
 Padre Andreo will be when he hears whence they 
 come. ( exit into church, R.) 
 ( enter Van Raer, L. 1. D., old and decrepid. ) 
 
 Van How unfortunate that I should have come on such a 
 
 <lay? Some extraordinary occasion no doubt, for the 
 church was so crowded, I could not gain admittance- 
 I wonder what place this is. It must be the sacristy^ 
 i imagine. Well perhaps, it will answer my 
 purpose. 
 
 (enter Benito, R. 1). ) 
 
 Ben A. stranger? What seek j^iu, Senor? 
 
64 THE STOKY OF INEZ. 
 
 Van ( quietly ) A priest. 
 
 Ben Ah, Sen or, that is impossible at present. 
 
 Van Why so? 
 
 Ben Because they are all busy to-day. 
 
 Van Busy? 
 
 Ben To-day a requiem is being celebrated. 
 
 Van Can't I see the Director? If you will give my name. 
 
 to Padre Salcodo ? 
 
 Ben .,( interrupting ) Padre Salcedo! He is no longer here. 
 
 Van Not here! Where is he then? 
 
 Ben He is dead Senor. 
 
 Van (shocked ) Dead — ! do you say? 
 
 Ben. . . . . . .The Senor is a stranger not to know that tlie Padre 
 
 Salcedo has been dead since three years. 
 
 Van (much affected ) Dead! My old friend dead. Can it 
 
 be so? Ah, he was a good man, aud I loved him. 
 ( to Benito ) But never mind, some other priest will 
 answer. 
 
 Ben Just at present Senor, all the Padre's at San Carlos are 
 
 engaged on the altar, A mass for the dead is being 
 celebrated and all the priests save one, are busy. 
 
 Van You say all, save one? Can I not see the priest who 
 
 is at liberty? 
 
 Ben It is the mother of that priest who is dead, and he is so 
 
 greatly overcome by his grief as to be unable to 
 attend to any duties. 
 
 Van Is he in the church? 
 
 ]]en He is. 
 
 Van ...... .Then go to him aud tell him that he is wanted by one 
 
 who is in srreat extremity. 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. Cf. 
 
 Ben Pardon Senor, but I would not disturl) liini now. 
 
 Vn.u ( pleadingly ) I have come a iJ:R'at distauee, 1 am 
 
 old and failing and I fear that my streiigtli will not 
 long support me. The matter, is most pressing and 
 delay may be dangerous, go to him I beg of you, 
 
 Ben Excuse me Senor, but I would not disturb him now. 
 
 iian (angrily) Then the blame and censure of Almighty 
 
 God be on your hea 1 for it may then be too late, 
 
 Ben I am sorrj^ Senor, but if yoit could wait until after- 
 noon your wish can then be gratified. At present it 
 is impossible, as I would not interrupt the Padre in 
 his atHiction. 
 
 Van Wait, I cannot wait. Go to him at once and tell him 
 
 that he is wanted by one who is in greater sufiering 
 than himself. Tell him that he must leave the dead to 
 attend the dying. It is his duty, and he will hold you 
 blameless. Go I beseech you, I cannot longer de- 
 lay. 
 
 Ben Well Senor, I will go since you seem in such great 
 
 distress. 
 
 Van (seating himself R.) How these obstacles and diffi- 
 culties try my strength and weary me? ( ydaintively ) 
 Ah, I have become so weak and ill that I am unable 
 to bear my troubles. I wonder who it is that is 
 dead; some person of great prominence, no doubt. 
 Oh ! if I too could only die and forever end this agony 
 and misery that I endure. How I long for rest and 
 peace within the grave. Ah, happy the person who- 
 ever it is, who lies there in the church, beyond those 
 doors; whose soul now released from its miserable 
 body, soars upwards to relief. ( enter Andreo, K. I), 
 with the marks of a great and recent sorrow plainly 
 
66 THE STOKY OF ]NEZ„ 
 
 discernible upon liis face. He remains, quietly re- 
 garding Van Raer, until cue. ) How I envy that 
 person for whom life's trials have ended and who has 
 quitted this hateful world, wherein existence has been 
 such a torture to me. 
 
 And (advancing) You sent for me, Senor? 
 
 Van (rising) Pardon me Padre, for thus disturbing you 
 
 in your bereavement, but I am ill and cannot long 
 survive, and I feared to delay. 
 
 And Do not consider me Senor, it is my duty. 
 
 Van When I came here I sought the Padre Salcedo, whom 
 
 formerly I knew most intimately. 
 
 And The Padre Salcedo has gone to his reward, Senor. 
 
 Van So I have just learned. Padre, I do not wish to keep 
 
 you from your dead, so I will not long detain you. 
 Were it not that I am in such great extremity, I 
 would not so intrude upon your grief. 
 
 And I believe you sir. It is ray vocation to minister to 
 
 the spiritual necessities of others, and my sufferings 
 must not be allowed to interfere or conflict with that 
 duty. Proceed Senor, I am at your service. 
 
 Van With gratitude Padre. T continue. Personally I am 
 
 unknown to you, but in San Francisco, I am highly 
 honored and hold a respected position. My name 
 is John Van Raer. I am of a familj' whose lineage 
 extends to the earlj^ colonists of New Amsterdam, To 
 me has come, great material success Padre, and T 
 have been extremely prorpen^ns. 
 
 And Then how are you in distress? Is your suffering of 
 
 tlie mind or body? 
 
 Van Of botli Padre. Physically and mentally I am broken 
 
 and despairing. Before relating to you the reason for 
 
THE ISTORY OF INEZ, 67 
 
 my ]>reseiit siiflferings, it will be well to tell you that 
 I nni not of yonr religion, nor nin ] in f:u*t of any 
 faith; my only belief being in the existence of :i 
 ])ivine Providence, whose justice and f<everity I have 
 , had bitter reason to acknowledge. 
 
 And It is well, since you do acknowledge Him, 
 
 Van Did Padre t^alcedo still survive, much might lie 
 
 spared me, for he was t.'onversant with the matter 
 • which so troubles me now. Having once inilicted a. 
 
 terrible injury uj^on a member of your church, I noAv 
 desire to obtain from you some consolation and relief. 
 I have been inspired to this explanation by the hope 
 of ridding myself of this heavy burden of misery and 
 guilt, that I acquired so long ago. 
 
 And (solemnly) God's mercy is great Senor, use it freely. 
 
 Van Forgive me for my hesitancy, but I cannot approacli 
 
 this subject without experiencing tlie greatest suti'er- 
 ing. Padre, my story is a sad one, and is so fraught 
 with misery and degradation, tliat 1 sink in shame 
 before you. 
 
 And Do not think of me l^^enor, proceed. 
 
 Van Years ago young sir, I found myself bereft of family 
 
 and fortune at a single blow. Reared in idleness and 
 plenty, I was now compelled to earn lor myself the 
 necessaries of my existence. With the unalterable 
 resolution of regaining all that my mime had lost, 1 
 boldly entered upon my career. Possessed of the 
 highest ideals and with the greatest ambition, I was 
 determined to plod on unwaveringly, in the hope that 
 through me would be restored all that misfortune 
 had so ruthlessly demanded. 
 
 And You were right Senor, to persevere. 
 
68 THE STORY 0»F I 
 
 Van Having met with some success, I now determined in 
 
 furtherance of my projects, to accomi^lisli at one stroke 
 a still greater advance. This was to secure by a 
 judicious marriage, the influence and assistance of the 
 most highly respected jurist in the state. 
 
 ^^ih1 A grave matter Senor. 
 
 "^'♦^•^1 Again successful, I was accepted and became bound 
 
 to one, whom tliough I did not love her, I yet esteem- 
 vd most highly. Arrived at this juncture of njy life, 
 with every prospect of a prosperous future, I encoun- 
 tered my fate. Coming liither to facilitate the busin- 
 ess of my employers, 1 met the one woman in all 
 the world whom I could love. 
 ( pauses with emotion. ) 
 
 And ( kindly ) Proceed Senor. 
 
 Van ...... Young, beautiful, gifted; of a family whose origin 
 
 receded iuto the years, she appeared to me the 
 perfect embodiment of the ideal woman. Surrounded 
 with all that love and a tender devotion could suggest 
 she w^*^s as innocent a,nd pure as an angel, Witliout 
 realizing my danger and charmed with her gentleness 
 and b(iauty, I sought and obtained the honor of her 
 acquaintance. It having developed that the business 
 which brought me to Monterey, concerned her father, 
 this acquaintance soon ripened into friendship, from 
 which the transition to a more fervid sentiment was 
 inevitable. 
 
 And You say this occurred in Monterey? 
 
 Van In Monterey. Well, from tliat time, it was the old, 
 
 old, story. Lulled into forgetfniness by these new and 
 alluring emotions, and all unconscious of my obliga- 
 tion, I allowed myself to fall deei)er and deeper into 
 an abyss, whence I could only issue at tlvc price i>i a. 
 woman's bonor ; at the peril of a woman's souS 
 
thp: story of INEZ. 69 
 
 And (fearfully) Hcjriible, .Seiior, horrible! 
 
 Van ( with great emotion) Oh Padre, you cannot know 
 
 the anguish that was mine. Pledged in honor and in 
 loyalty to another with the a<ldilional obligation of my 
 oath to a dying father, to restore and perpetuate my 
 name honorably, yet with the speetacle of this great 
 distress before me, how was I to determine? 
 
 And [ meaningly) How indeed, Senor? 
 
 y.in 'Tis true her family was above reproach, but still if 
 
 was not the alliance that the world would have ap- 
 proved and I did not care to defy it. Well so I drifted 
 along with the tide that was so rapidly bearing mo 
 towards my destruction. ( growing more exciter? ) 
 Then on a sudden came a terrible awakening anci 
 frighted and appalled, I realized my position. Tij 
 that tierce, wild, moment I seemed to stand as on a 
 precipice and — hell yawned beneath, eager to engul! 
 me. (wildly) Oh, to recall the past, to blot out the 
 weary years that have intervened, and to have chosen 
 diti'erently. 
 
 And (greatly agitated) And how <]id you determine 
 
 Senor? 
 
 Van But you seem greatly agitate<l Padre; ]ierhaps in 
 
 your bereaved and stricken condition, my story is 
 more tha.n you can endure? 
 
 And [intensely) No, no, Senor; })rcceed. 
 
 Van Placed in such a terrible position, my heart impera- 
 tively urging me one way; my atnbi ion, the <n.her ; 
 wracked and tormented by the violence of my 
 disai)pointment, I yielded to my stronger passion and 
 despite iier agony and despair, I repudiated her and 
 denied my obligation. Fleeing from the ])lace I 
 left her to meet her. disgrace, helpless and alone. 
 
 And ( furiously ) And she? What became of tiiis woman, 
 
 whom your cowardice and infamy ha«I destroyed? 
 
70 THE STORY OF INEZ. 
 
 Van (pathetically) The one single ray of hope that has 
 
 remained to me since that fatal time, is the know- 
 ledge that though disgraced and despoiled, she was not 
 cast out of her father's house. Despite her shame and 
 my desertion, she was not allowed to destroy herself. 
 Her father, whose love triumphed over the sensation 
 of his grief and dishonor, forgave anti cared for her. 
 Since that time, save only for the knowledge of her 
 misfortune and the memory of my perfidy, she has 
 lived in peace. ( acutely ) The only solace that has 
 been vouchsafed me in the misery of my existence, is 
 the certainty that Inez did not suffer further. 
 
 And ( intensely ) Inez? 
 
 Van Yes, Inez, that was her name, (noticing Andreo's 
 
 * excitement ) But you seem greatly excited Padre? 
 
 What is the matter; shall I summon assistance? 
 
 And Oh, it is nothing, the emotions of tlie day have weak- 
 ened me, that is all. Do not alarm yourself on my 
 account; I am quite well, only your story moves me 
 strongly. Go on I pray you. 
 
 Van Well after the terrible event, I fled iiway as In ni 
 
 contagion. I was married to the lady to whom 1 
 was promised, and who never understood my aver- 
 sion and dislike to revisit Monterey. Years passe*! 
 until my wife died, leaving me childless and alone. 
 She was a good woman Padre, and she loved me to 
 the end, ignorant of my perfidy and dishonor. 
 
 And A just punishment Senor, 
 
 Van Again time passed and I never remarried. Years 
 
 thereafter, I could endure this terrible silence no 
 longer and so I determined to return to Monterey 
 and to find Inez and im})lore her forgiveness and U> 
 give me some part in the affections of my child. Jn 
 spite of all that hadoccured 1 still loveed her and being 
 
1 
 
 j 
 
 
THE STORY\OF JNWl. 7] 
 
 aloiio decided to cast myself upon her mercy to pour 
 out all the bitterness and anguish of my life in an effort 
 to obtain lier pardon and recognition. I could no longer 
 live without it, and I prefered to brave any alternative 
 to obtain it. 
 
 And (intensely) And you returned? 
 
 Van Yes. 
 
 ^lul And wliat wa:^ her answer? 
 
 Van That having repudiated her; I was entitled to no por- 
 tion of the affection of my son. For herself, she freely 
 forgave me but told me to leave lier presence forever. 
 As for my son, his father was dc\u\ to liim and he must 
 never be resurrected. 
 
 And. ... .'Twas most just. 
 
 Van (painfully) Oh, she was an angel, and never for 
 
 one single moment during all those terrible years, have 
 I ceased to love her. She was tome, though she knew it 
 not, my life, my inspiration and my hope; though 
 I wronged her, I loved her and I shall always love 
 and honor Inez Mazalveda. 
 
 And (observing Van and wildly excited ) Inez Mazalveda! 
 
 Great God! Can this be true? Am I the sport of 
 fancy, the victim of an hallucination, or has a miracle 
 come to pass? 
 
 Van (alarmed) Why, what is the matter. Padre? You 
 
 seem to be in great excitement, you are agitated and 
 disturbed! What can be the matter, you are in dis- 
 tress. Padre; what is it? (fearfully) Why liow 
 strangely you look at me! How tixed and in(iuiring 
 is your gaze? Padre, Padre, what is the matter; tell 
 me, you alarm me? (as in sudden recognition) By 
 Heaven! this is not our first meeting? (doul»tingly ) 
 Where have I seen you before? Ali yes, liow I re- 
 
72 THE STOKY OF INEZ:. 
 
 member; it was in the garden of the Kanc]|io El 
 Mario, on that terrible day that I was dismissed. ' That 
 
 is it. It must be and yet it seems that J 
 
 must know you. Surely it could not be? (wonderingly ) 
 I never saw you before and yet your likeness is strong 
 to some one I have known, long, long ago. Great 
 Heavens Padre, help me, tell me, who are you? 
 ( During speech Van has slowly approached Padre, who 
 has been regarding him in intense silence. Andreo 
 with great cry, drasgs Van by the throat and throws 
 him, to his knees, where he holds him with liis left 
 hand.) 
 
 And I ani your judge! 
 
 Van (hysterically) Oh. to think of all those years, and nt>w 
 
 to meet him thus. 
 
 And ( throwing Van from him.) Ali sir, it is Providence 
 
 that has brought you here to nu', luid it is Providence 
 that will punish you. .After all these years, I meet at 
 last, the betrayer of my sainted mother ; who lies there 
 in the church, before her God. 
 
 Van (wildly) Dead! Inez, dead? My God, ray God! 
 
 that You should reserve this for my tinal punishment? 
 
 And So at last I meet the man who is responsible for my 
 
 being, the author of my existence, who spurned and 
 repudiated me. (wildly) At last I behold the dog 
 who could so desecrate and defile a sanctuary. Ah 
 sir, the inspiration that brought you hither was a 
 holy one and I am glad that you followed it. To 
 me then is delegated the sacred office of avenging my 
 mother and I will not falter. 
 
 Van (in terror) Padre, my son, what would you do? 
 
 And An act of justic. Too long have you been allowe<l to 
 
 remain unpunished for the nameless crime, of which 
 you are guilty. For all these years you have retuaine<l 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 73 
 
 unmolested, whilst my mother, she who was so pure 
 and gentle, has been compelled to undergo the misera- 
 ble consequences of your infamous treatment. She has 
 endured a martyrdom beside which your puny suffer- 
 ings seem as nothing. 
 
 Van (brokenly) My son. 
 
 A^id Ever since I have been old enough to realize my po- 
 sition, I have suffered from the knowledge of the 
 infamy of my birth. To you, I am no son, to me, you 
 are no father. I repudiate and repulse you with hor- 
 ror. You can never be aught to me, for you, there can 
 be no redemption, for such as you, are accursed. 
 
 Van ( horrified ) Oh do not say, "accursed" ! Pity, my 
 
 son, pity me. Surely you cannot mean to do me 
 violence? Think only of how I have repented for my 
 sin, of my sufferings and remorse, and it must inspire 
 your lieart vvitli mercy. 
 
 And Nothing that you can snmmon to your defense can 
 
 aid you now, in your extremity. Coward and traitot 
 dastard and cur, tlie judgment of God is upon you, 
 and you cannot evade your doorn. ( in an ecstasy 
 of pain and exaPation. ) Oh, sainted mother, look 
 down upon your anguished son and grant me absolu- 
 tion for that, which I am about to do. Oh, madre 
 mio, you who were so basely, cruelly deceived and so 
 fearfully punished for a crime of which you were only 
 the innocent victim ; the moment of your vindication 
 is at hand and it is I who will avenge you. 
 
 Van ... . ( in great distress ) What would you do. 
 
 And (to Van and working himself into a passion ) Monster 
 
 of iniquity, whom Heaven has spared until now that 
 I may ixiete out to you the awful vengeance of an out- 
 raged and affronted Deity, prepare yourself, for your 
 end is near. Bad and wicked man who has wrought 
 
74 THE STOEY OF INEZ. 
 
 so much that is of evil, your punishment has at last 
 overtaken you, and the terrible moment of your ex- 
 piation is at hand and it is I ? 
 
 (again grasps Van by the throat and is about to kill 
 him when in the midst of their struggle, the doors 
 leading from church swing open as if bj^ chance or 
 the draught and the sound of a silver bell being struck 
 is heard destinctly, as it rings clear and musicall5^ 
 Andreo pauses suddenlj^ as if recalled to a sense of his 
 position as a minister of God, and the impossibility of 
 his retaliation on Van. A i)ause.) 
 
 Van ( painfully and brokenly ) Well my son, why do you 
 
 hesitate? • 
 
 And ( without noticing Van's question, releases him, then 
 
 throws himself despairingly on praying stool half-sob- 
 bing) My God, it is too late, I can no longer avenge 
 my motlier, 
 
 ( A pause during which Van slowlj' recovers himself 
 and approacljes Andreo ) 
 
 Y'dii C plain tively ) Do you hate me so very much? 
 
 And. ... ( recovering himself with an effort) Hate you? No, I 
 loathe and detest you. I can no longer hate you for 
 now it is my duty to forgive you. I am only aggriev- 
 ed that I so far forgot myself as to threaten you. 
 
 Van Oh my son, was it for this only that I have been led 
 
 to come to you? 
 
 And Give thanks to God Senor, and to the wisdom and 
 
 generosity of my mother, who lying there in the church 
 dead, has yet so arranged it that you would remain 
 unmolested. Oh wise and far seeing angel, you who 
 hast seemed to penetrate and define the future, I 
 realize now the depth and clemency of jour design to 
 make me what I am. How great and good thou wast 
 and yet^ ? ( longingly and regretfully ) 
 
THE STOEY OF INEZ. 75, 
 
 y^^ • ( mildly ) Surely you do not regret your inability to 
 
 harm me? 
 
 And No SenoT; I do not regret it now. All that is over. 
 
 As for yon sir, depart in peare, y«)iir mission is ac- 
 complished. 
 
 Van .... .(brokenly) Ah my son, your vengeance will not be 
 long delayed. 1 am old, crushed and broken, annihilated 
 by the accumulated sorrows of iny life, and lean not 
 long surviye. the terrible shock, I have just received. 
 ^ I can no longer withstand thp effort of an existence 
 
 that is hwteful to me, and I care not how soon the end 
 maycoDve. Something seems to warn me that my 
 presence here lo-dny is the result of no chance, but 
 on the contrary is the unmistakable manisfestation of 
 Divine premeditation. Oh my son, you will never 
 know or apprecial.' I h«^ extent to which I h.ave been 
 punished and J pray to God you will never know the 
 miser,;^' that I endure. 
 
 ^^^ You are ill Senor, and in suffering, therefore I am 
 
 constrained to spare you further unhappiness. For 
 such guilt as j'ours there can be no adequate expia- 
 tion, save only at the mercy of God, to whom I pray 
 that He may hear yo:i and forgive you. 
 
 Van , . .One single hope only remains to me in the chaos of my 
 life and that is to obtain from you, pardon for what I 
 have done. It is too late now to make leparation, save 
 only by my tears, and therefore I ask, nay beg of yoii- 
 to grant me this one J)oon before I leave. Eemember 
 your mother did not deny me. 
 
 ^"""^ ( ^^1«^^> ) Senor, for I can not call you father, my 
 
 mother was an angel and terrible as was your treat- 
 ment ol her, lam sure that she did pardon you. A.j 
 between God and man, I cannot presume to decide, 
 that must he referred to One above, who will read your 
 xnotives and will judge you accordingly. All that I can 
 
76 THE STOKY OF INEZ. 
 
 do I will do. As for myself, I y ardon you most sincerely. 
 If the intercession of my constant supplications in 
 your behalf, can gain you j)eace, then you may yet 
 obtain relief. May you find contentment and repose 
 in your future life ; happiness I know, is beyond you. 
 
 Van It is well my son, and I thank you and will not keep 
 
 you longer from your duty. Go to her who was and 
 is a saint, (breaking as his memory reverts to her) 
 Oh, my God! Inez, that I should be condemned to leave 
 you thus again and to wander forth upon that painful 
 journey to the grave alone. Inez, how the magic of 
 your name still thrills my soul. How beautiful it is, 
 and how my heart resiponds with loving emotion to 
 its memories. How it awakens in my being every genti- 
 
 nient of affectionate re ? (breaks off suddenly 
 
 as if in great painJ ) 
 
 And . . . . .( alarmed ) Senor, Senor, what is the matter are you ill? 
 
 Van ( without heeding him ) Ah, the time is long Inez, 
 
 but patience, I am corning. I shall be with you soon 
 , ,. and all will be well and — ■ — (with great cry) Ah, at 
 last, I shall be at peace. It seems as if I could not 
 breathe. Oh, lieavens what sensatioli is this which 
 oppresses ine? Oh, death, I welcome you gladly. 
 How I have longed for you, and liow patiently I 
 have waited. 
 
 And ( much alarmed) What is the matter? Shall I sum- 
 mon assistance? You are ill Senor ; I will call for 
 help, for I have no wish now that you should die. 
 
 Van ( seating himself with the help of Andreo at table E. ) 
 
 And I my son, have no wish to live. Do not be alarm- 
 ed or call anyone and do not leave me. Ah, cruel, 
 heartless world wherein I have found only suffering 
 and disappointment, I leave you at last. 
 
 And Do not say so sir, for there is hope -yet, you will 
 
THE STORY OF INEZ. 77 
 
 recover. You can yet live to atone. 
 
 Van (solemnly) I have atoned, my son, for my life lias 
 
 been a curse to me and I do not wi^b to prolong it; 
 pity me and pray for me my son, foi- J have been very 
 wicked and my deeds have brought missery and dis- 
 grace to those I have loved. To me the end is near, 
 and I shall find rest and peace at last. 
 
 And ( anxiously and much alarmed ) 8enor! 
 
 Van ( rising and turning weakly to Andreo ) Farewell my 
 
 son, I go to greet your ( with a great cry 
 
 he falls on the stage ) Inez! ( Expires. ) 
 
 And (solemnly and brokenly standing over Van.) May 
 
 God have mercy on his soul. Kequiescat in pace. 
 ( turns to small altar and sinks on his knees on pray- 
 ing stool with head buried on cushion, while his arms 
 are raised to statue on alter. Oh madre mio! 
 ( sobs convulsively.) 
 
 Benito enters from church R. D. and stands as if amazed 
 holding both doors wide open whilst full choir is heard 
 chanting the mass. 
 
 — CURTAIN. — 
 
 L«fC. 
 
OCT 8 1900