m 
 
 812. 
 
 MSB 5 
 
 UC-NRLF 
 
 SDh 
 
 YC 64769 
 
 A 
 
i-"<X*~ t* 
 
THE 
 
 MERCHANT 
 
 OF 
 
 UABALOUPEs 
 
 A PLAY, 
 
 IN THREE ACTS. 
 
 AS IT WAS PERFORMED AT THE 
 
 Cljeatre iRopal, 
 
 On Tuefday, the $th of Oftoler, 1802. 
 
 FROM TrtE FkEN'CH 'O F M E R C I E R. 
 
 . 
 
 BY JOHN WALLACE, ESQ. 
 
 JLontron: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J. AND~T. CARPENTER, 
 
 OLD BOND STREET, 
 l802. 
 
S- GpSNKLL, 
 
 - pSNKLL, P)-irrter,~ 
 
 Little Queen Sttcc:^ Hoicortu 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 OHOULD the prefent piece ever meet the eye 
 of the French Author, the Tranflator has, in 
 the firft in fiance, to apologize for making the 
 moft trifling alteration in a drama that has fo 
 defervedly met with diftinguifhed and un- 
 bounded applaufe upon the French theatre, 
 and increafed the fame fo long attached to the 
 name of Mercier. That author has, in the mod 
 happy manner, carried the fimple and interefl- 
 ing Jftory of Mr. WaVner, in the novel of 
 Sydney Biddulph (from which production he 
 acknowledges, in his Preface, to have borrowed 
 the ilory for ' his play), to nearly double the 
 length of the prefent piece. The fimplicity of 
 the plot has induced the Tranflator to curtail 
 and leave out many interefting paffages, as he 
 was fearful the full length of the original piece 
 might be too tedious for an Englifh audience. 
 The chief alteration he has made, has been, in 
 introducing the character of Mulfon at the end 
 of the Second, inftcad of the Firfl A&, by 
 
 A 2 which 
 
 ffi 3869 
 
fV PREFACE. 
 
 which the real lituation of the Merchant is not 
 fo foon made known to the audience, and, 
 confequently, the intereft carried more into the 
 heart of the' play. 
 
 This piece was performed at the Theatre 
 Royal, Margate/ on the 5th of October, 1802 ; 
 and, it is probable, might have given more 
 interefr, had not the principal performer been 
 fo inattentive to his part, as to introduce lan- 
 guage more of his own competition than the 
 author's, and in fome paffages he paid fo little 
 attention to grammatical chaftity, as to excite 
 rifibility. 
 
 The Tranflator laments that he is under the 
 neceffity of noticing this inattention, but in 
 juftice to his work he is compelled to it, in 
 order to do away the unhandlbme and falfe 
 remarks that a few of the journalifts have been 
 pleafed to beftow upon his labour. 
 
 The other performers did ample juftice to 
 their characters : and the piece, even under 
 the difadvantage mentioned, was extremely 
 well received, and concluded without the 
 flighted, mark of difapprobation. A paper 
 called, the Sun, has, however, in a very wife 
 and excellent critique of four lines , obferved, that 
 " A young man of fafhion, one of the Pic Nics 
 " no doubt, has brought out a play at Mar- 
 
 " gate : 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 gate : to give fome idea of its badnefs, it is 
 " Hated, that even at Margate it was damned'' 
 In order, therefore, to give a better idea of its 
 badnefs (if it really merits that title) than the 
 Sun has been able to do, it is prefcnted to 
 the Public, and it is recommended to the 
 writers for the above paper, upon a future oc- 
 calion, to know what they are criticizing upon, 
 and not to condemn without taking the pains 
 to difcover and point ou-t the defects : and 
 when it is remembered, that the piece was lent 
 to the theatre, without any pecuniary motives 
 whatever in favour of the Tranflator, and was 
 of great fervice to an honeft performer, by 
 bringing a crowded audience to his benefit, and 
 only an endeavour to contribute (as far as lay 
 in his power) to the innocent amufements of a 
 watering-place, even that coniideration might 
 have fpared his poor attempt to pleafe from 
 iuch illiberal, and he thinks unmerited, re- 
 marks. 
 
 A Canterbury paper has been as ivlfe and as 
 liberal as the Sun. 
 
 The only juft critiques that have appeared 
 upon this performance were inferted in the 
 Morning Poft and Courier ; thofe papers have 
 correctly pointed out the errors and blunders 
 of the aclor, and not inconfiderately thrown 
 2 damnation 
 
VI PREFACE* 
 
 damnation upon the author. Such as it is, it 
 is now offered to the public, and to thofe who 
 take any pleafure in feeing charity rewarded, 
 and pride punifhed, it may not perhaps prove 
 unentertaining, or unworthy their perufal. 
 
 The Tranflator is much indebted to his bro- 
 ther for the excellent Prologue and Epilogue he 
 wrote upon the occalion, which were extremely 
 well delivered by Mr. Bartley and Mr. Lee* 
 and defervedly applauded. 
 
 PROLOGUE, 
 
PROLOGUE. 
 
 Written ly Mr. JAMES WALLACE, 
 Spoken ly Mr. BARTLEY. 
 
 EACH infant play (fo writes fage Do&or Time) 
 At firil is nurtur'd by a bit of rhyme ; 
 When force it gains, to ftand and tread alone, 
 It quits the ftrength that fofter'd for its own ; 
 The cradle leaves, grows fat upon the ftage, 
 And boafts, what few would talk about, its age. 
 
 Thefe trappings, then, the humble bard excufe, 
 Who flirs, at Friendfhip's call, his fleepy mufe, 
 And ventures thus, through inoffenfive verfe, 
 A brother author's feelings to rehearfe. 
 O ye, who know a parent's fear and joy 
 In giving to the world a darling boy, 
 Now funk in anguilh, now with hope elate, 
 Lift up his offspring, prop its feeble ftate. 
 Eleven years have roll'd their courfe away 
 $ince firft he wrote yet dar'd not aft his play, 
 Till bufy rumour whifper'd in his ear, 
 That modeft worth would find protection Jtere. 
 Yes, among ocher gifts, our Thanet's ifle 
 Puts forth companion's tear, good-nature 'sfmile; 
 Blends fenfe with beauty, mirth with virtue's grace, 
 And fhews, where'er we look, an honefl face. 
 
 Sooth then each foft alarm, each tender care, 
 And let this little bantling blofTom there ; 
 Imperfeft thus he comes, juft fnatch'd away 
 From clofet darknefs to meridian day. 
 But keep in mind, that, fhould he rife or fall, 
 Jiis only intereft is, to pleafe you all. 
 
Dramatis 
 
 MEN. 
 
 Woodville (the Merchant), Mr. LONG. 
 
 Mulfon, Mr. BEW. 
 
 Mr. Vane, Mr. TAYLOR. 
 
 Servant, Mr. W. LONG. 
 
 WOMEN, 
 
 Mrs. Milville, Mrs.lNCHBALD, 
 
 Mrs. Vane, Mrs. BEW. 
 
 Lucy, Mifs CLARKE. 
 
 Servants) &c. &c. &c. 
 
 Scene Lond( 
 
 on. 
 
THE 
 
 MERCHANT 
 
 OF 
 
 U A B A 3L, U P E* 
 
 A /^rft t " J " ".".*'* * 
 
 AC 1 I- 
 
 SCENE I. A Room. 
 
 Mr. VANE is fitting at a Table covered with 
 Papers, Letters, &c* and Writing-deft. Mrs. 
 VANE on the other Side, in *z Df/habille, Jit ting 
 in a large Chair. 
 
 Mr. Vans. 
 
 You loft a confrderable fum at play yeflerday, 
 Madam ; I muft beg of you to be more prudent* 
 in future. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Mow difagreeable you are ! You 
 forget the days when I win. 
 
 Mr. Vane. But you fhould never lofe> Ma- 
 dam. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Come, come, }ou will ruri no 
 rifk in advancing me an hundred to day ; I '11 
 play with the Countefs, ihe is the mod foolifh 
 creature poffible : give me an hundred, I fay, 
 and I 'ilengage to win a th oufand. 
 
 B Mr. 
 
THE MEUCHAKT OP GUADALOUPE : 
 
 Mr. Fane. Well, well, but choofe your ad- 
 verfaries: have nothing to do with your prudent 
 and attentive people, who obferve every card : 
 let your party confift of the giddy and the 
 foolifh ; they are the bed players. 
 
 Mrs. Pane. Oh, leave me alone. 
 
 Mr. Vane. But, Madam, it is high time to 
 reprimand you ferioufly for your other extra- 
 
 vagances. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Dear Sir, how often mufl I repeat 
 to yoti, that the only thing that could poffibly 
 induce me to marry you was to get rid of the 
 ennui that, troubled me when fingle ? 
 
 Mi'-Vqne. Marian, I don't wifh to deprive 
 yea of any of the privileges due to a married 
 woman ; run here, run there, invite to your 
 houfe whom you pleafe, but only have fotne 
 mercy upon my purfe. I find here, in looking 
 over fome old letters, one from a near relation, 
 a firft coufm ; the date is twenty years back ; he 
 went to leek his fortune in America, and there 
 died. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. How came you to the knowledge 
 of his death ? 
 
 Mr. Vane. Why, I only fuppofe fo, as I kno\v 
 he was poor, and he never iblicited any favour 
 or affiflance from me, nor have I heard any 
 thing about him for years. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Pray have you heard any thing 
 of your lifter lately r The foolifh woman prides 
 herfelf upon her knowledge in literature. 
 
 Mr. Vane. She, I believe, is out of danger. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Has Hie returned the books I 
 lent her ? 
 
 Mr. 
 
 
 
A PLAY. 3 
 
 Mr. Vane. She has. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. \ beg fhe may afk for no morq, 
 for I pofitively declare I '11 fhnt Up my library : 
 Ihe aiks for books as if they coft nothing, and 
 in returning them has the infolence to reproach 
 me for not having read them my (elf. She 's a a 
 impudent hufley, and annoys me exceedingly. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Well, my dear, we very feldoni 
 fee her ; fo there is no reaibn to complain. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. She has the infolent pride to pafs 
 for a tender affectionate mother, with her t\Vo 
 brats, that fhe can't ftir without ; and fhe is al 
 ways pouring forth her milerable complaints, 
 and fighing after her ftupid deceafed hufband. 
 
 Mr. Vane. She has reafon to figh, for he left 
 her in very indigent circumfiances. I always 
 cautioned her, and difapproved of the match, 
 becaufe the fellow was not worth a farthing ; 
 her anfwer was, that he was a good and vir- 
 tuous man ; and fo there fhe is, with her ftarv- 
 ing children, fluffed up in a fourth flory, 
 forced to work for daily fubfiftence. 
 
 Mr si- Vane. For my part, I am determined 
 never to fee her more, and I beg of you to tell 
 her fo. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Servant. There is a man wifhes much to 
 fpeak with you : he brings intelligence of a Mr. 
 Woodville. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Woodville ! that 's the very name 
 of the relation I juft fpoke about. 
 
 Servant. He fays, Sir, he has fomething par- 
 ticular to communicate to you from a Mr. 
 
 B 2 Woodville, 
 
4 THE MERCHANT OF GUADAt.Q-VPB: 
 
 Woodville, a relation of yours, whom he lately 
 favv in America. 
 
 ,Mr. Fane. This is very flrange. Shew him 
 in. (Exit Servant.) I always thought, fome- 
 how, that he was not dead ; and yet I have 
 had reafon to fuppofe, and indeed to wilrt 
 that he was. 
 
 Enter WOODVILLE, Jlowly, meanly attired \ 
 Mr. and Mrs. VANE do not rife from their 
 Chairs, nor do they ajk WOODVILLE to be 
 Jeated. 
 
 Mrs. Vane, (dfide.) How dare my fervants 
 let in fuch a fellow ? 
 
 Mr. Vane. Well, Sir, what is your bufinefs 
 with me ? 
 
 JVoodville. Heaven be praifed, my dear cou- 
 iin ! what joy it gives me once more to fee you ! 
 have you quite forgot me? 
 
 Mr. Vane. Sir, I really am at a lofs to know 
 your meaning. 
 
 Woodville. My name is Woodville; I am a 
 near relation of yours. 
 
 Mr. Vane. I remember, Sir, having a relation 
 of that name, but I thought him dead long 
 fmce. 
 
 Woodyille. He lives, Sir; and you fee him 
 now,. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Sir, it is fo long iince I have feeo 
 or indeed heard any thing about you, that you 
 can hardly expect I fhould remember you. 
 
 Woofoillt. I fee but little alteration in you; 
 I {hould have known you any where. I, alas ! 
 ^mmuch jnpre altered; indeed that is not fur- 
 
 prifing; 
 
A PLAY. f 
 
 prifing; fatigues, troubles, unhappinefs, a long 
 relidence in a foreign climate, all have tended 
 to change my perfon : do you remember what 
 friends we were ? 
 
 Mr. Fane. Ay, college friends ; 1 remember 
 we ufed to play the fool together ; but what the 
 devil is that to the purpofe ? what is your bufi- 
 nefs with me ? 
 
 Mrs. Fane, (dfide.) This fellow, I fuppofe, is 
 going to alk charity ; I '11 fend away the fer- 
 vant that let him in. 
 
 Woochille. I was fettled, Sir, at Guadaloupe. 
 
 Mr. Fane. Well, Sir, and what then ? 
 
 JVoodvilh. I had amaifed, with much labour, 
 2 fmall independence. Condefcencl, Sir, to liften 
 to my unhappy tale. Having loft a wife and 
 only child, and nothing remaining that attached 
 me to a foreign climate, I refolved to return 
 to England ; a love for my native foil fpokc 
 to my heart. The veffel on which my little for- 
 tune was (embarked was wrecked on the coait of 
 Spain ; ten of my companions were drowned in 
 endeavouring to fave the fmall remnants of 
 their property. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. And I think they were very for- 
 tunate, Sir, as they would have had nothing 
 left to live upon. 
 
 Wood'vilU. You are right, Madam; I have 
 more than once envied their fate; they are not 
 the moil to be pitied. It is with the great efl 
 difficulty 1 have reached London : oh, Madam ! 
 if you knew how much I fuffered on the jour- 
 jiey, what hardfhips I have undergone, 'twould 
 almoft break your heart. Upon my arrival I 
 made inquiries after you : when I heard th-t 
 
 kind 
 
6 THE MERCHANT OF GUADALOUPE : 
 
 kind Heaven had bleffed you W:th fortune, and 
 that you lived in comfort, it gave me the mod 
 lively joy. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Comfort, Sir? (Impertinence!) 
 You feem, Sir, in other countries to have forgot 
 the manners of this. 
 
 Wvodvilh. I entreat your pardon, Madam ; 
 but from the elegance of your houfe, the num- 
 ber of your fcrvants, the 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Well, Sir. and what then ? Your 
 obfervations are impertinent. 
 
 IVoodvilk. Forgive me, Madam, but the 
 poor man cannot help noticing all that flrikes 
 him ; he fees, and feels, the extreme diftance 
 that feparates him from all comfort, 
 
 Mr. Vane. Well, Sir, but you'll permit me 
 to tell you, that your conduct here is very 
 Grange; you have introduced yourfelfin a very 
 extraordinary manner, pretending to bring me 
 news of a relation abroad ; but I believe all 
 your fiory to be an infamous falfchood. \ou 
 Lave very kindly chofen me, in preference to all 
 others, to repair the injuries of the elements ; 
 and fo, becaufe chance has made you my cou- 
 fin, I am to be anfwerable fur your misfortunes: 
 you are fhip wrecked on the coaft of Spain, and 
 I am to be relponfible for it in London ; you 
 arrive here, after an abience of twenty years, 
 and fay. Here I am, help rne. 
 
 fVoodvilk. I have, indeed, that prayer to 
 make. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Sir, all our wifhes will not 
 reftore to you what you have loft. 
 
 Wuodvilte. I know it, Madam, but I am 
 
 willing to work for a fubfifteuce ; and I only 
 
 4 imploi'6 
 
A PLAY. >J 
 
 implore your benevolence and intereft, to get 
 me placed in fome office. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Why, Sir, in your younger days 
 you were not willing to do any thing ; you led a 
 very profligate life ; you would attend to no- 
 thing. 
 
 Woodville. I confefs, Sir, my youth was 
 fpent in diflipation ; I have too often repented 
 of it, but the feduc'tion of pleafures 
 
 Mr. Fane. Seduction of pleafures, Sir! Ay, 
 you left this country involved in debt. 
 
 Woodville. Oh, Sir, all my debts I honeftly 
 paid ; all, I allure you. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Your conducl, Sir, caufed your 
 uncle to die of a broken heart. 
 
 JVoodviUe. Oh ! indeed, indeed, Sir, that 
 that is not true. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Not true ! Here is a pretty fel- 
 low, comes to afk charity, and gives me the 
 lie. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Infolent fellow ! Why don't you 
 turn him out of the houfe ? 
 
 Wood'-ollle. Forgive me, I mean not to of- 
 fend. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Why, Sir, how dare you 
 
 Jl'oGdviUe. My dear uncle had always the 
 greatelt friend fhip fop me, and I loved him. 
 He wrote to me feveral times ; here are fome of 
 his letters (taking out his pocket-look) I fhall 
 always preferve them ; you will fee how heel- 
 teemed me. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Oh, Sir ! I have no wifh to fee 
 them 
 
 Woodvilk. He tells me here, he would have 
 done more for me, but his two children claimed 
 
 all 
 
Tl4E MERCHANT OF GUADALOUPEt 
 
 all he had. His recommendations were of the 
 greateft fervice to me ; your father's memory, 
 Sir, I fhall always cherifh and revere; and 
 (hough now I am poor, I was never guilty of 
 an action to make you or myfelf blufh, or de- 
 termine you to caft me for ever from your pro- 
 te<Siion. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. Mr. Vane fometimes relieves the 
 poor, but at prefent all his money is en-" 
 gaged. 
 
 fVoodvilk. Madam, I only want fome em- 
 ployment ; any thing not humiliating I will un- 
 dertake. I will endeavour to give fatisfaction 
 when employed, and no fault fhall be found 
 with my attention and correclnefs ; I will be 
 laborious and exact. I requeft your affiilance 
 earneftly, becaufe, Madam, becaufe I I will 
 at once confefs, that on my labour alone de- 
 pends my fubiiftence ; to-morrow's dawn will 
 fee me deftitute of bread, if this day your ge- 
 nerofity does not relieve me. I have none in 
 this immenfe town to aflifr me ; you are my 
 only friends ; I '11 do any thing for fupport, 
 bur, in the name of God, relieve me at this 
 unhappy moment. 
 
 Mr. Fane (Afide to his wife.) To get rid of 
 this fellow, I '11 give him a crown. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. Nonfenfe 1 This is the common 
 cant of all beggars; difmifs him immediately, 
 and order him never to return. A pretty kind 
 of a relation indeed 1 
 
 Mr. Fane. Sir, I can do nothing for you, 
 and fo pray retire. 
 
 JFoodvUk. I obey, Sir ; but before I go, I 
 
 have 
 
Slave one Favour to afk, which I think you 
 can't refufe me. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Come, Sir, no longer conference ; 
 what is it ? 
 
 IFood-uilk. I entreat of you, Sir, to giv me 
 the addrefs of your filler : I rcmcm!>er her a 
 child; Ihe, I thought, appeared kind and 
 com pa HI on ate. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Sir, it 's a long time fince I have 
 icon her; fhe leads a very extraordinary life, 
 fhuns all her connexions; and, .befides, what 
 fervice can fhe render you ? ihe is poor, and 
 has two children ; however, my fervant will 
 give you her addrefs ; but it is ufelefs ; the has 
 not the means of ferving you. 
 
 Wo&fo'dlt* Though fhe is poor, fhe may do 
 fomething for me, and if not, we will condole 
 together; fhe knows what misfortune is, and 
 will perhaps feel the more for me^ for my un- 
 happy ftate. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Well, Sir, but I have now fome 
 important bufinefs and and I mull beg of 
 
 fFboJvifik. (In a low *voice t with th? great- 
 eft tarneftmjsy retiring very Jlowly.) Forgive 
 my importunities ; I am driven indeed to ex- 
 treme diftrefs ; if you could do any thing 
 for me I fufTcr fevcrcly. (Mrs, VaneJ/iahs 
 her head.) Nothing ! Well, I am content. 
 True courage confifts in differing with refigna- 
 tion. I am a man, and will maintain the dig- 
 nity of one ; I know, befides, thai I have no 
 right to afk of you afliftance. Forgive me, 
 Madam, for having preiurned to fblicit as I have 
 clone: the entreaties of a man are always 
 prefling when the heart is loaded. I hope, 
 
 c Madam 
 
^O THE MERCHANT Q* GUADALOUPE: 
 
 Madam (Mrs. Vane rifes^ and retires without 
 regarding him.) You, Sir, I hope will never know 
 the mifery of falling fuddenly in diftrefs. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Damn it. Sir, will you leave me ? 
 will you leave me, I fay ? You put me out of 
 all patience; there is no bearing luch mfolenre. 
 Shew this fellow out. (Woodville withdraws 
 Jlowly, and with great fubmtjpon. Mr. Van*: goes 
 hoflily out, and in a great fajfion, on the 
 Jide of the ftage.) 
 
 END OF ACT I. 
 
 ACT 
 
A PLAY, II 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE L Mrs. MilvHHs Room, rather a 
 poor one. Mrs. MILVILLE is at Work: her 
 Maid, or rather Companion, LUCY, enters, and 
 pi4ts a Guinea in her Hand. 
 
 Lucy. 
 
 MY dear miftrefs, here is the produce 6f our 
 little labour. I have found one who is charmed 
 with the delicacy of your work, and who has 
 promiled to pay me well, whenever I bring any. 
 There, my dear miftrefs. (Giving her the 
 guinea.) 
 
 Mrs. Mihille. There is no fhame, my dear 
 Lucy, in working to maintain one's felf and 
 family. My poor huiband did not think to 
 leave me in fuch a lituation. 
 
 Lucy. Whenever I meet your brother in hi3 
 grand equipage, and think how he abandons 
 his virtuous filter, I am almoft inclined to cry 
 out to the paiTers by, and expofe his barbarity, 
 
 Mrs. Mifoilk. No, my <jiear friend, let us 
 bear up againft misfortune with ealmnefs and 
 relignation. My brother is not naturally bad, 
 but he has been corrupted by a hard-hearted 
 woman, who has deftroyed all his good qua- 
 lities. 
 
 Lucy. Why does he reproach you fo ? 
 
 C 2 Mff. 
 
THE MERCHANT OT GUADALOUPES 
 
 Mrs. Milville. Fur not being rich. He is in- 
 deed fomewhat cruel to me. 
 
 Lucy. Your fifter-in-law treats you with a 
 contempt that makes me hate her. During 
 your whole ill nefs, at death's door, to fend only 
 onee to inquire after you ! wifhing then, no- 
 doubt, to hear you were no more ! not once to 
 call upon you ! declared hatred, open enmity, 
 is preferable to huh a cruel indifference. 
 
 Mrs. Mihille. The rich, notwithftanding the 
 flricl ties of blood, generally break all con- 
 nexion "with the poor, ; we fee that every day; 
 but 1 have a certain dignity of mind that ren- 
 ders me infenfiblc, or rather ibperior, to the in- 
 fult. We fhould never, my dear Lucy, return 
 evil for evil ; that's the way to eftablifh enmity. 
 Patience fometimes gets the better of cruelty and 
 pride Bcfidcs, for rny dear children's fake, I 
 fhould be refigned. My brother may perhaps- 
 liiien to the calls of nature, and repair, by ferv- 
 ing them, the injuries he has done their mother. 
 His fortune, Lucy, is all his own acquiring, and 
 he has a right to diipofc of it as he pleafcs. 
 
 Lucy. But, my dear miitrefs, you make my 
 heart ache to fee you at times io melancholy* 
 and figh to deep. 
 
 Mrs. Mi foil I e. I then think of the poor chil- 
 dren, and fee that their wants- will increate 
 with their years ; but I truft in Providence ; and 
 believe me, Lucy, peace relides in my heart. 
 (A knock at the door.) See who -knocks. (Lucy 
 goes out, and returns.) 
 
 Lucy. There is a itranger, Madam, wiihes 
 to fpeak with you. 
 
 Mr*. 
 
A PLAY. *3 
 
 Mrs-. MilvHle. Who can it be ? Shew the 
 peribn in. 
 
 Enter WOODVILLE. 
 
 JFoodvilte. I Tee, Madam, I alarm you ; but 
 when I (hall have made myfelf known to you, 
 you will be lefs furprifed at the liberty 1 have 
 taken : I have ibmething particular to commu- 
 nicate to you, Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Mihille. To me, Sir ? 
 
 Woodville. Yes, .Madam : condefcend, I en- 
 treat you, to grant me my requeft. 
 
 Mrs. M faille. Be feated, Sir. (She wave* 
 Lucy to retire. Mrs. Milville ami Woodville 
 feated.) 
 
 IVoodvlUe. I fee, Madam, that you do nor 
 remember me. 
 
 Mrs. Mi faille. I do not recollect ever to have 
 fcen you, Sir. 
 
 Woodville. You have feen me, Madam, but 
 you were then very young, and cannot remem- 
 ber me ; you were but ten years old, and that 
 is not an age to remember the features of" a 
 man, that change in time, efpecially when care 
 and nailery have borne him down. But the name 
 of Woodville may yet be frefh in your memory, 
 who went to America about twenty years ago r 
 
 Mrs. Mi faille. Yes, Sir, I remember him. 
 well ; he has been long dead. 
 
 Wvodville. So it was reported ; but lie ftill 
 lives ; and you now fee that reUtion of 
 yours. 
 
 Mrs. Mi faille. Yon, Sir, you are 
 
 . I fhall not diiguifc my fkuation 
 
 from 
 
14 THE MERCHANT OF GUADALOtfPE? 
 
 from you; I come, Madam* to folicit your 
 pity. 
 
 Mrs. Milvillc. My pity, Sir? To fcrve the un- 
 fortunate is only a duty. 
 
 Woodvilh. 1 dare fay you already know that 
 my youth was fpent in diilipation. Left ah 
 orphan in my infancy, and under the tuition 
 of your father, who gave me the befl ad- 
 vice, I not paying fufficient regard to it, 
 was foon difcarded by my friends. Willing 
 afterwards to make reparation for my follies, I 
 embarked for America: your worthy father gave 
 me the heft recommendations, and I was doing 
 well he died ! what a father ! what a friend ! 
 what a lofs for me! I continued in America, 
 and feemed forgot by my relations in Europe. 
 
 Mrs. Mil-ville. Did you never write to my 
 brother then ? 
 
 IVvodvilh. Pardon me, Madam, but eight or 
 ten letters remained unanfwered; I thought it 
 was the remembrance of my paft follies that 
 made my relations confpire againft me ; and 
 thinking them fufficiently atoned for by mif- 
 fortune, I ceafed in my turn to write, and falfe 
 reports were fpread of my death. I gained, by 
 my attention, the confidence of the merchant 
 under whom I ferved ; he had a daughter, whom 
 I obtained in marriage ; the father was de- 
 lighted ; his daughter loved me; and I was the 
 happieft of men. After an union of fifteen 
 years pity me I loft her ; that was a deep 
 wound, which time can never heal. The for- 
 row under which I laboured rendered life in- 
 iupportable. The fky of America had no 
 further attractions for me ; every object that 
 4 furrounded 
 
A PLAY. 
 
 furrounded me recalled to my mind the lofs I 
 had fuftained ; and I reiblved to return to 
 England. Alas ! Madam, the coaft of Spain 
 was witnefs to my fhipwreck ! 
 Mrs. MihilJe. Did you lofe all ? 
 Woodville. Every tiling. Madam, and re- 
 duced to the neceffity of travelling on foot. But 
 I learned from your generous father, that firm- 
 nefsof mind fhould always mark the man, and 
 I have borne my hardfhips with becoming forti- 
 tude. 
 
 Mrs. MihiJle. Your pitiful ftory has pene- 
 trated my heart. Have you loft every thing ? 
 
 Woodville. I fee I afflict you, Madam. I have 
 feen better days, 't is true, hut I am now re- 
 duced to the neceffity of foliciting the protec- 
 tion of thofe who will condefcend to aid me ; 
 for no one ftands more in need than myfelf. 
 
 Mrs. MHville. My dear coufin, I am poor a$ 
 well as yourfelf ; but I have, thank Heaven, a 
 little to fhare with a relation ftill more unfortu- 
 nate. 
 
 Woodville. Oh. Madam ! 
 Mrs. Mihille. If you can be fatisfled wi f h 
 my frugal repaft, you are always welcome. 
 This fervant, or rather friend, and my dear 
 children, are my only companions. 
 
 Woodville, Madam, your generofity 
 * Mrs. Mihille. I fee little of the world, and 
 feldom go out ; but I will exert myfelf, and go 
 out more. I '11 ufe all my endeavours to ferve 
 you, and fee if I can't procure you fome employ, 
 ment; though naturally timid, 1 feel myfelf 
 bold when I intercede for a friend. 
 
 Woodville. You reft ore life and hope, and add 
 
 grace 
 
TijE MERCHANT OF GUADALOUPET 
 
 grace to generality ; but as you 1eem fo inter- 
 cited on my account, may 1 inquire a little into 
 your pa ft life ? 
 
 Mrs. Mihitte. Oh, Sir! I bavefuffered many- 
 Iiardfhips ; I loft a hufband whom I adoivd"; 
 you know from experience how cruel that fepa- 
 ration is; Fortune, that began to iiiiiie upon^ 
 me, vanithcd with him, and I was leu la want* 
 
 two little daughters. 
 ' r wdville. Two httle daughters ! 
 
 Mrs. MHville. Yes, Sir. 1 had fufficient cou- 
 rage to fee my fituation without trembling ; f 
 refolved to renounce the world, that only ca~ 
 rcflcs tlie rich, and to live in retirement. But 
 may I aik how you came acquainted with my 
 a&drefs : 
 
 IFoodvuk. From your brother, Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Mihilh. From my brother? what! 
 i fc ave you fecn him ? 
 
 Wood-ullh. Yes, Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Mihilh. Well. 
 
 Woadvilh. I had the honour of being ad* 
 mitied to his apartments ; I told him the fame 
 melancholy tale I have reuted to you. 
 
 Mrs. Milville. Well, what did he. fay 5 
 What did he do? 
 
 Wouhille. Your brother, Madam, feemed 
 occupied in bulineis ; he was much furprifed 
 at my appearance ; I took the liberty to afl^ 
 l)]m your addrefs. 
 
 Airs. Milville. What did he fay t . 
 
 JVoodvilh. That you were unibrtunatc, and 
 that it was utterly impoflible tor you to affiit 
 me, 
 
 tfrs. 
 
A PLAYs 17 
 
 Mrs. MilviUe. But did he do nothing for 
 you? 
 
 Woodvilk. Nothing, Madam ; and I do not 
 murmur ; for every one is proprietor of his own 
 fortune, and matter of what he pofTefles. Had 
 he offered me alMance, I fhould willingly have 
 accepted it; for I am much difireffed for mo- 
 ney. Luckily, the people where I lodge are 
 very good, and have promiied to wait my con- 
 yen incc. 
 
 Mrs. Milvitte. Dear relation, gold is not quite 
 fo plentiful here as at my brother's; but till 
 fomething better offers, accept, I entreat you, 
 of this guinea : it is a debt I pay with joy to a 
 relation, to a friend ; take it ; it is offered with 
 a good heart. 
 
 JffaMib. Generous lady, you are not much 
 more fortunate than myfelf ; you have offered 
 me your table, I accept it with thanks that 's 
 enough ; another better able will affill me with 
 money. 
 
 Mrs. Mifoille. Take it, my poor unhappy 
 frknd. 
 
 Woodville. Will you really diftrefs yourfelf, 
 in order to relieve me? (She puts the guinea in 
 his hand, and fheds tears.) Tears of compaffion 
 fpring from your eyes ; and I oh ! oh ! oh ! 
 (Hejheds tears, and kijjes the guinea federal times, 
 fpeaks with the moft violent emotion, and rifes at 
 th& fame time.) This piece is precious to me; 
 I '11 keep it oh God ! J '11 keep it all my life. 
 
 Mrs. MilviUe. All his life ! what does he fay ? 
 
 Woodville. Yes, yes ; all my life ! But, oh ! 
 excellent woman (He kiff'es Mrs. Mihilk's 
 hand, and theguijiea^ fever al times with rapture.) 
 
 D Forgive 
 
2 8 THE MERCHANt OF GUADALOUPE: 
 
 Forgive me for having put to the proof a hear* 
 like yours ; I can no longer conceal rrtyfelf 
 forgive forgive me you 
 
 Mrs. Milville. Why all thefe violent emo- 
 tions for fo flight a favour ? 
 
 IVoodv'ilh. Slight ! You have fixed in my 
 heart a love that will flick there for ever, and 
 ripen every hour. 1 am not the poor diftreflTed 
 man you think me ; and you are my heirefs. 
 
 Mrs. Mtlville. I ? 
 
 Wcodville. Who elfe deferves the name ? 
 Providence has loaded me with riches, and I 
 was willing to make a proper ufe of them, and 
 did not wifh to be deceived in ohliging un- 
 grateful relations. My heart was delirous of 
 finding out the virtuous. The hope of fortune 
 too often renders the face of man hypocritical, 
 and makes it a flu me the appearance of benevo- 
 lence. In America I formed the plan I have 
 this day put in execution. I was refolved, to 
 try my friends, to appear in want ; the good I 
 thought would affiit me (and I am not de- 
 ceived) : with them did I determine to fhare my 
 fortune. I have at laft found the heart I 
 learched for, and with it I divide the fortune 
 kind Heaven has beftowed upon me, and do for 
 ever cafl off your unworthy brother. 
 
 Mrs. MilviUe. Oh ! do not cafl him ofL 
 
 Woodvitte. Not caft him off? Why, are you 
 of the fame blood ? Could the wretch fee his 
 lifter want the common necefTaries of life ? I 
 have not told you all ; I received from him the 
 mofr degrading treatment ; I did all I could to 
 move his pity; T aifumed the appearance of a 
 in the jriofl extreme diftrefs ; I humbly 
 
 fupplicated : 
 
A PLAY. 19 
 
 iupplicated; I looked like a man (tarving ; I 
 had the voice of one ; and what did I receive ? 
 Inhuman refufals ! Haughty pride, inlulting 
 cooluefs characterized all his expreffions ! He 
 turned me out of doors ; he uted the brutal 
 language of a rich tyrant trampling upon the 
 poor. His wife was It ill more haughty than 
 himfelf, and regarded me with an eye that 
 marked the moft cruel contempt. I mig-rt 
 perhaps have forgiven them ; but what I never 
 can forgive, as long as I hold breath, is their 
 barbarous ufage of you- A brother, rolling in 
 luxury, to fee his lifter work for fubiiftence ! 
 honour/ virtue, and every good quality, muft be 
 ftrangers to his heart. 
 
 Mrs. Milville. I never aiked him to a (lift 
 me. 
 
 JVoidville. As the law cannot punifh pride 
 and ingratitude, we Ihould be the more fe- 
 vere in chaltifing thofe vices. It is a debt due 
 to fociety (and I '11 difcharge it), to humble the 
 man that treads upon you. Come, virtuous 
 friend, I iliall give you an employment that 
 will, I am fure, pleafe you to ailift the unfor- 
 tunate ; feek for them, briner them to me, and 
 I will give them aid. (Retiring.) I have an 
 elegant houfe, you muft come and adorn it ; 
 for the mo ft fuperb palace is a miierable abode 
 without Friendfhip let her reign, let her^i/e 
 out her laws. Adieu ! (Shakes her by the hand.) 
 Adieu ! [Exit Wooflville. 
 
 Enter LUCY, crying* 
 
 Lucy. Oh, my dear miflrefs ! 
 
 D 2 Mrs* 
 
2O THE MERCHANT OP -GUADALOUPE .' 
 
 Mrs-Milville. Well, Lucy, what 's the mat- 
 ter ? why do you cry ? 
 
 Lucy. Oh, my dear miftrefs ! pardon me ; 
 I fhall cry all day I heard all the dear good 
 man faid. 
 
 Mrs. Milville. You were able to fupport my 
 adverfity, and you can't my happinds. 
 
 Lucy. No; I feel it too fenfibly (fobbing very 
 deeply.) I was fure that that P P P 
 Providence would one day reward you.-I mull 
 cry ; do let me cry I have fo much plea lure 
 in k kk crying, that i fhall k k k - 
 cry for a year, [Exeunt. Lucy crying* 
 
 Scene changes to Mr. Vanes Houfe. 
 
 Enter Mr. and Mrs. VANE, and Mr. MULSON. 
 
 Mulfon. I tell you, I know him well. 
 
 Mr. Fane. Pooh, pooh ! My dear Mulfon', 
 did you obferve his drefs ? 
 
 Mulfon. Why, his drefs a little furprifed me, 
 1 mufl confefs ; but he 's a It range chara6ler, 
 and I know him to be the rich merchant of 
 Guadaloupe. 
 
 Mr. Fane. Ha ! ha ! ha ! How you are 
 miftaken ! he's in the greatefl difirefs he had 
 all the appearance of it, I am fure : he 's a 
 poor fellow, I tell you. 
 
 Mulfim. I wifh you were half as rich ; I know 
 his face as well as I know my own ; he is a 
 widower, has no children, and is mafler of an 
 immenle fortune. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. What ! ,an immenfe fortune, and 
 no children ? 
 
 Mulfon. 
 
A PLAV, 2t 
 
 Mulfon. Exactly fo, Madam ; I faw him at 
 Guadaloupe about three years fince. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Oh ! you mufl be miftaken ; he 
 came to us to afk charity. 
 
 Mulfon. Well ! he might have afked charity ; 
 but for all that, he alone is richer than you and 
 all your neighbours put together 
 
 Mr* Vane. Oh ! but he was fhipwrecked on 
 the coaft of Spain A recollecl reading the cir- 
 cumftance in the morning papers ; why, he's 
 a coulin of mine. 
 
 Mulfon. A coniin of yours ? 
 
 Mr. Vane. Yes. 
 
 Mulfon. Then he came to try your friendfliip 
 for him. 
 
 Mr. Vane. What ? 
 
 Mid/on. That *s his chara&er in his life- 
 time he has played many fuch ftrange tricks. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. You quite alarm me, Mr. Mul- 
 fon. 
 
 Mulfon. I can affaire you, Madam, what I 
 fay is true ; your coulin is the rich merchant of 
 Guadaloupe ; I have had feveral mercantile 
 tranfaclions with him. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Is it poflible ? Did you fee him 
 at Guadaloupe? 
 
 Mr. Vane. We thought him dead twenty 
 years ago and now to come and beg ! 
 
 Mulfon. He 1 s a ft range character, and very 
 fond of furprifing people. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Can it be ? 
 
 Mulfon. He 's the moft liberal character pof- 
 
 fible ; and as he was pleafant enough to come 
 
 and alk charity, you no doubt gave him what 
 
 be wanted, and it will all end in a good joke* 
 
 4 Mr. 
 
22 THE MERCHANT OF GIUDALOUPE : 
 
 Mr. Vane. Hey ! but 1 confefs I received him 
 rather coolly. 
 
 Mulfon. I am forry for that ; he is equally 
 fenfihle of ill as of good treatment for tbofe 
 \vho regard him, he would go to the world's 
 end to ferve. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. (Afide.) Every word tears my 
 heart. 
 
 Mr. Vane. I am devil ith lorry I treated him 
 fo roughly. Mr. Mulfon, I lhall difguife nor 
 thing from you ; I confefs, we did not give 
 him the moft friendly reception. 
 
 Mulfon. How much did ha \ ha ! ha ! did 
 be aik you to lend him live hundred ; hey ? 
 
 Mr. Vane. Pooh ! what iignifies the fum ? 
 
 Mulfon, 1 beg your pardon ; you lurely could 
 not refufe to lend him five thoutand. 
 
 Mr. Vane, in the name of friendfhip, my 
 dear Mulibii,. endeavour to reconcile him to 
 us. 
 
 Mulfbn. Why, what would you have me 
 fay? ; 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Why, fay Mr. Vane had a thou- 
 fand things to vex him at the time he called; 
 that you know his good heart, and the friend- 
 thip he has for his relations ; that I had been 
 In a bad humour, and had been icolding my 
 iervants.; that we love him tenderly ; and that 
 to-morrow we fhall pay our refpecls to him, 
 and he will find us quite different people. 
 
 Mulfon. You give me rather a diiagreeabler 
 coaamiftion ; but he 's an excellent man, and 
 ,. I dare fay, forget what has happened. 
 
 Mrs. Vane, For Ilcuvcn's lake, haile ! 
 
A PLAV. 
 
 Mulfon. I '11 do my beft ;~good morning ; 
 you fhall hear of my fuccefs. [Exit Mulfori. 
 
 Mr. Vane. Well, Madam ! thefe are the ef- 
 fects of your haughty conduct ; you are the 
 caufe of my lofing this friend ; you have lieard 
 he is rich, and has no children 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Peace, blockhead ! Was he my 
 relation ? did 1 know him ? Had he been my 
 relation, I fhould not have been fuch a fool. 
 You are now properly puniflied for your flu- 
 pidity. 
 
 Mr. Fane. Why, damn it, Madam, was not 
 I going did I not want was not my hand in 
 my pocket ? was not I going to give him a 
 crown, and did not you prevent me ? 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Yes, Sir ; and I then gratified 
 you confeis it. It was then time, to be fure, 
 after all your ill language to him. 
 
 'Mr. Vane. If I have acted thus, Madam, it 
 was to conform to your cruel and avaricious 
 mind, that can't bear to give the poor a far- 
 thing, though you will fool away thoufands 
 upon your fantastical ugly face, and at a card- 
 table ; I blafh at your inhumanity, Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. You are the meaneft of wretches; 
 you did not even know how to refute him with 
 conrage ; you were timid and abaihed in his 
 pretence ; you trembled at a man, who, from 
 ^is outward appearance, did not feem to poffefs 
 a lixpence. 
 
 Mr. Fane. It was your hifulting pride that 
 
 ill moft provoke him; did did not you leave 
 I he room ? I have no patience with you did 
 not you I tell you what, Macjam ; it 's all 
 your fault ; you alone are- to blame ; and as 
 
 your 
 
*4 TttB MEHdHANT OT CttUDALQUPE 3 
 
 your conduct is the caufe of ray lofing fuch a 
 chance of enriching myielf, you fhall be an- 
 fwerable, Madam, for what I have loft. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Yes ; I '11 be anfwerable for your 
 folly. 
 
 Mr. Vane. If he cuts me off, damn me, but 
 I '11 revenge myfelf on you ; 1 '11 reduce you to 
 the ftridefi economy ;* for the fake of faving a 
 xniferable crown, you'll fee an immenfe fuc- 
 ceilion go to others. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. Go, Sir, throw yourfelf at his 
 feet, entreat him to forgive you do any thing 
 that is mean ; you are capable of it 
 
 Mr. Vane. That muft be your bulinefs, 
 Madam ; and if you difobey me, we feparate ; 
 * a woman has always the moft influence ; 
 therefore go and foften him, or you never fee 
 me more. \Exit Mr. Vane, 
 
 Mrs. Vane. What r s to be done ? This will 
 require great caution, and boldnefs too. If I 
 could but have fufpedled his riches, I would 
 have offered him my houfe, my horfes ; nothing 
 ihould have been too good for him. Where 
 was my penetration ? Oh, Fortune ! you have 
 delighted in blinding me to-day ; but as you 
 generally favour the audacious, do not think 
 to efcape. [Exit. 
 
 END OF ACT ft. 
 
 ACT 
 
FLAY. 25 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. WoodvilU slioufe, elegantly furmjhed. 
 Enter WOODYJLLE well-dreffed, leading Mrs. 
 
 MlLVILLE. 
 
 IFbodville. 
 
 WELL, my virtuous friend, you are now at 
 home ; I have no orders to give here this is 
 your houfe ; invite to it whom you pleafe; and, 
 when you permit me, I '11 he one of your vi- 
 iitors. 
 
 Mrs.Milvilh. This~my houfe ! do you think 
 I can enjoy fuch luxury ? It overpowers me. 
 
 Woodville. Let your filler, with her infolent 
 airs, fee you in this opulence ; and may the 
 convullions of humbled pride eternally torment 
 her! 
 
 Mrs. Mlhilk. Sir, you muft be fenfible, that 
 I neither ought nor can accept of fuch favours ; 
 moderate them, I entreat you : if they become 
 your opulence, they by no means become my 
 lituation. You know how I did live ; a little 
 more will make me quite content, 
 
 Woodville. My amiable friend, that uncle, 
 whofe memory will he always dear to me, or- 
 ders me, from the bottom of his tomb, to act 
 thus ; \ is he who infpires me at this moment ; 
 what I now do i# not from oflentation, but to 
 
 give 
 
26 THE MERCHANT OP GUADALOtfPE : 
 
 give an example to the rich, to learn them 
 never to defpife the poor ; to fhew them, that, 
 in one turn of her wheel. Fortune may raife 
 thofe that were at her feet, and crufh thofe at 
 her fummit. Let this leffon, if poflible, curb 
 the infolence too common to the rich. (He 
 rings enter fever al Servants.) Here are your 
 fervants, Madarn ; you will always find them 
 ready to obey your commands. Every thing 
 you fee here is yours. (He takes the guinea 
 from his pocket.) This guinea, that I will for 
 ever keep and revere ; this guinea, that might 
 indeed have faved me from ftarving this proves 
 that you will honour riches, in making a worthy 
 ufe of them. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 
 Servant. Sir, Mr. Mulfon willies to fpeak 
 with you. 
 
 Woodville. Mulfon ! Will you permit me 
 to receive him ? Shew him in. \Exit Servant. 
 
 Enter MCJLSOX. 
 
 Mulfon. Ah ! who thought to fee you in 
 Europe ! But how came you to conceal your- 
 felf fo long ? 
 
 Woodville. Becaufe I was ruined ; I was 
 fhip wrecked, and feme time ago they killed 
 me in this country ; I am, nevertheless, tole- 
 rably well. Joking apart, though, I was near 
 being drowned. 
 
 Mulfon. Ay, ay, you loft nothing ; the fea 
 is very covetous, but can't devour all. 
 
 Woodville. I have fomething left for niyfelf 
 and friends. / 
 
 Mulfon. 
 
A PLAY. 27 
 
 Mulfon. I believe fo ; and you are now come 
 to enjoy yourfelf in the bofom of your rela- 
 tions. By the by, I am charged to bring you 
 the congratulations, the excules, the refpecls 
 of two who are very much attached to you. 
 
 Woodvilk. Whom, ifyoupleafe? 
 
 Mulfon. Mr. and Mrs. Vane as good people 
 as can be : I am one of their intimate friends. 
 
 W&dvilh. One of their intimate friends ! 
 Do you know that lady ? 
 
 Mulfon. I have not the honour. 
 
 Woodinlle. What ! frequent Mr. Vane's 
 houfe his intimate friend ; and not know that 
 lady? That lady is his lifter, Sir. 
 
 Mulfon. His fitter ! what, has Mr. Vane a 
 Mer ? (He Irows to her.) Why, Sir, I know 
 all that has happened ; but at the bottom they 
 are very good people, and they hope you will 
 pardon the reception they gave you ; they beg 
 of you to allow them to vilit you, to apologize 
 for their coolnefs to you. 
 
 Woodville. Sir, I fee you are come here as 
 a mediator. Well, Sir, I'll fee them. 
 
 Mulfon. (djide.) I 've fucceeded famoufly 
 Well ! I '11 carry them the agreeable news of 
 your reconciliation; they'll be delighted, I 
 aflure you. [Exit. 
 
 Woodville. And can they have the infolence 
 to come ? that 's rather too much : in that 
 cafe I fhall have my turn. 
 
 Mrs. Mi faille. Dear coufin, good and gene- 
 rous as you are, I '11 take upon me to fpeak in 
 their favour. 
 
 Wood'ville. This is worthy of your noble 
 
 mind; but they nauft be made to feel. 'Tis 
 
 E 2 not 
 
28 THE MERCHANT OP GUADALOUPE : 
 
 not me they have infulted, but the poor and 
 helpleft the poor concealed under the coat I 
 wore ; 't is them they have inhumanly trod 
 upon, and my refentment is juft. What right 
 has a rich man to bear down his fellow- creature? 
 inftead of feeling for his wants, to treat him 
 with contempt and ridicule ? No ! fuch pride 
 fhould be punifhed, and the love of order 
 requires, that the haughty man, who treads 
 upon the head of his fellow-fubjecT:, Ihould, ia 
 his tarn, be humiliated. 
 
 Mrs. Mt faille. Did not you fay he was going 
 to give you fomething, and his wife prevented 
 him ? 
 
 Woodville. Yes ! a crown, perhaps, to get 
 rid of me ; I, however, vvifh him no harm ; 
 but iince he '11 condefcend to any bafe, mean 
 aclion, for the fake of money, it is but fair to 
 torment him, and before his eyes to reward 
 the virtuous. My revenge goes no further. 
 
 Enter Mr. and Mrs. VANE. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. My dear coufin, what an odd 
 creature you are ! Where do you learn thefe 
 droll tricks of yours ?-^-To be fure it was the 
 moft laughable Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 JVoodville. Ha ! ha ! ha ! It made you 
 laugh. Madam ; did it ? 
 
 Mr. Vane. Ha ! ha ! ha ! You aeled your 
 part to admiration. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Woodville. And fo did you and you, Ma- 
 dam. 
 
 Mr. Vane. We are juft come to ex ex 
 explain the the the the- 
 
 Mrs. 
 
A PLAY. 29 
 
 Mrs. Fane. Ye ye yes, my dear couftn ; 
 we are very forry to have received you fo coolly 
 be be but 
 
 JVoodville. But, Madam, this is not my 
 abode ; you are now in the houfe of your 
 iifter-in-law. (He fits down at the further end 
 of the room y and takes up a look, which he conti- 
 nues reading occafionally.) 
 
 Mrs. Vane. I am overjoyed at my dear lifter's 
 good fortune ; -but you are really the moll 
 extraordinary perfon poffible. 
 
 Woodvilh. No, Madam ; there are others 
 equally extraordinary, and equally ridiculous. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. You look charmingly, my dear 
 lifter ; you feem fo contented, fo happy 
 
 JVoodviHe. She will be more and more fo, 
 Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. And your dear children, how do 
 they do ? They 
 
 fVoodville. Have had time to grow ft nee you 
 faw them laft, Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Mihille. And yours, Madam ? 
 
 Woodville. Have you any children, Madam? 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Yes ; they are at fchool. 
 
 Woodville. You '11 do well to leave them 
 there, Madam ; and, above all things, take 
 care not to educate them yourfelf. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. Our dear couiin is ftill a little 
 cruel. 
 
 Mr. Fane. We confefs our faults, ar-.l we are 
 now come to make reparation for them. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. Our dear couiin has too much 
 fenfe to think any more of what has palled : 
 half London would have been deceived, and 
 have acted in the fame way. 
 
 Woodvitte. 
 
30 THE MERCHANT OF GUADALOUPE: 
 
 Woodville. The inhabitants of the metropolis 
 are much indebted to you, Madam. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. Dear filter, endeavour to make 
 peace for us. 
 
 Mrs. Mifoille. It is my fincereft wiih. 
 
 Mrs, Vane. (.After a little filence.) Gua Gua 
 Guadaloupe is faid, Sir, to be a very fine 
 country, a delightful climate, a a a Our 
 dear coulin feems very fond of reading ; I '11 
 lake the liberty of lending him fome books 
 from my library ; I have fome that are very 
 much efteemed. 
 
 Woodville. I read but little, Madam ; but I 
 have by chance ftumbled upon a book that 
 pleafes me much. 
 
 Mrs. Fane. What is it, dear coufan ? 
 
 Woodville. A feleclion of verfes they begin 
 with "Verfes on a Coat." (Reading.) " Verfes 
 on a Coat/' that will Ihew you, Madam, a 
 man who fees and feels far fuperior to thofe 
 verfes addreffed to the zephyrs, and to the 
 opera-girls I am highly pleafed with it, 
 (Reads.) 
 
 " VERSES ON A COAT. 
 
 " Oh, my coat ! how I thank you, 
 
 How much I am indebted to you ; 
 I enter a room, am not alk'd to fit down, 
 Receiv'd with a haughty and infolent frown !" 
 
 Ha! ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Mrs. Fane. How well our coufin reads ! 
 
 Woodville. Ay, and feels too, Madam : the 
 author, in fpeaking of Holland, fays, 
 
 <c Here the man makes the coat of confequence, 
 And not the coat the man of confequence. 1 ' 
 
 2 There 
 
A PLAY. 31 
 
 There is, however, nothing fo enviable as 
 money ; nothing elie is worth living for ; we 
 ihould he flaves to money, do any thing mean 
 for money. Always fhut your door againft the 
 poor man, hear not his complaints, turn him 
 out of your houfe, tread upon him 
 
 Mrs. Fane. Be not fo fevere ; helieve me, we 
 fincerely repent of what has paffed ; your 
 generoiity to my filter creates in me neither 
 envy nor jealoufy ; I rejoice at her good for- 
 tune, and I only want her friendship and yours. 
 
 Woodville. (Rifes.) Are youjincere, Madam ? 
 Do you really rejoice at her profperity ? I may 
 be miitaken ; and if fo, if you really, from the 
 bottom of your heart, love her, I '11 forget all 
 that has patted, and will neither be unjuft 
 nor revengeful ; I know that virtuous fenti- 
 ments will fometimes lie dormant in us without 
 being ftifled, and rife when the heart is really 
 moved. We have all too much need for in- 
 dulgence, and fhould pardon the repentant ; 
 if what you fay is fincere, I freely forgive you. 
 (He rings. Enter an Attorney, with papers^ &>V. 
 Servants.) I here make a free gift of all my 
 fortune to this worthy woman friendfliip and 
 juftice demand it; all the world fhall know 
 what I have done for her, and why I have done 
 fo ; I will expofe to all the world the noble 
 and generous manner in which fhe relieved 
 me, and I then think all the world will ap- 
 plaud me. My dear friend, I here offer you 
 my hand ; our hearts are, I am fure, alike. 
 
 Mrs. Mihille. Oh, my benefactor ! you de 
 ferve a better woman. 
 
 , A better! This guinea (takes out 
 
 ihe 
 
32 THE MERCHANT Of GUA DA LOUPE. 
 
 the guinea, and looks earneflly at it) tells me a 
 better cannot live. Come, Madam (to Mrs. 
 Vane) every thing is forgot, and now witnefs 
 the happinefs of your lifter and myfelf. 
 
 Mrs. Vane. (With great agitation.) I fhall 
 expire with rage. Never, never! inhuman 
 man ! 
 
 Woodville. Take her hence. (Mrs. Vane is 
 conduced out, almeft fainting ; Mr. Vane/o//oijy- 
 ing her, and looking 'very down-hearted.) Cruel 
 and ungrateful woman ! fhe is not even worthy 
 of my vengeance, and I almoft repent of iu 
 (Takes Mrs. Milville ly the hand.) Let us, 
 however, forget, in the bofom of friendihip, 
 that there exifl hearts fo bafe and envious. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 THi. 
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
EPILOGUE. 
 
 Written ly Mr. JAMES WALLACE, 
 Spoken ly Mr. LEE. 
 
 AGAIN old CuftonVs laws muft we obey 
 A truce to preface, then ; what think you of the play ? 
 ^Yet not fo faft perhaps I may be hifs'd : 
 And being fomething of a phyfiognomift, 
 Before I fpout, I '11 take a flight furvey, 
 Then tell our author what the audience fay, 
 
 Encourag'd thus by women kind and pretty, 
 (From whence, no matter St. James's or the city,) 
 I may proceed : yet flop one fquint at Pit, 
 For there it is the folemn jury fit. 
 
 Up gets haughty Wifdom ! Upon my word, 
 To introduce fuch fluff is quite abfurd ; 
 This tale of pity, and this virtue's grace, 
 111 fuit the paflions of a watering-place ! 
 A vaunt, roars timber Jack, with fcenes of forrow, 
 I fleerr away from Guadaloupe to-morrow ; 
 Befides thefe nafty wapours, dowfe my beaver, 
 Mayha/i we carry home the yellow fever ! ! ! 
 D. I. O. lifps Cheapfide Dick, in falted jacket, 
 Juft from on beard the hoy I meant the packet ; 
 I took a fail down here to laugh, not cry. 
 What fays pouting Mifs there ? Yes, fo did I. 
 
34- EPILOGUE. 
 
 Well, well ! don't fret, ' for now the play is done, 
 And foon, good folks, you '11 fee much better fun ; 
 Here, take a tafte our Margate paftime is, 
 To chatter fcandal, ogle, flare, and quiz, 
 Touch up the auctioneer, gape at Bonaparte, 
 And now and then we win and lofe a heart. 
 Our playwright's forry jade, with profe fo big, 
 He knows can neither run with afs or pig ! 
 'Mid the droll fports that take their jingling round, 
 He only tried how fentiment would found : 
 Difguis'd in rags, his wealthy Merchant came 
 To punifli vice, and profper virtue's name, 
 The proud to mortify, the poor to blefs, 
 And give, to thofe who merit, happinefs. 
 The Poet's moral then, if underftood, 
 Though out of practice, is in precept good. 
 As now my grateful eyes look round, they trace 
 A Woodville's virtues glowing on each face : 
 Contempt for riches when they 're mifapplied, 
 But reverence for them when to worth allied. 
 Miftake not, then, the generous aim in view ; 
 This leflbn is for others, not for you. 
 Good-nature beams and flatters on each fide, 
 For charity is Thanet's greatefl pride. 
 
 THE ENZ>. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
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