BAD ADVICE. *}?* ^ — COMEDY, IN THREE ACTS. ADAPTED FROM THE FRENCH. By HORACE W. FULLER, Author of “ False Pretensions etc. TOGETHER, WITH DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUMES— CAST OF THE CHARACTERS — EN- TRANCES AND EXITS — RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORM- ERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE BUSINESS. NEW YORK THE DE WITT PUBLISHING HOUSE No. 33 Rose Street. Copyright, 1888, by A. T, B. Pe Witt. BAD ADVICE. CHARACTERS. Edmond Blandinet. Francois Blandinet. Gustave Aubertin. Louis, Edmond’s son. Albert, Francois’ son. Mizabran, a bootmaker. Joseph., a s ?rvanf& Second Boc hua^er. Henrietta. Ldmo-..a , s wife, Laura, Aub duigrn/.-r Prudence, maid servant. TIME IN REPRESENTATION— ABOUT TWO HOURS. SCENERY. ACT I. — An elegantly furnished room. Doors c., r. and l. ; a table set for b ;ik- fast c. ; small table and sideboard l. ; sofa r. ; chairs, etc. ACT II.— Same as Act I. ACT III. — A room furnished as a library and office. Doors in .flat c.; also R. 3 z. and l. 3e.; library table c.; desk r. ; bookcase l. ; chairs, etc. COSTUMES. — Of the present time. PROPERTIES Act I.— Unfinished fancy bag and small basket of embroidery materials f XL s bietta; table china, glassware, napkins, etc., on sideboard; 1 ote-hook, pap? ai d pencil for Blandinet; pitcher of water, glass and plate of radishes for Louis; server with coffee in cups for Joseph; gold watch and chain for Albert ; package of i ; ; h- for Laura; coins for Louis and Francois; letter for Francois ; pfqrse and haiidk* ■:)*- chief for Blandinet. Act II. — Dust brush and cloth for Joseph and Prudence; hat for Louis; pitcher’ of hot water for Joseph; bill for Blandinet; decanter, pitcher of water and bowl .f sugar on sideboard; also dishes and tumblers; boots for Mizalran; shoes for Sso* ond Bootmaker; watch for Blandinet; file of bills for Louut hat on table f 'yt J Blandinet; scarf pin for Francois; writing materials on table i *. ; coin for Ajlbek ?; muff and handkerchief for Blandinet. . • If Act III. — Scales for Joseph; keys and small account book f vv Blandinet ; si » of paper (boot measure) and bank notes for Mizabran; scarf pir fVr;IIiant)for Alb d ... folded document for Aubertin; writing materials on desk. STAGE DIRECTIONS. R. means Right of Stage, facing the Audience; L. Left; C. ( Centre; L. C. Left of Centre: D. F. Door in the Flat, or Scei back of the Stage; C. D. F. Centre Door in the Flat; R. D. Flat; L. D. F. Left Door in the FlatpR. D. Right Door; L. D. Entrance; 2 E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance ; 1, 2 or Third Groove. R- R. C. C. L. C. JSSaT The reader is supposed to be upon the stage facing the [For Syi W if5b BAD ADVICE. ACT I. SCENE An elegantly furnished room. Doors o., r. and l. A table c., mi for breakfast; small table and sideboard l. ; sofa r. ; chai)% eU v Discovers Henrietta seated on sofa r., embroidering a bag; Louis seated beside her on a cricket . Henrietta What a chattering you do keep up. Really, Louis, if you persist in pouring your confidences into my ears, I shall never finish my bag. , Louis. Tim ' mould be too bad? IplEtf And how disappointed Laura will be. Are you making it for her? Bek. ’I t is rny contribution to the raffle she is getting up. She is coming for it to-day, and if it is not done '&■ :.XouT3* Ob. 1 She is coming here to-day ? {tHen. Yes, she is coming here to-day. Lou s. And . ou promise me that you will speak to her? wjugr. I promise you. And you, on your part, must speak to her fath- er ; and if ' o? thing goes well, and I believe it will, in less than two weeks Monsieur and Madame Blandinet will have the honor to announce to their frietdu and acquaintances, the engagement of their son Louis £0 Mademoiselle Laura Aubertin. .dj LotriS. Oil! how good j r ou are. Heu ‘ hy. a step-mother, you know, must be doubly good if she fvould conquer prejudice. Louis., it seems to me that in marrying again, my father has given me. a sister. Enter Joseph, c He places dishes upon the table , takes chairs from L. and arranges them at table. Hen. That mast not prevent your respecting and obeying me. Louis (asmmirig a childish tone). Of course not, mamma. - Joseph. I? real fast is served, madame. Louis. Go and tell my father, Joseph. Hen. (to Joseph). Your master is in the library, (to Louts) He is en- gaged in l terrible undertaking. [ Exit Joseph, c. Louis. A terrible undertaking. What do you mean ? Hen. He is writing to his tenants to tell them that he is about to raise their rent. ? \o\^\ BAD ADYICE. * Louis. What ! My father raise the rent ! ( smiling ) Oh ! it is impossi- ble. For twenty years he has not been able to make up his mind to do it. Hen. I persuaded him to do so this morning. “They are not ten- ants,” he said; “they are friends. I shall break up a friendship oi twenty years standing. Louis. Poor father ! what a tender heart he has. Enter , l., Blandinet, with a paper in Ids hand. Hen. ( seeing him). There he is ! ( she and Louis rise. To her hus- band) Well, my dear, have you done it? Blandinet. Have I done it : have I done it? Do you think it is a thing to be done in a moment? (unfolding paper) I have made a rough draft Hen. ( looking over his shoulder'). Why, you have scratched most of it out ! Bland. Yes; I tried to soften it. (reading) “ Sir — ” (stops) Sir, to men from whom I have received money for twenty years ! Hen. Why not make it “Dear Sir” ? Bland. Ah, yes — that is a good idea. ( taking out pencil) I will write it down so that I shall not forget it. (writes) “Dear Sir.” (reads) “Dear Sir — I beg you to believe that it is with feelings of the deepest regret that I take my pen in hand to write to you ” Hen. Very good. Bland. Is it not a little formal— a little cold? Louis (laughing). Why, no ; it doesn’t strike me so. Bland, (reading). “But reasons, which I am sure you will appreciate when I have made them known to you, oblige me to take this painful step ” Louis. First rate! Hen. Well, what next? Bland. That is as far as I have got. I stopped there Hen. and Louis. What! Bland. Hang it all ! I promise them reasons, and I have none to give. Oh! if I only had; but I have not. The houses are just the same as when I let them to them, I have not enlarged them — I have not even kept them in decent repair. On the contrary, they are in a wretched condition. Why, it is they who ought to ask me for a reduction of their rent. That would be more reasonable. Hen. That may be, my dear, but as everybody is raising his rents Bland, (animated). No, it is cruel, it is wicked! It is^a mean, heart- less thing which you wish me to do. Louis. Father! Hen. Well, well, we will drop the subject for the present. Come and sit down to breakfast. Bland. No, I am not hungry. When one lias such a letter to write— Hen. Well, you can write it later, at the end of the next quarter. Bland, (delighted). Yes, that will be better. It will give me time to seek for reasons— good reasons, if there are any. ( they sit at table) Ah ! I feel relieved, (to Louis) Pass me the radishes, Louis, (to his wife) By the way, you know that my brother Francois is coming to-day. Hen. I have had a room prepared for him. Louis. I’ll bet that my uncle has raised his rents. Bland. If he has good reasons he has done right When I have good reasons I am very firm. I am indeed something" of a tyrant. Hen. (laughing). You? BAD ADVICB. Louis. Poor father ! ’ - Bland. Why, you remember Williams, our old coachman. Hen. Who got drunk every day. Louis. And upset us three times in a week. Bland. I summarily discharged him. Hen. That is to say, I sent him away. Bland. You— well, yes; but I told you to. I would not have him any longer. “ Get rid of him,” I said, and you attended - to the details. Louis. And you, you sent him a hundred francs by Joseph, when he went away. Bland. Ahem ! Joseph is a tattler. Give me a glass of water. Louis (i giving him water'). By the way, father, on the Bourse there were rumors about your banker, Monsieur Turneps. They say that he is in a bad condition. Bland. All ! poor fellow ! I must go and call upon him. Louis. Not himself, but his business. Bland. Really ? Ah ! I am deeply grieved to hear it. Louis. It is also said that you have three hundred thousand francs deposited in his hands. Bland. That is true. Louis. Had you not better authorize me to withdraw them ? Bland. What! All at once? That might hurt his feelings. Poor fellow ! I should not do that. Louis. But Bland. I must withdraw them gradually, without having the appear- ance of doing- it— five thousand francs at a time. Louis {aside). He would never finish at that rate. Bland. By the way, has Mizabran, my bootmaker, been here this morning ? Hen. Yes, and said he would call again. There is a tenant who pays you in fine words. Enter Joseph, c. He removes plates and brings coffee. Bland. He is a poor man and the father of a family ; and after all, he only owes me for six quarters. Louis. Six quarters ! Bland. Yes-; but he has an account against me. Last week he brought me three pairs of boots. Louis. Which you had not ordered. Bland. It is is true. He had the delicacy to make them without wait- ing for an order. . {Exit Joseph, c. Hen. So that at the present moment you have sixty pairs of new boots in vour wardrobe ! t Bland Well, what can I do? I can’t wear them all ; and then it is partly vour fault, my dear. If you would only let him make your boots, he would soon pay me all he owes. The honest fellow only asks a chance to work. _ .. . , . Hen. No, I thank you; I beg to be excused. Why, the boots he makes vou would fit an elephant! Bland. But they are well made, and don’t hurt me. I hate tight boots. Enter Joseph, c. Jos. Monsieur! Bland. What? , Jos. Mizabran is here. He says he comes about the rent. Hen. and Louis {astonished). What ! BAD ADVICE. b upland. There ! Yon see he brings me money, (to Joseph) Show him in. (to Henrietta and Louis) You shouldn’t be too hasty in judging such people. [Exit Joseph, c. -Enter Mizabran, c. Bland. Come in, Mizabran, come in. Mizabran (with German accent). Oh ! pardon me; I disturb you. I will call again. Bland. No, no ! sit down. I will finish my coffee and then am at your service. (Mizabran looks up and down l. and not seeing a chair, 'places his hat on the floor. Blandinet still at table) Well, what news, Mizabran ? Business looking up a little? Miz. (taking a measure f rom his pocket). Alas ! no. My business is very bad — very bad. (gets on his knees beside Blandinet and takes his measure.) Bland, (drinking his coffee, not seeing him). I am sorry to hear it, my good fellow, (perceiving him) Why, what are you doing there? Miz. I thought that on rent day — (rises.) Hen. (aside to Blandinet). Always the same story ! Louis (aside). Sixty-one ! Father had better open a boot store. Bland, (aside). I must talk to the fellow. This is becoming a nuis- ance. (aloud, rising) Mizabran, I hope you will not take offence at what I am going to say to you ; but I must confess that to-day I hoped for a little money. Miz. Oh ! M. Blandinet, believe me Bland, (lowering his voice). Not all, but a little. Miz. It is not my fault, monsieur ; and if I could I certainly would. I said to my wife this morning, there is no greater happiness than paying one’s rent. Bland. You are a good fellow, Mizabran ; your sentiments do you honor. Miz. But business is very dull ; it’s all owing to the American war. I really can’t pay anything. I would if I could. Bland, (to his wife). You see, my dear, the fact is, he can’t do any- thing. Miz. Besides, my wife is sick, and my little one has got the whooping- cough. Blan. (asicle). Poor people ! how I pity them. Miz. I have always been a good tenant, monsieur. Bland. I know it, my good fellow, I know it. Miz. Misfortunes come to the best of us. I do try to get work, (blub- bering) Oli ! M. Blandinet, you make me feel so badly. Bland. I ? Miz. You seem to think that I do not wish to pay. Bland, (quickly). I did not say that ; you are mistaken, Mizabran, you are mistaken. Miz. (still blubbering). It is very painful, when one is an honest man, and one has a sick wife Bland. Come, cheer up. my good fellow. All will come out right. Miz. Oh! I have no luck; everything seems to go against me. Adieu, monsieur. Bland, (detaining him. In a low voice). Well, make me three or four pairs ; but don’t say anything about it to my wife. Miz. Thank you, monsieur. I notice that your foot is growing larger, but the price will be just the same. Bland. Very well. Adieu, Mizabran. Miz. (bowing). Adieu, monsieur— madame. BAD ADVICU. 7 Bland. ( accompanying him). Courage ! my good fellow, courage ! It will come out all right. {Exit Mizabran, c. Bland. ( sitting down at table). Poor fellow! I am afraid I was rather hard oil him. Louis {laughing). I thought you were terribly severe. Hen. And after all you did not receive a sou. Enter Joseph, c. Jos. Monsieur, your tenants are here. Bland, (to his wife). You see— it is just noon — how prompt they are. Hen. (rising, as does Louis). Do they bring their rent? Jos. I do not know, madame; but they have some requests to make. Bland. Ah ! Show them into my office. {Exit Joseph, c. Hen. (to Louis). Don’t you think you had better go with your father? Louis. I will do so willingly. (Joseph re-enters and clears table.) Bland. That is a good idea, because when there are two, if they ask me anything I can refer them to you. Come ! As they are going out Albert enters , c. Louis. What ! Albert ! Bland. My nephew ! Hen. (aside). He! Albert. Well, uncle, how are you, and you, Louis? (bowing coldly to Henrietta) Madame ! Bland. Why where have you kept yourself, my boy? I have not seen you for a year and a day. Formerly we could hardly drive you away from here. Albert (embarrassed). It is true, uncle ; but you know business is a hard taskmaster. I have been working almost constantly. Bland. Ah ! Albert. Yes, very hard, (changing his tone) Hasn’t papa arrived? Bland. Not yet, but we are expecting him. Albert. He wrote me to meet him here. Bland. But for that you would not have come. Oh ! I shall have to scold you, my boy. But excuse me for a short time. There are some persons waiting in my office. Stay and chat with your aunt. Come, Louis. It is agreed that I shall refer them to you. (exit with Louis, l. Henrietta, who had seated herself after Albert’s entrance , rises and folds up her work. ) Albert (approaching her hesitatingly). Have you finished your work, aunt? [Henrietta bows coldly and exit , r. Albert (after watching her out). Always the same! She is still angry. Ever since I told her that I thought she was beautiful, she has treated me with cold disdain. Well, she is pretty, and I’m sure there was no harm in my telling her so. Enter Francois, c. Francois (entering). Upon my word, there is a driver for you ! He dared to ask me for a gratuity ! I’m not a fool if do I look like one. I am up to that sort of thing. Albert. Hello, papa ! Fran. Ah ! my boy, is it you ? Albert (offering to embrace him). Will you allow me? Fran. ( keeping him back). One moment ! I want to question you first. How’s business? 8 BAD ADVICE. Albert. Good. Fran. Your conduct? Albert. Excellent. Fran. Your habits? Albert. Irreproachable. Fran. Yery good. You may embrace me. ( they embrace. Aside) That is the way to bring up children ! Albert. Everything going on well at home, papa? Fran. Not badly. Cottons are dull, but worsteds are active! ( ener- getically ) Oh ! we shall end by beating them soundly. Albert. Beating who? Fran. Why, the English, to be sure. Where is my brother? Albert. In his office. I will tell him you are here, {goes up l.) Fran, {crossing r.). No, don’t disturb him ; I can have a little talk with you. You say that you are busy? Albert. Yes, papa. Fran. You are telling the truth? Albert. Do you doubt it? Fran. No ; but I believe only what I see. Have you done any plead- ing yet? Albert. Not yet, papa ; I have had no cases. But I give lessons in law — lectures. Fran. And you make money ? Albert. Yes, papa. Fran. How much? Albert {hesitating). Why Fran. How much? Albert {resolutely). Four hundred francs a month. Fran. A nice little sum. Let me see them. Albert. I haven’t them with me. Fran. You know what I told you — when you saved up anything you were to send it to me. Albert. Yes, papa. Fran. I promised you ten per cent., just to encourage you ; but I have seen nothing yet. Albert. A little later — this year I had to furnish my room. Fran. Ah ! To-morrow morning I will go and see your furniture. Albert. And then I bought a gold watch and chain, {showing them) Here they are. Fran. A watch ! What the devil do you want of a watch in Paris ? It’s a needless extravagance ; there are plenty of clocks here. Enter Blandinet and Louis, l. Bland, {to Louis as he enters). I tell you they are right; they ought not to be obliged to pay the taxes on doors and windows. Albert. But it is customary, papa. Bland. I let them a house ; of course they must be able to get in and out, and they must have light and air. Let us be logical, my son. Fran, {interrupting). But it is customary. Bland. What! Francois! I did not see you. I hope you had a pleas- ant journey. Fran. Very pleasant, {they shake hands.) Bland. And everything is going well with you? Fran. Not bad. Worsteds are active. Bland. Ah ! that is good. Louis. Well, uncle, don’t you intend to speak to me? BAB ADVICE. 9 Fran. Why, it must be Louis, my nephew! {grasps his hand) I didn’t recognize you, my boy. Bland. You haven’t seen him for two years; and he has let his mus- tache grow. Fran. Ah! And you allowed it? Bland. What? Allowed his mustache to grow? Why, how does it concern me? Fran. You ought to exercise your authority. Bland. Your son wears one. Fran. What! he? — lie wear a mustache? Look at him. {looks at him ) Why, bless me ! so he does. I’ll have it off at short notice, I prom- ise you. {to Albert) Go to the barber’s at once. Don’t let me see you with that thing again, {to Blandinet) And what are you going to make of this great boy with a mustache? Bland. He is an advocate. Louis. I am an advocate. Bland. Like his uousin. Fran. Does he plead ? Louis. Oh ! not yet. Fran. Ah ! It seems to me that none of the advocates in Paris plead. And how do you occupy your time? Bland. Why, he walks and drives, and goes into society. Albert {to his father). There, you see, papa. Fran, {to Albert). Silence! Don’t listen to such stuff. Bland. And besides, he assists me in looking after my property. He has my power of attorney. Fran. Bah ! That cannot be very fatiguing. Louis {aside). What is he trying to pry into our family affairs for? Fran. I believe that at the age of twenty a young fellow is a man, and ought to be no expense to his parents, {to Albert) Are you listening? Albert. Yes, papa. Bland. What! no expense? How do you expect the boy to live? Fran, {pointing to Albert). You see that youth there? On his twen- tieth birthday I cut off’ his allowance. I said to him: You are a, man- shift for yourself; and he did. He has made his own way. He gives lessons in law — he lectures, and he makes money, {to Albert) Is that true? Albert. Yes, papa. Bland. But you give him something? Fran. Five louis on his birthday, and five louis on New Years day. I place them in my own hands to his credit, and allow him interest at ten per cent. — that interest I add to the principal. Bland. Great good that does him ! Fran. The first year, indeed, he did attempt to wheedle something out of me. He wrote me a pitiful story, gotten up for the occasion ; but I promptly refused. I Avrote him but a few words, and they were to the point. “You’ll get nothing out me. I am up to that sort of thing. You can’t fool me ! ” Bland. And he loves you ? Fran. Does he love me? {brusquely to Albert) Do you love me? Albert. Oh! yes, papa. Fran. There, you see ! Bland, {aside). Poor boy ! Fran. And your son — how much do you give him? Bland. Why, I give him whatever he asks for. I don’t keep any ac- count of it. Louis. When I am out of money I tell my father. BAD ADVICE. Ill Albert. Happy fellow ! Fran, (to Albert). Don’t listen to tliem ! (repeating Louis’ words) “When I want money I tell my father.” Bah! I suppose he comes clown handsomely. Bland. Louis is very reasonable in his requests. Fran, (pointing to Albert). When that boy came into the world I opened an account with him — Albert’s account. How much do you sup- pose he has cost me since his birth ? Bland. I am sure I don’t know. Fran. Twelve thousand francs, twenty centimes; and the postage on the letter in which I told him I would send him no money. Bland. I congratulate you. Louis has cost me at least twice that amount. Fran. T wen ty-four thousand francs ! It’s absurd. Bland. Ah ! I do not regret them. I have in return for them a noble son — a loving heart. Louis (moved). Ah ! yes — a son who loves and respects you as the best and kindest of fathers, (grasps his hand warmly.) Fran. Bah! — Which is my room ? Bland, (pointing l,). The one next my office — the same that you have always had. Fran. ( talcing his hag. To Albert). You will dine with me. We will pass the evening together. Albert (aside). Ah ! how annoying ! (aloud) I am sorry, but Fran. What ? Albert. That is— I have to give a lesson this evening, a very impor- tant one. Fran. Very well. I will dine with your uncle, and I will go to see you to-morrow, ’to have a look at your furniture. Now I have seen you, you are doing well. Be off\about your business, and be sure and have that mustache shaved oft*. Albert. Adieu, papa. Adieu, uncle — Louis, (aside to Louis) I say, there’s a nice papa for a fellow ! [. Exit , c. Fran, (aside, watching Albert as he goes out). There, that is a boy as is a boy ! (Exit, l. Bland. Poor boy, left to shift for himself. Louis. Yes, uncle brings up children at a reduced price ! Bland, (shaking his head). Well, he may be right, but I prefer my own method. Enter Aubertin and Laura, c. Aubertin. Good morning, Blandinet. (Louis and Laura cross to r.) Bland. Ah ! Aubertin ! Why, what is the matter with you? Aub. (in a low tone). Nothing. Send the children away ; I want to speak with you. Bland. With me? (to Louis) Take Laura to your mother. I think she has something to give her. Laura. For my raffle. To tell the truth, that is what I came for. Bland. Go, my children. [Louis and Laura exit , r. (To Aubertin) Now tell me what it is; you look completely upset. Aub. I should think I might. I have not closed my eyes for three nights. Bland. Is your wife sick? Aub. No, my friend ; but I have no news of the “Belle Irma,” now long overdue. Bland. What! the “Belle Irma”? Aub. A ship I have been expecting from America. Bland. Ah ! yes. I thought that "she BAB ADVICfi. 11 AtiB. She should have been at Havre two weeks ago, and she has not been signalled yet. Bland. She has been delayed. Aub. If it were only that. I received advices two months ago that she had successfully run the blockade. Relying upon the proceeds of her cargo, I assumed heavy obligations, and if by noon the day after to- morrow I do not raise a very important sum, I shall, perhaps, be obliged to suspend payment. Bland. Oh ! my poor friend ! And how much ?— how much do you need? Aub. A very large amount. Bland. Very large? Aub. I have tried everywhere, and I still lack 50,000 francs. Bland. Oh ! is that all? Why, my dear friend, you almost made me afraid Aub. Of what? Bland. I feared you needed more than I could lend you. Aub. What! you? Bland. Of course ! Aub. Oh ! no. I will not take it. Bland. Why? Aub. Because, if my ship should not arrive, I am not sure of being able to repay it. Bland. What would be the merit of my lending it, if you were sure you could return it? I might as well lend to the Bank of France. Aub. But Bland. Come, my friend Gustave, no foolish scruples. Aub. {smiling). Gustave! Bland. That is the name by which I used to call you, years ago, when we were schoolboys together. As one grows older he puts aside the fa- miliar name, for fear of appearing ridiculous. But when one is alone with an old friend, it is good to use the endearing term. Come, there is no one here, call me Edmond. It will give me real pleasure. Aub. {grasping his hand). Edmond ! Bland. Gustave ! Ah ! I feel as if I were a boy again. Aub. What a friend you are ! Bland. Don’t talk nonsense, Gustave. I will go and look at my bank account, and at noon day after to-morrow you shall have what you need. As to your cotton, it will come along all right. Don’t worry about that. [Exit, l. Aub. What a noble man ! Oh ! there is nothing like a friend in need. I will go back to the telegraph office — there may be news, perhaps. (goes up c.) Enter Louis, r. Louis. Are you going away, Monsieur Aubertin ? Aub. Yes; I have business to attend to. I will return for my daugh- ter. Louis {hesitating). I — I want to speak to you. Aub. To me? i will listen to you, my boy. Louis. What I have to say to you is very important. Aub. Well, go on— only be as brief as possible. Louis. I will detain you but a moment. Aub. Speak ! Louis. Monsieur Aubertin, I love your daughter Laura. Aub. Ah ! indeed ! You are brief. 12 BAD ADVICE. Louis. I believe that she loves me in return, and it is my dearest hope that siie may one day become my wife. Aub. My dear Louis, I will be as brief as you. You are a good, honest fellow. I like you. You resemble your father; and I shall be happy, very happy, to have you for a son-in-law. Louis. Oh! monsieur. Aub. But circumstances, which I cannot explain to you, do not per- mit me to give you a definite answer for a week. Louis. I will wait, Monsieur Auberbin. Aub. Wait and hope, as I do. Louis. Oh, yes, I will hope. Aub. (aside). By that time I shall be rich, or I shall be ruined, {aloud) Hope! Louis. How good you are ! Exit Aubertin, o. Louis goes up with him , and on turning sees Laura, who enters r., at work on hag . What! are you working on that bag? Laura. I must, since you prevented Madame Blandinet finishing it this morning, (sits near table , l.) Louis. Ah ! She told you of our conversation? Lau. Hand me the silk, please. Louts. There it is, mademoiselle. ( taking silk from basket on table.) Lau. I thought I should find my father here. Louis. He left me but a moment ago, but he will soon return. I had a little conversation with him. Lau. Ah! a conversation. Upon what subject? — But no, I must not ask you that. Louis {going to table). What a pretty bag! I am sorry I prevented its being finished {a pause) What a lovely day! {sits.) Lau. Charming! Louis. The sky is so clear ! Lau. Ah ! Monsieur Blandinet, you are trying to change the subject. Come, now, what did you say to my father? Louis. I was talking with him about a — a young lady. Lau. Ah ! a young lady. Louis (quickly). Whom you do not know — a lady I love, and whom I hope to marry. Lau. And what did my father say? Louts. He told me to hope. ( lie rises and approaches her.) Lau. ( joyfully , rising). Ah ! (changing her tone) Oh ! I forgot that I do not know her. (sits.) Louts (embarrassed). No — that is— perhaps you will some day. Lau. I hope so, I am sure. Louis ( after a pause). When does your raffle come off? Lau. Next week. Can’t I sell you a ticket? (taking package from her po 'feet. ) Louis. Of course. I shall be only too happy to have one. How much are they? Lau. Only a franc. Louis. I will take two. I hope I shall be lucky enough to draw some- thing. Lau. You would give it to the young lady, I suppose. Louis (absent-mindedly). What young lady? Lau. Why, the one you were talking to papa about. You did not tell me her name. BAD ADVICE. 13 Louis. Ah, yes ; I had forgotten. Lau. {laughing). Forgotten her name ! Well, upon my word, you are a gallant young man. Louis {annoyed). Oh ! I didn’t mean that, {aside) How ridiculous I must appear to her. Lau. Well, if you won’t tell me who she is, you might at least tell me something about her. Is she pretty ? Louis {enthusiastically). Lovely ! Lau. That is nice. Can’t you describe her to me? Louis {this description should be suited to the lady playing the part of Laura). I will try, but I can’t begin to do her justice. If you must know, she is about your age. She has fair hair, dark blue eyes, a com- plexion like the rose, teeth like pearls, and a ravishing smile. She is as good as she is beautiful, and one cannot know her without loving her. Lau. What a paragon she must be ! How I should like to know her. Louis {forgetting himself). You do ! Lau. What! Why, you said just now I didn’t. Louis {confused). Yes— I mean, you have seen her. Lau. I can’t think where. I have no recollection of meeting such a perfect being as you describe. Louis {aside). What a fool I am making of myself. Oh ! if I only had the courage to speak out. Lau. {aside). How confused he seems. It is too bad to tease him so. {aloud) Well, of course, if you don’t wish to give me any further infor- tion, Monsieur Blandinet, I have no right to ask it; but I would so like to know who she is. Louis {growing bolder). Would you, really? Lau. Of course I would. You know I feel a deep interest in you, we have been such old friends. Louis ( {pathetically). Friends ? Lau. (laughing). Why, of course— -friends. Louis {aside). I can stand this no longer, {aloud, after a pause , tak- ing her hand) Laura ! Lau. {aside). At last! Enter Francois, l. Louis {aside). Uncle Francois ! Why couldn’t he have waited? Fran, {to himself). Well, I am dressed at last, {seeing Louis and Laura) Oh ! oh ! — have I disturbed you? Louis. Not at all. Uncle, allow me to present to you Mademoiselle Laura Aubertin. Fran, {bowing). Mademoiselle, I have had business transactions with your father. He is a hard worker, and I see that you follow his exam- ple. You are right. I like people who work. Louis {aside). He intends that as a hit at me. Fran. That is a pretty thing you are making. What do you call it? Lau. It is a handkerchief bag. We are going to have a raffle, and this is one of the articles to be raffled. Won’t you buy some tickets? Fran, {aside). I put my foot in it this time. Lau. {taking tickets from her pocket). How many would you like? Louis. Come, uncle. Of course you will buy some. It is a deed of charity. Fran. What! I? I have often invested, but I never drew anything in my life, but once— a pair of slippers — and they were too small for me. Lau. You had better try once more. Perhaps I may bring you good luck. Fran. Well, give me five francs worth, {aside) When one has business 14 BAB ADVICE. with the father, it is best to keep on good terms with the family, (gives her money and takes tickets.) Enter Blandinet, l. He has a note-book and pencil in his hand , and appears to be calculating. Bland. Thirty-one thousand — and twenty-live shares Lyons Railway, forty thousand. — I shall have enough, (seeing Louis) Ah, Louis ! Louis. What is it, father? Bland. Put on your hat and run to Durandet’s, my broker. Tell him to sell twenty-five Lyons Railway, at best price. Louis. Yes, father. Bland. If you hurry you can get there before the Bourse closes. Louis. I will take a carriage, (to Laura) Excuse me, mademoiselle. [Exit, c. Laura remains at table and goes on with her work. Fran. What ! you are selling Lyons shares ? Do you think they are going down ? Bland. I? No; but I have need of fifty thousand francs. Fran. Ah! Bland. I have promised to lend them to a friend. Fran. What! Bland. An old companion. Fran. Is it possible? You are crazy ! Bland. Why? Fran. Fifty thousand francs ! Who is this friend?, Bland. Well, it is —(seeing Laura) No— I will not tell you his name. Fran. Some swindler, I’ll be bound. Bland. Come, Francois, I will not allow you to say that. I told you he was my friend. Fran. He gives you security at least? Bland. I tell you he is a friend. Fran. Bah! You exasperate me with your friend. Bland. If you knew his situation Fran. I don’t need to know it — I can see through the whole tiling. He told you some harrowing story, arid you believed it — you swallowed it as a fish swallows a hook. You are a fool ! Bland. Francois! Fran. Yes, a fool ! You believe everything. You let your feelings be worked upon, and allow yourself to be plundered by a lot of beggars. Bland. I do not allow myself to be plundered by any one. When it is necessary I can be as firm as you. Only this morning I was severe to one of my tenants. Fran. Yes, as you used to be severe to the workmen when we were in business together. Bland. Well, but, it seems to me Fran. I placed the younger ones under your supervision, as they were the easiest to look after Bland. Well, what would you have? It made me heartsick to see those poor little youngsters working ten hours a day tending bobbins. Fran. And so you said to them, “Rest, my children ; don’t work so hard — health before everything. You mustn’t ruin that.” Bland. It is possible. Fran. And what was the result ! A clear loss to us of two hundred francs a day. Bland. You exaggerate. Fran. And I was obliged to send you to Paris— you and your tender heart. Sad advice. IS Bland, (sighing). The workmen were sorry to have me gd. Fran. And when you returned to Paris, you suddenly took offence and withdrew from the firm. Bland. Not at all. I dip. not take offence, but I reflected ; I thought the matter over, and I decided that 1 could not continue to grow rich at the expense of others’ sufferings. Fran. Ah ! very pretty. You use fine words now, as all men do after they have retired from business. Well, I continue to grow rich alone, and instead of having to economize on a miserable income of twenty- five thousand francs Bland. But I find it enough. Each one, Francois, to his own taste. My heart is perhaps a tender one, but I thank God that it is open to the complaints of my fellow-men. I cannot dine with pleasure when I know that those about me are hungry. Fran. Bali ! Is any one hungry? Who is hungry? Bland. Those who have nothing to eat. Only yesterday — no longer ago than yesterday— I met a miserable being iu the street, who had eaten nothing for five days. Fran. He told you so ? Bland. He told me so— or rather, he reluctantly confessed Fran. And you gave him money ? Bland. Of course. Fran. Well, you were imposed upon. In the first place, 'one can’t live five days without eating. Bland. How do you know ? Have you ever tried it ? Fran. No. Bland. Well, try it. Fran. If you had bought him a loaf of bread you would have seen how hungry he was. Bland. What do you mean? Fran. He would have told you to go to the devil. Ah! I am up to all their dodges. I know all about them. You can’t fool me. Bland. Well, Francois, when a man makes an assertion like that, there is nothing more to be said. When a friend, a lifelong friend, comes to confide to you his embarrassments and his troubles, instead of extend- ing a hand and saving him, the reply is “You can’t fool me.” An un- fortunate being accosts you in the street — 1 ‘Away with you ; you can’t fool me.” One has an only child, a son; he throws him without re- sources upon the streets of Paris, and when the poor fellow, humiliated and perhaps ashamed — obeying his childish instincts — turns to his father, he is written, “Oh, I know all about it ; you can’t fool me,” and is charged for the postage of the letter in his account. Oh, Francois, it is villainous ! it is cruel ! and you will make me believe, if you keep on, that you are a Fran. A what? Speak out. Bland. No, I will not say it, for it would give you pain. Fran. Have you finished ? Bland. Yes. Fran. Well, then let’s go to Bre'bant’s and have a dinner ; I will see your wife and tell her that I am going to carry you off. Bland. I should like to go to Bre'bant’s, for they have good dinners there, but Fran. Oh ! we won’t enter into another discussion. For me the world is divided into two classes, those who are taken in, and those who are not. You and I don’t belong to the same class, that is all. Bland. You flatter me. Fran. But I stick to all that I have said. With your fine words and l(j BAB ADVICE. your sensitive nature, you will never be anything but an old fool. [Exit, r. Bland ( reflecting ). A fool ! — an old fool ! Lau. ( rising and going to him). And I tell j t ou that you are, and al- ways will be, a noble man ! ( taking his hand) Oh ! how I love you! Bland. What, my dear — you heard ? Lau. Yes. Oh ! Monsieur Blandinet, continue to believe in good — continue to do it. Be on the side of those who are wretched, and in trouble, and in want. It is the best, whatever one may say. Bland. Of course it is, my dear. Lau. What do you care whether they are grateful or not? A kind act is not done for the sake of a return ; but it is a good investment, never- theless. Bland. To be sure, (aside) I am sorry that Francois is not here to hear her. Lau. Look at me. I feed all the little birds in my neighborhood. Bland. Really? Lau. Yes. Every morning I scatter crumbs upon the balcony. In* winter I brush away the snow, so that their little feet may not be cold. In summer I place branches to protect them from the sun. Well, do you think they are grateful to me? Not at all. As soon as I open my window the ingrates fly away ; some of them even peck at me with their beaks. Bland. Ah ! Lau. But I do not ask for gratitude. They do not owe it to me. They are God’s creatures who are hungry, and I am only too happy to give them food. You have your little birds. Every one has his Bland. Oh ! my little angel, come to my arms ! (embraces her and wipes his eyes. ) Enter Francois, r. Fran, (aside). There, he is weeping now! (aloud) Ahem ! Lau. ( seeing him). Oh ! Adieu, M. Blandinet. Don’t give up the little birds ; care for them— provide for them. [Exit, r. Fran. Come, now, let’s go' to dinner. Ah, by the way, here is a letter your wife asked me to give you. Bland. A letter ! (opening it) Ah ! Great Heaven ! The poor crea- tures ! Fran. What is it? Bland. Ah ! you say that no one dies of hunger. Listen, (reading) “I address myself to you, knowing your kind heart ” Fran, (aside). A trick. Bland, (reading). “I am without work ” Fran, (aside). A lazy beggar. Bland, (reading). “ My father is blind, my mother paralyzed. I have three infants in the cradle, who ask me for bread ” Fran, (sarcastically). In the cradle? They speak early, these young- sters. Bland, (reading). “ Will you leave us in misery, you who are so kind and generous? Simonet. 15 Maury street, seventh story, the ladder on the right.” (greatly moved) They have to climb up to their roofn by a ladder. Fran. ( ironically ). It is rather bad for the blind father. Bland, (in good faith). And the paralyzed mother. ( reading ) “Post- script. Leave the answer with the concierge.” (taking out his purse) Poor people ! Fran. What! you swallow that tale? BAD ADVICB. 17 Bland. Oli ! one does not invent such a story. A blind father— a ladder — a paralyzed mother. Besides, they are my little birds. Every one has his Fran. What nonsense are you talking ? Bland. It is true ; she said so. You were not here. Do you think that forty francs- Fran. Don’t be absurd. I tell you what, I will make you a bet Bland. A bet? Fran. That there is not one word of truth in that letter. Bland. What ! Well, so be it. I should like to convince you at least once. What shall we bet? Fran. Our dinner at Brebant’s. But first we will go and eat it. Bland. Oh ! no. I could not dine with this letter in my pocket. We will go first and see these poor people.' Fran. Very well ; come along. But you will have to pay. A ladder on the seventh story! That seems to me rather suspicious. Bland, (aside). Cold-hearted man ! He does not even believe in the ladder. [They go out c. as curtain falls. curtain. ACT II. SCENE. — Same as Act 1 . Joseph and Prudence discovered. Prudence (dusting). It is very strange, all the same, that master is not up yet. Joseph. Neither is his brother. It seems that they dined out together yesterday, and did not come home until late. Enter Henrietta, l., in walking costume. Henrietta, What! eleven o’clock, and your work not yet finished? Prud. It is all done, madarne. Jos. We were afraid of waking master. Hen. Is he still asleep ? Can he be sick ? Jos. Oh ! no, madarne ; but he came in late, and walked up and down his room part of the night. Hen. He must have taken coffee — that always keeps him awake. Say to him that I have gone out, I have an engagement at my dress- maker’s. Jos. Yes, madarne. [Exit r. , followed by Prudence. Hen. I must hasten or I shall be late. Albert (outside). Very well, I will wait for him. Enter Albert, c. Hen. {turning). What! You here? Albert. Ah ! my aunt! I need not ask you how you are; you look as fresh as a rose. (Henrietta bows coldly and exit c.) She is still an- gry. A pretty woman, but cold and distant. Enter Louis, l., with his hat on. 18 BAD ADVICB. Louis. Ah ! Albert, you here ? Albert. Good morning, Louis. I am waiting for papa. Louis. He is not up yet. Albert. I know it. He and your father dined together yesterday, and I guess the old fellows made a night of it! Well, I am in no hurry to meet him. I am not in the best of spirits this morning. Louis. You are in trouble? Albert. Well, yes — no ; but I am in debt. I owe twelve thousand francs. Louis. You ! in debt? Albert. Hang it ! for two years papa has cut off my allowance, so I had to borrow, and now my creditors are pressing me. Louis. What ! they are threatening you? Albert. That is the fact. I don’t know how the rascals learned that papa was in Paris, but they have somehow, and they are profiting by the circumstance. Louis. Wiiat are you going to do? Albert. I am sure I don’t know. What would you advise? Louis. There is but one course open to you — that is to confess all to your father. Albert. No, that would never do. You must think of something else. Louis. If I were in your place, that is what I should do. Albert. Yes ; but your father and mine are very different persons. Your father is a kind man ; he would sympathize with you ; but mine — Oli ! that is a quite another thing. Louis. No, you are wrong, Albert. Uncle Francois is a little harsh, but he is an excellent man. In the depths of his heart he loves you. Albert. Yes, pretty well down in the depths, I should say. Louis. Besides, there is no other course. Albert. It is true. If I could only find a way. — Tell me, will you break it to him? Louis. Oh ! no. You had better go straight to him yourself. It is the wisest thing to do. Besides, I am going out. Francois {outside). Joseph, bring me some hot water 1 Albert. It is he ! Louis. Well, I must leave you. Good luck to you. [Exit, r. Enter Francois, l., in dressing-gown. Fran, {calling). Joseph ! some hot water, {seeing Albert) Hello ! you, Albert? What are you doing here? Albert. I rose early, and I said to myself, I will go and see papa. Fran. And that is what you came for? Albert. Yes, papa. Fran. Albert, I am very much obliged to you, but I hate to have you lose your time for such a foolish errand. Hello! you haven’t shaved off that mustache yet. Albert {aside). Well, he is in an amiable mood, {aloud) I forgot to say that I have a pupil in this neighborhood. Fran. Ah ! if you came on business, that i-s different. Embrace me. {they embrace) I had a charming time last evening. I taught your uncle a lesson he won’t forget in a hurry, {abruptly) Who is this pupil you are going to see? Albert. Oh ! he is a pupil— {aside, struck 'with a sudden idea) Oh ! If I only could — I’ll try — {aloud) or rather it is a client, who begged me to come for a consultation. J3AB ADVICE. 19 Fran. Did he pay you ? Albert. Of course. It is an important case. Fsan. How much ? Albert. Twenty-five francs. Fran. That is not bad. Albert. The case is this: My client, a young man of excellent family, a first-rate fellow, who loves his father well — oh ! he loves his father tenderly — has had the misfortune to get into debt. Fran. Into debt ! Albert. Oh ! not much — twelve thousand fraucs. Fran. In debt twelve thousand francs ! ( vehemently ) Tell your client lor me that he is a scamp. Albert. His excuse is Fran. Excuse ! There is no excuse. A young man who has a father, who belongs to a respectable family, and who gets into debt, can he nothing but a scoundrel. Albert. But Fran, {angrily). Come now, isn’t that your opinion? Give me a plain answer, yes or no. Albert {hesitating). Yes — he is a scoundrel! Fran. Ah ! Albert {aside). Decidedly I had better not say anything to him to- day. Fran. If you had done such a thing Albert. Well? Fran. But I am easy on that point. You are doing well — you work hard — you save money. Albert. Save ? Oh ! very little. Fran. Why, you have bought a watch and chain, and you have furn- ished your room. By the way, I will go and see your furniture to-day. Albert. At what hour? Fran. I will breakfast with you, my boy. Albert. Ah ! Will you ? Fran. Yes ; but don’t get up anything elaborate. Albert. Have no fear, {aside) He likes a good breakfast, and I will give him one. After eating it he may feel better disposed. Fran. I will shave, and in just half an hour I will be at your room. Albert. Au revoir, papa. * [Exit, c. Enter Joseph, r., with a pitcher of hot water. Fran. Good boy ! I love him well : but I do not tell him so ; it is not best to be too demonstrative. Ah, Joseph ! Jos. Here is the hot water, monsieur. Fran. I breakfast with my son — you will tell Madame Blandinet. Jos. Very well, monsieur. [Exit Joseph and Francois, l., Joseph carrying water . Enter Blandinet, r. Bland. I am sick at heart. I have passed a most miserable night — I could not sleep. I went to 15 Maury street ; a wretched street, "and a wretched house. I was deeply moved. I said sadly to the concierge, “ Where shall I find the unfortunate Simonet? ” He replied, “ The fifth story, the door to the left.” I wns somewhat astonished, as the letter said seventh story, ladder to the right. But what did that matter? We went up. I noiselessly turned the handle of the door ; we entered, and we 20 BAD ADVIC32. found— who? My old coachman, Williams, the man my ^^--■(correct- ing himself) the man that I turned out of my employ. He was estab- lished there with an English groom and six empty bottles— not a sign of a blind father, no paralyzed mother. I confess I was amazed. My brother Francois triumphed ; he exulted over me. But what did that all prove? Simply that I had been deceived by a rascal. There are some birds that peck at you with their beaks, but that is no reason lor abandoning the others. Enter Francois, l., dressed for a walk . Fran. Ah ! ah ! Mr. Philanthropist. Bland. Ah ! Francois. Fran, {laughing). Seventh story — ladder to the right ! Bland. Leave me in peace, I beg. I paid for the dinner, and you ought to be satisfied. Fran. Iam; it was a good one. Bland. I should say so. It cost fifty-seven francs ; here is the bill, (i takes it from his 'pocket ) Potage a la reine , two francs ; shrimps, three francs. Fran. Shrimps? I didn’t have any shrimps. Bland. What! I am sure I did not. Fran. Oh ! those restaurant keepers are sharp fellows. Bland. But you don’t suppose— Ah ! there was a gentleman next to us who ate them. It was an error, that is all. Fran. It is possible ; but if I were you I would verify the account be- fore paying it. ( pointing to a bowl of sugar and a decanter of brandy on the sideboard) And further, I would lock up my sugar and brandy; such things evaporate easily. Bland. Bless me! he suspects Joseph now, an honest fellow who has been with me ten years. Fran. My brother, I belong to a class which is not to be duped. Au re voir. I breakfast with my son. [Exit, c. ' Bland, (alone). Joseph, a reliable fellow, whom I would trust as I would myself, {mechanically approaches the sugar-bowl and counts the pieces) Four, six, seven, eight, and a little one. I will eat the little one. ( 'puts it in his mouth) That leaves just eight pieces. Now the brandy. {taking the decanter) Not that I am suspicious — oh no; it is to confound my brother. How shall I mark it? Oh! with my handkerchief, (meas- uring) Truly, I am ashamed of myself. I comes just to there ; I will make a knot, (he makes a knot in the handkerchief.) Enter Mizabran, c., with a pair of boots . Bland. What ! Mizabran ! What do you want? Miz. I bring your boots, monsieur. Bland. Hush ! If my wife shonld hear you. Enter Joseph, l. Jos. Madame went out an hour ago. She has gone to her dress- maker’s. [Crosses to sideboard , takes a dish , and exit , c. Bland, (taking one of the boots). Well, Mizabran, are they good ones? Miz. Oh ! monsieur, examine them. Everything in them is of the very best quality. Bland, (aside). What a good, honest face he has; it is a pleasure to look at him. Miz. It is calfskin, the very best calfskin. Bland. Yes, they look well, (seeing a second bootmaker who is shown BAD ADVICE. 21 in by Joseph, o., with a pair of shoes in his hand) Another bootmaker ! This seems to be bootmakers’ day. Jos. {to second bootmaker). Monsieur Louis will return shortly ; you had better wait. ( second bootmaker puts shoes on a chair.) [ Exit Joseph, c. Bland. Ah ! my son’s bootmaker. He too has a good face. ( taking up shoes) Ah ! these are handsome shoes. Bootmaker {with a German accent). I beg you to examine the quality, monsieur; it is calfskin, the very best calfskin. ( pointing to the boot made by Mizabran, which Blandinet still holds in his hand) That boot you have is cowhide. Bland. ( astonished ). What ! my boots Bootmaker. You have only to compare them. Bland. Allow me. ( takes shoes from bootmaker and shows them to Mizabran) Mizabran, wliat sort of leather is that? Miz. That is cowhide. ( pointing to those he brought) That is calfskin. Bland. Ah ! thank you. {aside) One of the two is a liar — perhaps they both are. {aloud) Very well, gentlemen, you can go. {to Mizabran, who is carrying off one of the boots) Look here, give me the other. Miz. Oh ! I beg your pardon. [ Exit with bootmaker , c. Bland, {comes down with a boot in one hand and the pair of shoes in the other). Everything is against me to-day. To be sure this amounts to nothing, and yet it annoys me. Must I renounce my faith in boot- makers? I have already lost it in restaurant keepers, {puts boots down on chair l. ) Where can my wife be ? why does she not return ? {looking at his icatch — suspiciously) Two hours at the dressmaker’s! It is very strange. Ah ! I fear that I am of too confiding a nature. I let Henri- etta go and come — go out and return when she pleases — a woman younger than I am — very much younger — and pretty, and a coquette. I suppose she must be, though I have never observed it. But she buys diamonds and laces — to please whom?. Come, what a fool I am ! Here I am suspecting my wife now. It is that brute of a Francois who has put all these ideas into my head. Enter Louis, c. Louis. I have just been to .vour broker’s, and here is the money for twenty-five shares of Lyons Railway Company, {hands him a package of bills.) * Bland. Thank you. {puts bills in coat pocket and mechanically but- tons up coat as he stands reflecting) My son, I want to speak to you. Louis. And I want to speak to you, father. Bland, {going and taking up one of the shoes and returning to his son). Let me speak first. Louis, you are not aware of one thing : your bootmaker is a cheat, and so is mine. These fellows give us cow- hide — Louis ( indifferently ). Really ! Bland. I am sure of it. You accept everything they snv as truth; it is a fault. With such people we must be suspicious. It is just the' same with restaurant keepers ; they charge you for shrimps — do you under- stand? — shrimps that you have not eaten. Louis. What are you talking about, father? Bland. I warn you — you are young — you can acquire the habit of sus- pecting ; but I— Well, my boy, what do you want to say to me? {hands him the shoes and sits down near table.) Louis ( places shoes on chair and sits on other side of table). I want to talk to you on a subject of which I have already spoken to my mother. 22 BAD ADVICE. Bland. To your mother ! ( aside , looking at his watch) Two hours and a half at her dressmaker’s ! it is very strange. Louis. I love Laura Aubertin ! Bland. Laura ! She is charming — she feeds the little birds. Louis. I hope to make her my wife. Bland. Weil, my boy, if you love her Louis. Yesterday I spoke to her father, and he told me to hope. Bland. What! her father! It is impossible. Louis. What? Bland. In his position Louis. But it seems to me that his position Bland. He! He is ruined! (rises.) Louis. What! Bland. I know what I am talking about. I was to lend him fifty thousand francs to-morrow. Louis. Perhaps it is only a temporary embarrassment. Bland. Of course. I do not suspect Aubertin ; he is a friend ; but you have good expectations, and one might believe — I am sure Francois would — that M. Aubertin was speculating upon your love for his daugh- ter. Louis ( indignantly ). Oh! father! Bland. It is not I who say such things — it is Francois. The daughter is pretty, and he might use her as a bait. Louis. What ! is it my father who speaks thus? — my good, kind father. Bland. My son, I know what men are— since last night. Louis. Can you speak so of an old friend ? Bland. It is not I— it is Francois. Louis. Really, father, you pain me deeply. Bland. But I tell you it is not I — it is Francois. Louis. To use such expressions about a family which from my child- hood you have taught me to love and respect Bland. But I tell you once more Louis ( going out l.). Ah ! father, I no longer recognize you. [Exit, l. Bland. Ah ! Well, yes, the boy is right; but it is not my fault. The bootmakers, the shrimps — and my wife not yet returned. ( looking at his watch) Three hours at the dressmaker’s ! It is highly improbable; there is something behind it all. ( calling ) Joseph ! Joseph ! my hat. Jos. ( entering c. ). Why, there it is on the table, monsieur. Bland. What! Ah ! so it is. I am going out. {aside) There is some- thing wrong about this visit to her dressmaker’s. [Exit, c. A hell rings. Jos. There is madame ringing. I forgot to tell master that she re- turned two hours ago. [Exit, l. Enter Francois and Albert, c. Fran. ( leaning on Albert’s arm , they are both a little animated). Ah ! that' is what I call a first-rate breakfast. Oysters, cutlets, cham- pagne. You entertained your father royally, my boy. Embrace me. Albert. What! {aside, after embracing him) I think he took a little too much champagne. Fran. You have given me a breakfast — I should propose that you come and dine with me ; but I am not hungry. Albert. No more am I— I am thirsty. Fran. Ah ! Albert, you think that I do not love you, because I am hard to you— because I do not send you money ; but it is for your good. It gives me pain to do it, and if I listened to the dictates of my heart BAD ADVICE. 23 Albert. Oh ! listen, papa. Fran, {with tenderness). No ; you must fight your own battles; you must know what it is to struggle aid suffer. You see, all men — listen to me— all men who have become remarkable, have had to undergo privations and hardships. Albert. Oil ! but, papa Fran. When you have become celebrated— when you are rich— I will refuse you nothing. Albert. You are very kind. Fran. Ah ! Albert, you think that I do not love you ; but jxm are my sole hope and joy, and if I still work and consume my life in making cloth it is Albert. It is to beat the English. Fran. It is for you— and to beat the English, {with effusion) Come, embrace me. Albert. With pleasure, papa, {they embrace. Aside) I think this is a good time to confess the twelve thousand francs, {aloud) Papa, it costs me Fran, {inter rapting). I examined your furniture; it is very pretty, but you have too many looking-glasses. Albert. I have only three. Fran. That is too many. Albert. I bought them at auction. They went so cheap I could not refrain from buying them. Fran, {looking at him without listening'). Ah ! he is a fine fellow, my Albert! How handsome he is! {to him) Look here! I have given you nothing for two years. I am going to make you a present, my boy. Albert {stupefied). A present? Me? Fran. I am going to give you my diamond pin. {detaching it from his shirt.) Albert. Oh ! papa. Fran, {pinning it on Albert’s shirt). Do not lose it. It cost me twelve hundred francs. Think that I have worn it thirty years, and should never console myself if it were to be lost, {suddenly) Give it back to me. Albert {jumping back). Oh ! no. Fran. Don’t jump like that ; a slight movement would do just as well. {aside) I was wrong to give it to him— he is too young. Albert {aside). I must tell him. {aloud) Papa — my good papa^ — ~ Fran, {putting his hand to his head). Oh ! how my head does ache ! Albert. That will soon pass away. I want to speak to you- about that unfortunate young man, my client, who is in debt twelve thousand francs. Fran. He is a scoundrel! and if I was his father I would send him to— to Africa. Albert {aside). Pleasant for me ! Fran. Good heavens ! how my head aches. I must go and lie down a little while. Albert. But. papa Fran. We will go to Lemblin’s at six. Adieu. Take good care of your pin. {aside) I did wrong to let him have it. I will make him give it back, {aloud) Lemblin’s at six. [Exit, l. Albert. It’s of no use. I wanted to tell him at breakfast, but he was not sufficiently softened. There is a warrant of arrest out for me. If I only could — ( stopping ) How thirsty I am. {sees sugar and decanter on sideboai'd) Ah ! I will mix myself a drink, {goes to sideboard , pours out brandy and puts in sugar) Let me see— I have an idea. ( drinks ) It’s 24 BAD ADVICE. a desperate one, but it may work. I will write to the officer, {calls) Joseph! Enter Joseph, l. Jos. Did you call, monsieur ? Albert. Bring me a pen and some ink. Jos. You will find everything on that table, {seeing tumbler in Al- bert’s hand , aside) Well, he makes himself at home here. [ Exit , l. Albert {sitting at table writing). “ Sir — The law must take its course. Papa is in Paris; arrest me when I am with him. We shall go to Lein- blin’s at six o’clock.” There! {finishes drink) In that way papa will know all ; I sha’n’t have to say anything to him, and he will pay. {re- flecting) Will he pay? Suppose he should let me go to prison, I should want a little money for trifling expenses, {emptying his pockets) Eleven francs. Ah! what a fool I am. Uncle Blandinet! I will borrow twenty louis of him. Now to send my letter. [ Exit , R. Enter Henrietta, l. Hen. How piovoking ! I must have left my muff at the dressmaker’s. {calls) Prudence! Enter Blandinet, c., very pale and agitated , carrying a muff. Bland. At last you are here, madame? Hen. Ah ! What is the matter with you, my dear? Bland. I went to your dressmaker’s, madame, and they told me that you left there two hours ago ! Hen. {astonished). Certainly. Bland. What have you been doing for two hours? Hen. Why, I returned Bland. Where ? {aside) She seems confused. Hen. Here. Bland. I did not see you. Hen. I was in my chamber. I was mending your cravats. Bland. Ah ! Don’t talk to me, madame. Hen. Madame! What do you mean? You must have lost your senses. Bland. Take your muff — your accomplice ! Hen. What? (takes muff and puts it on chair with boots.) Bland. Oh ! I see clearly now ; those frequent and prolonged goings out — those visits to your dressmaker. Oh ! you can’t fool me. Hen. What are you talking about? Bland. Madame, you are deceiving me. {louder) I tell you, you are deceiving me ! Hen. Why, my dear, are you mad? Bland. Oh! I am all right. I know what I am talking about. You are young, you are pretty, you are a coquette. Hen. {laughing). A coquette! Well, I never expected to be called that. Bland. I say you are ! All women are ! Do you suppose I am fool enough to believe that, during the six years we have been married, no one has ever expressed admiration for you? Hen. It is the truth, nevertheless. Bland. Will you swear it? Hen. {evasively). Why Bland. Ah ! you hesitate. Hesitation is confession. His letters, madame ! I demand his letters ! BAD ADVICE. 25 Hen. Letters ! He never wrote an} 7 . Bland. All! He! There is a he. I was sure of it. Hen. {aside). What an unfortunate slip of the tongue. Bland, {furious). His name, inadame, the wretch’s name! Hen. The name of the gentleman who admired me? You wish to know it? Bland. Yes. Hen. Well, it was your nephew, Albert. Bland. Wiiat! Albert? Enter Albert, r. Albert {entering). Ah ! there he is. Hen. He here! I had better go. [Exit, hastily , l. Albert. Good morning, uncle, {aside) He looks good natured. {al.rtid) Uncle, I wish to ask a favor of you. Bland, {dryly). Well, sir? Albert. I want to know if you will lend me twenty five louis? Bland. You scoundrel ! you dare to ask me for money'? Albert {amazed). tJncle! Bland. ( sarcastically ). So, you admire your aunt. You think her beautiful ? Albert ( perplexed ). What ! Bland. Don’t al tempt to deny it. Your aunt herself told me that you expressed an admiration for her. Albert. Of coure I admire her. Bland: What! you confess it? Albert. Every one admires her. Bland. Every one / {aside) I shall go mad. Albert. But she never seemed to like me. I don’t know why. She always treats me coldly. Bland. Enough, sir. I have lost all faith in you. Albert. Then you won’t let me have the money, uncle? Bland. No— a, thousand times, no! Albert. Ah ! you are no longer Uncle Blandinet ; you are just like papa. Adieu. Bland. Where are you going? Albert. To Lemblin’s with papa, {aside) The die is cast! [Exit, c. Enter Henrietta, l. Hen. Well, my dear, you saw Albert? Bland, {coldly). Yes, madaine, I had a talk with him. Hen. Madame!" Gome, now, aren’t you ashamed of your absurd jealousy? Why, you almost made me laugh in your face, you flew off* into such a towering passion, and ail for nothing. Bland. Ah ! you may call it nothing, but I consider it a very serious thing for a nephew to admire his aunt. Hen. What is the matter with you to-day? You are so changed that I hardly recognize you. Bland. Oh ! I am getting my eyes opened, madame. Enter Francois, c. Fran, {violently). Oh! the scamp! the rascal! the scoundrel ! Bland. What is it? Fran. Albert! They have arrested him, on my very arm, as we were walking along just after leaving the house, and they have taken him to prison. 26 BAD ADVICE. Bland. What ! was lie in debt? Kuan. Twelve thousand — twelve thousand francs! Bland. Why, that makes him cost you twenty-four thousand francs— the same as my boy. Well, Albert’s account is increasing — it is round- ing our. Fran. It's all the same to me ; I will not pay it. He shall remain in pris m all his life ! Bland. Until to-morrow morning. Fran, {furious). Oh ! I would like to have him here under my very thumb, {suddenly) I will go and get him. (goes up c.) Bland. There’s no use in your going. Hen. ( crosses l., aside). Poor fellow ! [ Exit , l. Bland. They won’t let you in so late. The prison is closed. Fran. Do you think so? Then give me a glass of water, (comes down and sits r.) Bland. I will get you one. {goes to sideboard.) Fran. Since I cannot see him I will write to him. I will spend the night in composing a letter; that will solace me. Bland. ( looking at sugar). Ah ! Fran. What is it? Bland. Five pieces ! three are missing ! Fran. I told you so. Bland, (seizing decanter and looking at it). It is lower, (takes hand- kerchief and measures) He has taken nearly a third. Fran. Well, are you convinced now? That proves that in this world it is well to keep your eyes open and your doors locked. I will go to my room ; never mind the water. Oh ! the scoundrel! [ Goes out , l. Bland, (alone). It is not possible ! I am deceived, (counts pieces of sugar again) Two, four, five. Oh ! Jos< ph ! Why, I never refused him sugar. I believe Francois is right. I am one of the class that are taken in. I will get into the other class as soon as possible ; and to commence I will lock things up. (puts things into cupboard and locks it) It seems that the world is filled with rascals — restaurant keepers, bootmakers, nephews, servants, and— friends! That Aubertin — Gustave! what a villainous name, (takes up muff ; boots and shoes) Not content with bor- rowing fifty thousand francs from me, he seeks to inveigle my son into a marriage with his daughter ; but I am on the alert— my eyes are open. Ah ! I see clearly to-day. (going toward L.) Yes— but 1 was much hap- pier yesterday. [ Goes out slowly, l. curtain. ACT III. SCENE.— Blandinet’s office. Door in flat c. ; doors r. and L. ; table c. ; desk r. ; bookcase l. ; chairs , etc. Henrietta and Joseph discovered. Hen. (to Joseph, who has a pair of scales in h is hand). Why, what uro you going to do with those scales'? Jos. I don’t know, mu-dame. Monsieur Blandinet told me to buy them, (places scales on desk,) iBAD ADVICE. 27 Enter Prudence, r. Prud. Madame, master wants all the accounts for the year. Hen. {aside). Another idea now. This morning before daybreak he woke 'me up to ask for my expense book, {to Prudence) What is your master doing? Prud. He is in his room, looking over your book. lie asked for mine. What does it mean, madame? IIen. {aside). Really 1 begin to think he is losing his mind. Enter Blandinet, r., with account book in his hand. Bland, {calling). Joseph ! Jos. Here are the scales, monsieur. Bland, {taking them). All! very well. Are they correct? Jos. I just got them of the hardware dealer. Bland. That is ho proof that they are right. The hardware dealer — he is an enemy, {to Joseph) Take them, and when the tradesmen come you will weigh them. Jos. {astonished). What! Weigh the tradesmen ? Bland. No, the goods ; or rather, you will call me; I wish to be there. Jos. Very well, monsieur, {aside to Prudence) What is the matter with him? [ Exeunt Joseph and Prudence, r. Hen. Why are you so distrustful? Why these suspicions? Bland. All ! I am getting my eyes opened. I have been positively blind. The world is peopled with knaves and rascals; I am determined not to be duped by them. Hen. And so you are going to make yourself wretched? Bland. Wretched? Not at all. Quite the contrary, I assure you. I am very happy. I feel a real pleasure in searching out all the little de- ceptions of my fellow-men. I am studying the habits of noxious ani- mals. Hen. Can you speak thus of people who love and esteem you, who open their doors to you? Bland. The spider also opens his parlors to the little flies who pass. Hen. Oh ! what a comparison. Bland. You see, I shall be very happy — yes, very happy— if any one came to me to ask a favor Hen. All! now you are like your old self. Bland. I should refuse him, harshly. Hen. What! Bland. Ah! I begin now to comprehend what a satisfaction there is in disobliging one's friends. Hen. {laughing). Why, you are positively ferocious. Bland. Not at all; I am becoming civilized. There — there is your expense book, {hands it to her) All ! did you know that my hatter is a robber? Hen. {places book on table). Indeed! Bland. I have positive proof of it. He has charged me for four hats this year, and I have only had two: and he a father of a family ! They are a, 11 alike. Hen. Two of the hats were for you, and two for Louis. Bland. Ah! are you sure? Hen. Perfectly. Bland, {vexed). That is different. There is nothing to say then. {aside) I will catch him another time. 28 BAD ADVICE. Enter Prudence, r. Prud. Madame. I cannot find the key of the cupboard. Bland. (_ fumbling in his pocket). There it is. Bring it back to me immediately. Enter Joseph, r. Jos, I can’t think what has become of the key to the pantry. Bland. ( searching in other pocket). There it is. Bring it back to me at once. Tell my son to come to me. [Exeunt Prudence and Joseph, r. TIen. Ah ! have you all the keys in the house in your pocket? Bland. If the sugar-bowl could speak it would say that the best place for a key is in its master’s pocket. Enter Louis, r. Louis. Did you want me, father? Bland. Yes; I want an explanation from you. This morning, on looking over your mother’s book, I read — ( taking book) “May 16th, Louis, sundry expenses, 100 francs.” What was that for? Louis. Why, for the life of me I can’t remember, it was so long ago. It is now October. Bland. Yes. {looking at book) I further found— “June 19th, Louis, sundry expenses, 150 francs.” You have a good many sundry expenses. Louis. But, father Bland. I do not suspect you ; still, I should like to know what be- came of the money. Hereafter I will allow you 100 francs a month. Louis. Oh ! Bland, {quickly). If that is not sufficient, you can ask me for more. Louis. It will be sufficient, father. Enter Joseph, r. Jos. The butcher is here, monsieur. Bland. Very well, I will come, {rubbing his hands) Ah ! now I will catch him. [Exit with Joseph, r. Louis. What does this mean? Hen. I cannot understand it. I no longer recognize your father. He must be ill. Enter Francois and Albert, c. Fran. Enter, scoundrel, and lower your eyes ! Hen and Louis. What is if? Fran. I present you a young man who has just come out of prison. Albert. But Fran, {angrily). Lower your eyes ! Albert {aside). It is all right— he lias paid. Fran, {to Henrietta). Just think Hen. Excuse me; some one is waiting for me. [Exit, l. Fran. Now that we are no longer in the street — now that I do not fear attracting a crowd — now ( threateningly ) I will talk to you. Louis. Uncle ! - Fran. Leave us ! (Louis starts to go out l. Albert detains him.) Albert. Louis Fran, {authoritatively). Come, leave us ! [Exit Louis, l. Fran. Come here ! Approach, you scamp ! You have credit, it seems. You find fools willing to accept your signature. BAD ADVICE. 20 Albert. Papa, I absolutely needed two thousand francs. Fran. What for? To waste in riotous living? Albert. Not at all. Fran. Well, tell your story, and then I will judge. Albert. I was recommended to a furniture dealer— a good worthy man— who offered to lend me the money without interest. Fran. ( amazed ). Ah ! that was not bad. Albert. Wait! He imposed one condition — that I should buy three looking-glasses which he wanted to get rid of. Fran. That was right — it was business. Albert. This good man made me sign a note for four thousand fanes. Fran. You told me two thousand. Albert. Yes; but the looking-glasses. Fran. Two thousand francs— three looking-glasses ? Albert. Looking glasses are very expensive in Paris, especially when one doesn’t want them. Fran. Well? Albert. The note came due— I could not pay. Fran. You should have written to me. Albert. That is just what I did. You replied, “Oh! I know all about it. You can’t fool me! You’ll get nothing more out of me.” Fran. ( after a moment of a pparent emotion). A\\ ! Well? Albert. The furniture dealer was becoming troublesome, when I made the acquaintance of a dealer in shawls, a very straightforward man. He offered to lend me the four thousand francs wdthout interest Fran. What ! Albert. Only he made me understand that he would be pleased to sell me a shawl. What could I do? I consented. I signed a note for eight thousand francs. Fran. Unhappy boy ! Four thousand francs for a shawl ! Albert. Oh! it was was a magnificent one. Fran. You can give it to me. When you marry your wdfe can ha ve it. Albert. That is true, (handing his father a piece of paper) There it is. Fran. What is this? A pawm ticket? (turning threateningly to him) You rascal ! you pawned it? Albert (resolutely). Yes, papa, one day when I was hungry. Fran, (amazed). What! hungry? But your lessons— your lectures? Albert. I deceived you. I give none. Fran. Then what have you lived on these two years? Albert. Ah ! I don’t know. Many a day I have goue to bed without having eaten— Fran. What! Good Heaven! (aside, greatly moved) My poor boy! My little Albert! (looking at him) How thin he is! (aloud) Albert! Albert. Papa? Fran, (opening his tirms). Come to my arms! Albert (embracing him). Oh ! papa. Enter Louis, l. Louis. What! Fran, (to Albert, weeping). I was cruel not to have sent you money. Louis ! Louis. Uncle? Fran. Can I procure at once three or four beefsteaks and a bottle of Bordeaux? Louis. Very easily. If you will go into the dining-room Joseph will get them for you. BAB ABViOl. 96 Fran. I don’t want them for myself. I am not hungry. Albert {moved). Oh ! neither am I. Fran. That may be; but I want to see you eat. I want you to get back your strength. Albert. Well, to please you, papa. Fran. Give me your arm. I want to see you eat. Poor boy ! {patting his arm . Aside ) How thin he is— how thin he is! {aloud) Come! {They exeunt l. Louis {laughing). Now lie is going to stuff him. Enter Blandinet, r., rubbing his hands. Bland. Ah ! the rascality of that butcher — seven ounces short, and two large bones ; and they call him honest ; and he the father of a fami- ly. They are all alike ! Louis. Father ! Bland. Ah! You here? Louis. It is half past eleven. Bland. Well, what if it is? Louis. And at twelve M. Aubertin is to send for the fifty thousand francs you promised to lend him. Bland. So he is. I had forgotten all about it. Louis {astonished). What ! Bland. And he will be here in half an hour. I had forgotten. Louis. Fortunately, father, since it concerned an old friend, your heart would, I am sure, have brought it to your memory. Bland. Oh ! my heart. At my age, my son, it is not well to trust too much to that organ. Louis. But I trust it, father, as I trust in you. {grasping his hand) Adieu! [Exit, l. Bland, {alone). A mere child! I am sorry to see him so romantic. 1 opening drawer and taking out a bundle of bills) There they are !— fifty thousand francs in good money. The bills are new. ( counting ) One, two, three — It is a shame to lend new bills, one always gets old ones in return — six, seven, eight — Aubertin will never return them — nine, ten— He is a ruined man ; his ship is not insured— eleven — The Americans have probably captured it. Let me see, where was I? I must begin again. One, two — how warm it is ; it is strange how lending mo- ney excites one — three, four, five — In the first place, I wonder if he has a ship ; he told me so, but I have pever seen it — six, seven — if this Would, only save him, but it will not save him — eight— it will all go to his creditors — nine — who will gobble it up — ten —and I — eleven — {struck with an idea) Ah ! suppose I consult Francois? What good would that do? After all, I am not bound to make good the losses of this man. I have a wife and family, and I have no right to compromise their pros- pects. No. it would be wrong, very wrong, {he hastily puts bills in his pocket) I will write to him. After all. I am simply looking out for my own interests, {sits at table and writes) “ My dear friend — An unfore* seen catastrophe prevents my lending you the fifty thousand francs which I promised you. I am more grieved than I can tell you. Believe me your sincere friend.” That’s tlieway one always winds up a refusal. {rings.) Enter Joseph, r. Jos. Did you ring, monsieur? Bland. Take this letter to its address, immediately. Jos. Is there any answer? Bland. No ; you need not wait. BAD ADVICE. 3J. Jos. V&vy well; monsieur ; I will go at once. {Exit, r. Blanu. [alone). All ! ah ! I have clone a cruel, a cowardly thing— it is wicked ! ' An old friend — [calling) Joseph ! [then thinking better of it) Well, after ail, I am not sorry ; it was well done. So much the better. I have become a knave — I am a hardened rascal, like the others! Enter Joseph, r., crosses and goes up c. and meets Aubertin, wh* enters c. Jos. A letter for you, Monsieur Aubertin. Aub. [to Joseph). A letter! All right ; give it to me. [Joseph hands letter and exit , c. Bland, [aside). He! Aub. Ah! my friend, what joy ! what happiness ! I am saved! Bland. What? Aub. My ship, the ‘‘Belle Irma,” has arrived at Havre. Bland. Ah ! Bah ! Aub. She came in this morning. I have just received the news. A magnificent cargo ! A fortune ! Congratulate me. Bland. With pleasure, [aside) The devil! my letter! Aub. I came to tell you the good news, and to say that I shall not need the fifty thousand francs. Bland, [aside). Oh ! if I had only known. Aub. But you see, Blandinet — no, Edmond — [grasping his hand) my old friend. Edmond ! Bland, [hesitating). Gustave! my friend Gustave! Aub. The reverses of fortune sometimes try us cruelly, but they have their good side — they make known to us our true friends, [holds letter in his rigid hand , which he 'places upon Blandinet’s shoulder.) Bland. Yes— my letter! frying to take it.) Aub. [withdrawing his hand and placing it on the other shoulder ). So, never, never — you hear — shall I forget what you have done for me. Bland, {trying to get letter). We will not speak of that. Aub. And our children — our dear children! May they be happy! Louis asked me for my daughter’s hand. Bland. Yes, I know. Aub. But you understand that in the position in which I found myself — my ship perhaps lost — I was possibly ruined — I could make him but one answer — Wait, my boy, as I do, and hope ! Bland. What? Aub. I could not, with a clear conscience give your son a penniless girl. Bland, [grasping his hand). Ah! Gustave! Aub. But to-day I am rich — richer than you, perhaps ; and I have the honor to ask your son’s hand for my daughter. Bland. I am only too happy — certainly, [forgetting himself) Mj letter — if I only could, [tries to take it.) Aub. What are you about? Ah! your letter. Bland, [forcing a smile). You don’t want it now. Give it back tc me. Aub. No ; I want to see wliat you have written. Bland. No, no! Aub. [opening letter and reading it). Ah ! Great Heaven ! Bland, [aside). It is all over! Wliat will he say? Enter Joseph, c. At Aubertin’s first word he stops nnd listens . Aub. “ An unforeseen catastrophe” ! Ah ! my poor friend* what thmtf say is true then? I did not dare to speak of it. 4 32 BAD ADVICE. Bland. What do you mean? Aub. Your bankers, Messrs. Turneps & Co. Bland. Well? Aub. They have fled! Bland. ( staggered ). Ah! my God! What did you say? Aub. Did you not know it? Bland. No. Aub. ( showing letter ). Why then Bland, {quickly). Yes, yes! — the catastrophe! But where are they? Aub. I don’t know. Bland. But I had three hundred thousand francs in their lmJds. 1 am ruined ! Jos. {aside). Ruined ! Aub. Ah ! my friend — my poor friend— what a blow ! You so good, so generous! But don’t give way; have courage. We shall meet again soon. [Exit, hastily , c. Bland, {seating himself at table). Well, he has gone. He leaves me in my hour of trouble, after the service I was on the point of rendering him. It is well ; he will not return, {seeing Joseph) There is that fellow come to ask for his wages. (Joseph sobs) They are all alike. He wants a recommendation. (Joseph sobs again) Eli ! well, yes, you shall have it— you shall have your money. Jos. {in broken voice). Oh ! monsieur, if you would only keep me for nothing. I don’t eat much Bland, {astonished). What! you wish to serve me without wages? You! Jos. {weeping). I should feel so badly to leave you, monsieur. Bland. The fellow is really weeping ! Jos. {sobbing). Such a good master! who last year, when I was sick, went himself to get me medicine. ( weeping ) Oh ! oh ! Bland, {struggling with his tears). Ah! Joseph, it is a painful thing to be ruined. But, on the other hand, it is- almost a pleasure, {both wipe their eyes. ) Enter Henrietta and Louis, l., and look at the two weeping. Hen. What! Tears? Jos. All! madame, master is ruined! Hen. and Louis. Ruined! Bland. What can you expect? I was too confiding— I was a fool! Hen. My dear ! Louis. Father! Hen. Ah ! I understand now your strange conduct— the reforms in our expenses which you wished to introduce. Jos. That was the reason he pitched into the butcher so. Hen. I have diamonds, laces ; I will sell them. Bland, {aside). She will sell her diamonds ! Louis. And this morning you offered me a hundred francs a month. I do not need them, father. I am young, I will work. Now it is my turn to provide for you. Bland. Noble boy ! Hen. My poor husband, we two will see that you never feel the pangs of poverty. Jos. Yes, we three will ! Bland, {rising and drawing Henrietta and Louis’ arms through his). Oh! go on, go on ! If you knew how happy you make me. Oh ! BAD ADVICE. 83 family ! One must have faitli in that, and a little in one’s servants. oseph) Thanks, Joseph. I forgive you. s. Forgive me for what, monsieur? and. Oh ! nothing— almost nothing. Yesterday, the sugar, the V»nja J'y ; but we will say no' more about it. Bpjos. Yesterday? Why, it was Monsieur Albert who mixed a drink. Bland. Ah ! (aside) And I accused him ! (feels in his pocket and takes $)kf* large number of keys) Take these, Joseph. I thought I would pttfclhem in my pocket; not that I suspected any one, but to have them reniired. Enter Mizabran, c. ■ 1 1 Miz. (greatly moved). Ah ! poor dear man ! Bland. What? Miz. I have just heard of it, and I bring you two quarters on ac- count. (hands him bank notes.) Bland., Hen. and Louis. What? Bland. All ! Mizabran. Miz. I will give you the rest at the end of the month. Bland. There is no hurry. Miz. When you were rich you could wait, but to-day Bland, (wiping, his eyes with the notes). Ah ! Mizabran, you are an honest fellow, (aside) His leather perhaps is not of the best quality, but his heart— (aloud) Mizabran, I want some more boots. Miz. No, monsieur, I will make yon do more. Bland. But, my good fellow— x Miz. No, monsieur. There is your measure, (tears it up.) Bland, (aside). He is sublime ! My faith in bootmakers is restored. Enter Francois and Albert, l. Fran. Eh ? Well, pretty things I hear. Ruined !— at your age. Well, I expected it. You let yourself be taken in and swindled, like a fool. Albert (aside). Poor uncle ! Bland, (aside). And that is how he consoles me! (goes up with Hen- rietta. Louis makes him sit down.) Fran. You will probably be involved in difficulties— lawsuits, and all that sort of thing. I recommend Albert— he is an advocate. Bland. Thank you. (aside) And that is all h # e offers me. Albert. Papa! Fran. What? Albert. Why, I am not quite an advocate. Fran. What! Albert. Because, the money to pay for my certificate — my diploma— i eat it. Fran Ah! If you spent it for food you did right. (aside, pressing Alberts arm) Poor boy! (aloud) We will dine together, (he sits down Msuncle) Wntes ' Albert grasps Louis’ hand, and then approaches Albert (in low tone). Uncle! Bland. Eh ? wrkim^ RT ^ eiac hing diamond pin). Take this — quick, while papa is Bland. A diamond pin ! you LBEBT ' Ifc iS W ° rth tWeIve hundred francs - 11 is all I have to give Bland, (refusing). Later, mv boy, if I need it. (aside) What a good BAD ADVICE. 34 heart he has! And I refused to lend him twenty louis. Ah ! nephews are not so bad, after all ; but as for brothers — there is mine, writing tranquilly, as if nothing had happened. Fran. ( rising , abruptly to Blandinet). There, sign that, imbecile ! Bland. What is it? Fran. Articles of copartnership. All. What! Bland. With j t ou? Fran. Yes ; I suppose I must help you to regain your fortune since you have lost it. Bland, {throwing his arms around his neck). Ah ! Francois ! Enter Aubertin and Laura, c. Aub. Come, do not despair. All may yet be well. Louis and Hen. M. Aubertin ! Aub. {taking paper from his pocket , to Blandinet). There, sign that ! Bland. What? What is it? {taking paper.) Aub. Articles of copartnership. Bland. Another ! {embracing him) Ah ! Gustave ! {aside, wiping his eyes with the paper) And I said he would not return. Ah ! one must believe in one’s friends. Aub. Now, here is Laura, waiting for you to be good enough to ask her hand. Bland. Alas ! that cannot be. Louis is penniless. Aub. Pardon me, he is not. He has the fifty thousand francs you wished to lend me. Bland, {quickly). We will not speak of that. Aub. On the contrary, we will speak of it. I have set that amount aside for him. Bland, {aside). Ah ! how good men are. Laura. Besides, I am rich enough for two; and if necessary I will deprive myself Bland. Deprive yourself! Dear little one! {aside) Ah! how good women are. Aub. And then perhaps your affairs may not be so desperate as they seem. M. Turneps, your banker, has been arrested on the Belgian frontier. Louis. M. Turneps? Bland. You know, the three hundred thousand francs. Louis. But they are not in his hands. Having your power of attorney I withdrew them day before yesterday. They are now in the Bank of France. All. Ah ! Bland. Is it possible? I am— I am rich! Mizabrun, I return your two quarters, {handing money.) Miz. There is no hurry, Monsieur Blandinet — to-morrow. Bland, {to Joseph). Joseph, I double your wages! {to his wife) You shall have some new diamonds ! {to Louis) I will give you a house ! Aub. Well, you are content? Bland. Oh, yes — that is to say, no ! Aub. Why not? Bland. Why not? Because I have done something — Oh! how can I ever tell you what I have done? Oh ! Gustave! my old friend Gustave, I have been a wretch, a miserable fool ! I suspected my wife, my boot- maker, an angel BAD ADVICE, ft* Miz. (advancing). Oh ! monsieur. Bland. Not you — my wife — and Brebaut Fran. By the way, now that I come to think of it, I did have shrimps. Bland. Finally, I became suspicious of everybody and everything, (to Laura) I no longer believed in our little birds ! Laura. Oh ! how unhappy you must have been. Bland. Oh ! yes ; but that is all over now ; so let any one ask a favor of me — a loan of money — and you will see Fran, (quickly). Hush! Albert! Bland. It was for him that I said that. He is a noble fellow. You see, my children, I have reflected. I know the world now— I have known it for— five minutes. Well, suppose that there are men in it who are not absolutely perfect — that, mind you, is merely a supposition — to be happy one must know how to do two things Fran. To keep his eyes open and his doors locked. Bland. No. To shut his eyes and open his hands. CURTAIN. SYNOPSIS OF THE PLAY. This charming play is an adaptation of “ Petits Oiseaux,” by Eugene Labiche. Edmond Blandinet, a tender-hearted old gentleman, whose ear and purse are always open to the suffering, lives in a happy home with his wife (his second) and his son Louis. His brother Francois arrives upon the scene, and, being the exact opposite of Edmond in character, is disgusted at the manner in which his brother is ever ready to respond to the calls of those whom he declares to be s^pndlers. He suc- ceeds in proving that the writer of a piteous appeal for aid is nothing but a fraud, and then so works upon Edmond’s feelings, that the poor man comes to distrust and be suspicious of every one— his friends, his son, and even his wife. His eyes are finally opened, when, believing himself to be ruined, he finds those whom he has suspected the first to come to his assistance. Louis and Albert, sons of the two Blandinet brothers, are capital characters; and the change which comes over Fran- cois when he finds that his son, to whom he has refused to send money, has been arrested for debt, is truly pathetic. The parts of Henrietta and Laura are both good, and those of Mizabran and the faithful old servant Joseph afford scope for capital acting. The play appeals to the best feelings of tl^ heart, and was pro- nounced a success on the French stage. It is an admirable PLae for amateurs. 5 A Cxreat J?lay. I BAD ADVICE: CM H OR, PAIR OF SPECTACLE^ A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS. Adapted from “ Les Petits Oiseaux” of MM. 'Eugene Labit and Delacour. By HORACE W. FULLER. PRICE 13 CENTS. Eight male, three female characters. Scenery, a handsotru furnished drawing-room, and a room furnished as a library or offi Time of playing, about two hours. Costumes of the present day. 1 his play has made a tremendous hit in both London and Pari and in New York an adaptation, called “ A Pair of Spectacles,” being played nightly, to crowded houses, at the Madison Squa Theatre. It