[APPEND I X.]

THE MASSACRE:

TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH.

A TRAGEDY OF THREE ACTS.

PRELIMINARY.

THIS play was suppressed, though printed, before publication, in deference to political opinions, which we do not absolutely condemn. Now, however, as curiosity may expect to be gratified by the work of our Author, we see no reason for keeping it from the Appendix to the first volume.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE writer of the following pages, in laying them before the public, imagines that no further reason requires to be alleged for their not having first been produced at one of our theatres, than the reason assigned by Mr. Horace Walpole (now Lord Orford) in the postscript to his muchadmired tragedy, The Mysterious Mother,' which was never intended for representation:-" From the time that I first undertook the foregoing scenes, I never flattered myself that they would be proper to appear on the stage. The subject is so horrid, that I thought it would shock, rather than give satisfaction, to an audience. Still, I found it so truly tragic in the essential springs of terror and pity, that I could not resist the impulse of adapting it to the scene, though it never could be practicable to produce it there."-Postscript to The Mysterious Mother.'

Having applied a paragraph of the noble author's above mentioned, to the present piece, the writer also avers, that the story of this play (as well as that of The Mysterious Mother') is founded upon circumstances which have been related as fucts, and which the unhappy state of a neighbouring nation does but too powerfully give reason to credit.

SCENE-A City in France, about sixty miles from the Capital.

Time of representation, one day.

359

THE

MASSACRE:

A TRAGEDY.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A Saloon in the house of EUSEBE
TRICASTIN.

Enter MADAME TRICASTIN.

Mad. Tri. What misers are we all of our real pleasures! I condemn avarice; and yet, was gold half so precious to me as the society of my dear Eusèbe Tricastin, I should be most avaricious! Even now I grudge, to a degree of rancour, my nearest, dearest relations the pleasure of his company; and think the loss of him, for one day only, beyond the appointed time of his return, a robbery on my happiness not to be forgiven.

[The door opens, and she goes hastily to meet the person entering; but, on perceiving it is TRICASTIN senior, she turns away with chagrin.]

Tri. What, daughter, sorry to see me! This is the first time, since I have had the joy to use that name, that you have ever met me with coolness-nay, this is something more-'tis with repugnance.