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A MUSICAL VRAM A,
IN
&rt.
By MORRIS BARNETT, Comedian,
Author of The Yellow Kids, Richard Turpin and Torn King
The Spirit of the Rhine, The Bold Dragoons, Mrs. G —,
The King and his Crojiey, Tact, §c.
THE ONI.T EDITION COKRKCTLY MARKED, BY PERMISSION,
PROM THE PROMPTER'S HOOK!
To which is added,
Description op thk costcmk—casi of the characters,
THE WHO LB OP THK STACK BUSINESS,
situations—entrances—hxits—proper ri rs and
DIRECTIONS.
A? PERFORMED AT T.iE
Honiron CTtjeatrcs.
EMBELLISHED WITH A FINE PORTRAIT
M orris Barnett, in the Character of Monsieur Jacques
LONDON:
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. BUNCOMBE & CO
10, MIDDLE ROW, HOLBORN
THE
UNIVERSITY
OF
WARWICK
LIBRARY
The Gift of
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DRAMATIS PERSONiE.
Mr. Sequence ....
Monsieur Jacques
Vivid .
Antonio, ..
2V7«a..
Mr. Strickland.
Mr. M. Barnett
Mr. Selby
Mr. Hollingsworth
Miss P. Horton
Scene— Dovor. #
First performed at the St. James’s Theatre, January 12th, 183&.
Time in Representation—I hour 0 minutes.
COSTUME.
Monsieur Jacques—Old black smal's. grey worsted stockings, ratber
duned, slippers, dark waistcoat, grey woollen .doming gown, bon
grey wig, shirt collar open.
Sequence —White trowsers, stockings, and shoes, light vest, brown eoa?,
white neckerchief.
Vivid—Dnrk trowsers, blue coat buttoned up,hoots, black hat, g^ves.
Antonio—Black smalls ami stockings, shoes with buckles, black vest,
browu straight cut coat stick, Joves.
Nina—A handsome, but plain, white dress, bonnet, Jsc.
»
MONSIEUR JACQUES.
SCENE.— An Attic . Door I . H. leading to another Room. A
Door R. H. Window in V, through which is seen a view of the
Sea. A Pianoforte L. H., upon which is scattered loose sheets
of Music (MS ) and a full score. A n old bookcase in flat
R. H. f containing a few odd volumes, and printed music, A
small Table and buffet—some Chairs, one or two of which are
bottomless. The whole scene wears the air of extreme poverty.
At the rising of the Curtain a knocking at Door R. H, ; after
which, enter SEQUENCE, R. H. door.
Seq. ( Putting his head in at the door.) I suppose I may come
in?—eh! the orchestra empty? Madam, follow your leader.
Mind the stairs ; this way, I am used to act as conductor —this
way, [j Enter Nin*, R. h. door.] 1 am really very sorry you
should have to mount four octaves —I mean four stories high.
Quite a bit of luck to have had the honour of meeting you last
night at Signora Squeakini’s concert. Would it be taking a very
great liberty to ask if you are musical ?
Nina. ( R H.) I have studied music from my infancy.
Seq. Bravo! then the affair, f trust, is settled ; you really
must take my apartment—I am perfect master of every instru¬
ment—am principal kettle-drum at the Dovor Philharmonic ;
and though I say it, I have produced some works.
Nina. I am aware that the public is already indebted to you
for several channing ballads ; the one sung last night was
singularly beautiful.
Seq. Oh, what my * Azure eyes?' You have not yet seen
my * Radiant locks?’ The young amateurs prefer ‘ My faithless
bride’ though I think very little of that one myself.
Nina. I believe this is the apartment you intend for my
servant ? From what you said, 1 supposed it much larger ;—
indeed, Antonio is rather a friend, than a servant.
Seq, You have not seen all, madam ; there is another, much
larger and more commodious. I intend to have them both fresh
papered ) cherubim* blowing trombones—quite charming, if
MONSIEUR JACQUES.
c
your servant is musical. [Goes towards door. L H.] Perhaps
you would like to see the other room r [Tries the door — finds
it locked.] Dear me it's locked ! [Peeping through the key¬
hole.] Not up yet—at this time of day too; forty bars rest.
A lazy old fellow, madam ! but I’ll soon rouse him.
Nina. Do not disturb any one, I beg; I can call again.
Seq. There is no need of ceremony with him—he’s a horrid
bad lodger—owes three quarters’ rent. [Crosses to R. H.]
Nina. (Going towards piano, l. h.) A musician ?
Seq. Yes—um ! a sort of musician—a poor devil! He used
to give lessons, but it wouldn’t do—his pupils found him
rather cracked —so he very soon lost the few he had. Bless
you, he will sit for hours at that window as though he expected
the arrival of some vessel: he fancies he sees it sailing to¬
wards him—rushes down stairs in 6-8 time and watches the
face of every passenger as they come ashore ; then, disap¬
pointed, his head drops, and he wanders back to this wretched
furnished room. The furniture is his own, madam.
Nina. Unfortunate being!
Seq. You perceive there is no necessity to— [Going towards
door, l. h. ]
Nina, Hold, sir ! [*S7ie stops him. ] your story of the poor
old man has much interested me: he must not be turned out
on my account. [»SAe goes to piano, and look at the loose
music.]
Seq. Well, madam, if you do not wish him to go, your
servant can occupy the other room; there is another lodger
on this floor: he’s a poet, but unfortunately as destitute as
the other.
Nina. ( Who has been looking at a sheet of music.) This
is very strange! Why this is the ballad that was last night
sang at the concert!
Seq. (Confused.) My ballad ! Oh, yes, yes—it is my
ballad. You see. from motives of charity, I frequently give
this poor devil my music to copy. [Nina goes up — Aside.]
The old fool has kept the original—I thought I had them
both. I'll take better care for the future. [Footsteps heard.]
I think I hear your servant.
Enter Antonio, r. h. door.
Nina. (Coming down c. to Antonio .) Have you made any
discovery ?
Anta. (Aside to Nina. R. H.J It is of that I wish to tell you.
Nina* I engage your apartmenis, and will ta-morrow take
possession. Come, Antonio. [Crosses to R. H. as they are.
MONSIEUR JACQUES. 1
going, Vivid enters at door, l. ii. rapidly, with a sheet of
paper in his hand ; he does not perceive them.]
ViruL My dear friend, here is the finale ! [Aces Nina.] A
thousand pardons, madam.
Nina. (Aside.) Again, this young man !
Viv. As I live, my incognita!
Ant. (r. c. to Sequence.) Who is that person?
Seq. (l. c.) Oh, he’s the olcl man’s fellow lodger ; [To
Nina.] the poet, of whom I spoke to you.
Nina. If I mistake not; we have met before ?
Viv. Yes, miss—madam—on the beach.
Ant. Come, madam, we have much to do. [Goes to door
R. H.]
Nina. Yes, let us begone.
Seq. Allow me, madam ? [Crosses £or. H. door.] I’ll conduct
you down ; take care of the step—this way, madam, if you
please. [Sequence ^oes out first —Vivid bows timidly to Nina,
who curtseys and goes out, followed by Antonio, r. h. door.]
Viv. She here ! in the humble apartments of my poor friend.
What could have caused this visit?—perhaps like a guardian
spirit to succour him. I dared not even look at her. [Runs
to window.] What, if I follow, and ascertain where she resides?
no, no, it would be worse than folly. I will leave my finale
and seek one more glance, though I feel ’tis madness !
(Exit hastily, door r. h.
Enter Jacques at door, r, h. —he is absent and pensive—his
arms folded—he walks about the stage slowly—suddenly
rushes to the window — returns—throws himself into a
chair—sighs despondingly — rises, and draws from his
bosom a small note. Music.
Jac. (Reading.) “ Pars fuis ! mon cher Jacques; je volerai
sur tes traces aussitotque je pourrai; bier.totnous nous rever-
rons.” ( Repeats without reading .) “ Go, fiy away ! my dear
Jacques ; I will be upon your heel as soon as I am able; soon
we shall see one anoder again !” Here is twenty years ago dat
she has write this, and she has not yet arrive !—de age, or
rader de deep suffering, have ride mon visage—ruled my face
wid lines, and she has not yet arrive! (He kisses the letter .)
Ah, dese are not de light words to be break—“ I will be upon
your heel as soon as I am able.” Have she not been able yet
to be upon my heel ? Mais, I am tranquilled—elle viendra !
Ah, oui—yes—she shall come, becose she know dat I expect
her dis twenty years. ( He folds her letter carefully, and places
it in his bosom.) Mariana ! chere Mariana! let U3 to look once
S MONSIEUR JACQUES.
again. [ Goes to window .] Rien ! noting but de boat of de fish-
man. [Returns.] Ah, it shall not be no more to-day dat I strain
my eye. Mais but deinain—to-morrow, peut etre~yes, I do
expect her to-morrow, to morrow!
AIR—JACQUES.
Dat word wic.b console us, * To-morrow' to morrow!'
He bring wid him hope when he come to de heart,—
Mariana ! my wife ! come and banish my sorrow !
And j:»'i ais—non ! never again shall be part !
When, day after day, I feel life away wasting.
And dishand, vich vas fort, tremble now more and more-
Now, my hair it is silver’d—no happiness tasting—
Still ‘ to morrow* I vispare—but soon ’twill be o'er.
Allons, allons! let me drive far away from me dose ideas,
f Goes to piano ~ sees paper that Vivid has left .] Qu’est-ce que-
c’est ca ? vat is dis ? Ah, my finale. A la bonne heure. Vivid
have already been here ; he are so good boy—he not had wish
to wakes me [Reads paper.]
•* Sound the clarion, strike the drum !
War her flag of courage waving—
The warriors cry—“ They come ! they come ! ”
Patriot hearts all danger braving !”
Tres bien, it is capital! and my inusique is a capital also. This
night, pendant le silence, when all was hush X compose ray
overture ; and the motion vich it make me prove that my
musique is handsome. Apres my dejeuner, after my breakfast
1 shall compose dis finale [Opens buffet.] Mon dieu, I forget
— il n’y a plus rien ! dere is noting no more leave. [Shuts
buffet.] Ah! e’est vrai, it is true,— I remember, I eat yesterday
for my sou per the little bit fromage—the cheese that remained
me Never mind, it is already late, and the morning will soon
be finish. Tinking of my opera, 1 shall forget my stomach :
let me see—voyons le premier vers ; dis is de first verse.
“ Sound the clarion, strike the d’unMi”
[He rushes to the piano, and arranges the loose sheets—begins to
play, trying several motions to the above words .J
Enter Sequence, r. h. door.
Seq. (r. h.) Ah ! there he is composing, and composed. He
may keep this little room, for by taking a trifle off his rent, I
can have as much of his music as 1 want, which I can publish
under my own name, as I have done before. Frie.id Jacques !
Jac. (l. h.— absorbed.') Dis is a triumph march — I must
have an accompaniment of eight horns, six trompettes, five trom¬
bones, and four long drums. I don’t like him myself—mais,
MONSIEUR JACQUES. 9
m <le publique like very much noise. [He play: again, and
*ings,]
* Sound the clArion I strike the drum
Seq. Friend Jacques!
Jac. (Still singijig.)
Seq, (Louder .) Good morning, Mr. Jacques !
Jac. Ah ! c’est vous, Monsieur Sequence; [ Comes forwatd.]
bless a my soul, it am you. You have come by chance on pur¬
pose to carry away wid you the two romance ?
Seq. Why, not exactly ; but I can take them at the same
time. [Jsirfe.] Now to open the concert. The fact is, I have
come to say -
Jac. Oh, oui, yes,—mais—but je suis bien fache, I am sorry
very much great deal, but I have had no time—de musique in
not ready—I was malade yesterday—very sick—bad of de head
-—oh, very—I was oblige to a good hour, to go to my sleeps.
Seq . (Pointedly .) I suppose then you were playing after you
were in bed ?
Jac. Comment ?
Seq. You were composing ?
Jac. Oh, no; I was snoring my nose, like one bassoon.
Seq. Oh! then I suppose you got up in your sleep, and
hammered away till two this morning ?—hem !
I Jac. Comment ? [-Embarrassed.] till how many ?
Seq. Till two.
Jac. Den you have hear ?
Seq. A most charming overture.
Jac. Ah, ah ! den you have find him good—eh ?
Seq. It’s a masterpiece ; is it Mozart or Rossini ?
Jac. Non monsieur, it was my own 1 [Then, with a confiden¬
tial air.] Ecoutez ! ray opera is at last finish — c’est mon over¬
ture que vous avez entendue—dat was my overture yitch you
have hear.
Seq. Really ! [Aside.] I couldn’t have believed it.
Jac. I have now no more to do as de finale. [He plays with
his fingers, while he sings.']
* Sonnd the clarion ! striae the drum !
On battle field, aey cry—We corne !
Seq. (Aside.') An opera —an opera ! Now, if I could but
manage it, it would set all Dovor by the ears ; I’d have it pro¬
duced in London. I should be called upon the stage—praised
by the press—my portrait litbograped, and as I walked in the
streets, people would point at me, and exclaim, *• There goes
the celebrated Sequence!'’ Zounds ! ii’s worth the trial !
10
MONSIEUR JACQUES.
Jac. ( Absorbed .)
“ On battle-field, dey cry— f We come !*’
Pram ! Pram ! Pram 1
Seq. It’s a pity that this opera, the fruit of your talent, and
your old age, should be entirely lost.
Jac. Lost! and what for shall it. be lost ?
Seq. Because, my worthy friend, vou can't have the slightest
hope ever to see it performed—it’s without the pale of reason.
Jac , Vat is dat pail ?
Seq. You doubtless intend to present it to one of the metro¬
politan theatres ? You must be aware that you could not com¬
mand attention.
Jac. Et pourquoi que non ?—and what for not ? Is it because
my costume announce de want and de pauvrete ?
Seq. Alas 1 my friend, it is but too true : it is hard—cruel!
but believe me your opera will die with you.
Jac. How ! my opera shall die wid me ? Non, non ; je tc
dit, it shall immortalize my name for a long time, never no
more. Idy opera die vid me—de labour of my old age—all
gone away, for noting at all,
beq. There might, to be sure, be a plan to get it performed—
but you wouldn’t listen to it.
Jac. I not listen ? dites moi—tell to me—oh, parlez—speak !
Seq. Well, then, since you are willing to listen to sound
sense, I will speak—the true artiste is above being caught by
the llatteries of the world—he is sufficiently recompensed when
he hears his opera performed ; as to the rest, it’s all fiddle-de-
dee !
Jac. Yes, but what has my opera to do vid dis fiddle dee?
Seq. I am coming to that directly. Now, taking it for granted
that your opera will never see daylight—rather than it should
be lost, I have no objection to buy it of you, in the same way
that 1 have bought the rest of your music, and I will undertake
to get it produced.
Jac, Sell my opera? Oh, jamais—never!
Seq. Oh, very well, perhaps when you think over it you’ll
change your mind Good morning. [Going, R. H. — returns .]
ff riend Jacques, I have your interest more at heart than you
hink : I am considered a great composer—I am rich—an opera
mm me would be received and produced at once. Now, what
does it matter if it comes before the public in the name of Jac¬
ques, Timkins, or Tomkins. You will have the satisfaction of
hearing it ; you shall have a front seat in the dress boxes—the
theatre will be crammed; the leader’s tap is heard—an awful
MONSIEUR JACQUES. ll
silence mgns around, until the last crash is buried in the shouts
and bravos of an astonished and deafened audience 1
Jac. ( Delighted ,) And I shall see all dat ?
Seq. I have said it. Give me but the MS. and I’ll give you
a receipt for your arrear of rent, for the various other sums
which you owe me—and further, a twenty pound note.
Jac. Twenty pounds ? And I shall see act my opera?
Twenty pounds ! I shall be able wid it to reward Vivid for all
dat i.e has done for me.
Seq. Well, you agree ?
Jac. (Hesitatingly.) Eh bien ! Nous verrons—we shall see.
Je ne dis pas non—I not say no—I not say yes ;—you are so
hurry.
Seq. Well, then, I consider the affair as arranged ; give me
your opera, and you shall have the money. [Going towards the
piano.]
Jac. (Goes up and seizes the score.) Vat, you will take my
opera toute de suite ? so very by-and-by. Non, non, pas encore
—not yet. [To his opera.] And shall you leave my house so
soon ?—for five year, every day, every hour you have calm my
despair ; rest near to me a little longer, before I say you my
last adieu !
Seq. Well, I have no particular objection to leave it a little
longer with you ; and in the meantime, I’ll draw out your
I receipt, and get your twenty pounds, [ Goes to door — returns.]
But remember, not a word—the usual secrecy.
Jac. Oui, oui—yes! [Sits at piano, buried in thought.]
Enter Vivid, R. H. D.
Seq. Well, Mr. Vivid, have you any money for me yet?
Viv. I have not, but I hope very soon to have some, and
then -- —
Seq. Very soon ! the old put off. I have been too patient—■
too liberal, but you’ll hear from me. [ Crosses to R. H.} Good
morning, sir. Jacques, remember ! [Exit at door, R. H.
Viv. f‘ Hear from me !” but I cannot think of him now—
brighter visions fill my soul. My efforts to overtake her were
vain
Jac. (Absorbed at pianoi) Twenty pounds ! dat will take me
to Palerme—to Palerme • dat I may see her once again before
to die. [Rises.]
Viv. (Sees him.) Poor old man. Palerme ! ever repeating
tl at word when his reason forsakes him.
Jac. Twenty pounds and la gloire ! [ Comes forward, I.. H.]
Viv. His visions are ever of fortune and happiness. Jacques
my friend.
12 MONSIEUR JACQUES.
Jac. (Rising,) Ah, Vivid, c’est vous et bien ?—quoi de nou¬
veau—vot news ?
Hv. None to comfort. I had hoped bj the sale of my second
volume to have obtained at least the means of alleviating our
present distress - but the bookseller has refused to purchase.
Jac. Vat a rascal fellow—ven de verses are so handsome !—■
rr.ais, console yourself, mon ami for 1 have some beautiful news
for you.
Viv. (Aside.) How unfortunate I IIow to ascertain her
address ?
Jac. Qu’avez-vous done? Vot is de matter? You am been
for dis last two, tree days, tout triste, and dull and absently —
and 1 am of it beginning to be very fidgets.
Viv. Nay, ’tis nothing.
Jac. I am sure dere is someting on de top of your head —I
have remark it—you have always confide your evils to your old
friend—vat is den now ? am 1 no more your confiance — am I no
more your friendship ?
Viv. Banish such thoughts — you are my only friend ! I have
striven to hide all from you—but ’tis vain ! my brain burns
while I confess my insanity !
Jac. You make me frightful—depechez done — tell to me vat
is it.
Viv. 1 love ! without hope - madly love !
Jac. Quel horreur ! You love ! Malheureux !
Viv. Oh, if you knew how beautiful she is ! Twenty times
have I met her in my solitary walks ;. her eyes have encountered
mine—I have deeply drank of their fascination Yesterday,
while roaming despondingly on the beach, my soul fi led with
visions of her elysian brightness — a voice out-rivalling the music
of the blest arrested me .fudge, oh 1 judge my rapture !—those
verses were mine — mine ! Drunk with ecstacy, 1 exclaimed —
“ Happy the poet, thus able to dim that beaming eye with the
holy tear of sympathy !’’
Jac. He also de victim of love ! [Sinks into a reverie.]
Viv. Judge my astonishment, when, bringing your finale, I
found, in this room, my incognita in conversation with Se¬
quence. You do not listen!
Jac. Love! < h, my friend, beware of it! And more, for the
grande dame—de rank lady—Oh, Vivid, prenez y garde! I
have never speaks you of moi maine—of myself—of de days dat
are over. 1 ou ave always seen me poor and old, and you have
takes me by hand widout to know me—it is time dat you shall
be more acquaint vid de hisloire of your poor old friend. Seat
MONSIEUR JACQUTS. 13
yourself near to me. [Vivid brings forward two chairs . They
**?•] It is a triste histoire—a story that is melaucholick—hat
it will be lesson to you.
Viv. Nay, if it pain you—[//e draws his chair near tc
Jacques.!
Jac. (After having seemed to collect hit thoughts ) I was not
born to have de happiness, for iny moder die ven I vas a vary
little boy—good vile ago. I ave evince de talent for de inu-
sique—and my fader encourage it ; at nineteen year old lie die
also—vidout to leave me much money, An opportunity offer
himself to go into Italy—and I take hold of him. I go to Pa-
lerme. Palerme! Palerme ! Ah ! my brain burn only at de
I souvenir of dat cite.
Viv Compose yourself, Jacques.
Jac. It vas at dis time I did acquaintance make vid de Count
i San Marco—man proud, and rempli d’hauteur 1 He appoint me
de teacher of his daughter. Oh, my friend! how was she dif-
; ferent to her fader! not thing so beautiful ever struck my eye —
she vas von angel ! she vas de beau ideal—you cannot see her von
times vidout to love her: —et moi ! and myself! while six
months, I am go every day to give her de lesson. I do not
i know how it vas, because my passion made me almost mad !
| mais—one night, we were alone —1 found myself at her foots—
I confess my love—she did not seeks to fly away from me—for
. Heaven—de bon dieu—have mark our two souls for de love and
i de unite.
i Viv- You were happy ?
Jac. Happy! I vas almost to mad. Mais, one night—oh,
my friend, one dreadful night a knock came to my door : I say
to de knocker, entrez !—a female, wid a veil, present herself —
it was Mariana. “Jacques,” she say to me, “my lader vish to
sacrifice me to a marriage detestable—but I am haiienne, and I
love you ; let us this night flyaway—a vaisseau go from here to
England—come!—viens ?” How happy dat I vas you can
link—we went to part—we reach de sheeps—de signal to depart
j s gi ve —I press Mariana to mv heart—de tear of joy trickle in
h er e ye — we sail for two days —hut vat is den dat sheep dat cut
the wave and ride wid speed behind us? [He rises and seems
to shevj Vivid the sen, which he imagines he sees before him, and
i towards which he moves his hand , imitating the motion of a vesve/*]
Tiens, Vivid! — see you her?—as she giido on de sea' she
make approach—she is here— la voila ! [A pause. ] Mariara
make a shriek, and fell senseless—it is de count ! it is her
fader ! and his soldats !—dey arrest me in de name of de grand
C
•j4 MONSIEUR JACQUES.
due—dey tie my hand—dey carry me back toPalerme, and trow
me in de prison—l am try — I am accuse of de seduction—I am
condemn—you understand, Vivid — condemn—to de galleys ! to
the galleys ;
Viv. Gracious powers ! And how did you escape ?
Jac. One night de door of my prison opens —somebody seize
my arm, and conduct me through the dark—place in my hand a
purse, and a letter—cette lettre, mon ami, this letter! [Takes
letter out and reads.] “ Go, fly avay ! I will be upon your heel
as soon as 1 am able.” Eh bien, I vas transport avay. Here
is de gap in my histoire—dere is tree year of which I know
noting. I remember, dey puts great deal of waters on 1113 ' head
—puis, one morning, dey tell me to go avay from the hopital,
where I ave been. I was alone in de vorld—I struggle on to
give de few lessors, ven Heaven send you near to me. Oh, my
friend, the bon dieu was good, for vidout you I should be dead !
[He lays his head on Vivid’s shoulder, who dashes away a tear.]
Viv. (After a short pause ) And you have never since heard
of your Mariana ?
Jac. Jamais, never! While I was jeunne homme, a young
man, 1 expect her as a wife. Mais a present, I look to see her
as a dear friend—a sister! for she is now old like me. But,
I know it 3 she vill come, she vill come ! Attendee ! [He goes
vj) and watches at window, and looks anxiously out , 1 .. H.J
T iv. And this is what I am to expect 3 affection without
hope! Mariana loved him ; that thought has been the balm to
heal his laceiated heart 1 must cease to think of her 3 she can
never be mine. Absence is my only safeguard : the situation of
cleik to a vessel tor South America has been offered to me 3 it
will leave the docks to morrow —what if I accept it ? [Turns
his eyes towards Jacques ] And can I then abandon him'' Oh,
no! never! [Enter ANTONlo, r. h. door.] Again! [Goes
up c.] L
\ lt ‘ This is the room. Does Monsieur Jacques live here?
[Vivid touches Jacques and points to Antonio.]
Jac. C est moi, monsieur ; it is me. [Coming forward ]
Ant } ou ! [Crossing to centre, and looking at him with in¬
terest.] Monsieur Jacques, my mistress requests to speak with
Jac. (t. H.) To me?
Ant. (c ) She wishes to know if it will he
you to see her to day ?
convenient
for
Jac. Oui, yes, certainement; whenever she likes to please.
* Then she will come to-day 3 she will come. Heaven
b’ess you sir ! [He hows.] Antonio, door"
MONSIEUR JACQUES. 15
Jac, Those words ; dat man ! I have seen him somewhere.
Viv. (Comes down R. H.) He is the servant of my incognito.
Are you aware that this young lady has been here once before
to-day?
Jac, \ raiment! c’est bizarre! very strange or rader very
natural. She ave hear of my musique, and she come to take de
lesson.
Viv. Possibly.
Jac. (Gaily.) In all de case, my dear boy, dis is not but
some good for me. Mon dieu ! vat a figuration I look. You
must lend me a coat; dat little chesnut coat.
Viv. Willingly ; I’ll fetch it for you. ( Crosses to L. H.) You
will soon learn who she is. [Asia’e.] Still will I keep my re¬
solve, and banish myself for ever. [Exit door, L. H.
Jac. Quel malheur ! vat misfortune! dat de blanch isseuse—
de washwoman—ave not brought home my cravat: it is always
so ; ven you not vant den dey come, and on de grandes occasion
dey stops avay. To be sure, I ave only two ; so ven one is
dry de oder is wets. Never mind. [Goes about stage , dusting
chairs, Sfc, with his handkerchief .] Dis visite have produce a
very singular effect upon me. Suppose she should be riche, as
Vivid say, I shall perhaps to be able, par sa protection, to pro¬
duce my opera. Oh, quelle joie it vill be to see my opera per¬
form ! no, I vill not never part with him.
Enter SEQUENCE, R h, door.
Seq. (r. H.) I hav’nt been long, you see. Now, touching
the overture I made to you this morning.
Jac. (L. H.) Your overture ? It is my overture.
Seq. I mean the proposal which you agreed to. I have
brought you the money, and a receipt in full of all demands.
Jac. Ma foi, it is true! A fine note, new all over, and a re¬
ceipt.
Seq. Take them, my friend, they are yours, and, though I
have the reputation, you will be a man of note.
Jac. Non 1 grande merci ! I shall not take them, parce que,
becose I ave change my mind.
Seq. What, you want more money, I suppose— Crescendo in
your demand.
Jac. Non, I won’t want none—I won’t let my opera go away
at all.
Seq , Mr. Jacques, be careful—I am not a man to be trifled
with. Remember, you owe me three quarters’ rent, and it isiu
my power to turn you into the street.
Jac. I know it.
16 MONSIEUR JACQUES.
Seq. To seize jour goods, and sell them und( r jour nose 7
Jac. I know it. C’est vrai—it is true. l'ou can do all dis,
but jou cannot tear from me mj opera from under my nose..
You maj throw me avaj out of jour house—eh, bien, I must
looks anoder. I shall not complain, so long as remain me my
opera and my piano.
Seq. 1 shall sell that with the rest of the rubbish.
Jac. You will sell my piano 1 Qu’avez vous dit la ? What
you have say ! sell my piano ! You do not Know dat six year
it has support me in all de misere de most affreuse—when for
day to day I ave noting to eat. Ah, dat astonish you. You—
you dat ave de superfluity, while depauvre musician often vant
a morsel of bread. Dat astonish you ! In de midst of dat
vant, dat misere, and dat hungry, I have forgot all—all—be-
cose of my piano—and you have de heart to sell it ? 'Fake my
bed—sell him ; but leave to me—oh, leave to me my piano.
Seq. Pooh, nonsense—it shall go. [ Going towards piano]
Jac. ( Stopping him.) I am old and feeb’e, but Heaven will
give power to this aged arm , but should that arm fail to me, it
must dat day kill me ;—but 1 vill never lose my hold 1 [He
rushes to the piano in despair—sinks exhausted—presses his
head with his hands—looks round wildly ] Ah—where lam?
In Falerme ! Hush !
Seq In one of his paroxysms again.
Jac. (The orchestra plays the air of the piece — he listens.) —
It is a sheep dat glide upon de vater: she is come at last—I
fly to see her—Mariana ! Mariana ! \He rushes off R. H. D.
Enter VlVID, with a coat L. H. D.
Viv. ( Not seeing Sequence.) Here, my friend, is the — I beg
pardon, I have brought poor Mr. Jacques —
Seq. Some money ?
Viv. No a coat which I promised to lend him. [ Places it
on a chair. L. H.]
Seq Very strange that you can afford to lend coats, and not
pay me your rent. This day I have made up my mind, either
to have my money, or you both go.
7 in. Turn the old man out! Impossible! Y'ou do but jest
—so violent a procedure———
Seq. I dare say you 11 make a speech about humanity, and
luen talk very poetically about pity. I don’t pretend to under¬
stand it. A man can t understand everything I am contented
to be acquainted with the sound of music and money.
Viv. 1 oor Jacques ' without a home 1 left to perish—to be
cast upon the cold world—and feeble ! How much is the old
man indebted to you ?
17
MONSIEUR JACQEES.
Seq. Fifteen pounds.
Viv. (Aside ) Fifteen pounds! and they cfTered to advance
thirty. In accepting it I save my poor triend, for some time
at least, from want. [To Sequence, haughtily ] Mr. Sequence,
you will not dispose of a single article.
Seq, And, who, pray, will prevent me?
Viv. I. Before the evening you shall he paid to the,utter¬
most farthing.
Seq. Thede/il 1 and I shall lose the op^ra. [Aside.] But
you have so often promised, I would advise you to keep your
word.
Viv. Le ave the room !
Seq Turned out of the orchestra! Take care sir, you keep
your time.
Fir. Begone! Sequence, R. H. n.] And now to
perform a last duty to poor Jacques. It is an act which will
not only solace him, but will enable me to drive her loved image
from my mind ! She will soon be here. I dare not see her
move, or farewell to my resolution.
Nina (Without.) Remain without, Antonio. He will,
doubtless soon return.
Vix. Heavens ! she is here. Escape is, then impossible !
[Goes up.]
Enter Nina, r. h. d.
Nina. (Looking anxiously about ) Everything in this wretched
apartment interests me. [tSces Vivid.] His 1'iiend ! I am de¬
lighted to hnd you alone, Mr Vivid— 1 am anxious to have
some conversation respecting your friend, Monsieur Jacques.
kix. Of Jacques !
Nina. A circumstance of importance has induced this visit.
I* it not to be feared that any unexpected news may be too
much for his reason ?
V v. The evident interest you take in my poor friend—par¬
don, dear madam my curiosity, but it is dictated alone by the
deepest sympathy with the misery and poverty which he en¬
dures at his age, to be reduced to the most fearful privations —
Nina • Gracious heavens ! is it possible ? [Agitated.] Is it
come to this? Antonio! [Antonio appears at R. H. o. She
whispers him who disappears ha tihj ] Be satisiied, sir ; I have
both the will and the means of serving your friend.
Viv. It is kind—ve.y kind, madam ; but I shall this day
have the means. Heaven has unexpectedly sent them.
Nina, Your noble, your disinterested conduct does honour
to your nature. [Goes up. j
Jg MONSIEUR JACQUES.
Viv. My conduct ! [Aside.-] Now is the moment, or all i«
lost I will fly to the captain, secure my papers, and pay this
heartless landlord [To Nina.] Pardon, madam but an affair of
importance obliges me thus rudely to leave. Tis Jacques I
wiH leave you. Farewell, madam, for ever ? [Exit R., H. D.
Kina. I dread to see him ! Heaven grant me fortitude tor
the melancholy task—and should all effort to save him be una-
. i n i i 1 I _ 1 _ I ... .. f n /t n n rr An t Of
II) e IUeidUtUUIJ lO-on. V* l /*
> ailing, 1 will consign myself to the holy calm of a convent s
alls,"andforget for ever my mountain heme.
SONG-NINA,
PALERMO’S BELL.
When last 1 heard Palermo’s bell.
How deep and hallowed was its power—
How sweet each tone the tale did tell,'
Of bridal joy. and death’s dark hour!
But forced to roam.
From kindred home,
I sighed a last farewell—
To sun-lit bower,
And golden flower.
And dear Palermo’s Lell!
With listless eye that land Is seen.
For far off lands my bosom burn’d.
Yet sighed to leave that long lov’d scene—
Still early memory fondly turned.
But visions bright.
As the fire-fly’s light,
Of hope and peace doth tell—
For o’er each dale.
And hill and vale,
Shall sound Palermo’s bell 1
[At the end of Song Nina retires up, R. H.
Enter Jacques, r. h d.
Jac. (Not seeing her ) Again 1 come back alone. (Sees coat.)
Ah, ah, de coat of Vivid—ais lady vill soon come.. [He tci
about to take off his coat, when he sees Nina.] All, raon dieu—
la voila ! dere she am, and I ave not ave de time to—inille
pardons, madam — to receive you in dis negligee of de morning.
Nina. It is I rather who should apologize for this intrusion,
Jac. Comment, madam ! [Aside.] What a interest she are !
Give yourself de pain to sits down, [He hands Nina a chair,
with a broken seat, but instantly changes it.) Maintenant, will
you descend to instruct me of de motive of your visit ?
Enter Antonio, r. h. D.,with a tray , covered, decanter , glasses,
Sfc. which he lays on the table.
Nina, The business which has brought me here will oblige
aia to remain with you a very long time,
MONSIEUR rACQUES.
ID
I
i
s
ii
ii-
o;
Jae. Mais—tant mieux —all de better, madam. Vat a sweet
®ye—
Nina. And fearful that, did I not come early, I might not
find you at home, I did not take breakfast.
Jac. Oh dat always makes bad—you should not—jamais,
never go vidout your breakfast—it is always my system.
Nina I have therefore taken the liberty to desire my servant
to bring it here. I hope you will not only pardon me, but will
partake of it with me.
Jac. Madame -
Nina. We can, during the time, talk upon the subject that
biought me here. [7'o Antonio, who has arranged the table.]
Bring the table down.
Jac. 1 shall obey you.
Ant. Pardon me, sir—that is my duty [ Brings the table
down . j
Jac. ( Who has pulled up one of his stockings , and buckled his
breeches .) Mon dieu ! Madame, I am quite confuse. [^side.]
Vat a pity it is not to be better decorated.
Nina. Pray be seated. Leave us, my good Antonio.
[ Exit Antonio, R. H. D.
Jac. It is only to obey you, madam, for I am already taking
someting, and l am no great appetite. [Aside ] What a large
fibs, [He looks at the table with voraciousness. She sits and
eats a little to encourage him , [Aside^] If dat poor Vivid was
here, he vould also ave a breakfast—but he is always out of de
vay ven anyting extraordinaire happen. [He cats ravenottsly —
she fills his gla<s with wine.] You are too good, madame. [Aside.]
Vine! vat it is a long time dat I ave it not taste. [Ifiuiks.]
Dis, too, very good cotelette—a capital shop—very handsome
vine ! I assure you, madame, dat I do not ave vine upon my
table alvays—tings are not in a flourish wid me.
Nina. And have you not tried to better your circumstances ?
Jac. Very often—several times. Ven I ave present myself
to ave de pupils, dey say, ‘ vous etes trop vieux’—you are too
old. Alors, den, I go to de maison of de poor old peoples —
what you call de working house—and dey say, ‘ vous etes trop
jeune’—you are too young—so I find dat I am of an age most
embarrassing. What a raagnifique pate—what a capital lark*
Now, madame, am I able to know vat ave procure to me de
honneur of your visite ?
Nina. (Aside.) Heavens! how to break it to him ! You
must know that I am an entire stranger here—’tis now two
months since I quitted Italy.
20 MONSIEUR JACQUES,
Jac. ( Moves suddenly.) Italy ! You caine from Sicily ?
Ntna. A passion for music predominated from my earfiert
youth, 1 employed the most distinguished masters, and wai
making rapid progress when circumstances obliged me to aban¬
don my studies and come to England. This morning chance
conducted me here —some pieces of music which I happened
to see on your piano gave me the highest opinio* of your ge¬
nius——
Jac. Ah, madame—your compliments flattre me.
Nina. (Rising.) I would become your pupil.
Jac. (Rismg ) It shall give me pleasure to teach you as well
as my poor abilitie shall permit, I do not know why, but I
cannot help to take an interest in you. Dites moi, ma chera
madame—vidout doutyouave already compose several tings?
Nina. As yet I have not attempted anything beyond the
merest trifles; yet there is one I snouid like you to hear, but
that I fear to take up your time.
Jac. Comment done ! it will be to me a great happiness. I
only regret dat my piano is such a poor bos.
Nina. (Crossing.) 1 tremble! The subject of the romanoe
founded upon fact—it really happened. The scene is Sicily*
Jac. (Agitated.) En Sicile ! [He regains his composure.]
Nina. Listen ! [She watches all his emotions .]
romance!—Nina.
A noble’s daughter loved to madness,
.4 stranger youth of low degree.
They wed—(but 'tis a tale cf sadness
Told throughout all Sicily )
( With surprise.) Told throughout all Sicily ?
The sire pursues the truant maiden.
And soon, alas I his steps they hear.
The south is cast, with irons laden.
Within Palermo’s dungeon drear.
(Starling.) Within Palermo’s dungeon drear ?
Nina.
Still cheer thee youth.
She watches thee I
Believe her truth.
She’ll set thee free.
Jac. (Looking fixedly upon Nina.J Vat means dis row
Nina, Listen to the second verse.
Dread surrounds him, gloom is o’er him.
Life to him no more is dear—
When soon a mantled form before him.
Stands within his dungeon drear.
MONSIEUR JACQUS. 21
Jac. (His agitation has greatly increased.) She .stand within
his dungeon drear ?
Nina.
' Fly ! thy path is free from ilan^er,'
Cries the maid, nor crie« in vain.
'This purse—this lotier, take—in stranger
Climes wo soon shall meet again!’
Jnc. We soon shall meet again 1 ^iua. as if to calm his
(tyitation, turns the song gaily.)
Nina.
Now cheer thee youth.
She watches th*-e—
Believe her troth.
She sets thee iree !
Jac. (Seizing the arm of Nina, draws from his bosom the
letter.) Dis letter—look—see — it is here—here! Cette his*
toire—dis histoire —it is mine! De prisonier is me—de
daughter of de noble is Mariana. You know her ? Speak—
speak ! it is Mariana who ave send you to me, n’est oe pas ?
She vill come herself? Oh, say me—sav me, dat she vill
come? She has me promise. Oh, speak ! You reply not—
you turn away your eye !—one word—one single word. Ven
shall I see her again ?
Nina. (Impressively.) Never—never!
Jac. Never ! Oh, mon dieu ! Never ? Den she is—tell
me not. [ Puts his hand before her mouth.) Dead—inort! [His
head sinks on his bosom—liis phrenzy returns ] Hark ! do not
you hear de sound of de bell ? Stand avay—do not make so
much noise—bow can she die if you talk ? [ZJe looks up silently,
as if in prayer.]
Nina. Nay, be calm : bear me, I entreat.
Jac. Mariana comes to me no more; vat I have to do here
now, but to die? [JETe weeps, his hands clasping his face ]
Nina. His reason returns.
Jac. Dead ! vidout to have seek to see me only once. [.He
tears the letter which he throws down ]
Nina. Accuse her not. She would have forsaken fortune,
rank, parents, countr\ r ; but after your (light she was closely
guarded, and her life melted away in tears.
Jac (Picks up the pieces of the letter, and carefully puts them
into his bosom ) Pardon to her memory! Pauvre Mariana—
she was den very unhappy ?
Nina. Oh, yes — and loved you. She at length sncceeded in
obtaining the means of flight 3 all obstacles were removed*——
MONSIEUR JAOOOE8,
22
Jac, And what prevent her ?
.1Vina, She died, giving birth to a daughter.
Jac. Grand dieu! and dis daughter? where, where is she
fc-where is my daughter —my child ?
Nina. My father ! [She falls on her knees before Jacques.}
Jac. C’est toi ! Oh, yes—my heart tell me—ma fille—my
child—ma chere enfant! [He presses her in his arms.] Ah, if
you know how you look like her. Ah, now I not more wish
to die !
Nina. Calm yourself, my father.
Jac. ( Raising her up.) My child—my daughter— mine !
Ah, how she is tall—how she is beautiful ! Oh, if dis shall be
an illusion! Ma pauvre tete is so weak : I am not derange—
not mad, am I ?
Nina. No, no. Dear father, it is indeed your child, who
will never again leave you—who will soothe your grief into
happiness!
Jac. Oui, yes. [S7otuZy.] We will yet speak of her.
Nina . And now away with want, away with poverty. The
Count is no more—I am rich ; you are rich, my father.
Jac. Riche—can it be ? Eh bien, tant mieux ! not for me,
but for him who has support and suffer wid me—my good
Vivid. Oh, he is a good boy ! You do not know what a
generosite—what a fine heart he has ; no son could have do no
more for me. Oh, how he will be astonishment!
Enter Sequence ivith a letter , R. H. door.
Seq. My dear Mr. Jacques, I have come to tell you .. —
Jac. Dat I must go avay from your logeraent. Oh, very
veil, I shall leave your ugly garret-room.
Seq. On the contrary, I’ve come to say that you may stay
as long as you please. I’m paid !
Jac You are paid ? [Looks at Nina.]
Seq. This letter will explain. [Reads.] “ Enclosed is the
amount my dear friend Mr. Jacques stands indebted to you. I
will call and pay your demand on myself in an hour. I sail for
South America to-morrow, and——”
Enter Vivid, r. h. door.
Jac. ( Running to and pressing his hand.) Ah, men ami—let
me shake you.
Viv, (Aside.) She still here!
Jac. How ave you got all dat money ? Mais ce n’est rien ;
tanks to dis angel, I ave no vant nothing. Dis beautiful lady
—dis incognita, dat you often speak to me about— she is ma
fille—mv daughter—my child !
Viv. (Aside.) His daughter l
MONSIEUR JACQUES. 23
Seq. His daughter ! There goes his head agaiu.
Aina. ( Taking the hand of Jacques.) He speaks the irulh—
1 am his daughter.
Seq. Is it possible !
Jac. Yes, it is possible, Mr. Lodging-house, [To Vivid.]
Now we go all three to be happy.
I Viv. Alas ! it is now too late.
Jac. Comment—too late ! It never shall be too late. And
could you think to leave me, when you know dat Mr. Sequence
was go to turn me out of his house ?
Seq. Bless you, I respect genius too much—I am too fond of
i music. ,
Jac. Oui—yes, so fond of de musique, that you vill take
avay my piano ? [To Vivid.] And you have sacrifice every ting
for me.
I Viv. I see you rich and happy—I have now no tie to biud
ine here.
Jac. But it is now my turn to make you happy. Vat 1 you
! ave no tie to bind you here? Yen I shall be older, who shall
support me, eh ?—has she de strength—dat dear child dere ?
Vid dis arm [Shewing his left ] I can lean on her ; inais, but
dis toder arm ? Ah, tu n’as plus rien a faire ici ?—you ave no
i more tie to bind )ou here?
A ina. Mr. Vivid, you must not leave us—you will not go ?
Viv. ( Taking Jacques’ right arm.) Dearest lady, if you
command-
Jac, Ah, voyez vous ca—how he is obedient to her' I
remember—inais, inotus—I shall say nothing now—but by-
i and-bye, presently, 1 shall speak vid both of you. [To Se¬
quence J Monsieur Sequence, you perceive I am not dispose
to sell my opera, becos for you see i am riche.
Seq I am delighted at your prosperity ; I am sure I hope
your opera will succeed. [Aside.] I’ll go the first night and
s hiss it !
Jac. Yes, I am riche. [ Looking at Nina and Vivid, then
comes forward.] To night, in the midst of my sorrow, I tought
I hear (rom every side voices cry, “ lirava !’—“ tres bien !”
Mais malheureusement 1 my head ave been some time derange,
and perhaps I av^ only suppose dese things. Am 1 mad?
Did I dream dat you was please, and satisfy ? Oh, assure me
dat it vas not the raving of poor monsieur JACyUEs.
DISPOSITION OF THE CHARV TEKS AT THE
FALL OF THE CURTAIN.
Sequence. Vivid Jacques. Nina.
Printed John Dunuombe and Co. 10, Middle Row, Holborn.
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