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
BERKELEY
Return to desk from which borrowed.
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below.
LD 21-100m-ll,'49(B7146sl6)476
YC (A
M 3869
THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY