VALENTINE AND ORSON,
A ROMANTIC MELO-DRAME,
AS PERFORMED AT THE
THEATRE-ROYAL COVENT-GARDEN.
WRITTEN BY T. DIBDIN.
AUTHOR OF
THE JEW and DOCTOR, BIRTH-DAY, WILL for the DEED,
CABINET, ENGLISH FLEET, FAMILY QUARRELS,
IL BONDOCANI, SCHOOL for PREJUDICE, FIVE
THOUSAND a YEAR, SAINT DAVID's DAY,
NAVAL PILLAR, MOUTH of the NILE,
HORSE and the WIDOW, &c. &c.
AND PRODUCED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF
MR. FARLEY.
The OVERTURE and MUSIC by MR. JOUVE.
_LONDON_:
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY BARKER AND SON,
DRAMATIC REPOSITORY,
GREAT RUSSELL STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
1804.
To CHARLES FARLEY.
AS A FEEBLE, THOUGH SINCERE, ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF HIS PROFESSIONAL
EXERTIONS, UNREMITTING ZEAL, ATTENTION, AND ASSIDUITY, IN THE
STAGE-ARRANGEMENT OF THE FOLLOWING BAGATELLE, ITS PAGES ARE MOST
CORDIALLY INSCRIBED BY
T. DIBDIN.
The LADIES and GENTLEMEN, who have so eminently distinguished
themselves in the Performance, are also respectfully desired to accept,
as they most amply merit, the Author's best Thanks.
* * * * *
⁂ The Lines marked by inverted Commas, are omitted in Representation.
_CHARACTERS._
FRENCH.
Pepin, _King of France_ Mr. CORY.
Henry, } { Mr. KLANERT.
Haufray, } _his Relations_ { Mr. CLAREMONT.
Valentine, (_a Foundling_) Mr. FARLEY.
Orson, (_a Wild Man_) Mr. DUBOIS.
Hugo, (_Valentine's Armourer_) Mr. BLANCHARD.
Blandiman, (_Page to the Empress_) Mr. CHAPMAN.
Page to Valentine, Master BLANCHARD.
_Peers of France_, _Messrs._ Curties, Lee, &c.
_Citizens of Orleans_, _Messrs._ Abbot, Atkins, Truman, &c.
_Peasants and Pilgrims_, _Messrs._ Byrne, Darley, King, Street, &c.
_Choristers_, _Messrs._ Kenrick, Linton, Odwell, Tett, Thomas, &c.
Alexander, _Emperor of Greece_, Mr. FIELD.
Princess Eglantine, Mrs. St. LEDGER.
Empress Belisanta, _Sister to the King_, Mrs. DIBDIN.
Florimonda, _of Aquitaine_, Mrs. FREDERICK.
Female Pilgrim, Miss MARTYR.
Agatha, (_Attendant on Eglantine_) Mrs. MARTYR.
Cicely, (_an old Peasant_) Mrs. POWELL.
_Nuns_, _Mesdames_ Atkins, Benson, Bologna, Burnet, Castelle, Gaudry,
Iliff, Leserve, Price, Wheatley, &c.
SARACENS.
The Sorcerer Agramant (_the Green Knight_) Mr. BOLOGNA, jun.
Iman, Mr. HARLEY.
The Giant Ferragus, Mons. LE GRAND.
The Genius Pacolet, Master MENAGE.
Golden Oracle, Mr. CRESSWELL.
Guardian of the Giant's Castle, Mr. POWERS.
_The other Characters by Messrs._ L. Bologna, Lewiss, Platt, Sarjant,
Wilde.--Mrs. Blurton, Mrs. Bologna, Miss Cox, Miss Dibdin, Mrs.
Findlay, Mrs. Masters, Mrs. Norton, Mrs. Watts, Miss Willis, Mrs.
Whitmore, &c.
The Scenery by RICHARDS PHILLIPS, WHITMORE, HOLLOGAN, &c.--The
Decorations and Machinery by GOOSTREES, SLOPER, and CRESSWELL.
Valentine and Orson.
ACT I.
SCENE I.--
_A long Perspective of the Suburbs of Orleans, terminating
with the ancient City Gates--On one Side a Convent, the Windows
of which are illuminated from within--The Stage is at first dark,
which gives Effect to the Transparency of the Windows--As the
Curtain rises slowly, the following choral Chaunt, accompanied by
the Organ, is heard from the Interior of the Monastery._
Hear, while our choral numbers flow,
Hear! and avert the awful doom,
Which human frailty fears below,
When summon'd to the insatiate tomb.
_The Monastery Gates open, and the Friars and Nuns enter in
Procession, singing the following_
_CHORUS._
Now bolder raise the hallow'd strain,
While living worth we haste to meet,
Our King, victorious comes again,
Again our foes sustain defeat.
_They cross to the opposite Side, and exeunt while
singing.----As they go off, the Stage becomes lighter
(descriptive Music) The Dawn reddens, and the Sun rises
over the City; the Gates of which are thrown open, HUGO,
with a Mob of Citizens, Soldiers, and Peasantry, come
shouting down to the Front of the Stage, the Music ceases
and HUGO speaks_.
HUGO.
Stop! stop! stop! now don't be in such a plaguy hurry. The holy
brethren and sisters are just before us, and you, with your noise,
would interrupt their merry solemnity.
First CITIZEN.
Merry solemnity, do you call it?
HUGO.
Ay, truly--they have just chaunted a solemn requiem in annual memory
of the king's departed sister--and now, a merry occasion calls them
forth to meet our good old king himself, who has been fighting for his
people, conquered his foes, and deserves the thanks of all his friends.
Second CITIZEN.
Then why stand we here?
HUGO.
Why not? The king will pass through that gate, for the opening of which
we have so long waited--and instead of going to the _show_, if we tarry
a few moments, the _show_ will come to us.
Third CITIZEN.
They say the king's favourite, young Valentine, hath gained great
honour in these wars.
HUGO.
That he hath:--and humble though I seem, I have helped him to no small
part of it.
All.
You!
HUGO.
To be sure--I made the very sword with which he slew the Saracens; and
I defy any man to be killed with a better tempered weapon. Oh! I'll
be bound he laid about him.--He had 'em here, and he had 'em there.
(_Flourishing his stick to the annoyance of the mob._)
Second CITIZEN.
But, friend Hugo, why shou'd the king lavish so much favour on a
foundling?
Old WOMAN.
Aye, aye, he was found in a forest--Well, well, when great men go
a-hunting, and find children in the woods, it's time for the fair sex
to look about 'em.
Third CITIZEN.
And mark the end of it--In that very spot where Valentine was found,
there has suddenly appeared a strange wild man, some say he is fourteen
feet high.
Second CITIZEN.
No, no; thirteen feet and a half.
Third CITIZEN.
Who, to feed an old weather-beaten she-bear, bears down all before him.
First CITIZEN.
Nay, but Valentine is well-beloved among us too: the old men admire
him, and his courtesy has gained him the hearts of all the young women.
Old WOMAN.
He never said a civil thing to me in all his life.
HUGO.
There it is--his honesty has made him enemies. There's Henry and
Haufray, the cousins of the king, have determined to destroy him,
because one is said to want to be heir to the throne, by marrying the
king's daughter, the Princess Eglantine; and the other conceits himself
to be the only man in the kingdom, fit for the office of captain
general over all our victorious armies. Stand aside!--Here come all our
noble peers to meet the king.
_GRAND MARCH._
_The Peers of France advance from the Gate to meet the king, who
enters with the following_
_ORDER OF PROCESSION._
An Officer.
Banner of France.
Men at Arms, two and two.
Officer.
Banner.
Soldiers with Spears and Shields.
Choristers, two and two.
Grand Cross.
Lady Abbess.
Choristers.
Grand Crozier.
Nuns and Friars, two and two.
Black Musicians.
Officer bearing the Oriflamme.
Peers of France, two and two.
The King.
Pages and Armour bearers.
Henry and Haufray.
Officer.
Red Banner.
Men at Arms.
Officer.
Banner.
Soldiers.
Page with Valentine's Standard.
Valentine.
Saracen General and Officers in Chains.
_The Chorus forms an Accompaniment to the March._
_CHORUS._
With the gladsome notes of victory,
Let the merry cymbals ring,
Till earth resounds a people's cry,
Whose hearts proclaim--_Long live the King!_
_During the Chorus the Characters are so arranged that the King
is in the centre, and when the Music stops, he speaks_:
KING.
This genuine welcome from my people is the most brilliant trophy I have
gained:--but thank not _me_, my friends--to this young warrior's arm we
owe success. (_pointing to Valentine_) The giant chieftain of yon pagan
host measures his length on earth, subdued by valour and by Valentine.
VALENTINE.
My gracious liege; the child of chance, the creature of your bounty can
never atchieve a thousandth part of what he owes to you, his sovereign,
and his _father_.
KING.
Yet, in requital of that sense of honour, take from thy king the
Earldom of Auvergne.
HENRY.
(_Apart to the King._) Auvergne! a royal title!--He'll next obtain the
crown--Sure, my liege, a man unknown--
KING.
It is my best prerogative to rescue unknown merit from obscurity.
HAUFRAY.
(_Aside._) If this goes on, he will aspire to gain the princess.
(_apart to the king_) Men of birth, great sir--
KING.
Will be most proud of him, whose zeal, at once, supports my crown,
their honours, and the people's cause.
OFFICER.
Dread sir, your daughter, beauteous Eglantine, impatient waits you at
the royal palace.
KING.
Tell her, we long to clasp her to a father's bosom. Captives, your
lives were spared on the condition that you receive our faith (_the
Saracens bow_). Be preparation made, and let Religion's triumph grace
our feast. Auvergne, my daughter's lips, again, shall speak her
father's thanks--Our citizens of Orleans ope' their gates with loyal
welcome to receive their sovereign. Thus ever may the king and people
of this happy land, endeared by firm affection to each other, own the
dear ties of father and of children! and, woe to those, who, with a
traitor's hand, would tear the bond asunder!--Lead on.
_Exeunt in procession. The King and Attendants go off thro' the
city gates--The Captives, accompanied by the Friars and
Nuns, enter the Monastery._
SCENE II.--
_Interior of the Convent._
_Enter BLANDIMAN and BELISANTA._
BELISANTA.
Have all retired? Are we observed, my friend?
BLANDIMAN.
The fathers seek their cells to offer prayers for the new converts.
BELISANTA.
Alas! 'tis now the twentieth year since I have sought the mournful
consolation of recounting how much a wretched woman owes thy
friendship.
BLANDIMAN.
Away with sorrow, and in this moment of rejoicing, demand an audience
of the king, your brother.
BELISANTA.
He thinks his sister guilty. Was I not banished by my husband the
Emperor of Greece, fatally wrought on by traiterous slander, when, you,
alone, accompanied a weak, defenceless woman?
BLANDIMAN.
Never shall I forget when, wearied with anguish and fatigue, you sat
beneath a blasted oak; the wind with mournful sound scattered the
falling leaves--meanwhile your groans were echoed by the distant murmur
of nightly prowling wolves.
BELISANTA.
When, at my request you left me, in the hope of finding human aid,
two babes, the offspring of my unkind husband, first saw the light.
Starting with agony, these eyes beheld one of my children in the savage
gripe of a most hideous bear. One desperate effort, short as furious,
impelled me to attempt pursuit. I fell, and knew no more of sense, till
from a peasant's wife I learned that she had found and borne me to her
humble dwelling.
BLANDIMAN.
I wandered far, till the sound of horns led me to where I met the king,
who with a frown at hearing of your name, on pain of death, warned me
to leave his presence.
BELISANTA.
Vainly I sought my infant left behind--reason a second time forsook
her seat.--The sisters of this convent poured balm into my bosom, and
religion, cloathed in the garb of patience, brought me peace.
BLANDIMAN.
Have you ne'er yet disclosed your name and rank?
BELISANTA.
Accounted dead, and masses for my soul's health yearly ordered, I vowed
that as my children were for ever lost to me, my husband and my brother
unconvinced of the cruel treacheries employed against me, ne'er to be
known but as a sister of this order.
BLANDIMAN.
Yet may you hope that providence will watch o'er piety and innocence,
and but to-day, I learned that Valentine, a favourite of the king's was
found--
_Enter a Friar._
FRIAR.
The duties of our order require your presence to join the Pagan
captives in preparation for the sacred change they are about to make.
BELISANTA.
We attend you, father.----(_To BLANDIMAN_) The ceremony past, I wait
your leisure--and for your friendly deeds, they'll meet reward from
where I hope my prayers have long since registered them.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE III.--
_The Palace._
(_Descriptive Music._)
_The KING discovered on his Throne, attended by VALENTINE, HENRY,
HAUFRAY, and the Peers of France--the Princess is announced by
her Ladies, and enters--the KING presents VALENTINE to her as
the Preserver of his Life, she receives him with a warmth of
Gratitude approaching to Love--the KING leads her to a Seat,
resumes his Throne, and speaks_:
KING.
Be it proclaimed that any of my subjects who have petitions to our
throne, may now approach. The best acknowledgement we offer heaven
for good received, is when we use the ample power it gives to
bless our people.--The greatest monarch he, whose subjects are the
happiest.----Let all enter.
_The Music plays a characteristic Symphony--a Group of
Peasantry enter, the Principal of whom unfolds a Petition,
and while he and the rest kneel, recites the following_
_CHAUNT._
With lowly respect, zeal, devotion, and duty,
To your Majesty's state, and our Princess's beauty,
We entreat that you'll graciously grant us assistance
Against a wild man, who in spite of resistance,
Whoe'er in his road he may meet with, destroys,
And your peaceable subjects and liegemen annoys,
Then let your brave knights take this wild-man away,
And your humble petitioners shall ever pray.
_Chorus_--Then let, &c.
KING.
What armed force will undertake this enterprize? When a savage strikes
at the general safety, 'tis the duty of all good citizens to join
against him.
HENRY.
Haply, young Valentine, in gratitude for the high favours he receives,
would gladly go alone on such an errand.
HAUFRAY.
Ay, good my liege, his all-subduing valour must succeed.
VALENTINE.
For once, whate'er your motives you're my friends. It had been
arrogance, had _I_, before so many gallant knights, proposed myself;
but now I swear, living or dead, to bring this fell destroyer to your
presence, or in the forest he inhabits, leave this form a worthless
token of his victory.
(_Pantomime Music._)
_VALENTINE takes a respectful Leave of the KING, and an
affectionate one of EGLANTINE, who seems to reproach
HENRY and HAUFRAY with causing his departure--VALENTINE
goes off with the Peasants; the KING, &c. on the opposite
Side----The Scene closes._
SCENE IV.--
_An Apartment in the Palace._
_Enter HUGO, furbishing VALENTINE's Shield._
There--I have made Lord Valentine's shield so bright, that if the
wild man does but see his face in it, he may haply take fright at his
own ugly features. It's monstrous unlucky that though I have been
armour-bearer and armour-maker to the young knight from the time of his
first campaign, yet something has always happened to prevent my going
with him, and now when so handsome an opportunity offers, I'm sadly
afraid I shan't be able to find an excuse for staying behind. I've been
ill of every thing I could think of, in turn, and have obtained more
certificates of bad health, than would have paid for the cure of real
sickness.--Let's see--what can I think of next?
_Enter AGATHA._
AGATHA.
So, Mr. Hugo, your poor master is going again, I fear?
HUGO.
Yes, I fear we are both going. But you see how it is with us--a willing
horse, you know----
AGATHA.
The poor princess will cry her eyes out, she's so sorry----
HUGO.
And so am I.
AGATHA.
_You_ sorry!--for what?
HUGO.
Why, to think that----that----
AGATHA.
Oh, I know what you are sorry for--you've heard that Valentine has
sworn to go alone, and that you will lose the honour of sharing in so
hopeful an enterprize.
HUGO.
Has he? how lucky! (_aside_) Yes, I'm monstrous sorry--I didn't know it
sooner. (_apart_)
AGATHA.
I knew you'd feel hurt.
HUGO.
True--to think I that carried him in arms, when a boy, should see him
go _alone_ at these years.
AGATHA.
Well, but if you were to ask him.----
HUGO.
What, to break his vow? I wou'dn't have such a sin at my door, for the
honour of fighting the wildest man in Christendom.
_Enter VALENTINE, with a Letter._
VALENTINE.
Agatha, present this to the princess, and tell her till Valentine can
prove that gentle blood flows in his veins, her roseate cheek shall
ne'er have cause to blush for him she has so honoured.
AGATHA. (_gives VALENTINE a Scarf._)
Sir, she sends this parting token, and will pray incessantly for your
return.
[_Exit._
VALENTINE.
Then success is certain! Come, see my armour.
HUGO.
(_While arming him._) I humbly hope, my lord, that, now, I have no
hinderance you'll graciously permit my services. I have kill'd divers
wild things in my time, and might be useful.
VALENTINE.
Well, then, thou shalt go with me.
HUGO.
(_Dropping the armour._) Shall I! O dear!
VALENTINE.
How now?
HUGO.
'Twas but a sudden qualm--That was a real pain i' the back. [_Aside._
VALENTINE.
I mean to take thee but to the entrance of the forest.
HUGO.
I cou'dn't think of intruding further.
VALENTINE.
There secure my horse, and wait my return. (_Draws his sword._) Now
gentle fortune aid thy knight.
And let the Fates for good or ill combine,
The star that leads me on, is, Eglantine.
[_Exeunt on opposite sides._
SCENE V.--
_The Forest of Orleans._ (Richards.)
_On one side a large Tree which can be climbed, at the back, a
Cavern nearly covered with Underwood._
_The_ Peasants _enter who presented the Petition at Court._
First PEASANT.
Well, the king hath heard our petition, and here we go joyfully on our
way home.
Second PEASANT.
Troth, I am weary;--let us rest awhile; for when the wild man is once
killed, this forest will be quite safe, and things will run in the
right road again.
Third PEASANT.
For my part I fear nothing but the wild man--Lack-a-day! it would do
you good only, an't were to hear him roar--
(_Music heard without._)
Mercy on us? What was that?
First PEASANT.
That was no honest roaring. Such sweet sounds mean no good. I have
rested enough now.
[_Going._
Second PEASANT.
Don't hurry so, goodman Ambrose, the music is not so bad.
Third PEASANT.
No matter--I wou'dn't dance with old nick for a partner, to the
prettiest tune that ever was composed.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter Three_ Pilgrims, _who join in the following_
_GLEE._
(_Accompanied by one of them on the lute._)
"_Pilgrims._ The sun to ocean hies away.
"The curfeu bell is ringing,
"And pilgrims thro' the twilight grey,
"Now cheer the way by singing.
"While each, tho' weary, feels delight,
"In thinking of his inn at night,
"And ev'ry footstep moves in time,
"As plays the distant village chime."
_Re-enter the Peasants running._
_Peasants._ Mercy on us!
_Pilgrims._ Strangers, say--
_Peasants._ Here he comes,
_Pilgrims._ Which is our way?
_Peasants._ Have you seen him?
_Pilgrims._ Whom?
_Peasants._ He's coming.
Hark! the wild man--
_Pilgrims._ Tell us, pray.
_Peasants._ Here you must not stand humdrumming.
Yes, 'tis he--away! away!
_All._ Away! away!
[_Exeunt hastily._
_Characteristic Music, which varies with the Incidents of the
following Scene._
_A strange kind of howling is heard--ORSON presents himself with an
animal in his grasp, which he has just slain--a faint roar is
heard of the old Bear--ORSON expresses satisfaction, intimating
he has got food for her. The Bear enters--ORSON shews her the
food, and in a playful manner, follows her into the cave._
_VALENTINE enters, followed at cautious distance by HUGO, who puts
down a basket containing some cordage, fruits, and a flask,
and seems very anxious to be dismissed--VALENTINE, in dumb
shew, charges him with a token for EGLANTINE and the KING, and
recommending himself to heaven, takes his way into the thicket._
_HUGO, being left alone, seems terrified, and as much afraid to go
back, as to follow VALENTINE--looks warily about him, hears a
noise, and runs to the cave for shelter--a roar is heard from the
cave, HUGO instantly returns running, most whimsically terrified,
and pursued by ORSON--HUGO throws his cloak at the wild man, and
while he is tearing it to pieces, HUGO runs off--ORSON throws
down the cloak, and doubly enraged by the escape of his intended
victim, follows._
_VALENTINE re-enters, cannot find the wild man--sees HUGO's cloak,
laments his supposed death, and mounts a tree to look out for his
enemy._
_ORSON re-enters, and expresses disappointment at not having
overtaken HUGO--as he approaches the tree where VALENTINE is,
VALENTINE plucks a branch, and throws it at him--ORSON looks
up with astonishment, chatters uncouthly to VALENTINE, throws
the branch back to him, and beckons him to come down--VALENTINE
hesitates--ORSON enraged, immediately ascends the tree--and while
he is climbing up one side, VALENTINE gets down on the other, and
in turn beckons his opponent.--ORSON makes but one jump from the
tree to the ground--runs to VALENTINE, who opposes his polished
shield--ORSON seeing his own figure reflected in it, suddenly
starts back--VALENTINE, with his sword drawn, keeps ORSON at bay,
and leads him round the stage, still wondering at the figure he
sees.--ORSON at length struggles for the shield, takes it from
VALENTINE, and throws it away--VALENTINE has another shield at
his back, which he immediately uses, slightly wounds ORSON with
the point of his sword, at which he, enraged, looks round for
a weapon, pulls up a young tree by the roots, and uses it as a
club._
_A fierce combat ensues--VALENTINE, by his lightness and activity,
escapes many dreadful blows, aimed at him by ORSON.--They stand
to breathe awhile, when the Bear suddenly totters from the
cave--VALENTINE, at the moment she opens her mouth, presents his
sword in the attitude of thrusting it down her throat--ORSON, as
if instinctively apprised of the danger of his foster-mother,
drops his club, and seems to implore mercy for the old and
feeble Bear--VALENTINE retires, the Bear follows--ORSON recovers
his club, and is about to attack VALENTINE, when the latter
cuts ORSON's hand--the club falls, and VALENTINE is once
more attacking the Bear, when ORSON supplicates--VALENTINE
suddenly throws a cord round ORSON's hands, and bids him follow
him--VALENTINE holding the other end of the cord.--ORSON looks
at the Bear, and then at VALENTINE, who throws him fruit--he
gives it to the Bear--VALENTINE gives him wine from a flask, he
tastes it, likes it, and gives some to the Bear, who seems half
strangled with it, and totters towards the cave._
_VALENTINE again bids ORSON follow him--ORSON suddenly snaps the
cord, and follows the Bear--the Bear unable to reach the cave,
drops with a faint roar, and dies, as if from old age._
_ORSON shakes her, puts the food and bottle by her, throws himself on
the ground, and seems to weep._
_VALENTINE ventures to caress him--ORSON turns short on him, snatches
at his sword by the blade, and again cuts his fingers--resumes
his club, but throws it down again on seeing the dead
Bear.--VALENTINE caresses ORSON again (still keeping on his
guard), ORSON seeing VALENTINE's attention to himself and the
Bear, seems pleased and overcome by it--presents VALENTINE with
one end of the cord, and holding the other, suffers himself to be
led off, looking back from time to time, at the dead Bear, and
making an uncouth and mournful kind of lamentation._
ACT II.
SCENE I.--
_A Court-Yard of the Palace at Orleans_--(Phillips.)--_in front a
pair of great Gates, with Posts before them, and a Chain across
from one to the other_.
(_Pantomime Music._)
_Officers and Servants run on terrified--go in at the great gates,
and make them fast--VALENTINE enters on horseback, leading ORSON,
who seems amazed at every thing around him--VALENTINE blows a
horn at the gate, ORSON is surprised at the noise, tries to
blow it, but cannot, which makes him very angry--Some one looks
out from above, sees ORSON, shakes his head and retires--ORSON
imitates him--VALENTINE angrily tries to force the gate, but is
unable; ORSON assists, without effect--at length, seeing that
VALENTINE is eager to obtain entrance, ORSON pulls up a post,
breaks the chain by which it is attached to the next post, and
batters the gate open--attendants rush out armed, are going to
attack ORSON--VALENTINE interposes--HENRY and HAUFRAY enter,
shake hands with VALENTINE--HENRY, in turning from VALENTINE,
half draws his sword, ORSON sees him, and pushes it rudely
back into the scabbard--VALENTINE signifies to ORSON that he
must shake hands with his friends--he takes a hand of each,
and squeezes them violently--he then shakes hands with the
others--EGLANTINE enters, runs into VALENTINE's arms--ORSON is
astonished, delighted at her beauty, he runs to embrace her,
as VALENTINE has done, but is repulsed and much displeased at
it--VALENTINE makes him kneel and kiss her hand--drums and
trumpets are heard, the wild man is alarmed--the KING and
Courtiers enter and welcome VALENTINE--ORSON's attention is
still fixed on the Princess--he approaches her again, she,
terrified, runs for protection to VALENTINE--ORSON seems hurt,
and makes a savage kind of moaning--the KING admires ORSON, who
wants to shake hands with him, but is taught the proper mode of
approaching him by VALENTINE--the KING orders ORSON a dress, and
goes off with the Princess and attendants--VALENTINE and ORSON
are following, when the latter espies HUGO, and remembering the
adventure of the cloak in the forest, runs furiously towards him,
and reminds him of it by action--VALENTINE interposes in behalf
of his terrified armour-bearer, whom he reconciles to ORSON, and
leaves them together--Attendants bring on apparel, as ordered by
the KING, for ORSON, who makes many whimsical mistakes in putting
it on, when suddenly missing VALENTINE, he throws the dress at
the Officers, and runs into the palace in search of his friend._