TRAGEDIES.

OF

FARCES, ETC..

NO. 10.

EXITS AND ENTRANCES.-R. means Right; L. Left; R. D. Right Door: L.

D Left Door; 2 E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. D. Middle Door. RELATIVE POSITIONS.-R. means Right; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C.

VOL. 1.

ful world. The feeling lasted but a moment. I raised the child and asked her if she were sick. Her answer almost drove me wild: "No, dear sister," said she, "don't tell mamma, but I am so very, very hungry; could you give me something, if only a dry crust?" I kissed her, but could only give her a cup of water. Seeing my eyes fill with tears, as I told her I had nothing better to offer her, she threw her arms around my neck and said, "Never mind, dear Nathalie, I'll go to sleep and try to forget my hunger." [NATHALIE, who has been very much excited, now looks at her mother, who has covered her face with her hands, and is weeping.] Mamma, dear mamma, forgive How selfish-how thoughtless I have been, to distress you so! I will not give way to such low spirits again. Here comes Leonore; she must not find us crying.

me.

Enter LEONORE.

Leonore. I could not help her coming up, sister

Stage, facing the audience.

SCENE I.-MME. DE LONGUEVILLE, with her daughter NATHALIE, at a table, sewing. NATHALIE lays down her work-seems in deep thought.

Mme. de Longueville. Nathalie, I insist upon knowing the cause of your sadness and troubled air these last few days. I do not like to think you would conceal anything from your mother, and yet I am sure you have some secret grief; in the commencement of our trials you editied me by your patience; but lately

Nathalie. 'Tis true, mamma, at first I was full of hope, but now the future looks dark and dreary before us, and, at times, I fear it will ever be thus. Mme. de L. Nay, my child, do not lose courage. I feel sure we will not have to suffer long. We will obtain some employment from Mrs. Grind next week, and if our work pleases her she says she will give us more.

Nath. I could bear these trials alone, but when I see you, dearest mother, so patient and uncomplaining, day after day grow more wan and pale, and look on little Leonore's face, so changed from what it once was, I feel as though my heart would burst, and almost wish you had died, and left me to bear the burden of this life alone. It was only last night I went towards Leonore's crib, and seeing her so pale and lie so quietly, I was startled and thought she had died; for an instant I almost rejoiced that her spirit had left this cold, ungrate

her dues, although I told her all you said about not troubling mamma. She seemed very angry. hear her coming upstairs now.

I

Mme. de L. Leonore, my child, of whom are you speaking?

Leonore. Of that great, ugly, disagreeable Mrs. Banter; she

Nath. I will see her, mamma; I suppose she has come for the rent.

Enter MRS. BANTER.

Mrs. Banter. I'm glad you have saved me the trouble of announcing the object of my visit, young lady; so now, just get me the money as quickly as you can; dear knows I've been kept waiting long enough for it. [To LEONORE.] Well, missey, you've found out by this time it's no use opposing Mrs. Banter, haven't you?

Leonore. It is never any use to oppose disagreeable people.

Nath. Leonore, dear, be quiet. I am very sorry, Mrs. Banter, but I have found it impossible to obtain any work, and consequently cannot pay you to-day. I regret it extremely, I assure you.

Mrs. B. And I assure you I will have my money before I leave this room, or you quit the premises to-morrow morning. Come, give me the money; I don't like to turn you out.

Mme. de L. But, my good woman, we have not the money. Had you sent us word a few days ago, we might have had it in our power to pay you now.

Mrs. B. Where's the notice I sent you? Didn't

I send you a warning last week to give you time to prepare that's more than I ever did for any one of my tenants before; but I wanted to be generous with you.

Nath. Mrs. Banter, you have heard all we have to say. You shall be paid every cent we owe you; we only ask time.

Mrs. B. Asking is not getting, as you'll soon see. What has become of all the fine relations you talked about when first you came here?

Nath. We are, as you know, strangers here. If you are acquainted with any one whom you think will give us work, I will gladly seek it.

Mrs. B. Well, why don't you go to Mrs. Horace Neville, of Union Square? She's charitable-her name is on half the subscription lists in the city. Nath. Thank you; I will go to her, and if I succeed in obtaining work, you shall be paid as soon as possible. [Exit MRS. BANTER.] Mamma, how can I ask for work? I am a stranger to Mrs. Neville; suppose she mistrusts me, and refuses to give it to me. To think that we have come to this! [Sinks into a chair, crying. Leonore. Dear Nathalie, you shall not go. I do not mind it. I will go to Mrs. Neville. Mme. de L. You, Leonore! Mrs. Neville would not listen to such a child.

Leonore. Let me try, mamma. I am sure I shall

succeed.

Mme. de L. [kissing her.] Well, my child, go; though I almost fear to trust you.

Leonore. Never fear, mamma; I will return in a little while with such an armful of work you will hardly find time to finish it.

[Exit.

Hatty, have you finished that head-dress I wish to wear to-morrow?

Hatty. It's not altogether done, ma'am. I'll do my best to have it for you soon, ma'am.

Mrs. N. You are very tedious, Hatty. Where is Cisco? There is no knowing what mischief he is plotting; knowing, as he does, that Lord Egbert is to dine with us to-morrow, and that there is much for him to do. Send him here at once, Hatty. [Exit HATTY.] I wish it were not the fashion to keep colored servants-they are so

troublesome.

Cisco. [soliloquizing.] Look-a-here, Cisco, you'd better think what you's got to do to-morrow; firstly, missis is gwine to have company, and she expects you to wait on 'em-dat ar's plain. Secondly, it's jes' as plain you can't do no sech t'ing -no, Cisco-it won't do can't wait on de company, nohow. Must take better care of yourself than all that comes to-must be sick-laws, here comes de missis—declare I feels bad already. [Throws himself into a chair; rolls up his eyes. Enter MRS. NEVILLE.

Mrs. N. Cisco! Cisco! what is the matter? Are you dying?

Cisco. [gasping for breath.] Dunno, missis; 'specs I am. Laws-a-me, de ways of de wicked is hard! Jes' to think I should be took bad at de auspicious moment when missis is gwine to have company. Oh! oh! my head-o-o-h!

Mrs. N. What in the world brought this on? Cisco. I's very liable to these 'tacks, missis, but nuffin in de world but over-work brings 'em on. I's too willin' a nigger-dat ar's plain.

Mrs. N. But something must be done at once. Cisco. Plenty of sleep, missis, is de only cure for me when I get a reg'lar 'tack-and from the feelin's which perwades the system at de present time, I should call dis yere a reg'lar ole 'tack.

Mrs. N. [sighing.] Well, it is certainly very inconvenient, but I suppose it is not your fault. Cisco. [groaning.] Laws bress you, no, missis.

Enter HATTY.

Mrs. M. Hatty, you must go at once to Mr. Hunt, and ask him to send me a good waiter..

Hatty. Yes, ma'am, but if you please, ma'am, there's a little girl below wishing to see you. İ told her it was no use troubling you, for you never

helped beggars. I scarcely had the words out of my mouth, when she gave me such a look and said she was no beggar. What shall I tell her? Mrs. N. Let her come up. [Exit HATTY.] Enter HATTY and LEONORE.

Well, child, what do you want? Speak quickly. Leonore. [timidly.] I came—I came-madame, to--to ask for work-for sewing, ma'am.

Mrs. N. Ha, ha, ha! You child come for work? Do you imagine I would trust my sewing in the hands of such a child? You'd better go home to your mother at once, and tell her I say it is very improper to send out such a child as you are.

Leonore. I do not ask for myself; it is for mamma and my sister. I am sure you would like their sewing. Mrs. Banter sent me to you.

Mrs. N. I really would like to do something for you if it were in my power. I presume your sister sews well enough, but I can do nothing for stransociety. I, myself, belong to several, any one of gers. You had better apply for relief to some which would be glad to help you if you are deserving. [LEONORE tries to speak.] There, child, go; do not annoy me with any sad story. I am already low-spirited with the vexations of the day. work. Leonore. Oh, do not send me away without We will die of hunger, if we do not get help soon. My father died a few months ago, and left us so poor that mamma said we would be obliged to work for a living. Mamma was too proud to live in France, amongst all her friends who had known her when she was rich, and determined to come to this country to live, but I

at home; for since we have been here we've had so much sickness that it took the last cent mamma had to pay for medicine.

Mrs. N. I cannot but believe you, you seem so sincere, and if you will leave your number, I will give your name to some of the societies. My maid will give you some work for the present.

[HATTY hands her some work. Leonore. Thank you, ma'am. Could-couldyou give me just-just-a-little money in advance on this work, madame? We have not a cent in the house-mamina would be very much obliged.

Mrs. N. [handing her some money.] There, child. [Exit LEONORE.

Enter HELEN.

Helen. What pretty child is that, mamma? Mrs. N. A beggar child; I have just given some work to her; but I do not suppose I shall ever see her again.

Helen. There is the queerest looking man downstairs, mamma, who insists you have sent for him. I can hardly understand a word he says. Will you see him, mamma ?

Mrs. N. I suppose he is the man whom Mr. Hunt has sent to take Cisco's place. Cisco is sick. Helen. [laughing.] Cisco sick, mamma! You must be mistaken. I heard him dancing in the kitchen when I was speaking to that man.

Mrs. N. At any rate I cannot depend upon him. Hatty, tell that man to come up here. [Exit HATTY.

Enter MIKE.

Mike. Excuse me, ladies, but is this the room that rung for me?

Mrs. N. I sent for you. I wish to engage a good faithful servant.

Mike. Indade, you have that same right forninst ye. I've been telling that young lady all my capabilities, and if you want a good, honest, obaydient, unpretending waiter, and one that's willing to do most anything to make himself ginerally useful, you'd better not send me away from you in too great a hurry.

Mrs. N. I presume it would be difficult to find many like you. [To her daughter.] I may as well try him as any one else; it is all chance, and although his appearance is against him, I presume he is honest. [To MIKE.] What is your name, and what recommendations can you give me?

Mike. Me name is Mike Donovan, and indade, I'm sorry to say it, but I have no character at all to give you, for though I lived in two of the greatest families in Europe, as circumstances were whin I left them, I didn't get a written recommend at all from them. Wid your leave I'll tell you how it was. It's a short story, aisy tould. Ye see, ma'am, when I was a young man, I took it into me foolish head that it would be a dale nicer to be a Frenchman than an Irishman, for you see, the gentleman I lived wid was always a-talking up the French, and rating at the Irish. After pondherin' and meditating on it as good as two weeks, I made up me mind to go to France. Arrah, Mike, says I, that's the very thing for you, says I. Shure once you're in France, who'll know you are not French.? But I am fataguing you, ma'am, so I'll skip to the last part of me story. Well, to make a long jump, I wint to France, and

them French people bates 'em all out. Why, it's the truth I'm saying, and you might talk to them from morning till night, and not one word would they understand. The finest discourse that was ever held, was a perfect waste of eloquence on 'em. Well, ma'am, after awhile I got a place, and indade it was worth going twice the distance to get it. The family all spoke English like Christians, for, although the lady was born in France, her father was English. After I'd lived with them about a year, a gintleman enticed me away from them to go traveling with him, and not a word did I hear from them again till I heard, about six months ago, that they had lost all their property, and had come to this country to live. Arrah, Mike Donovan, says I, is it you, you rascal, that 'ud be standing here wid your hands in your pockets, and the misthress and them two lovely young ladies off in a strange country, widout one to wait on 'em or help 'em at all; so I went to me master and told him me errand. He begged me to stay wid him, and offered to raise me wages if I would, but of course I wouldn't; so I started off to look for them. I went to the place where they used to live, to get the name of the vessel they'd come out in, but couldn't find it. I felt so disheartened sometimes that I'd almost give it up, and then I'd think that, as long as I knew what was the name of the city they were in, I could find them if I'd look long enough; so, if you plaze, ma'am, I'll want an afternoon once in a while, to go look for them, for track or trace of them I haven't yet found. After all, I didn't tell you why I had no character to show ye. Ye see, ma'am, me master knew I was going to my old mistress, and so it would be useless trouble to pass recommends between us.

Mrs. N. I will give you a trial, Mike. You may go now to Martin, who will show you what I wish done.

SCENE III.-MRS. NEVILLE'S Boudoir. HATTY arranging a head-dress-after sewing awhile, rises and arranges her mistress' toilet-table.

Hatty. What a hard life mine is never any rest-always at work. My mistress thinks she has a hard time of it, but I wish she would step into my shoes for awhile. She would be satisfied with her own, I suspect. I wonder if I could not get a peep at that lovely little head-dress Mme. D'Orsay sent home yesterday.

[Goes to a small band-box and takes it out. MIKE has come in, and, seeing her occupation,

hides behind a chair to watch her.

Mike. [aside.] Wisha, only look at her! If she isn't going to try it on! Well, Hatty, if you don't bate all I ever see. [HATTY puts on the cap, tosses her head, takes up one of the cologne bottles. MIKE by chance moves the chair, which makes a noise, and so startles her that she lets it fall and break. She screams, and MIKE starts up, exclaiming] Arrah, Hatty, girl, what's the matter wid ye?

Hatty. Oh, Mike, just see what you've donehow you frightened me and spilled all the cologne over the floor. What will Mrs. Neville say?

Mike. Only listen to her! is it me spilled it? sorra a hand did I lay on it, only you knew you were in mischief, and got so frightened because the chair happened to move, that you let it fall

Mrs. N. Where did you find them, Mike? Mike. Why, you see, ma'am, I was walking along the street, thinking of them two sweet young ladies, when I felt some one pulling at me! coat-sleeve. I looked around, and there stood the prettiest little girl, and she asking me if I would tell her where she would find a doctor for her mother, who was very sick. I got a doctor for her, and took him to the direction the little girl gave me, and the very minute I clapped me two eyes on her, I knew it was the mistress. She was just getting over a faint, and I didn't like to startle her, but I said to the child, says I, "Will ye be so obliging as to tell me your name?" "Leonore de Longueville," says she. Arrah, you're dhraming, darlint !" says I, "that's not your name at all." "It is," says she," and that's my sister Nathalie," says she. So when I heard that, I fell on my two knees and cried till they didn't know what to make of me at all. "Wisha, mistress, darlint," says I, "don't you know your own Mike" An' then the fun began. Such a sane as it was of crying and confusion-that you'd think it was sorry we were for seeing each other again. Mr. N. Mike, what is the name of those people you have just found?

Mike. It's Madame de Longueville, sir. Mr. N. De Longueville! This must be the very family we are looking for. If I recollect right, that was the very name of my uncle's sister. What was her name before marriage, Mike?

Mike. [thoughtfully.] I can tell you in a minit, sir. It was-och, why can't I remember it? It was some English name, sir.

Mr. N. Was it Howard?

can be no others than Mr. and Mrs. Neville. The mystery will soon be solved, for here they are. Enter MR. and MRS. NEVILLE, HELEN, followed by MIKE and HATTY. MIKE has LEONORE by the hand.

Mme. de L. Mrs. Neville, I presume. [They bow. Mrs. N. By a note you probably received from my husband a short time ago, you are informed why we take the liberty of calling on you; further apology is therefore unnecessary.

Mme. de L. Certainly; but I must confess I cannot understand what disclosures Mr. Neville can have to make, and am equally surprised at finding you are the kind lady Mike has been telling us of.

Mike. And why shouldn't I praise her whin she desarves it? Didn't she give me a day every week to go look for yees? and didn't she say to me, Mike," says she, "if ever ye find that family ye're looking for, just let me know, and I warrant you they'll not be in suffering long."

Mr. N. Madame, for the last eighteen years I have enjoyed the greatest prosperity, for which I ed me when I was quite a child. A few months am indebted to an old gentleman, who had adoptago, a will of my uncle's, bearing a later date than the one which left me his property, was found. It has been proved an authentic document, and by it, madame, you are made sole heiress to your

brother's vast estate.

Mme. de L. Can it be possible? I must be dreaming! Nathalie, do you hear? we are richabsolutely rich once more. What can I say to you, sir, for your noble-minded act?

Mr. N. I could not enjoy luxuries which must be bought at expense of honesty. I am still young enough to work, and we will be happy in our poverty, while

Mme. de L. Poverty-poverty, sir! Do you think your noble kindness is to be so illy repaid by me? No, no-your care has trebled the value of this property. You must share it with us.

Mr. N. Your offer is so generous, madameMme. de L. It is your just due, sir-nothing more. What shall I say to you, my faithful Mike, for your constancy and devotion to us?

Mike. The greatest favor you can do me is niver to mintion the subject to me at all. [Crying.] It's this time; though many's the bitter tear I shed not crying I am, ma'am. These are tears of joy, for yees since we parted; and when my feelings would get the better of me, I'd remember the ould saying: "Where there's a will there's a way," and then I'd go to work ag'in. But, of all the cheering proverbs or wise sayings, the one that bates them all out, is the one that I'd say to myself whin I'd feel discouraged intirely, and think I'd niver find yees at all.

Nath. What was that, Mike?

Mike. "Tis "The darkest hour before dawn!"

THE END.