Benedict Arnold'ın İhaneti ve Ölümü: Bir Yunan Tiyatrosu Oyunu - The Treason and Death of Benedict Arnold: A Play for a Greek Theatre

Produced by Nicholas Tomaiuolo and Al Haines

THE TREASON & DEATH

OF

BENEDICT ARNOLD

A PLAY FOR A GREEK THEATRE

BY

JOHN JAY CHAPMAN

MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY

1910

By John Jay Chapman

CHARACTERS

BENEDICT ARNOLD.

JOSHUA SMITH.

MAJOR ANDRÉ.

MRS. ARNOLD.

WILLIAM ARNOLD, A Boy of Eight, Son to Benedict.

FATHER HUDSON.

CHORUS OF WAVES (Men).

CHORUS OF CLOUDS (Women).

CHORUS-LEADER OF MEN.

CHORUS-LEADER OF WOMEN.

TREASON.

DEATH.

TWO PICKETS.

A SERVANT.

SCENE

ACT I. THE SHORE OF THE HUDSON NEAR WEST POINT.

ACT II. SITTING-ROOM OF BENEDICT ARNOLD IN ENGLAND IN 1801.

The Acts are Separated by a Short Vocal Intermezzo.

TREASON AND DEATH

OF BENEDICT ARNOLD

ACT I

The margin of the Hudson at West Point. Fort Putnam and the Highlandsin the distance. A flag is fluttering on the fort. The orchestrarepresents the level of the river shore, upon which level the Choruswill enter. The characters of the drama appear on a bank or platform,slightly raised above the orchestra and Chorus. At the opening ofthe play Father Hudson is upon the scene. He reclines in the centreof the stage in the attitude of a river-god. The nook or couch inwhich he rests is situated between the two levels, as it were in anangle of the river bank. His position is such that he can, by turninghis head, either watch the personages on the stage, or address theChorus on the river margin. He is so painted and disposed as not toattract attention when the play opens, but to appear rather as a partof the scenery and decoration.

First Picket. Uneasy has been my watch. Dark have been myforebodings, standing first on one foot and then on the other, throughthe night hours, preyed upon by visions, holding my eyelids open by mywill, while strange thoughts like vultures over their carrion, wheelingabout above me, assail me, tear me with their beaks and talons. Darklooms the cloud bank through the black portals of the river. The fogholds the bleared eyes of the morning. And I, stiff with watching,suspect some evil. Some foul play is in the mountains, stalking in theshadows of the dawn. Would God the releasing trumpet would blow andthe flag flutter on the mountain side, and that I might find all well!General Washington is on a journey. Would God he were returned! [Thesound of a bugle is heard.] Blow, blessed bugle! Blow to the risingSun! Blow to the dayspring of Liberty, to the new nation rising calmlyabove the dangers that beset her dawn. Blow bugle, and scatter thenight-thoughts of terror!

[Enter the relieving Picket.] Who goes there?

Second Picket. A friend and thy relief.
Our post is changed;
T

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