THE CAPTAIN.--"My friends, I have heard from the old postillion that a post-chaise will pass through this narrow road. You must stop it."
THE CAPTAIN.--"You, Pedro, must guard this defile. We, my friends, must away to the mountains." [p084]
(_The band disappears on the side to the court. Pedro remains alone for one moment. A monk enters front the garden side._)
PEDRO.--"Halt there; your money or your life!"
THE MONK.--"But, my brother, I am as poor as you are. Capuchins have no money."
PEDRO.--"What are those twenty-five golden louis I see in this purse? And the repeater that I see; I--"
(_Pedro attempts to rob the monk. The Capuchin falls on his knees._)
THE MONK.--"Mercy! If I go home without this money the superior will shut me up in a dungeon."
THE MONK.--"At least fire into the folds of my frock without wounding me, so that I can prove that I was attacked."
THE MONK, _springing upon Pedro, and stabbing him with a dagger_.--"Fool! You missed me, but I shall not miss you!"
(_He disappears on the court side; the captain and his band re-enter from the garden side._
THE CAPTAIN.--"No, he is bathed in blood. The monk has killed him. Let us pillage the monastery."
The curtain falls; the show is really over this time.
I went behind the scenes to ask the _impresario_ Bermont for the name of the author of this fine historical drama.
"I wrote it myself," he modestly replied. "I have a book [p085] of plays. I write them in the evenings, when they occur to me--recollections, ideas, anything. We also play _The Passion_, _The Temptation of Saint Anthony_, _Hell_, and _Geneviève de Brabant_. The book is very old, and has never been printed. We repeat it through over and over again. I also perform _Camilla Underground;_ or, the _Dangerous Forest_. But once in that piece the 'author's rights' found a pretext for coming in, but they did not recognize the piece; I had changed it all."
His wife stood near him whilst he spoke, leaning on his shoulder, tenderly proud of belonging to a man gifted with so much imagination.
If you should ever have an opportunity of examining the large volumes in which the Brothers Parfaict, the Des Beulmiers, de [p086] Monnet, and some other authors have scientifically discussed the origin of fair theatres, you will find that they have been always forced to contend against that hereditary enemy which the _impresario_ Bermont now calls the "author's rights," and which has borne different names in different ages.