Washington sentinel. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1853-1855, 1853-11-20
From the Boston Post


From the Boston Post. >ta.
A New Play.
On Friday evening last, Miss Davenport's
/ new play of "Camille, or the Coquette's
Fate" was produced for the first time in our
city. This play, as we have before informed
our readers, is translation and adapta-
ton by John Wilkins, author of the play emit,
tied g Civilization" from French play enti-
tied "La Dame aux Camelias,' written By
Dumas, a son of the famous romancer. The
original, as any one having the slightest ac-
| quaintance with the French language may i'm
agine, is altogether unsuited to the English or
| American stage, and the play has therefore
been considerably altered in the adaptation.
| We have perused copy of "Camille," and have
prepared the following account OF its principal
plot The whole play is an attempt to illus
trate the evil effects of coquetry, and to show
how difficult it is for one, who has long pursued
course of error, to leave that path, and obtain
the good opinion of the world. The Duke de
Mauriac was passing a few weeks at one OF the
| popular baths so common in Germany, IN the
| vain hope that the health Of his daughter, who
| was in the last stages OF consumption, would,
| by so doing be recruited. At the same baths
| there was poor grisette named Camille Gautter,
the child Of crime, of poverty who bore such
wonderful resemblance to mademoiselle, the
| daughter of the duke, that she appeared rs if
| she we're sister. The duke was SO struck by
this resemblance, that he determined, at the
death of his daughter, to adopt the grisette,
| Camille, as his own child.
He accordingly educated her in the proper
manner, and introduced her to society as his
| own daughter But the world was not only
| Jealous but suspicious. Insinuations we're wh's.
pered about Camille's birth was traced, and
her humble and degrading origin declared IN
the most fashionable society of Paris. so loud
did the insinuations at last become, that even
the duke believed them and Camille was forced
to leave the society to which she had proved
an ornament In revenge for the insults she
had received, her very nature was changed,
and in place of that amiability OF disposition
for which she had before been remarked, pride,
coauetry and extravaganza took Its place.
Truly proud and extrayagant did Camille prove
| She was called aaa Dame aux Camelias,' or
| as the translator has it, the "Queen OF the
| Camelias," and her successes as a coquette
were no way behind her extravaganza and
PRIDE At last, such was her extravaganza,
and such her reputation for coquetish manners,
that the duke, wishing to save her from utter
ruin, recommended to her young man OF for
| tune, NJ de Varville, who was soon violently in
love with her, and made her an offer of mar
riaoe. but she refused In spite OF this refusal,
the Young man loved her, but she scorned him,
| and continued in her life of dissipation, until
she had fairly undermined her health. Con.
| sumption marked her for a victim, and her evil
course of life but accelerated the slow attacks
| of the fearful complaint.
At this time she met Armand Duval, and fell
in love with him, and he returned her love.
Such was the extent of her passion, that she
left Paris, gave up her course of dissipation,
and retired to the country, where she was ac-
companied by Armand. There she led far
different life almost forgot her false friends at
Paris, and there they passed their time so hap
pily that they were soon bethrothed. Camille
had succeeded in paying off a large proportion
of her debts of dissipation, and Armand had
left for Paris, in order to place the little prop
erty of his own in her possession, to pay her
last few debts of honor, when an announce
ment was made that M. Duval, the father OF
Armand, wished to see her. M. Duval en-
tered and began to expostuate with Camiiie
upon her marriage with his son, and after
using some harsh language towards her, found
ed upon her reputation, but which he alter
wards regretted, when he discovered that she
was entirely changed from what she had been,
he informed her that his daughter was beloved
by a Young man of honorable family, whose
relations had heard of his sons connexion
with the Queen of the Camelias," and forbade
the marriage of his daughter and their relative.
Camille was overpowered by the touching
manner in which M. Duval related his story,
and agreed with him that to save the family
name she would sacrifice herself, resign all
claim to Armand love, and return to Paris-but
she agreed to this upon one condition-that Ar;
mand should never know the cause of her rup
ture with him. She then wrote hasty note to
Armand and left for Paris, where, in short
time. she became the affianced wife OF M. de
Vary;lle the prOtepe of the duke.
Shortly after her return to Paris she met
Armand at ball, entered into conversation
with him and endeavored to reconcile HIM to
her conduct; but he perverse anu madiy IN
love still, asked her in desperation II she loved
| de Varyille, She, as in duty bound, answered
"yes," when Armand rushed to the doors,
threw them wide open, called Tor the assenpied
company, and in their presence usea to"arus
her the most violent language, IN exposing her
conduct, and then rushed from hes PWfesenII,s PWI,:
| 4 dnel between Armand and NJ de Narville
4 ,.os ,ha consequence of the formers rash act,
:, ,b;cb Varyille was wounded. Armand,
,bongb nniniured, was obliged to leave the VI
| o;n;t9 The shock of the exciting events
tbronob which Camille had passed undermined
her already feeble constitution, and brought
on that catastrophe which had so long been
dreaded. She was confined to her room ana
at last died, the victim OF her own error ana
misconduct in the arms OF Armand, VINO nav
inc hoard of her illness, sought her presence,
to ask her forgiveness for his rash conduct his
father having Informed him. of the reasons for
Camille's apparently heartlcss actions; There
Is an underpiot to the play, which adds much
! 10 its interest. The first act commences with
snere in which NJ de Varville and Camille
onnear after the introduction by the duke.
The earlier portion of the story is gathered
from the dialogue. The play is we'll written
and we'll told. Its perusal proved highl, .enter.
tanning to us, but we can form no Judgment OF
the piece as an acting drama, from merely
reading it. We have no doubt, however, that
it viii prove a favorite play with the public