Robert Emmet and Sarah Curran

 
[The following episode, from the "Famous Loves of History" series is written 
by Katherine Seymour, assistant continuity editor of the National Broadcasting 
Company. It is a good example of broadcast material built about actual 
characters and incidents. The program was sponsored commercially and the 
commercial announcements are included. The broadcast runs fifteen minutes.--
Peter Dixon, 1931]


 
FAMOUS LOVES 
 
ROBERT EMMET AND SARAH CURRAN
 
BY KATHERINE SEYMOUR
 
OPENING ANNOUNCEMENT: 
(Theme song is played.)
Another in the series of Natural Bridge Romances--a series of dramatic 
sketches based on "Famous Loves"--is presented by the nation-wide distributors 
of Natural Bridge Arch Shoes for the smart feminine foot. These shoes are 
modern--fashionable--and retain the natural loveliness of dainty feet--
naturally. Dealers of Natural Bridge Arch Shoes can fit almost any foot 
smartly, comfortably--and at very moderate expense. Their slogan is "Good to 
the foot--good to the eye--good to the pocketbook." 
(Theme music continues to end.)
 
THE DUOLOGUE 

NARRATOR: In many an Irish cottage, on many a night during the past century, a 
favorite topic of conversation has been the brave lad Robert Emmet, a youthful 
martyr to the cause for which he fought--the independence of his native land, 
Ireland.
 
Robert Emmet, who lived during the latter half of the eighteenth century, was 
a brilliant student at the University of Dublin, until he left college as a 
protest against the political restrictions imposed by the English governors. 
For three years he roamed on the Continent, meeting other exiled Irishmen, and 
completing plans to free Ireland from the yoke of England. Finally, after an 
interview with Napoleon, and a promise of French aid, he returned to Ireland 
to carry out his plans, and also--to see again Sarah Curran, the girl he 
loved.
 
This beautiful girl, daughter of the distinguished lawyer John Curran, had 
twice rejected him, and after his return he lost all hope that she would ever 
love him. Nevertheless he had always been a welcome guest in her father's 
house, and although he was absorbed in secret plans for Ireland, he could not 
forget Sarah nor could he resist dropping in from time to time to chat with 
her.
 
One afternoon in the early spring of 1803, Sarah was strolling in the garden, 
as Robert Emmet opened the wicket gate and hailed her.
 
ROBERT. Good day, Sarah! May I stroll with you in the garden?

SARAH. Why, Robert! Is it not a glorious spring day? Do come in.
 
ROBERT. I scarce noticed the day, Sarah. You are more glorious than the first 
flowers of spring.
 
SARAH. Robert, I fear you will not have the heart to flatter me when I tell 
you the message my father bade me give you. 

ROBERT. Message? Is it unpleasant?
 
SARAH. I fear it is--I do not understand it. ... Oh, please forgive me, 
Robert, but he has asked me to tell you-- Oh, I cannot--I cannot tell you!
 
ROBERT. Please tell me his message, Sarah.
 
SARAH. He does not wish you to come to our house again, Robert. Oh, please 
forgive me--I do not know the reason. 

ROBERT. Do not be distressed, Sarah--please do not be troubled about me. I 
shall not bother you or your father again, for I have come here to-day to say 
farewell to you. 

SARAH. Farewell? You knew then of my father's request? 

ROBERT. No, Sarah, but I am in danger of arrest and--

SARAH. Danger of arrest! Oh, Robert!
 
ROBERT. Sarah! Does it matter to you--my life or death? 

SARAH. Death? Oh, no--you cannot mean that! 

ROBERT. Yes. At any hour I may have to flee from Ireland. My brother is in 
America--I shall join him there. Oh, I am thankful now that you do not love 
me--

SARAH. Robert! Why are you in danger? Tell me.
 
ROBERT. Sarah! Your eyes are filled with tears! ... Ah, your sympathy is 
sweet. When I am far away in America this shall be the happiest memory--a 
picture of you here under these blossoming hawthorns--
 
SARAH. Robert! I--do not wish you to go so far away--I do not wish you to 
leave me.
 
ROBERT. You don't--love me? Oh, no--it is not possible, Sarah darling!
 
SARAH. Yes, Robert, I have this moment learned my own heart--when you spoke of 
danger, I learned that I love you. ... Oh, Robert, do not say farewell!
 
ROBERT. You love me! Oh, no, it is not right now--my future is so dark--clouds 
are gathering-- I thought that you could never love me and death has never 
mattered. 

SARAH. Robert--you cannot die! I love you!
 
ROBERT. If I do not die, then I shall be an exile. How can I ask you to share 
an exile's life?

SARAH. Robert, won't you tell me what danger threatens?
 
ROBERT. Your father has heard vague rumors--that is why he has ordered me away 
from his house. On the night of July twenty-third I shall lead forth a 
faithful band of United Irishmen to capture Dublin Castle and the artillery 
barracks--

SARAH. Oh, Robert!
 
ROBERT. If the attempt succeeds, Ireland will be free--if I fail, then I shall 
be hanged for treason.
 
SARAH. Oh, Robert dearest, must you attempt this? Would it not be wiser to 
abandon it and let Ireland continue to be ruled by England?
 
ROBERT. I have dreamed all my life of helping Ireland. All preparations have 
been made--for many months we have been storing guns and ammunition in secret 
places--the date is set for the attack.
 
SARAH. I shall pray that the attempt succeeds, but if it fails--then I shall 
follow you into exile.
 
ROBERT. Darling, until to-day I felt uncertain of success--with your love and 
your prayer, how can I fail? 

["Wearing of the Green" is played.]
 
NARRATOR. Throughout the night of July twenty-third, Sarah Curran trembled and 
prayed as she sat at her window, listening to the sounds of guns and the roar 
of cannon. 

From time to time horsemen rode past the house bearing news of an uprising, 
but no definite report came. 

As the first pink streaks of dawn colored the sky, some pebbles struck her 
window. Then she heard--
 
ROBERT. [In hushed voice.] Sarah! Sarah! 

SARAH. Oh, Robert! Thank God you are safe! 

ROBERT. Darling--soldiers pursue me--every moment is precious, but I had to 
come this way to see you. 

SARAH. Oh, tell me---did your attempt succeed? What happened?

ROBERT. It failed, Sarah, miserably. The hour came--I set out with but eighty 
faithful men ... I found treachery at every point ... the few men I had 
trusted with full knowledge of our plans betrayed me--
 
SARAH. Oh, Robert! How terrible!
 
ROBERT. Yes. Our revolution, planned to liberate Ireland, ended in an 
unglorious street brawl.
 
SARAH. You did your best, Robert, I know that, and you look so brave and 
handsome in your green and white uniform.
 
ROBERT. I fear it will be the last time green is worn in Ireland for many 
years. Our poor country is not yet ready to throw off the English yoke.
 
SARAH. Where will you hide, Robert? Oh, I shall not be able to sleep or eat 
until I know you are well out of Ireland!
 
ROBERT. Sarah, I shall never leave Ireland without you. I have word of a ship 
which will take us away--I shall send letters to you--
 
SARAH. But the letters may betray your hiding-place, dearest!
 
ROBERT. I have one servant who can be trusted. Now I must go, but, Sarah, when 
I send you word that the ship is under sail, will you flee with me to America?
 
SARAH. Yes, Robert, and may God keep you safe until next I see you!
 
ROBERT. Good-by, my darling! I go now to the mountains, where I must remain 
until the hue and cry has died down.
 
SARAH. Good-by, Robert! ... I love you, darling! 

NARRATOR. Robert Emmet remained safely hidden for several weeks, and there 
were but two people who knew his hiding-place--one was his father's servant, 
the other was Sarah Curran. Before long his servant was arrested and brutally 
tortured, but she refused to betray her master. No one knew of Emmet's love 
for Sarah Curran. Then, because there was no one to carry letters to Sarah, 
Robert Emmet ventured from his hiding-place and returned to a cottage near 
Dublin in order to be near her. One night he left his house by way of a secret 
passageway to the garden of Sarah's house and Sarah fell, half fainting, in 
his arms. 

SARAH. Robert! You should not have come here--but oh, how glad I am to see 
you!
 
ROBERT. Sarah, my darling, you are so pale, and wasted. Oh, what suffering my 
love has brought you and I once hoped to bring you nothing but happiness! You 
who deserve all the joy and happiness in the world.
 
SARAH. I have worried so much about you--I tremble every time my father comes 
home, for fear lest he bring word that you have been discovered.
 
ROBERT. Sarah, my dear, please think of me kindly when I am gone--

SARAH. When you are gone? Why do you say that? When you leave Ireland I shall 
go with you.

ROBERT. It is too late now, dearest--I shall never leave Ireland.
 
SARAH. Robert! What do you mean?
 
ROBERT. Sarah, my hiding-place has been discovered. When I left, soldiers 
surrounded my house, and by this time are following me here. I escaped by a 
secret passage, but this time I cannot reach the mountains.
 
SARAH. Robert! They will throw you in jail and then--Oh, no! ... They won't, 
they can't!

ROBERT. Yes, it is true-- I shall be hanged. ... But let us not think of 
that--we have so few minutes to be together.
 
SARAH. Hanged! Robert! Say it is not true! ... You are not a criminal--you are 
a hero! You tried to help Ireland--tried to make our countrymen independent.
 
ROBERT. Darling--I can remain here just a few minutes longer. Thank God you 
have not been implicated! Your name has never been linked with mine--I pray 
you may be spared that!
 
SARAH. Robert--they cannot hang you like a common thief! 

ROBERT. Sarah dear, can't we forget for these last few minutes everything save 
that we love each other? Shall we pretend that we are happy, that we are 
planning our future home? I should like a cottage by the side of the river!
 
SARAH. [Weeping.] Oh, Robert, don't ... I can't pretend-- Oh, they can't take 
you from me--there is not so much injustice in Ireland--

[Sound of hoof-beats fades in.] 

SARAH. Robert! Hark! The soldiers!
 
ROBERT. Yes, dearest, they must not find me here. You must not be involved in 
my trial. Farewell, my darling! Oh, I had hoped to bring you happiness and my 
love has brought only sorrow and misery!
 
[Hoof-beats come nearer.] 

SARAH. [Sobbing.] Robert! Oh, Robert! Don't go! They can't arrest you--oh, 
they will kill you!
 
ROBERT. [From distance.] Good-by, sweetheart!
 
SARAH. Robert! Robert!
 
[Hoof-beats fade out. Irish music.]
 
NARRATOR. A letter which Robert attempted to send from jail to Sarah Curran 
was intercepted. Soldiers broke into her house, but she was finally declared 
innocent of conspiring against England.
 
Mercifully, she suffered a complete nervous breakdown and did not learn until 
weeks later that her lover had been hanged for treason in September, 1803. 

Robert Emmet died bravely, and the tomb of this "child of the heart of 
Ireland" became a revered national shrine.
 
CLOSING ANNOUNCEMENT:
(Theme song is played.)
The central characters of next week's romantic sketch will be Andrew Jackson 
and his wife Rachel.

This weekly series of Natural Bridge Romances, based on "Famous Loves" of 
history, is presented by the distributors of Natural Bridge Arch Shoes for the 
smart feminine foot. These moderately priced shoes are designed to protect the 
natural loveliness of dainty feet--naturally. Natural Bridge Arch Shoes come 
in all sizes and in all widths. Their slogan is "Good to the foot--good to the 
eye--good to the pocketbook." 

As a souvenir of this program, its sponsors would like to send you a beautiful 
picture in full color of the Natural Bridge of Virginia, so attractive that 
many of you will wish to frame it. To receive this picture, address a post-
card or letter to the Natural Bridge Shoemakers at Lynchburg, Virginia, or in 
care of the station through which this program reaches you. The "Famous Loves" 
program has come to you from the New York studios of the National Broadcasting 
Company.

______________________________________
Originally broadcast: 21 February 1930


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