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 Copyright, 1911 By John Jay Chapman CHARACTERS BENEDICT ARNOLD. JOSHUA SMITH. MAJOR ANDRE. 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 Highlands in the distance. A flag is fluttering on the fort. The orchestra represents the level of the river shore, upon which level the_ Chorus _will enter. The characters of the drama appear on a bank or platform, slightly raised above the orchestra and_ Chorus. _At the opening of the play_ Father Hudson _is upon the scene. He reclines in the centre of the stage in the attitude of a river-god. The nook or couch in which he rests is situated between the two levels, as it were in an angle of the river bank. His position is such that he can, by turning his head, either watch the personages on the stage, or address the_ Chorus _on the river margin. He is so painted and disposed as not to attract attention when the play opens, but to appear rather as a part of the scenery and decoration._ _First Picket_. Uneasy has been my watch. Dark have been my forebodings, standing first on one foot and then on the other, through the night hours, preyed upon by visions, holding my eyelids open by my will, while strange thoughts like vultures over their carrion, wheeling about above me, assail me, tear me with their beaks and talons. Dark looms the cloud bank through the black portals of the river. The fog holds the bleared eyes of the morning. And I, stiff with watching, suspect some evil. Some foul play is in the mountains, stalking in the shadows of the dawn. Would God the releasing trumpet would blow and the flag flutter on the mountain side, and that I might find all well! General Washington is on a journey. Would God he were returned! [_The sound of a bugle is heard._] Blow, blessed bugle! Blow to the rising Sun! Blow to the dayspring of Liberty, to the new nation rising calmly above the dangers that beset her dawn. Blow bugle, and scatter the night-thoughts of terror! [_Enter the relieving_ Picket.] Who goes there? _Second Picket_. A friend and thy relief. Our post is changed; The pickets are extended up the hills, And this low post abandoned. _First Picket_. That is strange, To leave the river front without a watch! If we expect attack, attack must come Along the river,----