Steele MacKaye

“ PAUL. Heroes who debauched our women, and enslaved our men!—Libertines who let harlots reign in France! Despots whose arrogant descendants are crushed to-day beneath their fathers' sins!
LA ROCHE. What, sir! You, a soldier, justify these Jacobins—anarchists like Carrac, who slaughter hundreds of defenceless women every day, and even outrage little children?
PAUL. Anarchists are monsters your race bred when it brutalized their mothers.
LA ROCHE. Enough, sir! I see that I must leave you to your fate.
PAUL. But Diane, my wife! Give me one word of her. ”

“ DUKE. [Alone.]
This alliance secures Diane from peril. The Marquis is young, noble,—has saved her life, and has a claim on it. She must marry while there's time to get away.
[Enter DIANE.]
Now, dear child, what is it?
DIANE. Father, I loathe this useless life of mine! I long for action—danger—anything that stirs the blood, and brings oblivion.
DUKE. Oblivion!—Nay, Diane, I have something happier to suggest than that. Time and circumstance commend to you a marriage. We owe our lives to the wisdom of a man who seeks your hand to-day. ”

“ The dumb girl of the guillotine!
POTIN. Who glides like a phantom through the streets, without home, friend, or occupation.
NANETTE. [With horror.]
Except to stand by the scaffold, and count the heads that fall from the guillotine.
POTIN. They say that calamity overtakes everyone she follows: that it's disaster to stand in her way, and sure death to notice her.
NANETTE. Aye, even those who think themselves too great to believe in God, have faith in the fatal power of this pale child. My God! look there!
POTIN. Good Lord!—It's Mademoiselle Diane! ”

“ DIANE. Is he so hard to take?
LA ROCHE. Yes. Reptiles are worse to overcome than lions. They bite unseen, and escape by crawling. This Carrac is brave in words, but too craven to face fighting in the field. Our soldiers rarely reach these civil sinners.
DUKE. Let us forget them here. For now we will task your hospitality for a time.
LA ROCHE. I swear I have not felt the poverty that war entails till now. My old chateau has been dismantled—this hall alone is habitable. I feel ashamed to offer you such shabby quarters. ”

“ DIANE. Father! You hear? It is to him that we owe our agony!—One of your own race.
POTIN. Kauvar was his friend—this dog betrayed him!
NANETTE. Yes, while he himself was all the time a Marquis in disguise.
PAUL. He, my friend—a traitor!
CARRAC. Death to the brigand!
MOB. Death to him! To the river! Drown him!
[They seize GOUROC.
GOUROC. [Breaking away from them.]
Fiends—I defy you, and escape you!
[Draws pistol, fires, and falls dead.
BOURDOTTE. [Feeling GOUROC'S breast.]
Dead.—Dead as potted pork.
CARRAC. And the people cheated of their just revenge!
CITIZENS bear GOUROC'S body off. ”

“ CARRAC. Let's complete our triumph—prove our power—
MOB. Bravo!—Bravo!
CARRAC. You are the people!—You are France!—Let the Nation voice her will through you.—What shall we do with our prisoners?
BOURDOTTE. Kill them.
MOB. Aye—kill them—kill them!
BOURDOTTE. Drown the men like puppies, and put the women to public shame!
MOB. Aye! Aye!
CARRAC. The voice of the people is the voice of God.—Have your will—it is
God's command!
Enter CITIZENS, dragging the DUKE, GOUROC, DIANE, NANETTE, and ALINE, a young girl. ”

“ TABOOZE. In the name of the Republic, I arrest Honoré Albert Maxime, heretofore
Duc de Beaumont.
DIANE. [Clasping the DUKE.]
Father!
PAUL. [Sternly.]
What does this mean?—Whose name is on that warrant?
TABOOZE. [With surprise.]
Why, your own, Citizen.
[PAUL recoils, stunned.
DUKE. What! Betrayed by you?
DIANE. No, no! It is not true!
[Snatching the paper, looking, then with a cry.]
Great heaven!—It is!—His name and hand!
[She sinks down in despair.
PAUL. [Passionately, to the DUKE.]
I betray you!—I, Paul Kauvar.—Tis false!
[To DIANE.]
You at least will not believe this lie. ”

“ GOUROC. Because he, disguised, took your place on the guillotine.
DIANE. [Rising.]
My God!
DUKE. What! I owe my life to him?
GOUROC. He died to atone his treachery to you.
DIANE. Traitors do not die to save their victims! His life was noble! His death sublime!
[To the DUKE.]
You have foully wronged the man who bravely met a martyr's death for you!—have scorned and spurned me from your side, because I was his wife. ”

“ DUKE. And so make my debt to him a means of reaching you;—but I would not accept my life from hands unclean with treachery.
PAUL. There's not a drop of traitor's blood within my veins!
DUKE. Yet you signed the warrant for my arrest.
PAUL Then another hand than mine—unknown to me—filled in your name.
DUKE. Plausible trickster!—We have here double proof that you are guilty.
[Enter GOUROC in background.]
The evidence of the man to whom you gave the warrant, commanding him to take it to the Guard.
PAUL. There's no such man alive—or dead!
DUKE. Potin, advance. ”

“ GOUROC. But Diane, your daughter—?
DUKE. Must take the chances of a soldier's child.
GOUROC. You forget her peril from this scoundrel, Carrac.—Why not put her safely out of the reach of such a brute?
DUKE. How?
GOUROC. There are vessels here by which we can escape to England.
DUKE. I fly no further. I owe the King and country service here.
GOUROC. Then let Diane go with me to friends in London. When I've found for her safe asylum, I'll return to do my duty at your side.
DUKE. The daughter of a peer of France could hardly go so far without protection worthy of her rank. ”

“ Duke—?
GOUROC. Why not? The Republic is poor, the Duke is rich. He has been condemned for our glory. But if his secret escape will bring us gold, why not crown the Republic with riches as well as fame? Is not this Patriotism?
MARDOCHE. Yes, Patriotism to-day! Yesterday and to-morrow—Jesuitism.
GOUROC. Well, your answer. Will you save the Duke?
MARDOCHE. [After a pause.]
I will.
GOUROC. Good! In your cell you'll find everything for your disguise.
MARDOCHE. [As howls are heard outside.]
Listen.—That is the voice of fraternity shrieking for fratricide! ”

“ PAUL. Agony is fire that melts the mettle of the hardest man.
GOUROC. But why should you—a Jacobin—care for this old Duke?
PAUL. I loved his daughter—she became my wife.
GOUROC. [Starting.]
What! Diane de Beaumont is your wife?
PAUL. Yes—has been my wife in secret—for six months.
GOUROC. [Aside.]
So I have a double task! To save her—and kill her husband.
[Aloud.]
The same old story, Comrade, and as usual a woman mars the plot! You were a patriot, till love enmeshed you in his magic web; then you became the weakest of mankind—a husband. I am sorry, very sorry ”

“ PAUL. No, never!—Never till I've won a name that even your proud father is forced to honour. Meantime, I ask but this—your love and trust, while I have life to strive.
DIANE. You shall have it!—Yes, through sunshine and shadow, I will love and trust you to the end.
[They embrace.
DUKE. [Outside.]
Nanette, the coach is ready: be quick, bear our baggage to the door.
[PAUL and DIANE separate quickly. Entering, the DUKE glances suspiciously at the two, then advances to PAUL.]
Paul Kauvar, let us not part in bitterness. I owe you much; I grieve to see you suffer. Courage! ”

“ DUKE. [Sternly.]
'Tis useless to intimidate the witness. He will not prove himself a perjurer, and condemn himself to death, even to please so dear a friend as you.
PAUL. My God!—There is some wicked plot!
DUKE. Yes—and you're the plotter.
[PAUL falls prostrate into chair near table. Supporting DIANE to the door of his cell, the DUKE pauses and speaks.]
Paul Kauvar, we shall never meet again.—Remember my last words.—Beggars, thieves, assassins may escape perdition; but neither here, nor hereafter, is there any hope for Judas. ”

“ Ah, Citizen Kauvar!—Patriot!—Revolutionist!—Bold son of Liberty, as you are!—You'd love this age of terror less if it brought death to Mademoiselle Diane.—Yes, I've watched ye, sturdy citizen, and in spite of your stern devotion to the Republic, I suspect you carry another idol in your heart.
DIANE [Outside, laughing.]
All right, Citizen,—I'll not forget; though the poor crazed girl is not half as harmful as her saner neighbours.
NANETTE. Ah! Here she comes—Diane Leblanc,—a ray of sunlight in this prison men call Paris. ”

“ PRISONER. The only ears I'd care to reach would rather never hear my name again.
LA HOGUE. But curse your stubbornness! I want to know your name myself. Can't you be civil as well as brave?
PRISONER. [Laughing.]
Well, then, to please your gentle highness, I must give it. I am
Captain on the Staff of General Kleber—Captain Kauvar.
LA ROCHE and LA HOGUE.
[Starting.]
Kauvar?
PAUL. Yes—Captain Paul Kauvar.
LA ROCHE. [Turning amazed to LA HOGUE.]
What do you think of this?
LA HOGUE. That if I had a regiment of Paul Kauvar's, I'd conquer Europe.
LA ROCHE. My cousin's husband was guillotined. ”

“ Yes,—Carrac—an anarchist—a fiend—in the name of liberty invoking the tyranny of terror! An assassin—shouting fraternity and committing fratricide! A libertine—claiming equality with the good, while ravishing the pure! A monster—part vulture, part toad—who, in the holy name of progress, makes our Country and our Cause revolting to the world! ”

“ PRISONER. France has no sovereign but the people.—It is you who are the traitors.
LA ROCHE. Answer civilly and I may show you mercy.
PRISONER. I neither ask, nor accept mercy. I have done my best to deal a crushing blow to you.—So call your guards, and shoot me without more waste of words.
LA ROCHE. I see that you are brave.
PRISONER. Brave? Because I'm not afraid to die? ”

“ Courage! All may yet be well.
[Exit DIANE. PAUL sits at desk wearily.]
Hateful humiliation!—to stoop in pleading for that already mine! But patience, Paul Kauvar; he is the father of the woman you adore.
DUKE. [Entering and advancing to PAUL.]
One word before we part, good friend. I thought to leave this house without farewell, but I cannot be so cruel. I have learned that this is no longer a safe retreat. I am forced to seek one safer.
PAUL. And where will you find one, Monsieur?
DUKE. I shall best serve you by keeping that a secret. ”

“ GOUROC. The same—who was therefore accused of being a Duchess in disguise, and sent to the guillotine.
MARDOCHE. Moral:—In this age of reason, death to him who prays!
GOUROC. Or keeps four cats! But cheer up, Citizen; I have a crumb of comfort for you yet. In your cell someone is waiting impatiently to see you. ”

“ DIANE. And I yield the right with pleasure, cousin Henri.
LA ROCHE. [Kisses her.]
Good cheer, sweet cousin! You are now protected by the soldiers of the King, who—God willing—will punish those who brought this shadow to your face.
GOUROC. That may not prove an easy task! Granville is overrun with rebels, who are urged to most atrocious crimes by Carrac.
LA ROCHE. Yes—Thomas Carrac—a brutal monster, reeking with loyal blood; a loathsome anarchist, who glories in the vilest deeds. ”

“ I, too, am proud, Diane, proud as all are proud to be who owe their manhood to their God and not to the favour of a king!—If your father scorns the sacred work of heaven's hand, then he is only fit for scorn himself. ”

“ General, you are our prisoner.
[To SOLDIERS.]
Comrades, to us—a squad of the battalion of the Bonnet Rouge—is due the glory of taking the leader of these Royalist Brigands!—Hurrah for our Battalion!
[All cheer.
VOICES. [Outside.]
Long live the Republic!
POTIN. [Looking off]
Bah! Here come the rabble—a crowd of anarchists!
GOUJON. Who never share the fighting.
POTIN. But claim all the glory fighting brings.
GOUJON. Curse these civil shouters!
SOLDIERS all groan. Cries of "Carrac! Carrac!" with cheers heard outside. ”

“ To what?—Your father's pride in the race from which he springs—the race whose iron rule for centuries stamped shame on honest labour—crowned infamy with honour—made gods of profligates and dogs of workingmen—ruining their wives—insulting their mothers—debasing their daughters, and sowing the seeds of madness in their veins?—Ah, Diane! when I face your father, 'tis not your husband who should blush for his race. ”

“ Halt!—He is our prisoner.
[The MOB recoil.
PAUL. [Flinging off his coat and hat.]
No! Not your prisoner! Your officer!—Captain on Kleber's staff:
Captain Paul Kauvar.
DIANE. [With a cry—quivering, incredulous.]
Paul!—Alive!
PAUL. Heaven is merciful at last!
[He takes her in his arms.
POTIN. By the gods, it is!—The Citizen Kauvar!
GOUJON. Then La Rochejacquelein has got away?
CARRAC. [Rising, to PAUL.]
If you are a soldier of the Republic, how is it we find you in the coat of a brigand?
PAUL. That's my affair, not yours.
CARRAC. What! You refuse to answer? ”

“ Commenting on the occasion, the Buffalo Courier said:
It was not as a playwright alone that his friends honour Mr. Mackaye. It may be said of him with strict justice that he is one of the few men of our day who have brought to the much-abused theatre the intelligence, the skill, the learning and the genius that it so much needs in an era of speculators and buffoons. He has always been able and willing to take the pen or the rostrum, whether at Harvard or at Steinway Hall, to expound the principles upon which he has so assiduously worked for the past fifteen years. ”