_Eleanor._ Pride of the plebeian!

_Fitz Urse._ And this plebeian like to be Archbishop!

_Eleanor._ True, and I have an inherited loathing of these black sheep of the Papacy. Archbishop? I can see farther into man than our hot-headed Henry, and if there ever come feud between Church and Crown, and I do not charm this secret out of our loyal Thomas, I am not Eleanor.

_Fitz Urse._ Last night I followed a woman in the city here. Her face was veiled, but the back methought was Rosamund--his paramour, thy rival. I can feel for thee.

_Eleanor._ Thou feel for me!--paramour--rival! No paramour but his own wedded wife! King Louis had no paramours, and I loved him none the more. Henry had many and I loved him none the less. I would she were but his paramour, for men tire of their fancies; but I fear this one fancy hath taken root, and borne blossom too, and she, whom the King loves indeed, is a power in the State. Follow me this Rosamund day and night, whithersoever she goes; track her, if thou can'st, even into the King's lodging, that I may (_clenches her fist_)--may at least have my cry against him and her,--and thou in thy way shouldst be jealous of the King, for thou in thy way didst once, what shall I call it, affect her thine own self.

_Fitz Urse._ Ay, but the young filly winced and whinnied and flung up her heels; and then the King came honeying about her, and this Becket, her father's friend, like enough staved us from her.

_Eleanor._ Us!

_Fitz Urse._ Yea, by the blessed Virgin! There were more than I buzzing round the blossom--De Tracy--even that flint De Brito.

_Eleanor._ Carry her off among you; run in upon her and devour her, one and all of you; make her as hateful to herself and to the King as she is to me.

_Fitz Urse._ I and all should be glad to wreak our spite on the rose-faced minion of the King, and bring her to the level of the dust, so that the King--

_Eleanor._ If thou light upon her--free me from her!--let her eat it like the serpent and be driven out of her paradise!

The story of Nathan Hale might be made into a play with patriotism as its dominant idea, a close character study of Hale himself, or little more than a love story. Notice the way in which with Clyde Fitch the close of the acts steadily emphasizes the love story as the central interest. The first scene is in the school room where Hale is the teacher of Alice Adams.

(_Hale goes toward Alice with his arms outstretched to embrace her; Alice goes into his arms--a long embrace and kiss; a loud tapping on a drum outside startles them._)

_Hale._ The Tory meeting!

_Alice._ Fitzroy will be back. I don't want to see him!

_Hale._ Quick--we'll go by the window! (_Putting a chair under the window he jumps onto chair; then leans in the window and holds out his hands to Alice, who is on the chair._) And if tomorrow another drum makes me a soldier--?

_Alice._ It will make me a soldier's sweetheart!

_Hale._ Come.

(_She goes out of the window with his help, and with loud drum tattoo and bugle call, the stage is left empty and the curtain falls._)

The second act at Colonel Knowlton's house closes on Hale's decision to serve his country as a spy:

_Alice._ (_In a whisper._) You _will_ go?

_Hale._ I must.

_Alice._ (_A wild cry._) Then I hate you!

_Hale._ And I _love you_ and always will so long as a heart beats in my body. (_He wishes to embrace her._)

_Alice._ No!

(_She draws back her head, her eyes blazing, she is momentarily insane with fear and grief, anger and love. Hale bows his head and slowly goes from the room. Alice, with a faint heartbroken cry, sinks limply to the floor, her father hurrying to her as the curtain falls._)

This is the close of Act III.

_Fitzroy._ Look!

(_And he bends Alice's head back upon his shoulder to kiss her on the lips._)

_Hale._ Blackguard!

(_With a blow of his right arm he knocks Cunningham on the head, who, falling, hits his head against the pillar of the porch and is stunned. Meanwhile, the moment he has. .h.i.t Cunningham, Hale has sprung upon Fitzroy, and with one hand over his mouth has bent his head back with the other until he has released Alice. Hale then throws Fitzroy down and seizing Alice about the waist dashes off with her to the right, where his horse is. Fitzroy rises and runs to Cunningham, kicks him to get his gun, which has fallen under him._)

_Fitzroy._ Get up! Get up! You fool!

(_Horse's hoofs heard starting off._)

_Third Picket's Voice._ (_Off stage._) Who goes there?

_Fitzroy._ (_Stops, looks up, and gives a triumphant cry._) Ah, the picket! They're caught! They're caught!

_Hale._ Returning with Alice Adams on private business.

_Picket._ The pa.s.sword.

_Hale._ "Love!"

_Fitzroy._ d.a.m.nation! Of course he heard! (_Runs off right, yelling._) Fire on them! Fire! For G.o.d's sake, fire!

(_A shot is heard, followed by a loud defiant laugh from Hale, and echoed "Love," as the clatter of the horse's hoofs dies away, and the curtain falls._)

Act IV has a double ending: the closing of the love story and the execution. The chief interest thus far created for the audience could end with the parting of the lovers.

(_The soldiers sing the air of what is now called "Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms." Hale stands listening for the sound of Alice's coming. The Sentinel retires to the farther corner of the tent, and stands with arms folded, his back towards Hale. Tom comes on first, bringing Alice. As they come into Hale's presence, Alice glides from out of Tom's keeping, and her brother leaves the two together.

They stand looking at each other a moment without moving and then both make a quick movement to meet. As their arms touch in the commencement of their embrace, they remain in that position a few moments, looking into each other's eyes. Then they embrace, Hale clasping her tight in his arms and pressing a long kiss upon her lips.

They remain a few moments in this position, silent and immovable. Then they slowly loosen their arms--though not altogether discontinuing the embrace--until they take their first position and again gaze into each other's faces. Alice sways, about to fall, faint from the effort to control her emotions, and Hale gently leads her to the tree stump at right. He kneels beside her so that she can rest against him with her arms about his neck. After a moment, keeping her arms still tight about him, Alice makes several ineffectual efforts to speak, but her quivering lips refuse to form any words, and her breath comes with difficulty. Hale shakes his head with a sad smile, as if to say, "No, don't try to speak. There are no words for us." And again they embrace. At this moment, while Alice is clasped again tight in Hale's arms, the Sentinel, who has his watch in his hand, slowly comes out from the tent. Tom also re-enters, but Alice and Hale are oblivious.

Tom goes softly to them and touches Alice very gently on the arm, resting his hand there. She starts violently, with a hysterical taking-in of her breath, and an expression of fear and horror, as she knows this is the final moment of parting. Hale also starts slightly, rising, and his muscles grow rigid. He clasps and kisses her once more, but only for a second. They both are unconscious of Tom, of everything but each other. Tom takes her firmly from Hale, and leads her out, her eyes fixed upon Hale's eyes, their arms outstretched toward each other. After a few paces she breaks forcibly away from Tom, and with a wild cry of "No! No!" locks her hands about Hale's neck. Tom draws her away again and leads her backward from the scene, her lips dry now and her breath coming in short, loud, horror-stricken gasps. Hale holds in his hand a red rose she wore on her breast, and thinking more of her than of himself, whispers, as she goes, "Be brave! be brave!" The light is being slowly lowered, till, as Alice disappears, the stage is in total darkness._)

The second ending merely connects the play more closely with history.

_Colonel Rutger's Orchard, the next morning. The scene is an orchard whose trees are heavy with red and yellow fruit. The centre tree has a heavy dark branch jutting out, which is the gallows; from this branch all the leaves and the little branches have been chopped off; a heavy coil of rope with a noose hangs from it, and against the trunk of the tree leans a ladder. It is the moment before dawn, and slowly at the back through the trees is seen a purple streak, which changes to crimson as the sun creeps up. A dim gray haze next fills the stage, and through this gradually breaks the rising sun. The birds begin to wake, and suddenly there is heard the loud, deep-toned, single toll of a bell, followed by a roll of m.u.f.fled drums in the distance. Slowly the orchard fills with murmuring, whispering people; men and women coming up through the trees make a semicircle amongst them, about the gallows tree, but at a good distance. The bell tolls at intervals, and m.u.f.fled drums are heard between the twittering and happy songs of birds. There is the sound of musketry, of drums beating a funeral march, which gets nearer, and finally a company of British soldiers marches in, led by Fitzroy, Nathan Hale in their midst, walking alone, his hands tied behind his back. As he comes forward the people are absolutely silent, and a girl in the front row of the spectators falls forward in a dead faint. She is quickly carried out by two bystanders.

Hale is led to the foot of the tree before the ladder. The soldiers are in double lines on either side._

_Fitzroy._ (_To Hale._) Nathan Hale, have you anything to say? We are ready to hear your last dying speech and confession!

(_Hale is standing, looking up, his lips moving slightly, as if in prayer. He remains in this position a moment, and then, with a sigh of relief and rest, looks upon the sympathetic faces of the people about him, with almost a smile on his face._)

_Hale._ I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country!

(_Fitzroy makes a couple of steps toward him; Hale turns and places one foot on the lower rung of the ladder, as the curtain falls._)[31]