If I Were King

Performed at St. James Theatre, London.
A dramatic play by Justin Huntly McCarthy.
Opened 30th August, 1902 - ran for 215 Performances.

Starring: Lilian Braithwaite.

Editorial and Photos all as published in 'The Play Pictorial' No. VII. (1902).

Cast		The principal players in this production.
Review		Review of the play.
Scenes from the Play		A selection of scenes the play

THE CAST

REVIEW

"I DREAMED a dream that filled my heart with lightness. I dreamed I was a swine rooting in the streets of Paris, and that I found a pearl of great price in the gutter. I took it and placed it in my crown, where it shone so brightly that it filled all Paris with its light. But it made my crown so heavy that I threw it down and would have trampled on it, when a star fell and stopped me."

This is the keynote of the play in the words confided by Louis XI., the cruel and superstitious King of France, to his Provost Tristan L'Hermite, in whose company he loves to visit disguised the lowest purlieus of Paris, to learn how his subjects live and how they speak of him. He does not hear much good of himself at the Fir Cone Tavern, a meeting-place of vagabonds, thieves and light-o'-loves, where laughter and love mingle with blows and curses, and life is all for the present at the cost of past and the future. The nunnery of loose women with their "Abbess "--a reckless, rollicking woman, attired in doublet and hose--are longing for the arrival of their boon companion, Francois Villon, by his own count a broker of ballads, a brawler, a winebibber, and they take little notice of the soberly-clad King and his attendant. When the burst of merriment following Villon's entry has subsided, he defends his love of wine by asking what a man can do but drink when France is going to the devil, when the Burgundians are encamped outside Paris, and a nincompoop sits on the throne. To this frank criticism the King must hearken unangered; he contents himself by asking with a sneer: "No doubt you could do better than the King if you were in his place?"

Villon answers by reciting his boastful song of the glories that should be "if Villon were the King of France," little dreaming of the jesting plan that his words inspire in Louis' mind.

But his braggart mood soon changes to one of melancholy, and, amid the jeers of the company and the jealous abuse of the Abbess, he tells of his passion for a beautiful lady connected with the Court, to whom he has dared to send love poems. Sometimes even the light singer can love in deeper tones, he assures his sceptical hearers, but they break away unimpressed to watch a street-fight between two harridans. And at this moment, as though in answer to her lover's thoughts, the beautiful Katherine de Vaucelles enters seeking his help. Amid all the flatteries and protestations that surround her, she thinks to detect in his poems the note of sincerity, and the help she asks is in her vengeance on Thibaut d'Aussigny, Grand Constable of France, who loves her little, and her broad lands much, and seeks to force her to marriage. "Kill him," she urges, "and you will serve the State as well, for he is a traitor in league with the Burgundians. "Villon gladly promises to serve his lady, and having provoked a quarrel wounds his adversary, just as the doors are burst open by the Guard. To the astonishment of all and the comical discomfiture of Villon, the King discloses himself, and orders the arrest of the party.

Seemingly he bears no malice. Villon awakes from a drunken sleep, to find himself in a gorgeous room in the palace, addressed as Count de Montcorbier, Grand Constable of France--d'Aussigny, he learns, has fled but slightly wounded, to the enemy. Attended by obsequious servants bearing costly raiment, Villon wonders whether he be drunk or dreaming, yet, somewhat to the disappointment of the King, bears himself as though to the manner born, for Louis had promised himself from his little jest great amusement, as well as an opportunity for two-fold revenge--on Villon for his frank abuse of the evening before, by waking him rudely from his dream just as it grew sweet--and on Katherine, who had resented his advances, by encouraging Villon to woo her as an equal.

The first act of the new Constable is to send money to his poor old mother, with the news that he is safe, but banished from France. His second is to set free with a cup of wine and a gold coin apiece--after terrifying them with his mysterious knowledge of their past misdeeds--his old associates, none of whom recognise in this high dignitary their whilom gay companion. With wider outlook and greater opportunities, vague desires and ambitions take form within him, a loathing fills him for his old abandoned existence, and in hopeful mood he goes to the King, from whom he learns the true meaning of the "jest"--that his power will last for seven days only, and at the end--a felon's death on the gallows. "Better a week of opportunities," cries Villon, "than a life dragged out in his old surroundings," and struggling between admiration and cruelty, Louis gives him one chance. If he win the hand of the haughty Katherine, he may evade his sentence.

Katherine herself fails to recognise the new Constable when she comes to beg his mercy for one Villon, a prisoner who has brought trouble on himself for her sake. Villon assures her that tne man is safe, but banished, and proceeds to declare his love for her, but laughing at his impetuosity, she urges him to lift France out of the degradation into which it has fallen for want of a man to guide the State. An opportunity occurs at this moment, for the Burgundian herald brings a demand for the immediate surrender of the City, but Villon is prompt with his answer: "Tell your master we give you defiance for defiance, menace for menace, blow for blow." Katherine's heart leaps to meet this warrior spirit, "A man has come to Court at last." And a man indeed Villon proves himself to be, for in the space of a few days, he inspires with courage the disheartened army, restores to popularity the craven monarch, and prepares against the enemy a masterly campaign. Nor has he neglected in his martial duties the art of love, and on the eve of the seventh day, as they are preparing for battle, his ardent wooing leads Katherine to confess her love.

But even now plots are afoot to pull down the new Constable, who has so suddenly earned the King's favour, as well as that of the noblest woman in France. From Huguette, whose wild love had pierced his disguise, Villon learns the details of a plot by which he is to be disgraced and his position given to his rival Noel le Jolys, while the King is to be betrayed into the hands of Thibaut d'Aussigny, disguised as an astrologer. Forewarned, Villon frustrates the plot by disguising himself as the King, and when d'Aussigny, mad with fury, rushes at him, Huguette, faithful as frail, interposes her own body and receives the death blow meant for the man whom, through all her wanton existence, she alone had truly loved.

Grudgingly grateful for Villon's services, Louis still does not alter his decision, and when he learns of Katherine's surrender, threatens to reveal to her the identity of her lover. Hopeful of the power of a true woman's love over every obstacle, Villon begs her to look into his face, and remember a tavern, a drunken brawl, a duel, a ribbon-given as a favour, and worn since the service that won it.

Love is great, but pride is greater, and smarting under the outrage to her strongest feelings, Katherine expresses her hate for him and her contempt for herself. Villon does not question the justice of her decision, and careless of life now that it is bereft of love, he prepares for the great sortie against the Duke of Burgundy.

In the last scene the gallows stands in readiness in the market-place. Louis enters to receive the returning army, who bring the enemy's flags as trophies. All has been successful and France has been restored to her lost power, but to the man who has achieved this no mercy is to be shown. The populace protests angrily, and to appease them Louis agrees to accept another life in place of the man now destined for the gallows. Villon's distracted mother begs to die for him, "No, by God's law you have given him life once, and by my law you may not give him life again," answers the King. Another woman offers herself; this is Katherine, torn by love and remorse. "We speak to men, not to women," says the relentless King, whom no appeals can move.

Resigned to death, Villon thanks Heaven that he has been loved by a star among women. "A star!" echoes the King. This must be his dream, Villon the jewel that shone bright but weighed heavy; Katherine pure and proud, the star that should prevent his crushing the pearl. Superstition, stronger than justice or mercy, sways the obdurate King. "Shepherd and shepherdess," says he, with a touch of scorn," go tend your sheep, and rich in their mutual affection, strengthened by the trials they have undergone, Katherine and Villon enter on a new life of peace and love.

Author not credited.

SCENES FROM THE PLAY

Click any image for a larger view
Huguette entertains in the Tavern	The King and Tristan at the Tavern	Lady Catherine seeks Villon at the Tavern	Lilian Brathwaite as Katherine de Vaucelles	Villon fights a Duel
The King consults an Astrologer	The new Constables first duties	A Herald from the Burgundians	Huguette with Constable Villon	Suzanne Sheldon as Huguette du Hamel
Lady Catherine with the King	Huguette enters into a plot	The death of Huguette	The King attends his Queen	Katherine and Villon, lovers united