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Full text of "Monsieur Jacques : a musical drama, in one act / by Morris Barnett, comedian, author of The yellow kids, Richard Turpin and Tom King,...&c. ; the only edition correctly marked, by permission, from the prompter's book ; to which is added, a description of the costume-cast of the characters, the whole of the stage business, situations-entrances-exits- properties and directions ; as performed at the London theatres."

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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. 


To which is added, 

Description op thk costcmk—casi of the characters, 

situations—entrances—hxits—proper ri rs and 


Honiron CTtjeatrcs. 

M orris Barnett, in the Character of Monsieur Jacques 









The Gift of 

0%c 0 ' He CL 

‘ nr* y 








<w . 


Mr. Sequence .... 
Monsieur Jacques 

Vivid . 

Antonio, .. 


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. 


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. 



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 



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 

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. 


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 


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! 


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. 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, 


m <le publique like very much noise. [He play: again, and 

* 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 ! 



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 


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 

Seq. Well, then, I consider the affair as arranged ; give me 
your opera, and you shall have the money. [Going towards the 

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 

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. 


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 


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 

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 



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 ? 



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" 


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 

Jac, \ raiment! c’est bizarre! very strange or rader very 
natural. She ave hear of my musique, and she come to take de 

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¬ 

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. 


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 ? 



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 

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 


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. 



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, 









Jae. Mais—tant mieux —all de better, madam. Vat a sweet 

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. 


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¬ 

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 .] 


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 ? 


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. 


Jac. (His agitation has greatly increased.) She .stand within 
his dungeon drear ? 


' 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.) 


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*—— 



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 

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 


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 

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. 


Sequence. Vivid Jacques. Nina. 

Printed John Dunuombe and Co. 10, Middle Row, Holborn.