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THE MAN FROM HOME

By

BOOTH TARKINGTON
AND
HARRY LEON WILSON

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM SCENES IN THE PLAY

New York and London
Harpers and Brothers Publishings

Published 1908

TO
WILLIAM HODGE

ORIGINAL CAST OF CHARACTERS

in

THE MAN FROM HOME

by
BOOTH TARKINGTON and HARRY LEON WILSON

PRESENTED UNDER THE MANAGEMENT OF LIEBLER & CO.

AT THE

STUDEBAKER THEATRE, CHICAGO

SEPTEMBER 29, 1907

WHERE IT RAN FOR A YEAR; THEN OPENED IN NEW YORK
AT THE
ASTOR THEATRE

AUGUST 17, 1908

CHARACTERS AND PLAYERS

TIME: THE PRESENT

PLACE: SORRENTO, SOUTHERN ITALY

ILLUSTRATIONS

[THE MAN FROM HOME]

["OH NO! SHE ACCEPTED ME"]

["YES, SIR, DANIEL VOORHEES PIKE, ATTORNEY AT LAW, KOKOMO, INDIANA"]

["THIS IS MR. ST. AUBYN"]

["THE NEW CHAUFFEUR FOR THE MACHINE, FROM NAPLES"]

["YOU'RE AFTER SOMETHING THERE ISN'T ANYTHING TO"]

["IVAN! DON'T KILL ME!"]

["MY FRIEND, THERE IS SAND IN YOUR GEAR-BOX"]

The illustrations are from photographs of scenes in the play made especially for the book by Mr. Luther S. White.

CHARACTERS

MEN

DANIEL VOORHEES PIKE
Of Kokomo, Indiana

THE GRAND-DUKE VASILI VASILIVITCH

THE EARL OF HAWCASTLE

THE HON. ALMERIC ST. AUBYN
Son of Lord Hawcastle

IVANOFF

HORACE GRANGER-SIMPSON

RIBIERE
The Grand-Duke's secretary

MARIANO
Maître d'hôtel

MICHELE
A waiter

Two carabiniere

A valet de chambre

Several Sorrentine musicians and fishermen

WOMEN

ETHEL GRANGER-SIMPSON

COMTESSE DE CHAMPIGNY

LADY CREECH
Sister-in-law of Hawcastle

[ACT I.]—The terrace of the Hotel Regina Margherita on the cliff at Sorrento. Morning.

[ACT II.]—The entrance garden. Afternoon.

[ACT III.]—An apartment in the hotel. Evening.

[ACT IV.]—The terrace. Morning.

The time is the present.

The scene is Sorrento, in Southern Italy.

[pg 013]

THE FIRST ACT

SCENE: The terrace of the Hotel Regina Margherita, on the cliff at Sorrento, overlooking the Bay of Naples.

There is a view of the bay and its semi-circular coast-line, dotted with villages; Vesuvius gray in the distance. Across the stage at the rear runs a marble balustrade about three feet high, guarding the edge of the cliff. Upon the left is seen part of one wing of the hotel, entrance to which is afforded by wide-open double doors approached by four or five marble steps with a railing and small stoop. The hotel is of pink and white stucco, and striped awnings shield the windows. Upon the right is a lemon grove and shrubberies. There are two or three small white wicker tea-tables and a number of wicker chairs upon the left, and a square table laid with white cloth on the right.

As the curtain rises mandolins and guitars are heard, and the "Fisherman's Song," the time very rapid and gay, the musicians being unseen.[pg 014]

MARIANO, maître d'hôtel, is discovered laying the table down R.C. with eggs, coffee, and rolls for two. He is a pleasant-faced, elderly man, stout, swarthy, clean shaven; wears dress-clothes, white waist-coat, and black tie. He is annoyed by the music.

MARIANO

[calling to the unseen musicians crossly]

Silenzio!

[MICHELE enters from the hotel. He is young, clean-shaven except for a dark mustache, wears a white tie, a blue coat, cut like dress-coat, blue trousers with red side stripes, brass buttons; his waistcoat is of striped red and blue.]

MICHELE

[speaking over his shoulder]

Par ici, Monsieur Ribiere, pour le maître d'hôtel.

[RIBIERE enters from the hotel.]

[MICHELE immediately withdraws.]

[RIBIERE is a trim, business-like young Frenchman of some distinction of appearance. He wears a well-made English dark "cutaway" walking-suit, a derby hat, and carries a handsome leather writing-case under his arm.][pg 015]

RIBIERE

[as he enters]

Ah, Mariano!

MARIANO

[bowing and greeting him gayly]

Monsieur Ribiere! J'espère que vous êtes—

[He breaks off, turns on his heel toward the invisible musicians, and shouts.]

Silenzio!

[He turns again quickly to RIBIERE.]

RIBIERE

[with a warning glance toward hotel]

Let us speak English. There are not so many who understand.

MARIANO

[politely]

I hope Monsieur still occupy the exalt' position of secretar' to Monseigneur the Grand-Duke.

RIBIERE

[sits and opens writing-case, answers gravely]

We will not mention the name or rank of my employer.

MARIANO

[with gesture and accent of despair]

Again incognito! Every year he come to our hotel for two, three day, but always incognito.

[He finishes setting the table.]

We lose the honor to have it known.

RIBIERE

[looking at his watch]

He comes in his automobile from Naples. Everything is to be as on my employer's former visits—strictly incognito. It [pg 016] is understood every one shall address him as Herr von Gröllerhagen—

MARIANO

[repeating the name carefully]

Herr von Gröllerhagen—

RIBIERE

He wishes to be thought a German.

[Takes a note-book from case.]

MARIANO

Such a man! of caprice? Excentrique? Ha!

RIBIERE

You have said it. Last night he talked by chance to a singular North American in the hotel at Napoli. To-day he has that stranger for companion in the automobile. I remonstrate. What use? He laugh for half an hour!

MARIANO

He is not like those cousin of his at St. Petersburg an' Moscowa. An' yet though Monseigneur is so good an' generoso, will not the anarchist strike against the name of royalty himself? You have not the fear?

RIBIERE

[opening his note-book]

I have. He has not. I take what precaution I can secretly from him. You have few guests?

MARIANO

[smiling]

It is so early in the season. Those poor musician'

[nodding off right]

they wait always at every gate, to play when they see any one coming. There is only seex peoples in the 'ole house! All of one party.[pg 017]

RIBIERE

Good! Who are they?

MARIANO

There is Milor', an English Excellency—the Earl of Hawcastle; there is his son, the Excellency Honorabile Almeric St. Aubyn; there is Miladi Creeshe, an English Miladi who is sister-in-law to Milor' Hawcastle.

RIBIERE

[taking notes]

Three English.

MARIANO

There is an American Signorina, Mees Granger-Seempsone. Miladi Creeshe travel with her to be chaperone.

[Enthusiastically.]

She is young, generosa, she give money to every one, she is multa bella, so pretty, weeth charm—

RIBIERE

[puzzled]

You speak now of Lady Creeshe?

MARIANO

[taken aback]

Oh no, no, no! Miladi Creeshe is ol' lady

[tapping his ears]

Not hear well. Deaf. No pourboires. Nothing. I speak of the young American lady, Mees Granger-Seempsone who the English Honorabile son of Milor' Hawcastle wish to espouse, I think.

RIBIERE

Who else is there?

MARIANO

There is the brother of Mees Granger-Seempsone, a young gentleman of North America. He make the eyes

[laughing]

all day at another lady who is of the party, a French lady, Comtesse de Champigny. Ha, ha! That amuse' me![pg 018]

RIBIERE

Why?

MARIANO

Beckoss I think Comtesse de Champigny is a such good friend of the ol' English Milor' Hawcastle. A maître d'hôtel see many things, an' I think Milor' Hawcastle and Madame de Champigny have know each other from long, perhaps. This déjeuner is for them.

RIBIERE

And who else?

MARIANO

It is all.

RIBIERE

Good! no Russians?

MARIANO

I think Milor' Hawcastle and Madame de Champigny have been in Russia sometime.

RIBIERE

[putting his note-book in his pocket]

Why?

MARIANO

Beckoss once I have hear them spik Russian togezzer.

RIBIERE

I think there is small chance that they recognize my employer. His portrait is little known.

MARIANO

And this North American who come in the automobile—does he know who he travel wiz? Does he know his Highness?

RIBIERE

No more than the baby which is not borned.

MARIANO

[lifting his eyes to heaven]

Ah!

RIBIERE

[looking at his watch]

Set déjeuner on [pg 019] the terrace instantly when he arrive: a perch, petit pois, iced figs, tea. I will send his own caviar and vodka from the supplies I carry.

MARIANO

I set for one?

RIBIERE

For two. He desires that the North American breakfast with him. Do not forget that the incognito is to be absolute.

[Exit into hotel.]

MARIANO

Va bene, Signore!

[Puts finishing-touches to the table.]

[Enter from the grove, LORD HAWCASTLE. He is a well-preserved man of fifty-six with close-clipped gray mustache and gray hair; his eyes are quick and shrewd; his face shows some slight traces of high living; he carries himself well and his general air is distinguished and high-bred. He wears a suit of thinly striped white flannel and white shoes, a four-in-hand tie of pale old-rose crape, a Panama hat with broad ribbon striped with white and old-rose of the same shade as his tie. His accent is that of a man of the world, and quite without affectation. [pg 020] He comes at once upon his entrance to a chair at the table.]

[MICHELE enters at same time up left, with a folded newspaper.]

HAWCASTLE

[as he enters]

Good-morning, Mariano!

MARIANO

[bowing]

Milor' Hawcastle is serve.

[Takes HAWCASTLE'S hat and places it upon a stool behind table.]

MICHELE

[hands HAWCASTLE newspaper from under his arm]

Il Mattino, the morning journal from Napoli, Milor'.

HAWCASTLE

[accepting paper and unfolding it]

No English papers?

MICHELE

Milor', the mail is late.

[Exit up left.]

HAWCASTLE

[sitting]

And Madame de Champigny?

[MARIANO serves coffee, etc.]

[As HAWCASTLE speaks the COMTESSE DE CHAMPIGNY enters from hotel. She is a pretty Frenchwoman of thirty-two. She wears a fashionable summer Parisian morning dress, light and gay in color, a short-sleeved little Empire jacket, and long [pg 021] gloves. She carries a parasol. Her elaborately dressed hair is surmounted by a jaunty Parisian toque.]

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[lifting her hand gayly as she enters, and striking a little attitude before she descends the steps]

Me voici!

HAWCASTLE

[half rising and bowing]

My esteemed relative is still asleep?

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[speaking gayly, with a very slight accent, as she crosses to a chair at the table]

I trust your beautiful son has found much better employment—as our hearts would wish him to.

HAWCASTLE

He has. He's off on a canter with the little American, thank God!

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[interjecting the word]

Bravo!

[She turns the hands of her gloves back and sips coffee, MARIANO serving.]

HAWCASTLE

[continuing]

But I didn't mean Almeric. I meant my august sister-in-law.

[He reads the paper.]

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[smiling]

The amiable Lady Victoria Hermione Trevelyan Creech has déjeuner in her apartment. What you find to read?

HAWCASTLE

I'm such a duffer at Italian, but [pg 022] apparently the people along the coast are having a scare over an escaped convict—a Russian.

MARIANO

[starting slightly, drops a spoon noisily upon a plate on the table]

Pardon, Milor'!

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[setting down her coffee abruptly]

A Russian?

HAWCASTLE

[translating with difficulty]

"An escaped Russian bandit has been traced to Castellamare—"

[Pauses.]

MARIANO

[awe-struck]

Castellamare—not twelve kilometres from here!

HAWCASTLE

[continuing]

"—and a confidential agent"—

[looking up]

—secret-service man, I dare say—"has requested his arrest. But the brigand tore himself"—

[repeating slowly]

—"tore himself"—What the deuce does that mean?

MARIANO

[bowing]

Pardon, Milor'—if I might—

HAWCASTLE

Quite right, Mariano!

[Handing him the paper.]

Translate for us.

MARIANO

[reading rapidly, but with growing agitation which he tries to conceal]

"The brigan' tore himself from the hands of the carabiniere and without the doubts he conceal himself in some of those grotto near Sorrento and searchment is being execute'. [pg 023] The agent of the Russian embassy have inform' the bureau that this escaped one is a mos' in-fay-mose robber and danger brigand."

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[quickly]

What name does the journal say he has?

MARIANO

[hurriedly]

It has not to say. That is all. Will Milor' and Madame la Comtesse excuse me? And may I take the journal? There is one who should see it.

HAWCASTLE

[indifferently]

Very well.

MARIANO

Thank you, Milor'!

[Bows hastily and hurries out up left.]

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[gravely, drawing back from the table.]

I should like much to know his name.

HAWCASTLE

[smiling, and eating composedly]

You may be sure it isn't Ivanoff.

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[not changing her attitude]

How can one know it is not

[pauses and speaks the name very gravely]

Ivanoff?

HAWCASTLE

[laughing]

He wouldn't be called an infamous brigand.

MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

[very gravely]

That, my friend, may be only Italian journalism.

HAWCASTLE