Gore, Catherine. King O'Neil. Ed. with an Introduction by John Franceschina. British Women Playwrights around 1800. 15 October 2000.
Act II
Scene 1
[An apartment at Count Dillon's. Enter the Marchioness de Clermont, and the Countess Dillon meeting.]
Mar.
You wished to speak to me, madam.Cou.
I am anxious to learn your intentions towards the Duke of Richelieu.Mar.
Intentions!Cou.
He has this morning proposed for you!Mar.
Proposed for me!Cou.
Ha! ha! ha! For you! It certainly was not for me he was likely to make proposals.Mar.
And my father accepted them?Cou.
With submission always to the pleasure of the King, whose wish will be to the General a command.Mar.
Without even consulting me! I know that my poverty is a burthen to him; but I know that he would not sacrifice his child from such a motive. My father has not affianced me to Richelieu.Cou.
It is your duty to spare him the alternative by appealing to the King!Mar.
True! I ought not to be an incumbrance on my father-my generous-my noble father!-by encroaching on his pittance. I am robbing the soldier's widow, the soldier's orphan. I will speak to the King! [Turns up R.]Cou.
[Aside.] All's well then, let me but accomplish an interview, her influence is established, and fortune our own.Mar.
Were I openly to demand a private audience, my father would guess my motives, and refuse to let me become a suitor to his Majesty.Cou.
Let all seem unpremeditated: as his majesty retires tonight from the ball, let him find us in the great gallery; he will not pass without addressing you. Solicit a few minutes audience-the gallery is obscure, to none other will you be known even.Mar.
Tonight! So soon? [R.]Cou.
The Duke of Richelieu is urgent in his suit; the General will lose no time in addressing the King-his desire expressed in Richelieu's favor-Mar.
And I am again sacrificed! It is too severe a fate!Cou.
Consider that your interests are those of your father. No excuses! No idle apprehensions! But away to your toilet![Going.] Summon up all your charms, and my life on your success! Expect me in an hour, to accompany you to the circle of the Queen!Mar.
I go, but still with a heavy heart!Cou.
The King will prevent your marriage with the Duke. Courage! And success! [Exeunt, Marchioness, R., Countess, L.]Scene 2
[The mess-room of the Royal Irish. A long table around which are seated eight officers: De Burgh at bottom of table; Arundel by his side; O'Neil seated opposite, at the head of the table. A fireplace, S.E.R., before which is placed a high screen, and over it the colors of the French King. Tables, with trays, decanters, bottles, salvers, glasses, &c., &c., near the flats, L. and R. Practicable door, occupying S.E.L., over which hangs the regimental standard of the Irish Brigade. Two mess Waiters in attendance, R. and L., at the side tables.]
All.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! Bravo! bravo!De B.
Excellent, O'Neil! Excellent! And now, gentlemen, our usual toast, and its accompaniment-"The land of our gallant forefathers!"O'N.
And of our gallant foremothers! [All drink.] I'll never omit the ladies. Honour to the name of a petticoat! Every glass one fills to it is as good as two.De B.
By making you see double, eh, O'Neil? But we have another toast, gentlemen, which must not be neglected! [Rises. All rise and fill.]O'N.
Is it absolutely necessary to stand?De B.
Absolutely, O'Neil! What ails you?O'N.
Oh, nothing particular.De B.
[Smiling at O'Neil.] I propose the health of his majesty.All.
The King! hip! hip! hip! hurra! hurra! hurra!O'N.
[Tipsy.] As the only representative of royalty present-All.
Oh! oh!O'N.
Is myself, gentlemen, one Phaidrig O'Neil, a poor trooper in the Irish Brigade, I'd be glad to know what king's health you're drinking? Is it the King of France, whose money you'll get when he comes to his fortune? Or the King of Ulster's, whose money you never did get, nor ever will get, for the best of all possible reasons-he never had any to give?De B. and the others.
Bravo, O'Neil. Ha! ha! ha! Bravo, O'Neil!O'N.
Speak out like true subjects. Is it Louis, or Leopold, or Charles, Edward, or George? Or is it your own natural born monarch, Captain Phaidrig O'Neil?De B.
O'Neil, aboo! Ha! ha! ha!All.
O'Neil! O'Neil! Long live King O'Neil!O'N.
Amin! Long may he reign over you, for a darlin' rebellious set of subjects as ever an O'Neil had to his back.De B.
You regard the reigning dynasties of Europe, then, as mere mushrooms, eh, O'Neil?O'N.
[Heated with wine.] And so would you, was it the blood royal of Ulster was coursing through your veins. Who ever heard, pray, of the Bourbons, and Hapsburgs, two thousand years back?All.
Ha! ha! ha! ha!O'N.
And wasn't the ancient Kings of Ireland, reigning with their gould crowns upon their heads, in glory, ages and ages afore the flood?De B.
When their crowns didn't happen to be cracked!O'N.
They were too busy breaking bright swords, and broad axes, to be troubled with breaking heads! Talk of chivalry, your golden eagles, and yer blue garters. By St. Dennis, and that's a big oath, the ouldest order of knighthood in the world is the royal Ulster order of the "Guardians of Jorus," and that same was flourishing in all power and glory, according to the best heraldic authority, anno domino, according to the Christian Era, one hundred and one.All.
One hundred and one! ha! ha! ha!Aru.
You despise such upstarts, then, as Charlemange, or your Bourbons; eh, O'Neil?O'N.
Seed, breed, and generation. Didn't Gol Mac Moruil's own cousin to Fin Mac Coul, bate the Danes to perpetual smithereens, when they became besaging him in his castle, in County Latrim; and wasn't himself own cousin ancestor to O'Neil, the King of Ulster? From whose noble stem, as you all know, I am a broken twig-a scattered leaf, blown from the parent tree, and left to wither on some foreign soil, and be forgotten! But no matter! No matter for that!De B.
[Aside to Arundel.] His humour is on him-the moon's at full-don't cross his mood.O'N.
By the powers! I'd rather be as I am, of the blood royal of Ulster, with a sword for my sceptre, than reign here at Versailles, over a set of spangled courtiers, and furbelowed dowagers. [Enter Usher, S.E.L.]All.
Bravo! O'Neil! Bravo! King O'Neil! Long life to King O'Neil!Ush.
[Delivering a sealed paper to De Burgh.] A dispatch from Cardinal Fleury.De B.
[Coming forward, with Usher on his R.] How, at this late hour?Ush.
You will perceive, sir, that his eminence's letter is superscribed "immediate."De B.
[Having read it.] A troop of horse! Doubtless to escort some state prisoner. It shall be ready.Ush.
What time, sir, do you require for preparation?De B.
Ten minutes to boot and saddle, and my men are at your service. [Exit Usher, S.E.L. Going up to table.] I have received pressing orders, gentlemen, and am under the necessity of saying good night![All rise and come forward.]
O'N.
Another glass, Major, just to lay the dust of the road afore ye. Another glass! [Detains Arundel.] Mister Fitzgerald, another glass! Boy! Parade! Some glasses! Fill full. [Waiters bring wine glasses, &c., on salvers, and all fill.]Aru.
I have just toasted the Irish Brigade, in a bumper.O'N.
I know you have. Ye're a fellow of the right sort, and now a stirrup cup to the Major!All.
The Major! [They drink to the Major.] The Major!De B.
And I have the honour, sire, to wish your majesty good night! [Kisses O'Neil's hand.]O'N.
I wish you many happy returns.De B.
Don't get into the guard-house. Extend your royal protection to my friend Fitzgerald; and let no man get more royally drunk under your authority. [To the rest.] Au revoir. [Aside.] Arundel, don't lose sight of his Majesty! now, for heaven's sake! [Exit, S.E.L.]O'N.
Go thy ways, Francis de Burgh! and he who says I have a better subject, deserves to be kicked out of my service.Mac.
And now a song from King O'Neil.All.
Aye, aye! A song! a song! a song!O'N.
Well, with all my heart! Doich an doriuish! and a song! [Sings.]Oh, why should I sing ye of Roman or Greek,
The boys we hear tell of in story?
Come match me for fightin', for frolic, or freak,
An Ulster man reigning in glory!
There's Ajax, and Hector, and bould Agamemnon,
Were up to the tricks of our trade!
But the rollikin boys for war, women, and noise,
Are the boys of the Irish Brigade!Chorus.
But the rollikin boys, &c.O'N.
What for should I sing you of Helen of Troy,
Or the mischiefs that come of her flirtin';
Sure there's Biddy O'Flanagan, pride of Fermoy,
Twice as much of a Helen-that's certain.
Then for Venus, Minerva, or Queen Cleopatra,
Oh! bad luck to the word, shall be said
By the rollikin boys for war, women, and noise-
The boys of the Irish Brigade!Chorus.
By the rollikin boys, &c.O'N.
What for would I sing ye of classical fun,
Of games, boys, Olympic or Partseon?
Sure the Curragh's the course, where the known ones done,
And there's Mallon that flogs for divarsion!
For fightin'! for drinkin'! for females and all,
No times like our times e'er were made;
For the rollikin boys for war, women, and noise,
Are the boys of the Irish Brigade!Chorus.
The rollikin boys, &c.All.
Bravo! bravo! bravo!Aru.
And now suffer me, in my turn, to propose a toast.All.
Aye, aye! A toast! a toast!O'N.
As many toasts as ever you please, so they be not dry toasts?Aru.
Here's the health of King O'Neil! [Kneels, L.]All.
[Kneeling.]The health of King O'Neil! Hurrah, hurrah! hurrah!O'N.
Now, ain't I a king? Any way I'd like to make that gentleman's personal acquaintance, who would dispute my regality at this moment. I'd measure him for a crown he'd find uneasy to wear; as Shakespeare, our Irish bard, beautifully expresses it-"Uneasy is the head that wears a crown!" So I'd let him know. Rise up boys, and keep on your legs, if it is quite convenient. I'll remit all taxes on pipe-clay; your tailor's bills shall be recepted gratis; and that'll be convenient to some o' ye, I believe! Your marchin' money shall be doubled! Ye shall have heaps o' fightin' for two-thirds o' the year, and free quarters for the remaining six months.All.
Bravo! bravo! bravo!Aru.
[To Officers.] I should be glad to see him safe at home. [To O'Neil.] Will your majesty permit one of your faithful lieges to escort you to your palace? [Officers go up, get their hats and swords, &c. One brings down O'Neil's and assists him on with it.]O'N.
Will I permit? Will a cat eat fish? Go before!Mac.
'Tis for your majesty to go before.O'N.
Never! when the liquor's behind me. That's a rule: Phaidrig O'Neil, first to advance, last to retire. Ask the boys.All.
Aye, aye, all true, your majesty.O'N.
Write it on my tombstone; and when I'm beneath it, let me hear any gentleman gainsay it, that's all.All.
Well, good night, your majesty! Good night, to King O'Neil!Chorus.
[Sing.] But the rollikin boys for war, &c. [Exeunt, S.E.L. As soon as they are off, O'Neil bolts the door and staggers forward.]O'N.
Whoo! I have got all my subjects on the wrong side of the door, and his majesty will try the window. It's only one story high, I think; however, I'll know better about it when I come to the bottom. Those boys want to lade their master into mischief. I'll shew them O'Neil's not a king to be led by his ministers. Here goes O'Neil, aboo! If I get to the ground with whole bones, I'll drive the world before me this night! [Staggers up to the window, opens it, and gets on balcony. A loud knocking is heard without, S.F.L. Cries of "O'Neil."]Aru.
[Without.] O'Neil! What keeps you? O'Neil! O'Neil!O'N.
Hark! The populace is getting impatient. No rioting, you villains!Aru.
[Without.] O'Neil! Come along! [Coaxing.] Won't you? Won't you come with your people?O'N.
Indeed I won't come. Familiarity breeds contempt. I'll make myself scarce, and my people will like me the better. Here goes! Luck's all! Look out below! [Drops from the window. Crash and screams heard from below. The door is burst open, and Arundel and Officers rush on in confusion.]Aru.
Where the devil is the king? [Cries without: "Murder! Stop him! Stop him!"]O'N.
[Without.] Who'll stop the king? Fague a Ballagh!Mac.
[Looking out of window.] 'Tis our royal master. The streets are full of persons of quality thronging to the ball. He has dropt on a sedan chair, and is off up the street in a gallop! Ha! ha! ha!O'C.
Drunk as he is, he's running like a greyhound.Aru.
We must follow and recover our mad king, or he'll get into some royal scrape! After him gentlemen! Follow! follow!All.
Ha! ha! ha! Follow the king! Ha! ha! [Exeunt L.]Scene 3
[Entrance to the Palace of Versailles by moonlight. The Palace illuminated. Two Centinels on duty. Enter the King and Richelieu, in cloaks.]
Sen.
Stand! Who goes there?Ric.
Friends.Sen.
The word?Ric.
Mantua!Sen.
Pass.King.
'Tis most mysterious! To propose an interview, induce me to quit the ball room; then fail to make her appearance.Ric.
Be assured, sire, the billet was addressed to you by Madame de Mailly.King.
To solve that question we have made enquiries at every entrance of the palace; yet you find no Duchess has presented herself. No, Richelieu, I have still hopes.Ric.
[Irritated.] As your Majesty pleases.King.
The lovely de Clermont may have been detained by the Queen-may still linger in the ballroom.Ric.
Let us return then, sire, let us return to the palace, and clear your doubts. Let us return to the fete. [O'Neil, singing, without, R.]King.
What means this strange tumult at the palace gates?Ric.
'Tis an Irish officer of the guard, returning from some carousal. [O'Neil, sings without; after the verse he enters, R.]O'N.
Whew! I'm mighty out of wind, as the bagpipes said to the hole in the bellows. I wish I'd a pair of infanty legs. [Sings.]Sen.
Stand! Who goes there?O'N.
A friend.Sen.
The word, friend-give the word.O'N.
Knockaeroghery.Sen.
That's not the word.O'N.
So much the better for you.Sen.
Stand fast. Give the word, or I fire.O'N.
Blaze away, and be damned. I'll hold ye two to one ye miss fire or miss me.Sen.
Once, twice-the word-or-[Presenting. Arundel enters hastily, U.E.R.]Aru.
Hold, for heaven's sake! Don't fire!O'N.
[Stopping him.] Fire and turf, would ye be after shooting the king?All.
The king!Ric.
[Coming forward.] The king! Why, what king are you?O'N.
King! King O'Neil, at your service. And you, as you seem a fine fellow, why I'll make you my lord of my bedchamber-my Jack in office-my knave. In fact, you shall be my Richelieu.King.
[To Richelieu.] 'Tis Dillon's crack-brained Captain, who fought so bravely at Phillipsbury.Ric.
[Aside.] Would he were there now.King.
The humor of the soldier diverts me. [Music heard within the palace, U.E.L. Piano.] Discover yourself to the centinel, and bid him offer no opposition to my representative, for such we'll make our brother king here. [Richelieu throws open his cloak, and discovers his blue ribbon to the sentry, who presents arm.]Aru.
His Majesty's guests seem to be making merry.O'N.
Not at my majesty's expinse, more luck to the treasury. Sure isn't it a murdering shame then, for the palace, here, there, and everywhere, to be guarded by a set of whiskered fellows, as big as Bryan Boru, with baggonets on their shoulders, and powdher in their pouches, and never a civil word in their mouths; instead of doors wide open, as in the rale ould ancient times of the King O'Neil, when every mother's son was welcome, so long as there was a turf on the hearth, or a bite and sup on the board, or a hap'orth in the bottle.Aru.
Times are altered. Times are hard.O'N.
You see, Fitz my boy, them ancient Kings O'Neil had never a meddling old woman of a Cardinal keeping them in leading strings, plundering them out of house and home like some I've heard tell of-but-mum!Ric.
You hear, sire!O'N.
Nor tinsel-and-buckram lords in waiting, my darlin', to throw away the coin o' the realm, at Ombre and Lasquenet, like others I've heard tell of; but mum-again.King.
You hear, Richelieu.O'N.
Nor old Duchesses of ladies in waiting, bedizened with diamonds and brick dust, to drive them out of their senses; but mum-again.Ric.
[To the King.] It were well if Madame de Mailly could profit by this lesson, sire.King.
I will accost him and promote this interview.Ric.
I entreat your Majesty to consider.King.
Nay, 'tis my pleasure. [Takes off his hat and respectfully addresses O'Neil.] Your presence, sire, is impatiently expected at your palace.O'N.
At the where?King.
At your palace, sire, your majesty is expected.O'N.
The devil I am! Where did he start from! Faith there's two of 'em, and two make a pair, as the devil said to shoe bucklesKing.
Is it your majesty's pleasure that your chamberlain should announce you? [Pointing to Richelieu.]O'N.
You are a mighty civil gentleman; he shall do that. [To Richelieu.] Be off with you, my fine fellow, and tell 'em I'm coming.Ric.
Sire, reflect-I-King.
Not a word! Do you not hear his majesty's commands?O'N.
Yes, don't you hear his majesty's commands? [Richelieu exits.] Hurrah! Come along, Fitz. Sure, ain't I acknowledged at last O'Neil, aboo! Every inch a king from boot to bonnet!-barrin' the best crown I've got to my head is a Connamara nightcap.Aru.
For the love of heaven, my dear O'Neil, recollect yourself.O'N.
Be aisy! Be aisy! If I recollect myself, I'll forget I'm a king, which everybody else seems to remember perfectly.Aru.
These strangers are making a jest of you.O'N.
Are they? I'll see how far their impudence will carry them. Get out of my way.Aru.
Retire to your quarters.O'N.
What! abdicate before my coronation? I scorn it! Bah! [About to enter the palace.]Aru.
Surely you're not thinking of-O'N.
Thinking! Is it thinking? A king to be thinking? What for do I pay my ministers? So begins the reign of Phaidrig O'Neil, of the fifty-first of the name.Aru.
One moment's deliberation.O'N.
Deliberate for yourself! See here! I'll make you my lord chancellor, and then you'll have nothing else to do but to deliberate.Aru.
What folly! I must, for the present, leave him to his fate! [Exit, R. Music. Re-enter Richelieu, Pages, ushers, &c., with lights, U.E.L.; they form a lane for O'Neil, who exits, followed by all but the King and Richelieu.]Ric.
Ha! ha! All is prepared for his majesty's reception.King.
Ha! ha! ha! You really fancy that Madame de Mailly intends me the honour of a visit?Ric.
I am certain, sire, 'tis her design to waylay you in the private passage, leading from the Salle de Mars to your own closet. Will your Majesty have courage to resists her tears?King.
I've too much policy to trust my courage. She evidently intends to surprise me with a parting scene, so faith she shall have the full benefit of it. Hark ye, Richelieu, see that the passage is completely darkened, let me be informed when a lady wants me, my Irish representative here shall be ushered towards the private apartments, and on him shall fall her whole battery of tears and reproaches. [Crosses to L.] 'Tis fitting, as he shares the honours, that he takes his portion of the penalties of royalty. Allons! Let him be humoured in the utmost. Summon the court-quick, or we shall lose our sport! Ha! ha! ha! [Music. Exeunt at gates, U.E.L.]Scene 4
[Vestibule of the Salle de Mars, at Versailles. Enter the Countess Dillon and the Marchioness, S.E.R.]
Mar.
His Majesty has not yet honoured the ball with his presence; Richelieu, too, is absent. Does the council sit to-night?Cou.
On the night of a ball at Court? Novice! [Looks back.] Ha! your father, bending his steps this way from the gallery!Mar.
My father! How unfortunate! My interview with the King is now impossible.Cou.
Then Richelieu will secure his sanction.Mar.
[Looking round eagerly.] Is there no way to evade my father's notice?Cou.
Yonder door opens to the gallery leading to the King's private apartments. [Points off, R.]Mar.
But on what pretext can I present myself to the page in waiting?Cou.
[Taking off a ring.] It will suffice to shew this ring; a signet given by the late king to your father, to grant him access at all hours to the royal presence.Mar.
[Taking ring.] It will insure admittance?Cou.
At every door of the palace. Go! [Looks back.]Mar.
Alone! I dare not seek the King alone.Cou.
Remain here then, my dear, and let Richelieu claim you tomorrow. The alliance is a noble one. I have no motive to oppose this suit.Mar.
Become the wife of the Duke of Richelieu? Never! [Going; aside.] Harry-my hopes-my happiness upon the hazard! [Exit, R.]Cou.
[Panting as if relieved.] At last! What a waste of eloquence to effect that which every other woman of the Court burns to accomplish-an interview with the King! Well, the first step is taken; now triumph the impoverished house of Dillon![Exit, L.]Scene 5
[Ante-chamber of the private apartments. On either side, a door, guarded by Pages. The King's chair, C. O'Neil, seated; the King attending him as chamberlain. A suit of Courtiers, Officers, etc., etc.]
O'N.
[Rises pompously.] Thanks, my good lords! thanks for loyal civility! [Familiarly.] I'd say as much to the ladies, only in this Court the faymale half of the craytion's wantin'; and in my mind, that half is more than the whole put together!King.
Your majesty's household, sire, wait your commands.O'N.
Let a dinner of superlative magnificence be prepared for tomorrow. [Familiarly.] Fish, soup, and patties-roasting pig, and everything illegant.Ush.
[R.] For how many guests, your majesty?O'N.
Is it for how many, spalpeen? For too many to be sure, of course! Am I such a skinflint as to count my company, like my troop horses?Ush.
But the table may be too full, your majesty.O'N.
Och, my honey! there never was an Irish table too full yet, while a single guest wanted a corner.King.
For how many nobles of the Court, sire, shall we issue invitations?O'N.
Not to a butterfly of them, I invite General Dillon, and as many as are left of the veterans who fought in the breach at Phillipsbury: and, for once, let the gallant fellows be nobly feasted, within the walls of the king they have bled for.King.
[To Usher.] You hear this order?Ush.
The Irish soldiery will doubtless be made welcome within the King's walls![Sneeringly.]O'N.
And why not, Powder Puff, why not? The Irish soldiers have made freer than welcome, within the highest walls that encircle the King's enemies.King.
Has your majesty no further commands?O'N.
Not at present, I'm intirely obliged to you. That's the civilest fellow among them, and very much of a gentleman. Stay, now I think on't, there's a big thief of a Cardinal, somewhere among the ministers.King.
[Embarrassed.] Sire-I-I-I-O'N.
Aye, aye, aye! I know he keeps your face to the grindstone; but the first time his Eminence comes with a full claw out of the pocket of the people, grip a hould of his wrist, and squeeze a big pension out of him for ould Count Dillon-too much of a soldier to be rich-too much of a gentleman to own himself poor.King.
Ha!O'N.
Ha! yes. Next, to Major Francis de Burgh, promotion to a regiment, and the cross of St. Louis. He won it fairly in the trenches of Phillipsbury.King.
Major de Burgh. Who is Major de Burgh?O'N.
Oh, ho! and who the devil's yourself not to know Major de Burgh? Och! the country is well served by you here. Not know Major de Burgh. Why where have you been all your life, man alive? To be sure it is not every man alive ought to know everybody that serves him, as well as the King, whose business it is indeed never to lose sight of bravery and merit.King.
[R.] Any other name suggested itself to your majesty?O'N.
[L.] Bushels o' names; but we must not make promotion chape. Stay, I'd almost forgot; give my-that is-I mean give Sergeant Major Dolan, B troop, second regiment, a cornetcy. I owe him that turn.King.
A Sergeant Dolan. Was his father a gentleman?O'N.
That's hard to answer for; but his mother was, I'll swear. She was a Finch, of Rathnaduddery- gentleman's blood for seven hundred years, anyway. There's not a man in the brigade will carry a standard farther, or kape it better, than Sergeant Dolan, on foot, or on horseback.King.
There's one name I would suggest, with your leave, sire.O'N.
What name is that now?King.
One Captain O'Neil, sire.O'N.
Who! who did you say?King.
Captain Phaidrig O'Neil.O'N.
I never heard tell of the fellow-don't know him from Adam. Where the devil now did you ever hear tell of his name? Eh?King.
It has become mentioned with honour in the Gazette, more than once.O'N.
Aha! Serve him right! it's more than he deserved. It's a royal old Milasian name that's on him any way. But I say, between you and I, the name is the best of that rascal, and I know him.King.
Your majesty surely accords him some mark of distinction.O'N.
Well, well, I'll consult my council o' war. Devil a man shall say that King O'Neil's charity begins at home.King.
Are we to understand then, sire-O'N.
Oh! bother-no more understanding or misunderstanding, my chancellor will tell you the rest-and where is my chancellor? [Goes up. Enter Usher, who whispers to the King, R.C.]King.
And closely veiled? 'Tis the Duchess de Mailly; bid her await in the small saloon. My representative shall hear her complaint-he shall legislate in her case. Ha! ha! ha! [Enter Richelieu, R.D.F.; Rafe attending with domino and mask.]Ric.
[Comes down C., bowing.] All is prepared for your Majesty in the private gallery.King.
Have the lights been sufficiently subdued?Ric.
They have, sire.King.
Permit us, sire, to escort you to the ballroom.O'N.
With all my heart, I love a dance. Allons!Ric.
Your majesty's domino.O'N.
Oh, aye!Ric.
Your mask, sire.O'N.
No, I don't need it; I'm not ashamed to shew my own face, or to look in the faces of my subjects. That's more than all kings can say, eh?King.
Very true, sire. This way.O'N.
A mighty civil man this, I'll do something for him before I go! Come, come, let's go and see the butler, I've got as dry as a cartridge box. Lade the way. [Richelieu marshals the way for O'Neil and the King, who exeunt ceremoniously, R.D.F.]Ric.
[As they exit.] Ha! ha! ha! The Irish trooper kings it, as rarely as the true King fools it. And now, sir, your business? Why did you pluck me by sleeve as I crossed the guard room?Rafe.
Strange news-rare news for your Excellency. You may remember, my gracious lord, how eloquently I represented to you the folly of sacrificing your noble person, and ignoble creditors, to the Irish widow.Ric.
[Impatiently.] Well, sir?Rafe.
Know then, my lord, know it with pain and grief, that-[Enter Arundel, L.]Ric.
[Surprised.] Your pleasure, sir?Aru.
I am in search, my lord, of a gallant officer of the Irish Brigade, whom you and others have made the sport of a frolic, that may lead him into serious trouble here.Ric.
Fear nothing. All that has been practiced on Captain O'Neil, has been by order of the King.Aru.
The King! Impossible!Ric.
His Majesty and his representative will be back here anon. You are at liberty to stay and witness the result. [Impatiently to Rafe.] Now what of the Marchioness de Clermont? [Arundel starts, and seems to retire.]Rafe.
[R.] While waiting with the domino your lordship ordered on the vestibule, I myself beheld the Marchioness enter from the ballroom, and take her stand within the door of the King's apartment.Ric.
[Aloud.] Alone?Rafe.
Alone.Ric.
Without a rendevouz, she would not have been admitted to that gallery. Are you sure it was the Marchioness de Clermont?Rafe.
Certain, the strong light from the outer door shone full on her as she entered. She is still in that dark gallery, waiting the passing of his Majesty, I imagine, my Lord.Aru.
Ha! [Points to the door of the private apartments, through which exit Arundel.]Ric.
So I have escaped the honour of bestowing my name and fortune-Rafe.
Fortune! say debts! [Aside.]Ric.
Upon the successor of the de Mailly. Richelieu, my friend, thy stars have better care of thee than thou deservest.Rafe.
The stars! the stars had left your Excellency to your destinies, had not your humble servant watched them and you.Ric.
The Marchioness! the prudish Marchioness. Dupe that I have been.Rafe.
Hush! my lord! her father. [Enter Count Dillon, L.]Dil.
[Cheerfully.] You have been missed, my lord, from the ball room. We looked for more alacrity in so gallant a lover. [Exit Rafe, R.D.F.]Ric.
[Coldly.]You did me much honour.Dil.
I had announced to my daughter that your lordship's homage would be laid this evening at her feet.Ric.
[Ironically.] Among the numberless votaries of the Marchioness de Clermont, 'tis unlikely that a suit, so humble as mine, should have obtained attention. [Takes snuff.]Dil.
Since when, my dear duke, have you been so diffident? Do you suppose I undervalue the honour of your alliance.Ric.
The honour? [Sneers.] Oh! pardon me! a poor noble of the realm-a simple subject, like myself.Dil.
A subject?[Regards him intently.] You are facetious, my lord duke! Reflect that I am past the age of jesting.Ric.
Indeed! allow me to condole with you! I mean to go laughing to my grave; this wicked world affords such food for mirth-ha! ha!-for scorn.Dil.
Again my lord! Have a care! This ill-timed merriment seems to connect itself to my daughter.Ric.
In truth my laughter is ill-timed! Matrimony is a serious business: and now that I am compelled to withdraw my pretensions to the hand of Madame de Clermont-Dil.
Decline my daughter's hand? You will have at least the courtesy to assign a cause for your change of sentiment.Ric.
To what end? Choose any cause you please! Suppose my affairs embarrassed, my creditors untractable, or say my humility prompts me to resign alliance with the house of Dillon. [Takes snuff.] Your daughter, sir, has soared too high above me.Dil.
[Aside, agitated.] Let not his insolence provoke me beyond my self control! Let me not-[Aloud.] Richelieu, if you are a man, speak out! no more of these hints, these black, these damnable implications! speak out.Ric.
Permit me to refer you, for an explanation, to the Marchioness your aspiring daughter.Dil.
Presume to name her in that tone again; and I shall forget the sacred place we stand in! She is my only child, my lord; good, virtuous, fair; I watched over her motherless youth. I saw her grow to womanhood, pure as the flower fresh opening into beauty! No cloud has ever rested on her name. Beware, my lord! A sneer from lips like yours is fatal. Beware! I am old; but when my only child is made a victim [Raising his arm.] there is nerve left here to-[Gasps.] Why do I suffer this thing so to move me!Ric.
Nay, Count, if you approve her assignations with his Majesty.Dil.
My lord.Ric.
Are you aware that this very hour the Marchioness waits yonder [Points to private apartment.] the homage of the King?Dil.
[Draws.] Defend yourself.Ric.
Not while those grey hairs-Dil.
You have insulted them; repair the injury! Draw, coward.Ric.
[Soothingly.] Count Dillon.Count.
Draw! or I will kill you where I stand.Ric.
[Draws.] Nay then to my defense![They fight. Enter the King and Usher, R.D.F. They are separated.]King.
Richelieu! What means this outrage?Ric.
[Putting up his sword.] Address yourself, my liege, to General Dillon; I drew but in self defense.King.
Is this your respect for the roof of your sovereign?Dil.
The Duke of Richelieu, sire, asserts, my child, my daughter, to be concealed in your apartments. Have I leave to prove the falsehood of this charge? [About to enter door.]King.
Stay! [Aside.] If it were true! The billet-my representative is now hearing her appeal.Dil.
Sire, my honour.King.
Richelieu is deceived, I fancy. There is a lady yonder, but 'tis the Duchess de Mailly who-Dil.
The Duchess de Mailly-so! You hear my lord! The Duchess de Mailly.Ric.
[Aside.] Could Rafe have so blundered?Dil.
Sire, you would not trifle with the fame of your oldest soldier's only child.King.
You shall be satisfied, Count. Lead forth the lady, now occupied with my representative. [Exit Usher, C.D.]Dil.
Thanks, sire! I'll answer for my Helena with my life. [Enter De Burgh, L.]De B.
On the part of Cardinal Fleury, sire-King.
What now? speak.De B.
I am charged by his eminence to acquaint your Majesty that, the Duchess de Mailly having been detected in an attempt to intrude herself under sanction of the Duke de Richelieu, she has been this night arrested, and is now on her way into Touraine.Dil.
Ha! What do I hear? [In great agitation.]Ric.
[Smiling.] Your Majesty, it appears, was mistaken in supposing the Duchess de Mailly to be your guest tonight.King.
This mystery is inexplicable! Can he be right?Ric.
I have to regret that the petulance of General Dillon should have rendered the whole court witnesses of your Majesty's good fortune.Dil.
I defy you, duke. Forgive me, sire, but my daughter's fame must not be thus vilely suspected.King.
'Tis just, my lord; you shall be satisfied of our faith. Lead forth the lady. Be she whom she may! [During these speeches, the Usher enters the private apartments, and leads forth the Marchioness, who unveils, surprised.]Mar.
The King here! To whom, then, have I pleaded?All.
The Marchioness de Clermont. [The Marchioness kneels to Dillon.]Dil.
[Throwing her off.] Out of my sight! Go! Quit this place, and hide your shame for ever! [Frantically to the King.] What have I done, that you should thus dishonour me? I who defended your infancy; I who could have served you with my heart's blood! Heaven pardon you! Heaven pity me that I should be thus wronged in my desolate old age-and by you!King.
Believe me, my General, I-Dil.
Your General! I disclaim the title, and your service! [Draws his sword and throws it at the King's feet.] I shall never see my gallant veterans more! this arm is nerveless now! [Sobs.]Mar.
[Whose face has been hidden in her hands.] Father! father! If you ever loved me, only hear me.Dil.
[Throwing her off.] Away! your voice is torture to me.Mar.
I have a witness; who if a true man will answer for my purpose with the King. Where is he? [Looking round.] I am innocent. Father, I am innocent. [Enter O'Neil, Arundel, Courtiers, &c., R.D.F.]O'N.
[Entering.] That you are-innocent as I am myself.All.
[On seeing Louis.] The king!O'N.
How well I'm known. One would think they'd seen my coronation! Now, General, you are welcome; you're the man of all others-I wanted to see you here.Dil.
What means this mummery, Captain?O'N.
It means, General, that your daughter here has been on her knees to me in the passage beyond where I could see my nose, and has asked me to intercede for your consent to her marriage with my schoolfellow there, Sir Harry Arundel, who had the assurance to pass himself on me for a Fitzgerald, tho' I knew the voice the moment I saw it.Dil.
My nephew, Sir Henry Arundel, a suitor to my daughter? Explain these mysteries.Arun.
Suffice it, my dear uncle, that they entail no disgrace upon you. Give me your daughter's hand, and you will confer on me an honour, kings might be proud of.O'N.
Spoken like a lover and an Irishman, and you shall have my vote.King.
[After a word apart with the Usher, comes down, C.] I see it all! The lovely Marchioness has made my representative her confidant. And now, O'Dillon, what excuse can you offer your King?O'N.
Aye, General, what can you say to your King?Dil.
[To the King.] Sire I confess my fault. [Bows.]King.
Be it expiated by your consent to the union of your children.O'N.
Hollo! My worthy friend, you're makin' over free here; not but I must own, you took the very word out of my mouth.Dil.
[Kneels.] Sire, may I hope for pardon.O'N.
Now I'm bothered! I say, do you help me out here: you seem to have the speechifying gift. Say something civil and kind to the ould General.King.
[Crossing to General, R.] Then let me say-the loyal service of fifty years must not be effaced by a single error-let me replace the sword, so long devoted to my defense [Taking off his sword.] by one that will acquire lustre in your hands. [Gives it. King raises Dillon. All go up C. He bows on the King's hand.]O'N.
Very well! My chamberlain seems quite easy in my office; does it as if he'd been used to it. Well, we'll all be king's in our turn, and turn about's fair play, as the devil said to the smoke jack. It's all right, but now where's my-[During this, the King puts on his hat and seats himself. All form a circle. Arundel and Marchioness kneeling.]King.
Versailles I find cannot longer sustain two monarchs. Either King O'Neil or Louis XV must now lay down the sceptre.O'N.
[Looks a moment, then kneels.] Och! Murder! King Louis himself, by the pope! I'll abdicate, and all the retiring pension I ask is-your gracious pardon. The reign of King O'Neil never before extended beyond our mess-room, and never shall again, for I find the affairs of a Court much too puzzling for any honest man.King.
Rise, my brave friend; this jest was of my own imagination, but the lesson I have received is yours. I herewith confirm, without reserve, all the just decrees of my honest representative which at once reprove, and repair my own neglects. Major O'Neil accept my thanks for-O'N.
Major! Captain O'Neil, sire, at your service.King.
In my service, Major from this hour, and with the cross of St. Louis. [Louis takes cross off his neck and puts it on O'Neil. Then brings him forward.] But, hark ye, Major, no more royal adventures-you comprehend?O'N.
[Kissing the King's hand.] Oh mum! I've abdicated entirely. By the powers, I feel I'm no longer a king, for I'm the happiest man alive-[Sings.] Bryan O'Lyn, hem!King.
[To Dillon.] Count Dillon, let the marriage of your fair daughter be solemnized in the royal chapel. I charge myself with the dowry of the bride. But some punishment is due here: Richelieu, you will this night quit Paris. [Looks at him. Richelieu kneels, L. corner.]O'N.
Will your Majesty allow me another word.King.
Oh, by all means, Major.O'N.
As your Majesty seems in the height of good humour and I seem in high favour, will you allow me to speak a word for Pilgarlick in the corner here.King.
Ha! ha! Richelieu approach. You have his Majesty's pardon. [Richelieu kneels and kisses the King's hands.]O'N.
Bless your royal clemency, may you live a thousand years, and I live to bury you, and now if the great Public will but imitate the example of the King, I shall be the happiest monarch that ever laid down a sceptre. For I shall fall back into the ranks of private life with the conviction that it will be written in history, and go down to my ancestors, that every man, woman, or child, was content under the reign of poor King O'Neil. [The King smiles assentingly. Richelieu kisses his hands. All form towards the throne bowing. Picture as curtain falls. Flourish of Courtly music.]The End.