1 /'BERKELEY f LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF V CALIFORNIA ^^^ -^ '&4 YES OR NO? a ^ugical jFarce, IN TWO ACTS. BY I. POCOCK, Es. 43 PERFORMED ITIl'jr VSirERSAL 4PPLAUSE AT TEE THEATRE-ROYAL HAY-MARKET. The MUSIC composed by Mr. C. SMITH. LONDON: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. BARKER, DRAMATIC REPOSITORY, GREAT RUSSELL-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN. 1809. [Price Is. p , CONSCIOUS of inability and inexperience, my fole attempt in this little piece, was to contrive a few ludicrous incidents, a few comic fituar tions, to difplay the peculiar powers of the Per- formers. How I have fucceeded, I leave thofe to judge who have witneffed the excellence of the a&ing, and heard the univerfal applaufes, with which it has invariably been received. " Yes or No?" is a mere {ketch, which the talents of the Performers have highly finifhed, and I take this opportunity of expreffing my fincere thanks for their exertions, which have made a trifle of fufficient confequence, to induce me to venture it in the Prefs. I. P. 320 DRAMATIS PERSONS. MEN. Sir Barometer Oldstyle Mr. Grore, Obadiah Broadbrim.* Mr. Listen, Charles Fervor. . Mr. Farley, William Seagrave ...... Mr. Smith, Drab Mr. Noble, Corporal Barrel. .-. . . .. . . . Mr. Mathews, Landlord - * Mr. Atkins, Waiter . . . ... Mr. Williams, Bailiffs Messrs. Norris, and Truman, Soldiers, Recruits, Waiters^ $c. WOMEN. Miss Penelope Snap Oldstyle.. Mrs. Darenport, Patty Seagrave Miss Kelly. The Passages marked with inverted Commas, are omitted in the Representation. YES, OR NO? ACT I. SCENE Ic A Room, with Dejk, Account Books, &c. DRAB writing* Enter OBADIAH BROADBRIM. Ola. DRAB. Drab. Here I am. (Advancing.'} Ola. Is the man, Charles Fervor^ departed ? Drab: Yea. Ola. Hem ! verily I rejoice thefeat ; for, he is by nature, refembling Satan, full of evil deeds and the ipirit of the faithful is not in him. Drab. Nay his head is light, but his heart is fterling. (with energy.) Oba. When confign'd to me, by the man named Barometer Oldftyle, his guardian, he was very young; but he encreafed not in difcretion as he advanced in years, and the flefli hath triumph'd over the fpirit. He delighted in the vanities of the world affociated with the men of blood, and learn'd the bufinefs of death. In the words of the wicked, he hath become a foldier. Drab. Yea. Oba. He hath now a'commiffion to obtain men, and train them in the ways of carnage and blood- fhed. At the town in which he is to fojourn tor this purpofe, I pofiefs fome worldly effects. 6 YES, OR NO? Drai.*Thou doft dwellings, which are rented ofthee at exorbitant fums. Oba. 'Tis true, the fpeculation hath fucceeded, and I reap the reward of induftry Drab. (Afide.) And extortion. (aloud.) Verily yea. Oba. I have therefore defired the youth Fervor, to receive the rents of a tenant, called Seagrave, who is much in arrears, and apply the amount there- of to his own emergencies. Drab. (A fide.) The man Seagrave hath no mo- ney, and the man Broadbrim knoweth it. Oba. Had he remained in London, he would doubtlefs have been entrapp'd by the men term'd bailiffs from whom I muft have releafed him, this expenfe is avoided, and the peril of the bailiffs refts on his own fhoulders. Drab. Yea. (muck affe5led 9 but endeavouring to conceal' it.) Oba. I am informed they are already in purfuit, and I have written to the guardian to warn him of the youth's abominations. Drab. (Afidt.) Verily, thouart a viper, the fpi- rit waxeth ftrong within me. (AJide, much agitated*} Oba. I have likewife written to the fitter of the aforefaid Oldftyle, by name, Penelope Snap, ve- rily, I bear the woman much affection and (hall depart in the vehicle which journeyeth to that place forthwith. Drab. (Having appeared violently agitated.) I can hear thee no more" thou haft bafely traduced a " noble youth, under thy protedion, to his guar- with the bill of fare. Per. (Within ) A lobfter, d'ye hear. Land. Yes, Sir Pen. What! (in qftoni/hment.) Sir. Oh, Landlord Pen. (Cr offing between Landlord, and Sir B. - rage, and fpeakmg 'very loud.) Hark ye, Sir YES, OR NO? 15 Sir B. Hufh fitter, the Landlord's not deaf Pen. I wifh you were dumb. Land. I hope no offence, Sir Sir B. Only a little inconvenience. Pen. Inconvenience ! (turning to Landlord.) Sir Fer. (Within,) Landlord. Land. Yes Sir- (goes to the Drum.) Pen. This is too much. Had you been lefs par- tial, brother, to that old fadiioned wheel-barrow of yours, and had it repaired and modernized in proper time, we never fhould have been in this predicament. Sir B. Sifter, fitter, I've told you a thoufand times J hate to barter prefent comfort for future conveni- ence there's an old faying, and a good one too, " a bird in the hand is worth two in the bufh." Pen. And what's the confequence ! Sir B. (Getting angry.) Why this is the confe- quence, inftead of lounging in a wheel barrow, as you are pleafed to call my carriage, you've been blefs'd with a fqueeze in a modern long ftage coach- wedged in with ten other rniferable mortals, not to mention two fick children, a dog, and a large nofe- gay, (that's modern improvement for ye!) modern convenience! modern devil j but 'tis noufe to be angry. Pen. Horrible! 'tis well we are incog, I would not have it known that Sir Barometer Oldftyle, and his Sifter Mifs Penelope Snap, travell'd in fuch a vulgar way for the univerfe. Sir B. Nonfenfe! if neceffity requires it, where's the difgrace, thofe that know me, know that I am an honeft man thofe:that don't know me, I don't care a pinch o'fnuff about (taking fnuff.) there's an old faying Pen. Pfhaw, I hate old fayings, Sir B. And I hate modern doings Madam. 1* YES, OR NO? Enter Landlord from the Drum. Land. I hope nothing unpleafant has happen'd Pen. Yes Sir, fomething very unpleafant has hap- pen 'd ; they pretended the poft-horfes were all en- gaged for the affizes, and fo jamm'd us into your How waggon, a toad in a hole was better off by half. Land. I'm very forry Sir B. That is not all, Sir, that is not all, finding no chaife was to be had, on our arrival I went in- ftantly to your abominable coach office here below, " pray, Sir, faidl, to the clerk, how many does the coach to town carry in fide" the fellow anfwered in a breath" fix before, ten behind, but they are all befpoke infide and out, and no room is left but in the boot and bafket*'- an impudent fcoun- drel, but come, let us fee the bill of fare, and as we cannot proceed take care that the beds are well aired, Land. It is very unfortunate Sir, but there's not a bed in the houfe but what's engaged, and the Cap- tain has juft befpoke the laft article we had left on the bill. [Exit. Pen. No beds! Sir B. No refrefhment! (They look at tack other in conflernation.) Thefe are thebleffings of an aflize. Pen. Oh I'm rejoiced nobody knows who we are ( FERVOR enters from bis room and Jlops to read the direction of two letters, which he holds, one in each hand. ) Per. (reading.) Sir Barometer Oldftyle - SirB. Eh! Per. And who's the other, (looking at the direc- tion of the other letter.) Mifs Penelope Snap. Pen. Ha! (fcreams.) Per. What another buftle ! My dear Madam, I hope YES OR NO? Vf Pen. Ha! (land off you're a witch; Fer. Ami? Sir B. Who are you, Sir ? F*r. Hang me if I can tell, this lady feems to know. Pray Sir, who are you ? Sir B. Sir, you feem to know me, tho' you don't know yourfelf for you have juft pronounc'd my name. Ftr. Eh ! what, Sir Barometer Oldftyle ? Sir B. The fame, and that Lady is Fer. (turning Jharp to Mifs P.) Penelope Snap, Pen. \*2.&\-~(turnsfrom him in anger.) Fer. My old guardian and his maiden fitter by the Gods ; Oh ! here will be another buftle. (afide.) Enter Corporal BARREL. Corp. They are come your honour. Fer. No? Corp. Juft arrived. Fer. Who ? the excifemen ? Corp. No, your honour, the recruits. Fer. Oh very well. \ExitCorp. Pen. What! more company! Fer. Yes, Madam, my company a fet of as fine fellows as ever eat roaft beef. (While }?ZKV OK f peak* to the Corporal, Sir B. takes the opportunity of reading the direction of the letter > which FERVOR holds care- lesfly. Sir B. That letter, Sir, feems to be direfted to me. Fer. Zounds he muft not have it yet, old Broad- brim may have told him fome of my unlucky pranks. (Afide>) Your agent in town, Sir, did me the ho- nour of entrufting me with a letter .giving it re- luttantly) am happy in having the opportunity of delivering it io early, (afide) Here'll be a buftle, C :s -S OR NO? Sir B. Worthy fellow ; yes, I fee 'tis his hand- writing, where are my fpe&acles ? Per. What the devil's- to be done now ? I'll in- vite 'em into the Drum- it's well the bed turns in- to a iofa, or the room would not hold us all. iajide.) Madam, permit me to entreat you'd do me the ho- nour to make ufe of my apartment, till you can be better accommodated it's fmall to be fure, but fnug and remarkably quiet. Pen. Sir your politenefs (curtfies.) Fer. My dear Madam urn um (kijfts her hand. ) Pen. (Afidc.) How infinitely elegant! Fer. Allow me to fhew you the door. Pen. (giving her hand). Oh how fuperior to old fafhion politenefs, is the elegance and eafe of modern manners. [Exit. Sir B. (having opened the letter, and holding his fyeRacles acrofs the paper, reads. ) " Friend, YES, da N 02 Enter Bailiffs. \fl. Bat. Holloa, Soldier, Can you direft us to to Captain Charles Fervor ? Corp. Soldier, indeed ! damn your impudence. I'd have you to know, Fm a Corporal Barrel by name, and gunpowder by nature, fo Hand clear, for I'm pretty well prim'd. zd. Bai. Well, good Corporal Barrel, can you tell u$ where Captain Fervor is ? Corf. No, don't know any fuch perfon (AJide.) He's only a Lieutenant yet. i ft. Bai. Come, my lad, direct us to him. He experts us, I aflure ye. Corp. Oh, he expefts you. does he that alters the cafe. (Corporal catches them winking at each other.) bums, bums as I hope to be made a ferjeant ! So, he expeds you, does he? (a/idc.) They are both of 'em fhockingly drunk fo I'll manoeuvre 'em. Hark'ye my lads, if I 'peach, you'll come down with the clinkum, eh humph ? Bai. O, yes we'll drink together Corp. Drink! O fie No, I'll be more careful of you y 0*1 have drank too much already no no (aftde.) Now I'll do 'em. If you think it worth while to cut with a feven (hilling bit, I'll fack the ca(h, and fhow ye the man. zd Bai. (aside.) Give it htm Tom they won't mind the expence if we can but nab the Captain. i/l Bai Well Corporal here's a crown. Corp. A crown! what d'ye mean by that, you fon of a catchpole I won't take a tizzy lefs, and, I tell you what my hearty's, if you don't this inftant down with the duft, I'll raife raife my price I will- I'll raife my price- Bai. Well then, no more words there's the mo- ney now for the man YES Oft, NO? 3S Corp. Stop don't be in fuch a confounded hurry is it a good one. (looks at it.) Bat. Now then, where is he? Corp. Who? Bat. Zounds the officer that's recruiting in this town ? Corp. Oh, aye, well he lodges at this very houfe. Bai. How is he drefs'd V Corp. You are a pretty fellow to afk how an officer is drefled why in fc^rlet, to be Cure. Bai. With a cap? Corp, To be fure what's an officer without a cap. Bai. In red, with a cap, very well. [Exeunt Bailiffs. fteady," (ing old Rofe and burn the bellows," fteady tol de rol, fteady fteady. j Enter FERVOR. Per. How now firrah I thought I ordered you to bed. Corp. Yes, and I know its' well for you I did not obey orders. You're in the very jaws of the enemy, fo the right about, quick march. Per What do you mean ? Corp. The tips are come, and you'll be nabb'd you'll be nabb'd to a certainty, if you don't go direaiy and put on a cock'd hat, and a blue coat, I fee you are a little tipiy as well as the reft, fo if you ftiould chance to meet 'em you know me- Corporal Barrel, pray make ufe of my name, t'will pafs you free free as a counterfign. E 34 YES OR Per. So I fliall be arrefted under the very nofe of my guardian, what the devil's to be done ! Corp. Obey my orders, change your drefs, and you are fafe there, make hafte. fpujhes Fervor.) Fer. 'Sdeath and fire, what are you about. Corp. A cock'd hat. (fall puking.) Per. Zounds, firrah, you'll be flogg'd Cor. In a blue coat. Fer. Diftraftion! Corp. Blue coat, &c. &c. [Exeunt, the Corp. ftillpujhing Fervor ', who endeavours to dtfengage himfelf. SCENE V. A Room in the Inn. Enter Sir BAROMETER followed by Mifs P. SNAP. Sir B. Obadiah was right my doubts are all at an end and I am a miferable man. Pen. Brother, you torture my impatience. Sir B. Aye, very likely, and when your impatience is fatisfied, your torture will be increafed to think that a countenance fo open, and a manner fo inge- nuous, fhould be the cloak and mafk of deceit and duplicity. Pen. Have you been to Seagrave's cottage ? Sir B. I have. Pen. Well? Sir B. Why the poor man confefs'd he had been obliged to enlift as a private foldier in Fervor's company. Pen. O, the reprobate! YES, OR NO? 33 Enter FERVOR. Fcr. My dear Sir Barometer, I am come now to explain Sir B. Every thing is explained Sir. I am per- fectly well fatisfied. Per. (seizing bis hand,) Didn't I tell you fo my dear Sir,~~how could you poffibly doubt me. Sir B. (releasing himfelf.) Sir, I never did doubt y OU but I have now witnefied your duplicity and proved you a profligate. I have done with you, Sir, I have done with you. Per. Zounds, another miftake! Madam, for mercy's fake plead for me. Pen. What can you poffibly urge to invalidate the teftimony of eyes and ears. Fer. A (imple tale only hear me and t SirB. Well, well, it fhall be fo, proceed Sir. Fcr. It was about two months ago that I firft law the innocent girl whofe deftru&ion I am fo unjuftly charged with. Amongft thofe tenants whom Mr. Broadbrim vifited, for the purpofe of receiving rent, I accompanied him to Seagravc's cottage, I beheld the old man enduring patiently the moft aggravated fufferings, and the fon exerting his laft remaining ftrength to piocurehim comfort andaffiftance, the daughter in ficknefs and in forrow, heedlefs of her- felf, was endeavouring to foothe the lad fad hours of an expiring parent. Sir B. Well, Sir (agitated.) Fer. Sir, I revered the mceknefs of the father, honour'd the conduct of the fon, and lov'd the virtues of the daughter. Sir B. (aside,) The fellow has choak'd me, 35 YES, OR NOB go on, Sir, proceed if you pleafe Obadiah relieved them ? Per. (firmly.) No, Sir, on the contrary, he op- prefs'd them. Sir B. Still thefe flanders, produce proof Sir,- HI hear no more. Per. Your pardon for one moment. Exit. Sir B. His manner daggers me yet pfhaw ! it is not poffible if his ftory could but be true. Per, (without.) This way Patty 1 this way. FSRVOR enters with WILLIAM and PATTY SEAGRAVE. Ha! is it can it be poffible Charles -my boy Charles (here Sir B. turns where Fervor Jlood, and en- counters the Bailiffs who enter ju/l at this time, fervor having retreated on feeing them.) SirB. So, fo f fo, my hopes were too fanguine, Oh, you are a precious fellow. Bai. (to each other.) He's not here. *d Bai. In red with a cap no. (they retire.) Sir B. (after musing.) I will not conceal him, he (hall reap the reward he merits here officers do your duty, that is your man. Bai, That no, no we want nothing of him; SirB. No! Per. (aside.) Oh, oh, this is Barrel's blue coat bufinefs. SirB. Aftonifliing! is it not Charles Fervor you are in queft of ? Bai. Ay, fare, old gentleman, but we are not to be taught our bufinefs at this time o'day. Sir B. Very well, gentlemen, you know beft; but remember there's an old faying that Bai. Ay ay, " old birds are not to be caught with chaff." YES, OR NO? 47 Sir B. Damn your old birds 4 [Exit Bailiffs. Zounds ! Pen. (restraining him.) Brother, brother- Sir B. Well, well. (The Bailiffs retire, and after examining the room, enter the Drum.) (To Fervor.) So Sir, this is another of your tricks; but I am not to be deceived. Per. Sir Barometer, it never was my intention to deceive you. I hope you will believe me when I fay, that if I had preferr'd my ownufelefs plealures, to the gratification of faving a worthy, though un- fortunate family from deftruftion, your liberal al- lowance would have been amply fufficient to have difcharged every debt of my own, and this difgrace had never happened. Will. I can prove this to be true, believe me, Sir. Pat. Indeed he is not to > blame. Pen. Brother, todifbelieve any longer were down- right obftkiacy. Sir B. I am aflail'd by doubts and truths fo ftrong, that I know not what to believe. Oh, if I could but fee Obadiah ha ! (here the Bailiff's return with Obadiah from the Drum % and they all ft art back in * Rcn ; foment.) Pen. Amazement! Will. What can this mean?" Fcr. Broadbrim! the devil! Oba. " I'll go wed Penelope, and to my bofoin take her," (attempting to get at Penclopi.) Pen. Paa, Oh the Brute take him away take him away. Sir B. Take care of him friends, he is not the perfon you are in queft of but I (hall pay the debt and recompence your trouble. [Exit Bailiffs with Obadiah^ -who attempts again to feize Mifs P* Sir B. Charles, my boy, you have been wrong'd. 38 Y 9, OR NO? Enter DRAB. Drab. * Yea, verily, he hath, I haften'd here front the great city to counteract the fchemes of the defigning Broadbrim; but they have already proved abortive, and my confcience is fatisfied. Per. My good friend. 'Drab.. Friend Barometer, I am afhamed of what hath happen'd, but we find good and evil among every defcription of men ; and whether found in my own left or thofe of thy perfuafion, I rejoice equally at the triumph of Virtue and the abafement of vice. Sir 6. Can you forgive toe. (to Charles.) How lhall 1 reward him ? (to Pen.) Pen. Give him a wife, and I will give her a pre- fent to begin the world with. Sir B. Sifter you ate right take her my boy and Heaven blefs ye both. -Henceforth I'll not believe every thing that is new, is bad ; becaufe I am old- er every thing that is old, faultlefs 5 becaufe I was once young. Ftr. Right, Sir Barometer, ftick to that, avoid prejudice, and be certain you will always find fome- thing to palliate, though perhaps not entirely excufe; Fearlefs we hear contending counfels fury, While truth and mercy guide an Englilh Jury, Boldly receive our fentence 'ere we go, Secure of juftice, be it " Yes or No." THE END* J. Barker, Printer, Great Ruifell-fheet, CoVcat-Garden. HIT OR MISS! A MUSICAL FARCE, IN TWO ACTS, PERFORMED BY THEIR MAJESTIES* SERVANTS OF THE LATE THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE, AT THE LYCEUM THEATRE. BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. AUTHOR OP " YES OR NO," &C. THE MUSIC COMPOSED BY MR. C. SMITH, THE SECOND EDITION. LONDON: PRINTED FOR W. H. WYATT, PICKET STREET, TEMPLE-BAR; BY B. M'MILIAN, BOW STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1810. [Price Tuo Shillings.'] To every Performer named in the Dra- matis Persona of this Farce, I feel myself under the greatest obligations, not only for the superior manner in which each Character is sustained, but for many judicious ob- servations which were of essential service to the Piece. ' f To Mr. Johnstone I am particularly in- debted, for his performance of a character so much beneath his inimitable powers, and for which I take this opportunity of returning my best thanks. Mrs. Sparks, Mrs. Bland, Miss Kelly, Messrs. De Camp, Penley, and Knight, dtaim my warmest acknowledgments. To Mr. Mathews I am obliged for the as- sistance he afforded me in heightening the character of Cypher, as well as for his extra- ordinary exertions in the representation of a part, which has invariably excited the most, unqualified bursts of laughter and applause. I. P. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Adam Stilling' Mr. PEN LEY. Janus Jumble Mr. DE CAMP. Dick Cypher Mr. MATTHEWS. Jerry Blossom Mr. KNIGHT. O'Rourke O'Daisy Mr. JOHNSTONS, Quill Mr. FISHER. John 4 Mr. MILLER. Servant Mr. EVANS. Mrs. Augusta Carolina Ho- > , T ' > Mrs. SPARKS. neymouth > Clara Stirling Miss KELLY. Dolly O'Daisy Mrs. BLAND. Scene A Country Town. HIT OR MISS! Act I. SCENE L An Apartment in STIRLING'S House. Enter Mrs. HONEYMOUTH and CLARA. Mrs. Honey. Well, Clara, I protest I feel quite delighted at our escape from the smoke of Lon- don : this new purchase of your father's seems to possess every charm of rural retirement. Enter STIRLING. Stir. Ah ! Clara, my dear, how do'st do ? Good day, Cousin. Well, I suppose you have had a ramble ; how d'ye like the house and grounds, eh ? Clara. Very much indeed, Sir ; 'tis really a most elegant little villa. Stir. Ah, so it ought it cost an elegant little f um of money. What do you think of it, Coz ? Mrs. Honey. O, delicious ! we shall pass our time admirably ; and with the new publications we can procure from Mr. Jumble- Stir. Pshaw ! Jumble's a puppy he hasn't a shilling in the world now- and to prevent the pos- B 8 HIT OR MISS, sibility of his ever getting one, he has begun to scribble commenc'd bookseller, and started a weekly newspaper they say most authors come to a morsel of bread, and so may he, if he happens to be lucky. Mrs. Honey. He's an excellent young man not- withstanding ; by-the-bye, I wonder he has not called; he surely must have heard of our arrival at the Cottage - Stir. The Cottage ! there's a precious nick- name for a mansion that has cost me fifteen thou- sand pounds ! The Cottage ! a place like a laby- rinth, that when I am at one end of it, . curse me if I don't lose my way before I can get to the other. Clara. Certainly the name is not very appro- priate. Stir. Appropriate ! why zounds ! you may as well call a palace a pigsty : my old friends in the 'City will think I am crazy, when they direct to old Adam Stirling at the Cottage.- (CfDaisy without , " There was a bold dragoon.") Oh, there's that noisy fellow, Rourke O'Daisy. Enter O'DAISY. O" Daisy. Eh ! I beg pardon of your Honor's honor, but there came just now a great big fel- low to the lodge gate, and kept tolling the bell, till there was a greater hubbubboo than at a wake in Ballinatrotty. Stir. An express from town, no doubt. I thought there was something a-foot. 0' Daisy. The devil a yard of him was a-foot he was outside of a horse. Mrs. Honey. Something of consequence. (S Daisy. Your Ladyship may say that thing A MUSICAL FARCE. 9 and tell no lie neither. He said it was of very great weight, and, by the powers, I believe him, or he would not have had a horse to carry it. Mrs. Honey. And what is it ? O 1 Daisy. A Letter it is he told me to deliver it immediately into the hands of the right owner; and that's the reason I came myself, because there should be no blunder. Stir. Ah, 'tis for old Adam O* Daisy. Is it ? by the powers, then, 'tis the first time I ever knew old Adam was a gentle- woman. Mrs. Honey. 'Tis for me, I dare say come, give it me. O } Daisy. Give it you the name's Honey- mouth this must be the honeymouth, for it cer- tainly belongs to the sweetest lady of the two, and therefore you have nothing at all to do with it. (Giving it to Clara). Leave me alone for the service of the ladies I'm sure to be right there, whether Fm wrong or not. O bless your sweet lips ! that's the most gentlemanly young lady I have seen since I left Ballinatrotty. [Exit O'Daisy. Stir. AugustaCarolina! there's for you there's the effect of novel reading. Her husband (rest his soul) happened to be called Honeymouth, so that his name now attaches to her like a libel. Honeymouth ! her mouth looks a great deal more like the family lemon-squeezer (aside). Mrs. Honey. (Looking at the Letter). From Mr. Jumble, I protest. Clara. Indeed ! from Mr. Jumble ! Stir. So, now I shall be plagued with him. Well, what says he ? Mrs. Honey. You shall hear. (Reads). "Allow B 2 10 HIT OR MISS, "me, dearest Madam, to congratulate myself on " your arrival at the Cottage : I shall take the " earliest opportunity of kissing your fair hands, " and those of my youthful companion, Clara." Stir. The devil he will ! Mrs. Honey. Stay, here's a postscript. (Reads). " I have just received from town a new novel, " called * The Victorious Lover ;' and I hope you "will think he has sufficient merit to authorise u my introducing him at the Cottage." Delight- ful ! Stir. Yes, very delightful. I see how 'twill be this is to be the Enchanted Castle, Clara an imprisoned damsel, I am to be the cock giant, and you the fiery dragon. Mrs. Honey. How 1 Stir. D n his impudence! yes, yes! but when he and his " Victorious Lover" get footing in this house, he shall be welcome to keep it for his pains. Mrs. Honey. I am astonish'd, cousin Stirling ^ old Mr. Jumble was your most intimate friend. Stir. So he was, but that's no reason I should make his son a present of my daughter. Old Jumble hinted to me, that a small estate would fall to his son when he came of age ; but when we open'd the Will, there was hardly enough to pay for the funeral. But come, I must have a little private conversation with you about young Cypher. I have ask'd him down for a day or two. I never saw him, but I hear he's a quiet steady fellow none of your novel readers he has ten thousand pounds in his pocket, and yet sticks to businessthat's the boy for om Adam Stirling. Come along, Coz. [Epeunt Stirling and Mrs. Honeymouth. A MUSICAL FARCE. 11 Clara. Brought up together from our earliest youth, how cruel of my father thus to separate me from the only man I can ever love as a hus- band. Love too often withers like a gaudy flower ; but when friendship is the soil it springs from, like the constant ivy, it will thrive for ever. SONG CLAKA. I. Yes, well I remember how happy the hours I pass'd with my love in the cool shady bow'rs j How cheerful, how gaily, time flitted away, Pleasure beam* d on each minute, Hope brighten'd each day: Ah ! little then thinking that soon overcast, Our hopes would be withered, our joy? would be past. II. " In this life of uncertainty oft it appears, Those who smile in the morn, in the evening shed tears ; So fate on the sun of my day cast a frown, Tho' in smiles it arose, 'twill in sorrow go down : For my bosom is chill'd by adversity's blast, And my hopes are all wither d, my joys are all past. HI. " But grateful sensations, if friendship can give, tc For them, and them only, I still wish to live. " And when 'tis my lot from this life to depart, ' ( Tho' dcadeu'd my feelings, tho' cold my poor heart, " Deep and keen will the pang be, as sighing at last fc My hopes were soon withei'd, my joys were soon past." [finfe. 19 HIT OR MISS, - SCENE II. A Lodge in the Cottage Style, with House qnd Garden, seen through the Gate. (Dolly 0* Daisy singing without.) " He's straight and he's tall as a poplar tree, " His cheeks are as red as a rose," &c. Enter DOLLY O'DAisyyhm the Lodge. Dol/y. Oh clear, I wish Rourke was come back ; L don't half like his staying at the house so long, it's for no good, that's a sure thing ; and as to his taking the letter, 'tis nothing more than an excuse to see that gauky creature, Sally Broom, the housemaid. Heigh ho ! I didn't think he'd have been half so wild after I married him ; but these Irishmen are the very devil after the girls, that's the truth on't. 0' Daisy (Coming through the gate). Ah ! ah ! my beautiful t'other half, is it yourself that's there ? Dolly. So ! you are come at last Cf Daisy. At last ! you would not have me come before I was gone, would you ? Oh ! Botheram, by all the butter- milk and potatoes in Old Ire- land, but my darling here, Mrs. Dolly O'Daisy, is a little bit jealous. Dolly, Well, and if I was, it's enough to make any poor girl jealous ; you had no business to stay so long. O' Daisy. How the devil's a man to do a job properly without you give him time ; but it's the A MUSICAL FARCE. IS way with all the wives in the world man, wo- man and child. Enter STIRLING. Stir. Rourke, here, take this letter to Mr. Jumble directly. O* Daisy (aside). By St. Patrick, I believe they all take me for a two-penny post. Stir. And d'ye hear ? O Daisy. Yes, your Honour. Stir. If he should call here, say I am not at home I don't chuse to see him. O Daisy. Not see^him ! not see young Mr. Jumble ! Och ! if his poor dead father, my late master, could but listen to what you were saying, he wouldn't believe it with his own eyes. Stir, (half aside). I desired Mr. Cypher to bring all old Jumble's papers down with him: I'll clear my hands of the business as soon as possible. Why don't you go ? CfDaisy. Because, your Honour, O'Rourke O'Daisy never in his life before went such a dirty road, and by my soul he does not know jhe way. Stir. Be off immediately. Zounds ! I shall be choaked with rage : I wish that fellow was at Bal- linatrotty again with all my heart. [Exit. O'Daisy (aside). Och! don't be in a hurry, and you'll be choak'd with something else. Ballina- trotty indeed ! to be sure they wouldn't be happy to see me and my darling little spouse trotting over the water again to 'em. U HIT OR MISS, DUETT O'DAISY, DOLLY. I. Cf Daisy. Long ago from my country I trotted away, Knowing well how to rake, and to tumble the hay j With a wife now returning, it much better suits, To leave raking alone, and be raising recruits. Then arrah, be aisy, Sweet Mrs. O'Daisy, To tickle my heart, to be sure she'd the knack ; While the merry bells ring, We shall caper and sing, Huzza ! for Old Ireland, with hubbubboo whack I Both. Then, arrah, be aisy, &c. II. Dolly. Then the lads and the lasses, dear heart how they'll stare, When I sport my new olothes first at Donnybrook fair, In my little straw hat, tied with green silken bows, In my shoe a smart knot, in my bosom a rose, They'll all cry be aisy, Tis Mrs. O'Daisy, The sweet little creature that Rourke has brought back, While the merry bells ring, We shall caper and sing, Huzza, for Old Ireland, with hubbubboo whack ! Both. Then, arrah, be aisy, &c. [Exit O'Daisy and Dolly. SCENE III. A Room with Books, Papers, Enter JUMBLE. Jumb. No letter ! no message ! Oh ! these are the charming agonies of love (as Thomson says), A MUSICAL FARCE. 15 xvhose miseries delight. No answer ! and on my birth-day toolCruel girl! but I'm too anxious * so I'll write an essay on Patience ; business may keep love out of my head, but it never can .root it from my heart. Enter QUILL; Quill. Sir ! Mr. Foolscap has just been here, and says he's determined to print his own works. Jumb. So much the better for the 'chandler's shops. Quill. And Mr. Grim, Sir, has just call'd to see the first proof; but the printer's devil has not brought it. Jumble. What's the work ? Quill. A Satire he calls it " The Reward of Vice." Jumble. The Reward of Vice. Oh, tell him. when there is a proof of it, the devil will bring it him. Quill. Yes, Sir. Jumble. Quill, bring those papers : I'll arrange them for the press ; by that time they may send for me to the Cottage. Oh, Clara ! should I have forgotten your birth-day ! Should I have neglected you any day! -Now then, what is there to insert ? (Reads). Wanted : A wife A great show of horned cattle A lottery ticket - A high- way robbery A public masquerade A private mad-house and all these paragraphs. Quill. Yes, Sir. Jumble. Paid for ? QuilL Yes, Sir. [Jumble sits at the Table. 16 HIT OR MISS, Enter JERRY BLOSSOM. Jerry. When Mr. Jumble be'ant busy, I'd speak a word with 'un. Quill. Then you'll wait long enough, I can tell youhe's as little leisure as business ; he's always hurried for time tho' he's nothing to do. [Exit Quill, Jumble. By the bye, I wonder Mrs. Honey- mouth is not more anxious for the " Victorious Lover." I am obliged to tickle that old woman's palate with a novel, as ./Eneas did the monster Cerberus with a sop ; her affectation, vanity, and pride, is my monster my dog with three heads. Jerry. A dog with three heads ! Dang it, I wish I was well out o' th house. Jumble. Hey ! Who are you, friend ? Jerry. I I I be Jerry Blossom, Zur. I \vant our Dolly I Jumble. And who the devil is our Dolly ? Jerry. A dog with three heads Jumble. What ! Jerry. Sir ! Jumble. Who the devil is our Dolly ? Jerry. She be my sister, Znr ; I be come all the way from the North to find her. Jumble. Oh, I understand you want to ad- vertise in my paper ; I'll speak to you presently. Here (gives him a Book}, did you ever learn to read ? Jerry. Yes ; when I was at charity school, they gave me a good book. Jumble (throwing down the Book J. Did they? You were in luck, we don't print such things A MUSICAL FARCE. 17 now a-days. Sit down and spell the county news- paper. [Giving him a Newspaper* Jerry. Thank you thank you kindly, Zur Dear heart, I be mortal tired. (Sits down). I ha'nt been much used to read any but out of my own books ; but howsomever I'll try Swallow'd poison Jumble (at his Table). Yesterday was married Mr. Sapling, aged eighteen, to Mrs. Evergreen, aged seventy-six Jerry. The effects have not transpired Jumble. No reason has been given for this rash action. Jerry (reading). This morning the Right Hon. the Speaker Jumble (writing). Convicted of keeping a dis- orderly house. Umph! mad bull. Jerry. Hey (again reading) Yesterday the new Lord Mayor was sworn into office Jumble (reading). And afterwards tosS'd and gor'd many people. Now, Jerry Blossom, what's your pleasure with me ? Jerry. Thank ye kindly, Zur I ha* no plea- sure with you. (Bows). My sister, Dolly Blos- som by name, she liv'd in sarvice somewhere in this neighbourhood, and us I hadn't seen her awhile, I thought I'd just trudge up to these parts and enquire her out ; and as you be Master at News, I thought to advertise and the like, buj; devil a bit can I find her, and I be nation vex'd about it, seeing I might ha' gotten a place here- about my sen. Jumble (aside). Egad ! they want a servant at the Cottage if so, this fellow may be useful to me. (To Jerry). At about a mile from the town, lives a gentleman of the name of Stirling it's c 2 IS HIT OR MISS, colled the Cottage enquire there, he wants a servant. Jerry. Thank ye, Zur, thank ye heartily. (Baws). D n the dog with three heads I don't mind him a bit he's so kindly spoken Pd stay with him in spite of the devil himself, an' he'd ha* me. [Exit. [.As he goes out he meets O'Daisy, who bows ridiculously ', he returns it awkwardly. r O'Daisy. A mighty civil little jontleman that. Jumble. Now Rourke 5 your news what says my love< my O'Daisy (aside). I shall never be able to speak to him my heart seems to have cliznb'd up to my throat on purpose to choak me. Jumble. He hesitates perhaps she I dread to ask Rourke speak to me is Clara ill ? O'Daisy. O, No 'tis not that ! Jumble. Thank Heaven ! O'Daisy. It is not often that an Irishman is troubled with bash ful ness ; but may the devil fire me, if I an't asham'd to tell you, so you must ask this letter, and be d d to't. [Giving it him. Jumble (reading). So, so, so ! Denied reject- ed (Wiping his eyes hastily). No matter the spring of life is but an April day chequer'd with smiles and tears : the passing cloud may for a time obscure its lustre, but he who longer pines beneath the shade will feel the sun-beam warmest. - When my poor father died- O'Daisy. Och ! long life to him, I say. When he happen'd to vex poor Rourke O'Daisy, he always made a pretty little gentlemanly excuse ; but when he died, he vext me more than all the rest in a lump and d n the excuse he made for that. . A MUSICAL FARCE. 19 Jumble. Yet why should I repine ? I -have health, spirits, and a clear conscience. Rourke, come hither! I am now of age. Had my poor father lived, I should this day have received a small property, and the hand of my Clara. The property has vanished no one knows how. But if Clara prove constant, like a second Proteus, I'll so transform myself, that I'll win her, in spite of bolts, bars, and locks. Faint heart ne'er won fair lady yet; and Hit or Miss is the word, Love rules tiie court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above ; For love is heaven, and heaven is love. \Eorit Jumble, 0* Daisy. Och ! to be sure, but the Ladies can change as well as Mr. Proteus, or any other gen- tleman. Don't I remember, before I had the good fortune to marry my dear darling dumpling, Mrs. Dolly O'Daisy, how my friend Tom Treacle was treated by that weathercock devil, Miss Molly O'Rigge : I shall never forget it these two hun- dred years to come. SONG O'DAISY. [For the words of this Song, the Author is indebted to a I. At Cork Hv'd Miss Molly O'Rigge, With a nose like the snout of a pig; Long ctfroity locks, And ten pound in the stocks, Was the fortune of .\{olly O'Kigoe * \^ hiit ii.UrauiirYii Molly O'Rigge-! 20 HJT OR MISS, II. Torn Treacle lov'd Molly O'Rigge ; A pert little tea-dealing prig. Says he, Molly, my dove, My heart's brim-full of love. Says she, Grocer, I don't care a fig. What a hard-hearted Molly O'Rigge ! III. I hate men, quoth Molly O'Rigge $ In love they're a mere whirligig : But Cornelius O'Whack Gave her heart such a smack, That to church they both caper'd a jig * What a false-hearted Molly O'Rigge ! IV. Says the tea-dealer, Molly O'Rigge, My heart is with jealousy big. Says she, hold your clack I'm now Mistress O'Whack I'm no longer Molly O'Rigge - } Good bye, Mistress Molly O'Rigge. [Exit 'O'Daisy. SCENE IV. The Lodge. JEBRY and DOLLY came down from the Lodge. Jerry. He! he! he! wounds! I never was better pleased in all my born days. And zo you be married, be you ? Ecod, then I might ha' search'*! long enow for Dolly Blossom, and ne'er ha' found her after all. But, Dolly, I thought you and Robin Redpole used to keep company ? Dolly. Oh ! so we did; but, Lord f if I had \vaited for him, I might not have had a husband yet. A MUSICAL FARCE. SONG -DOLLY. When Robin, dress'd out in his holiday clothes, First came to our cottage to woo, He said I was fair as th' full-blossom' d rose, And swore that he lov'd me so true : Then he kiss'd me, and begg'd I would mention the day Would make me for ever his own j But I pettishly answer'd, Don't tease me so, pray : Can't you let a young woman alone Fal, la, la. He cried, My dear girl, 'twixt the cup and the lip The sweets are uncertain, they say j And you, like some others, may let the time slip, So take me, while take me you may. Then tarry no more, but to-morrow let's wed, To-morrow I'll make you my bride Says I, that's a thing not so soon done as said j Then he gap'd like a fool while I cried Fal, la, la. Enter O'DAISY. 0' Daisy. Sure that's the civil gentleman I saw at Mr. Jumble's. Jerry. Why, Dolly, you do sing better than ever. But I say, you sent Robin off with a fine slap o'th face. O'Daisy (aside). Wait awhile ago, my fine fellow, and I'll send you off just in the same way. Dolly. O dear, yes! your lovers that talk so much, are seldom worth marrying. 0' Daisy (behind.) Egad its myself they are talking about ! There's treason for you ! there's a Guy Faux in petticoats ! Jerry. Well, I be main glad to see you, so give us a buss, Dolly. 99 HIT OR MISS, O 1 Daisy. Oh ! toi>e sure. Whew ! (whistles)* Damn that fellow, he's been talking Irish to my wife, or lie could not have got so far as that al- ready. (O* Daisy goes up to them, and makes a low bow to Jerry, ivho returns it as ctt Jumble's library)* Dolly. Oh 1 Rourke, I'm glad you're come back. Brother was longing to see you. O' Daisy. Brother ! Aye, and if I had caught the Great Mogul kissing yon, you'd have sworn he was your cousin -germ an. (To Jerry). Hark'ee, Mr. Clodhopper Dolly. Why, Rourke, don't be such a fool : 'Twas but t'other day you were wishing to see Jerry Blossom-^-and now he's here, you want to quarrel. 0' Daisy. Oh, blarney! didn't you tell me your' brother was born in Scotland ?. Jerry. Well ! and she told nought but the truth. I was born in Scotland ; but I saw day- light first in England, for all that I came into the world in a waggon. 0" Daisy. Och ! was that it ! Born in Scot- land and saw day-light in a waggon Ha ! ha ! Give me your hands, my darlings ; depend on't, we three shall make a mighty loving couple. E?iter STIRLING and CLARA. Stir. Don't talk to me, Clara. Mr. Cypher lias the reputation of a money -getting fellow, who sticks to business. (To 0' Daisy.) Well ! have you obey'd my orders ? O* Daisy. I have taken the letter, your Honour. , Stir. Well, and what said he ? O' Daisy. Not much ; but he seemed to think* A MUSICAL FARCE. ^ that when a man broke his word, he was a great, big blackguard, and that Miss Clara was as much his wife as she was her own father's daughter every bit; and then, said he very genteelly, I'll just go and ask Proteus I think he call'd him to help him to break open all the doors and win- dows in the house, but what he'd get his own property. Stir. The devil he did! Zounds! I haven't seen the fellow since his father's death ; and if the stripling should be grown out of my know- ledge, he may get into the house before I'm aware of it. . (Seeing Jerry). Who's that fellow ? 'Daisy. My most beautiful brother-in-law, your Honour- -Mr. Jerry Blossom, Esq. Jerry. Yes, Sir, I want a place Stir. Zounds ! I shall grow quite suspicious. Enter Servant. 0" Daisy. Why, what do you wdnt? fc My Master rr O Daisy. There he is. [Exit, Scrv. Sir, there's a poor tnan wants you. FINALE. Jumlle (without}. Pity, friends, oh pity, pray,* A weary soldier (enter sj, old and wounded \ Stirling. What the devil does he say ? By treachery I'm so surrounded. Clara and Dolly. Sad and dreary is his way He's a soldier poor and wounded. Stirling. I'll hire that lout he may assist The schemes of Jumble to resist. 24 HIT OR MISS, Jumlle. What the devil's to be done ? I must either fight or run. Footman. What the devil's to be done ? Jerry. He must either fight or run. Jumble. I must either fight or run. Stirling. I wish that fellow was departed. (To lie). Get you gone. Clara. He's broken-hearted. O' Daisy. Then pity, Sir, ah, pity, pray 2)olly. A weary soldier, old and wounded. Sad and dreary is his way Stirling. By treachery I'm so surrounded. I'll hire that lout he may assist The schemes of Jumble to resist. Jumlle (as x I be come all the way from the North for a Blossom, \ place having < My name's Jerry Blossom, don't doubt me : changed f What 1 feel in my heart you may see in my fa'cev Dresses}. ^ For I have no disguises about me. Jerry (as Jumble). Pity, Sir, now pity, pray, A weary soldier, old and wounded ! Stir, (to Jumlle). Send that vagabond away By treachery I'm so surrounded, I must guard against surprises. Jumlle. Your Honour's orders I obey (crosses to Jer.J Jerry. Pity, Sir, a soldier, pray ! Ornnes. Lovers come in all disguises. [Exit Jerry on one side ,- the rest through the Gate, Jumble foltoiving. OP THE FUtST ACT. Act II. SCENE I. The Lodge, Enter O'DAISY. 0" Daisy. Oh ! this love makes a rare bustle amongst us all a pretty kettle of fish, indeed, as the man said, when he over-roasted a shoulder of mutton and if old Mr. Stirling should hap- pen to find it all out, he'd pack me off in -a hurry. Well, and if he does, so much the better I'll take a trip to neat little Ireland, the land of whisky, pretty girls, lads of wax, and mealy potatoes. SONG O'DAISY. I. Oh ! the land of sweet Erin's a land of delight, The women can love, and the men can all fight ; We have hearts for the girls we have arms for our foes, And they both are triumphant, as all the world knows. If they talk of politeness, we beat them at that For when Mounseer came courting, a rival to Pat, He cried, my dear jewel, you're quite at a stand, So pray take a foot, just to lend you a hand. Then let us be frisky, and tipple the whisky, Long life to the land of dear liberty's joys j No country whatever has power to sever The Shamrock, the Rose, and the Thistle, my boys. P2 26 HIT OR MISS, II. They talk how they live why, its blarney and stuff j For a man, when he's hungry, can eat fast enough. Is not teaching a live man to live, all my eye ? ]>t 'err. come over here, and we'll teach 'em to die. Their frogs and soup-maigre are nothing but froth, To our beef, and potatoes, and Scotch barley broth. Then what country for living as Erin so fit, Hospitality's home, and the birth-place of wit. Then let us be frisky, &c. III. They may talk of their wonders as long as they please - By St. Patrick, their swans are all nothing but geese ! They say they can fight, but. 'tis all they can say ; For as soon as we charge they as soon run away. Then, oh ! may the land that grows out of the sea, Flourish long in prosperity, happy and free; For England, and Ireland, and Scotland can prove, They eutshine them in courage, in beauty, and love. Then let us be frisky, &c. [Exit. SCENE II. An Apartment at STIRLING'S. Enter JUMBLE and CLARA. Jumble. Ah ! Clara, my love, here ! secure this paper quick, quick. , Clara. What is it ? Jumble. A plan of .escape. An opportunity of speaking to you was so uncertain, I thought it best to write. But I must be gone, while the coast is clear. Zounds ! here's somebody else away, away ! [Exit Clara, dropping the Paper. A MUSICAL FARCE- 27 Enter Mrs. HONEYMOUTH. [Jumble stands aside. Mrs. Honey. How unfortunate, that my Cousin should be so inveterate against Mr. Jumble \ declare it almost precludes the hope I had so long and fondly cherished, of one day making him my husband. Delightful thought ! his manners so accomplished, his person so elegant I am con- vinced that I am the only woman, he intends to make his bride. Jumble ^aside). The devil ! if I don't make my escape soon, instead of my running away with a woman, egad ! a woman will run away with me 'Sdeath ! another interruption. Enter STIRLING. Stir, (calling). Clara! Cousin! Oh, you are there, Coz; but whore's Clara? I don't like to trust her out of my sight a moment and as to that booby Jerry Blossom, though he has not been half an hour in the house, I dare say he'll take the fair side of the question, so I'll turn him out directly (seeing the paper)- Hey ! what have we here ? Jumble (aside). Confusion ! the paper I gave Clara Stir. A letter without a seal and I declare without a direction. Mrs. Honey. Without a direction ? Stir. Let me see Hey ! Jerry, what do you want ? Jumble (changing his voice). I do want that paper, an'it please you, Zur ! 28 HIT OR MISS, Stir? Oh ! you want this paper, do you ? (feel- ing in his pockets). Where are my glasses? Jumble. Yes, Zur I dropt 'em out of my pocket. Stir. Out of your pocket ? I thought so (feeling his own pockets quicker) Where the plague are my spectacles (to Jerry) And pray what is it, Sir ? Jumble. It It It's a paper, Zur 1 Stir. A paper, is it? ha. Jumble. Yes, Zur ! to certify my character, Zur! Stir. Oh ! It's your character; well, I hope it's a good one but I've a strong suspicion that you're a great rogue, Jerry. Jumble. Have you, by gom ? Stir. Where the devil are my spectacles yVw Stirling* hurry he farts the Spectacles out of his pocket Jumble picks them up, and taking them quickly out, returns him the case}. Death and fury 1 , they are not in the case: here Coz, you read it. [Giving the paper to Mrs. Honey mouth. Jumble (aside). What the devil's to be done now ? I have it: Clara's name is not mentioned, and she will believe it is intended for herself (to Stirling) Zur! I ha' found your spectacles (Aside to Mrs. Honeymouth)li i s from Mr. Jumble they must have dropped out of the case. Stir. Oh ! then I can read it myself. Jumble. What the devil's to be done now ? Mrs. Honey, (looking at the paper). Dear me ! a prescription how careless, to have dropp'd it ! I would not have lost it for the world. A MUSICAL FARCE. 29 Jumble (aside). Upon my soul I believe you (feeling in his pockets). Then what can become ? Oh ! dear, dear, I ha' lost my character. Stir. Curse me if I think you ever had one to lose. Mrs. Honey, (aside). Exquisite sensations I protest this proof of his attachment quite over- powers me, [Exit* Stir. I wish this Mr. Cypher was arrived from London : if he does but propose for Clara, all my cares and fears will be over. Hey \ (seeing Jumble looking through the key-hole). What are you about, hey? looking for your character ? get out of this house begone, I tell you ! they all con- nive to deceive me. Jumble. If I deceive you, Zur, never trust me Stir. No, I never will trust you I won't trust any body I won't even trust myself. I'll keep one eye awake, while the other goes to sleep I will so be off be off, I tell you. Jumble. Your humble sarvant, Zur ! [Exeunt. " Enter CLARA looking for the Paper. " Clara. " No, it is not here where can I " have dropt it ? Should my father discover I " dread the thought, yet still I feel unable to re- " sist the impulse of affection fostered as mine " has been from infancy." " SONGCLARA. I. " When first he left his native shore, " To wander o'er the trackless main ; " Tom sigh'd to think that he no more " His native land might see again. 30 HIT OR MISS, " For ah ! the friends he left were dear, 44 The girl he lov'd was fair and kind, " And when he .Iropt a glistering tear, ." Twas shed tor those he left behind, " To fight for fame and glory . II. But in the battle's rude alarms, Wh'.-n ev'ry danger flits around, The thought of them his bosom warms, And foremost in the fight he's found. No sighs, no tears, can then molest, For love with friendship thus combin'd, Still cheers a gallant seaman's breast, Still animates a Briton's mind, " To fight for fame and glory." tit CLABA. [Eri SCENE III. At JUMBLE'S. Enter QUILL. . Quill. Bless my soul ! I wonder what Mr. Jumble will do next he has just refused to insert a paragraph, because, he says, 'tis false and scandalous I wonder where he'll find readers, if he prints nothing but truth and morality (a crash)- What the deuce is that ? Cypher (without). That's it that's right (Enters with Jerry Blossom, carrying a large Bundle of Papers) that's prime ! that's bang up Jerry. Yes, but just now you came bang down, Cypher. Never mind it's prime. Jerry. Why ! be it, tho' ? A MUSICAL FARCE. 31 Cypher. To be sure, if I hadn't turned the leader neatly over the old woman I should have dash'd neck and crop into the china shop (to Quill) Here, help me off with my Benjamin I say, do you know whereabouts a man of the name of Jumble lives in this town ? Quill. Yes ! in this house. Cypher. No ! Quill. Yes! Cypher. That's lucky (to Jerry) Set down that infernal load, it belongs to him (to Quill) Pray, Sir! who are you? Quill. Who am I ? I'll tell you what, young fellow, I shou'dn't wonder if you were to be dis- charged for this flourish Cypher. Discharged ! Jerry. Aye and if you call driving over posts and old women prime, hang me if I think you'll ever get another place. So you'd better make the best of a bad matter, and help your fellow sar- vant to set tackle in order again there be one o'th sharps broke all to shivers, and as you be coachman, you know Cypher. Discharged ! and fellow servant ! Why spoonies sawnies clods, have you the superlative ignorance and impudence to mistake Richard Cypher, Esq. Attorney and Solicitor, for a Servant ? Jerry. To be sure. Didn't you sit cheek by jowl, and take all the trouble, while he sat at his ease, and chatter'd to you as if you were his groom ? Cypher. What the devil then ! - do you sup- pose I let my coachman drive me ? Quill.- If not, why did you hire him ? Cypher. Hey ! that's a poser, a proper setter d n me if I know, though I've studied the law. 32 HIT OR MISS, Jerry. I'll tell yon what, my lad, though we be country folks, we're not to be hum'd. Fine Lon- don gentlemen don't demean themselves to do sarvant's work; or if they do take a bit of a drive now and then for pleasure or exercise, like you won't make us believe they clap on a livery like that to do it in. Cypher* A livery ! Confusion and consterna- tion ! A livery ! the honourable Uniform of the "Neck or Nothing." A livery ! Have I left the practice of the Courts to practise driving, and after unwearied attention, to become a prime whip, instead of a prime lawyer only arrived at the honourable distinction of being mistaken for a coachman. Jerry. Why, be'ant you, tho' ? Cypher. Be'ant I, spooney ? Quill. Sir, I beg pardon. I see the error, and hope you'll forgive it ; but when gentlemen as- sociate with their servants, talk like their ser- vants, do their servant's work, and dress like their servants ; they ought not to be offended at a stranger's not knowing the master from the man. [Exit. Cypher (aside). That fellow's Prime ! he jnust have studied the law. Jerry. Well, Zur, and if you ha' studied the law, 'tis my fancy you can drive a better trade at that any time, I assure you, Zur ; for I never saw any body drive worse never : I don't flatter, Zur. Cypher. No, d me if you do (aside). Primely I should be rated, if this were known at the Club. Ignorant sawney ! drive bad indeed ! Let me tell you, sirrah, I'm prime I am one of the best whips in town. A MUSICAL FARCE. 33 Jerry. Ha ! very likely but you be the worst in the country, for all that. Cypher. Who the devil made you a judge, Johnny Raw. I've had a complete education gone through all the gradations of buggy, gig* and dog-cart, tandem, curricle, unicorn, and four-in-hand neglected nothing clash'd at every thing pegg'd at a jervy lool'd a mail-coach and. now having attained the credit of being bang up, have met the reward of all my labours, by being elected Member of a Society who are famous for having repeatedly saved their necks by sheer management and dexterity. Jerry. Yes I know you said you were a lawyer, ha, ha [Exit. Cypher. Hey ! What dy'e mean by that, you rhinoceros, you come, be off ya hipl Enter JUMBLE. Jumble. Still unfortunate ! Still doom'd to dis- appointment ! Had not Clara dropt the paper, all might have been well. To see her again is impossible, Stirling's suspicions are so awake ; and were I to send, Rourke would make some infernal blunder. Oh, there are the papers -the Attorney, I know, was a man of the name of Cypher (sees Cypher) that's his servant, I sup- pose. [Cypher comes down the Stage with tilt Papers. Cypher. Mr. Jumble Sir, I was desired by my employer to drop this parcel Jumble (aside). Employer E2 34 HIT OR MISS, Cypher. They are papers, Sir, which belonged to the late Rev. Mr. Jumble, your father Jumble. Returned to me, I presume, by desire of Mr. Stirling your master, I believe, had the care of them Cypher. My master ! (aside) Oh, he means old Latitat, whom I succeeded. Yes, Sir, they were rather a bore to be sure, as I intended bring- ing a brace of pointers in the dog-cart, to amuse myself while staying at the Cottage. Jumble (aside). A brace of pointers ! these London servants are more independent than their masters. This is a pleasant sort of life you lead, friend. Cypher. Friend ! that's a rum name for a law- yer ! Why yes, Sir I can't say but I've come it pretty strong since I first handled the ribbands I'm prime like to make a splash always bang up, except when I made a small mistake once in the Old Bailey happen'd to take the wrong side tho' I was but a green-horn then a sort of first offence. Jumble. For which, I suppose^, you ought to have been turn'd off. Cypher. Turn'd off! (aside) D n the fel- low, he surely does not mean to insinuate I ought to have been scragg'd. No, Sir no not quite so bad as that. Jumble. Pray, Sir, are you going to the Cot- tage ? Cypher. Bang, slap right an end. Jumble. Will you convey a letter for me ? I know what is usual on these occasions here's a crown. Cypher (significantly). Six and eight- pence A MUSICAL FARCE. 35 a letter's always six and eight-pence, Sir I see you haven't studied the law. Jumble (aside). Mercenary rascal ! but there's not a moment to be lost. Well, Sir, here's your demand, and half a crown for the trouble you have had Cypher. Half-a-crown ! Jumble. Here, take it, and let me see Mr. Cypher as soon as possible Cypher. Cypher ! here's a proper cross arid jostle ! Why, zounds ! you have mistaken plain- tiff for defendant I am Mr. Cypher Jumble. The devil ! Cypher. No not the devil Richard Cypher, Esq. Attorney and Solicitor; and if you'll take my word, an honest man. Jumble. Sir, you give yourself an excellent character. Cypher. Sir, I'm obliged nobody else will; but let me tell you, the temptations to drive the wrong side the road, are so many in my profession, that an honest lawyer is a good as well as a great cha- racter.; and I really think there are more of that description than the world in general are willing to believe. Jumble. Those papers have been examined, I presume ? Cypher. Not by me I had not time. jumble. Had not time ? Cypher. No ; I remember they were sent to old Latitat: he was head man I only managing clerk afraid to flash, I wasn't bang up then demure as a judge grave as an undertaker long face black coat, and all that he desired me to look over them so I overlook'd them. Jumble. Well, Sir. 36 HIT OR MISS, Cypher. Well, Sir ! Old Stirling, upon the strength of my character as a steady fellow with ten thousand pounds, invites me down to the Cottage I take the hint mum ! he has a daugh- ter Jumble (aside). Distraction! Cypher. Beautiful as an angel all roses, lilies, thorough bred no gum prime in all her points. Jumble (aside). Coxcomb! Hear me, Sir! the lady you mention is my affianced wife. Cypher. Oh, Lord ! crim. con. ! Say no more. My dear Sir, don't be alarmed ; I've studied the law, and matrimony is out of my line of business besides, when I was no longer ma- naging clerk, I was no longer a steady fellow, with ten thousand pounds. Jumble. No ? Cypher. No ; I managed to get rid of them altogether ; therefore am not the man for old Stirling; and to shew you that I understand my profession, I'll assist you to make your match. I'll get out of a scrape myself, and get other people into one. If that isn't being a clever lawyer, the devil's in it. Jumble. My dear Sir, how shall I thank you ? Cypher. Say nothing; leave all to rne: you shall slipon mylilly-shallow and upper toggery, go to the Cottage in my name, tip the old one a rattle asto- nish his weak nerves talk of every thing that means nothing swagger look big and all that and if you can but get the girl into my tandem, I defy John Doe and Richard Roe themselves to overtake us ; so instead of making you happy by separation, egad ! I'll make you miserable by bring- ing you together, and thus prove to the world that Richard Cypher, Esq. Attorney and Solicitor, is a A MUSICAL FARCE, 37 good and a great man, because he's an honest lawyer that's the way to do the thing properly. (Exit Jumble). Curse 'em, the) all seem to have studied the law here ; but I pity and excuse it how can one expect any thing prime but in London. SONG CYPHER. I. With spirits gay I mount the box, the tits up to their traces, My elbows squar'd, my wrist turn'd down, dash off to Epsom races, With Buxton bit, bridoon so trim, three chesnuts and a grey, Well coupled up my leaders then, ye hip ! we bowl away ; Some push along with four in hand, while others drive at ran- dom, Jn whisky, buggy, gig, or dog-cart, curricle, or tandem. (Speaks.) I say. Bill, what have ye put this short collar on the wheeler, for he's almost choaked - where are you coming to, you Johnny Raw ? Why don't you keep your own side of the road hold off a bit. Where are you running to ? You'll break my bars you be d d, who made you a coachman ? You hold off yourself, or I'll lay that fine coat of yours in the gutter. Will you ? why then Some push along, &c, II. Prime of life to go it, where' s a place like London ? . Four in hand to-day, the next you may be undone j Where belles as well as beaux, to get the whip-hand strive, And Mrs. Snip, the tailor's wife, can teach her spouse to drive. So Jacky Snip, his wife and all, to Dobbin's bick are strapt on, In one horse-chay to spend the day, with neighbour Stitch at Clapton. 38 HIT OR MISS, (Speaks). I think next Sunday, says Mrs. Snip, we'll clap Dobbin into our chay, and take a drive to Hornsey Shall I go too, mother ? Yes, my love. Now, Mr. Snip, don't smell of the shop to-day Cold morning, Sir Yes, sharp as a needle. I say, honey, who taught you to drive? You ought to hold the reins in both hands, and the whip in the other, and that's the way Some push along, &c. Ill Thus 'tis with all who in London are thriving, Both high life and low life, at something are driving, A peer and a prentice now dress so much the same, You cannot tell the diff'rence, excepting by the name, On Epsom Downs says Billy, zounds ! that cannot be Lord Jacky, Egad, but now I see it is I took him for his lacquey. (Speaks). That's prime white corduroys pearl buttons beat the Bristol mail. D n this pavement, it jolts like a baker's cart. You grace- less rogue, you have upset my wheelbarrow. Hollo, gate ! Don't keep us waiting all night my leaders are all on the fret This here man han't paid the toll How can you say so No. 281 that won't do I have been thro' F that won't do, the letter's O why then help yourself all right why then Some push along. &c. SCENE IV. The Lodge. Enter DOLLY. Dolly. So, Miss Clara has seen her lover in spite of 'em ha, and she'll see him again too. A MUSICAL FARCE. 39 Its very hard, so it is, that young ladies like us should be kept locked up in this way : but he'll be with her again when she least expects it. SONG DOLLY. I. " Beneath a tower a pilgrim stray'd, " Where sigh'd forlorn a lovely maid, " Her eye was wet, her cheek was [ale, " Her hair wav'd wildly in the gale, " And still she cried, " (Ah ! hapless bride), " Oh ! brave Sir Eglamore. II. " He bow'd then to the lady low, " Sweet maid, what makes thy tears to flotf ? " Oh, pilgrim, on the battle plain, " My Lord, my own true knight was slain, " And still I've sigh'd, " (Ah ! hapless bride), " Oh ! brave Sir Eglamore. III. " The pilgrim threw aside his vest, " He clasp'd the maiden to his breast - } " My love, thou still art true to me, " And I still live for love and thee ! " The vassals sung, " The castle rung, " Oh ! brave Sir Eglamore." Enter O'DAISY. 0' Daisy. So, so, so Mr. Stirling, these are your ways, are they ? and I have been the gen- tleman-porter to such a spalpeen, without Dolly. What's the matter, Rourke ? O' Daisy. He ordered me to turn the young man out of the house ! 4-0 HIT OR MISS, Dolly. Ah, but he didn't know him. O* Daisy. No matter for that. I told him if he did not know how to behave like a gentleman, I'd teach him manners myself. So then he began to argufy the business ya hoo! said I to myself, very softly, T can bother you there. Dolly. But where was Mr. Jumble ? O 1 Daisy. Oh, he was jumbled down stairs be- fore that. Dolly. ButRourke, if it should be found out the old man will never forgive us. O' Daisy (snapping his Jingers) . That for the old man. By the powers, I believe he wants a pint pot to hold a quart, or he would not be after telling his daughter to hate a man in a minute, that she has loved all the days of her life. Dolly. Ah ! I'm afraid they'll never be married. 0' Daisy. Never be married ! That was the cry before you were Mrs. O'Daisy, Och ! we shall never come together my jewel, says you Arrah ! be aisy my darling, says I and a'nt we here as clean as a couple of well-wash'd mealy potatoes ? Dolly. But my master will keep poor Miss Clara lock'd up till this Lawyer comes from Lon- don and then we shall be discharg'd. 0' Daisy. So much the better. Enter JER&Y in haste. Jerry. Lord ! Lord ! how I ha' run surely. Dolly. Why, Jerry, what's the matter ? O' Daisy. What the devil, are the enemy come ? Jerry. Noa ! that wouldn't make people run but the Law)er be come. A MUSICAL FARCE. 41 0' Daisy. Whew ! Then we're all baked. Jerry. I declare, I be quite in a flustration; but bless your heart a' don't look a bit like a ""Lawyer. 0* Daisy. * N , Dolly. S Jerry. Noa ! he ha' gotten a white hat, turn'd up wi' green, and a long whip that he do keep flourishing over. his head. O 1 Daisy. Perhaps he has been used to have a whip flourishing over his head and his shoulders beside Jerry. Yes, he said he was the best coachman in all London City, and then he swagger'd and swore he was a gentleman, and such like, and that he was primed and bang'd up, Dolly. And how's that ? O* Daisy. Oh ! never you mind that to be sure he'd make you believe that black was the white of your eye. Jerry. But for all that, when I mistak'd him for a coachman, he look'd so sheepish, like O 1 'Daisy. Aye, aye! A wolf in sheep's cloth- ing; but never mind that we don't value him a button. Jerry. I fancy you will, though, when you do zee him : he has get a rare parcel on'em all down his coat, shining like so many crown pieces. Dolly. Well, but Jerry, is he coming here ? 0' Daisy. Aye, let's hear. Jerry. Well, then, this be the rights on't (as Mr. Quill told me) Lawyer Cypher and Mr. Jumble had some confabulation about Miss Clara and so they got a squabbling, like CfDaisy. Aye Aye! Natural enough. Jerry. Yes and Mr. Quill did think summat F2 M HIT OR MISS, serious ware going tp happen ; but instead of that they march'd off together quite peaceably. 0' Daisy. Oh! Oh! I smell powder. Dolly. Oh! I'm so glad. G'Daisy. Glad, are you ? Then let me teH you, Mrs. O'Daisy, that when two men quarrel, find after that walk off together peaceably, its a sure sign they'd be after cutting one another's throats though they can't well do that without fire-arms neither. (Aside.) I've as neat a pair of pops hanging up in the lodge, as any gentle- man would desire to be shot with ; but my dar- ling here must not smoke the business, or egad she'll spoil sport. 'Jerry. I'm woundily afraid we shall get the worst on't after all, there be so many against us. O'Daisy. D- n the numbers that are against us, I say. Step into the lodge a bit, and leave me alone to manage 'em. You are a Scotchman, you know ; I am an Irishman ; and Dolly there is an Englishman ; and take my word for't, that when we have a friend in need, we always stick by them to the last, and sink or swim together. Ha, ha ! there they go, brother and sister a torn-tit and a dumpling. [_Exeunt. SCENE LAST. An Apartment in STIRLING'S Jlouse. Enter Mrs. HONEYMOUTH with the Paper, dressed in a Riding Habit. Mrs. Honey. The awful moment is at hand ; but how to contrive the signal, I know not. Let me read again. (Reads). <: At the appointed A MUSICAL FARCE. 43 " hour warble a few notes from the bow-window " nearest the road, by way of signal, and imme- " diately proceed to the lodge gate, where a light " open carriage shall be in readiness to conduct " you to the arms of your adoring Janus Jumble." Warble a few notes ! why I never warbled in all my life. How unfortunate ! [Stirling Iieard without. Stir. Come this way, Clara I insist on your obedience. Mrs. Honey. Mr. Stirling's voice ! My agita- tion, and this dress, will excite suspicions that Enter STIRLING, leading CLARA. Stir. Come, come, I'll not trust you any where but under lock and key, so into that room you go. Mrs. Honey, (aside}. I declare 'tis the wry room with the bow- window, mentioned in tiie paper. Clara (aside). What will become of me! This, perhaps, may be the very hour my lover appointed for my escape. Mrs. Honey (aside). A lucky thought ! I'll persuade Clara to sing. My sweet Clara, the time will soon pass : your harp and piano-forte are in that room, and you can practise your favourite song. Stir. Aye, Clara, do. " The bird in yonder cage connVd" aye, aye, a pretty song. Clara (aside). 'Tis in vain to resist. I'll en- deavour to find some air, with words applicable to my situation ; and should my dear Janus be near, lie will understand it. [Exit into the room. Mrs Honey. And pray practise your song, my dear 'twill keep up your spirits. 44 HIT OR MISS, Stir. Bless me. Cousin, you seem very fond of harmony all of a sudden ! (Aside). It's a very long while since she was so before. Enter a Servant. Serv. Sir, here's a person down stairs insists on seeing you immediately. Stir. What ? is he arriv'd ? I'm glad on't terribly fatigued with his journey, I suppose these quiet fellows can't bear much exercise. Jumble (without). Stand out of the way, you d d rascal how dare you keep a gentleman waiting! (Enters). Ah, my dear Sir ! how do you do? how are you ? (Exit Servant). Well, Sir, I received your letter, and set off immedi- ately on the wings of impatience. Stir. Then I suppose you lamed one of your pinions by the way, or you would have been here much sooner. Jumble. Only a slight accident run over an old woman that's all. But, however, every thing's safe, except the shaft of my dog-cart. Stir. Of your what ? Jumble. My dog-cart happen 'd to crash him in the town here, opposite Jumble's a demure, solemn plod, hey ? a great puppy, hey? Stir. I begin to suspect the puppy must ha' come out of the dog-cart. Mrs. Honey, (aside). I shall expire with impa- tience and anxiety. Jumble. By-the-bye, I left those papers you desired I'd bring for him. But vv here's your daughter, my fine fellow ? (Seeing Mrs. Honey- mouth). Fiends and spectres, my evil genius ! Madam, your most obsequeous (bowing fami- liarly). A MUSICAL FARCE. 45 Stir. A quiet steady fellow, indeed! curse me if I ever saw such consummate impudence ! (CLARA sings in the Room.) In vain I sigh, in vain I weep ; My prison's high, the walls are steep, The castle's moat is broad and deep I cannot fly to thee, my love. Stir. Ah ! there's Clara practising her song. Jumble (aside). Confin'd ! I understand (looking at Mrs. Honeymouth) Oh, d n it, so does she, by all that's infernal ! Mrs. Honey, (agitated, and moving off). II Oh ! I shall be with you again soon, Cousin. Stir. There's something very odd about my amiable Cousin to-night I should almost suspect she was going to elope, were it possible any one could be such a fool as to run away with her. Jumble (aside). O yes, she's. off and my friend Cypher, instead of beholding an angel, as I've taught him to expect, will be electrified by a Gorgon. Stir. But tell me, Mr. Cypher, I hope you read those papers before you gave them to young Jumble ? Jumble. No such thing look at me do you think I should be the man I am, if I ever read ? [Turning round. Stir. What ! then you attend to business in a different department write, instead of read, hey? drive the quill ? Jumble. Me drive the quill ! d n the quill I drive a gig ! Nobody reads now study's ex- tinct sport's .the word rattle the dice drive 46 HIT OR MISS, your own carnages ride your own matches- never write but in registering a bet, and never read but in the Racing Calendar then you'll be prime ! bang up ! Johnny Raw. Stir, (aside). Johnny Raw ! I'm in a raging fever marry my Clara, indeed! I'd sooner she should lead apes, than marry such a fellow as this ! Enter O'DAISY, with a Brace of Pistols and Parchments. 0* Daisy. A pretty wildgoose chase I have had of it Here have I been hunting for that Lawyer, with the marking-irons all ready, and d n the bit can I find him. Stir. Why ! Rourke, who sent for you ? O' Daisy (seeing Jumble). Ha ! ha ! have I caught you at last ! (Aside) To be sure I ne- ver saw him before ; but I recollect him perfectly well, for all that. Didn't my loving brother- in* law tell me all about the buttons ? And faith, they are neat marks to shoot at enough. Stir. What the devil are you doing with pistols? G Daisy. Your Honour must know that sus- pecting Mr. Jumble had a small matter to settle in this way, I thought I might as well do the business myself; therefore, Sir, as I have found you at last, give me leave to ha ! (looking at Jumble). Jumble. 'Sdeath, I shall be discovered (turns away). 0' Daisy. O don't be turning away your face if it's your own you needn't be ashamed of it. Stir. What the devil's all this ? Jumble. I must brazen it out. Well, what's A MUSICAL FARCE. 47 your business with me ? you never saw me before, you clod. 0' Daisy (looking at him). Sure it must be no yes I'm bother'd~by the powers, they have mix'd themselves all up together, and d n the one can I tell from the other of 'em, so I must shoot this fellow just to prevent mistakes. Enter CYPHER. Cypher. Ya ! ya ! ya hip dash along this is prime ah ! Jumble we're beat its .ill up. Stir. Jumble -did he say ? Why, what the devil 0' Daisy. Oh ! hubbubboo, hubbubboo. Cypher. Mr. Stirling, Sir, my name is Richard Cypher, Esq. Attorney and Solicitor, and al- though I am not exactly the man you expected I'm bang up to the mark, notwithstanding Prime, one of the first going, therefore hope to be accepted as a friend, though not a relation. Stir. A relation, ha ! ha ! I always said 'twas in vain attempting to deceive me. Jumble. I hope you'll gc poor Jerry Blossom a good character, Sir. Stir. Jerry Blossom ! O 1 Daisy. Och ! . Stir. I was going to relent, but now I'll have no pity. jumble (singing, and imitating). " Pity, Sir, ah, pity pray, a weary Soldier old and wounded." Stir. And the old Soldier too ? O* Daisy. Och ! you've been finely bamboozled ! Mrs. Honey, (without) . Where is the wretch ? Cypher. Ecod, here she is, (Enter Mrs. Honey.) 4 HIT OR MISS, there's a go for you, isn't that bang up, isn't that prime ? I'm the boy to splash. Mrs. Honey. Splash indeed, brute. Stir. Why Cousin, you have left the harmo- nious Nightingales, ha ! 0' Daisy. More like the mudlarks, your Honour, but birds of a feather Mrs. Honey. But Mr. Jumble shall account with you, Sir^ Jumble. Not I, Madam, I resign all preten- sions to that gentleman. Cypher. It's no go, Jumble I'm not to be had can't stand the curb. Mrs. Honey. Reptile! lam now more con- vinced than ever, that your whole race are base, perfidions and deceitful ; and from my very heart I detest and execrate yon and all mankind. Out of the way, savage. \_Exit, pushing O'Daisy. Stir. But explain. Cypher. That's soon done I heard the signal, saw the lady said nothing handed her in sigh'd and groan'd-r-every thing right, but no lamps of course dark as the devil dash'd along deep rut crack went a felly down we came. 'Stir. Pray stop one moment (bringing Clara from the room, and giving her ^jumble} there, take her, and be happy. Cypher. That's it that's right that's prime. , Enter DOLLY and JERRY BLOSSOM. O'Daisy. Ha ! here's my t'other half come to help me make one amongst you. Dolly. Why Rourke have you given the parcel ? O'Daisy. O, murder ! (taking the Parchment A MUSICAL FARCE. 9 from his Pocket} you must know, that when I was at Mr. Jumble's, I caught up this bundle of paper to load the bull-dogs with Oh ! be aisy, says Mr. Quill, that's parchment and what's bet- ter to shoot a lawyer with than parchment said I Oh ! but says he, its worth a thousand a year of any man's money and it belongs to Mr. Jumble, then by the powers, said I, I'll have the plea- sure of giving it myself. Cypher. Oh ! I'll swear to the papers, though I never read them. JumJjle. Indeed ! then with my beloved Clara, and this independence, I begin the world anew. In love I've Hit my mark Success I claim, Should we fail here We Miss indeed our aim. FINALE. Now all onr cares are ended, We bid adieu to sorrow, And if by you befriended, We fear not for the morrow. THE END.. London : Printed by B.-M'Millan, ) flo-,r Street, Caveat Garden. > This Day is published) In One Volume 4to. embellished with Fourteen highly finished Engravings, Price Jl. 11s. 6d. Boards, A DESCRIPTION AND HISTORICAL ACCOUNT VARIOUS PALACES AND PUBLIC BUILDINGS, English and Foreign, with Biographical Notices of their Founders or Builders, and other eminent Persons. BY JAMES NORRIS BREWER. Printed for W. H. Wyatt, Picket-street, Temple-bar. Of whom may be had, and all other booksellers, just published, in One Volume lioi/al 18wo. Price 9s. THE LADY'S TOILET; Containing a Critical Examination of the Nature of Beauty, and of the Causes by which it is impaired, with Instructions for preserving it to advanced Age 5 an Historical Sketch of the Fashions of France and England ; Directions for" dressing with Taste and Elegance j and Receipts for^preparing all the best and most harmless Cosmetics proper for a Lady's use. *#* The above is a Work pointing out to Women whatever tends to promote, and warning them of what is pernicious to Health and Beauty, indicating what is prescribed by good Tastte, in contradistinction to what is dictated by a ridiculous Fashion,, TWENTY YEARS AGO! NEW MELO-DRAMATIC ENTERTAINMENT, IN TWO ACTS, AS PERFORMED BYTHBIR MAJESTIES' SERVANTS OFTHB LATE THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY LANE, AT THE LYCEUM THEATRE. BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. AUTHOR OP " HIT OR MISS** -" YES OR NO," &C. THE MUSIC COMPOSED BY MR. T. WELSH. LONDON: TRINTED TOR W. H. WYATT, PICKET STREET, TEMPLE-BAR; XT B. 1 C MXLLAN, BOW STREKT, COVXNT QABDtK. 1810. [Prici Two Shillings.'} ADVERTISEMENT. THE ground-work on which I have contracted this Piece, is to be found amongst the Simple Tales of Mrs. Opie, whose productions I have often perused with infinite delight charmed as much by the elegance of her writing, as the beautiful and pathetic manner by which she excites a most extraordinary degree of interest. " Love and Duty" is the tale alluded to ; but in dramatising the subject, so many alterations were ne- cessary, that I fear its Fair Authoress will be but little obliged by this acknowledgment. Yet should it in- duce those to search for the original, who as yet have seen but its chequered shadow, 1 am convinced they will excuse the ambition which tempted me to pluck one flower from a wreath which she has so successfully gathered, and which cannot fade till morality, good sense, and unadulterated taste with which her works are replete shall be no more. To the Performers I am greatly indebted, for their exertions in the representation ; and beg they will ac- cept my best acknowledgments. I. P. DRAMATIS PERSONS. Count D'Essars Mr. PENSON. Henri ................ Mr. J. SMITH. f ripon .** ivir. .FISHER* Geraldo Mr. RAYMOND. Carlo Mr. Do WTO N. Jaques M Mr. KNIGHT. Julia Miss E. BOLTON. Brunette Miss KELLY. Villagers, fyc. fyc. SCENE Between Bian$on andModena, in the Alps* TWENTY YEARS AGO! Act 1. SCENE I. A Wood, with a Cottage on one side the Stage. Carlo is seen leading Julia, who appears ex- hauster^ (Music}. Car. Cheerly, cheerly, lady ! so at last we are arrived at a couple of square yards of even ground! Bless my soul, I can't think how I could miss the way. Jul. Are we near the track ? I am very faint. Car. Don't faint yet, we must be near the road now; if so, 'tis but a short league to Modena. Jul. A league ! I shall never reach it. Car. Rest awhile at the foot of this tree ; you'll be better quickly. Mercy on us, I wish the moon would shine forth again, and light us out of this labyrinth. Well may they talk of her in- constancy, for like most other shining beauties, she only veils herself to mislead those who are fools enough to trust her. Odso ! here is the cot- tage of Old Geraldo, whose story I was telling when we miss'd the path. JuL Is there some hope ? Car. Very little, I'm afraid. You could not expect much, from the character I gave you of him : tho' naturally humane, they say he's as surly 8 TWENTY YEARS AGO ! as a house-dog, and has as great an antipathy to strangers. JuL There is no other resource. Knock at the -door should he refuse admittance, I must even terminate my journey here. Car. I am almost afraid to rouse him. Jul. Knock, I say ! Car. I shall, Lady (knocks at the doorj-^tis now, I fear our only chance (aside}. Ger. (ivithin). Who knocks ? Car. Oh Lord ! there he is his deep ton'd voice makes me shiver more than all the night air we have endur'd. (Here the moon emerges from a cloud, and Brunette appears at the. window Geraldo sings within) . QUARTETTQ. folia. From early dawn to setting sun, I've travell'd o'er the mountains dreary j Nor yet is my sad journey done, And I am faint, and sick, and weary. Geraldo. Who knocks at this dull hour of night ? Who at Gerald o's gate doth slay ? The moon's cold beam that glitters bright, Will serve to light you on your way. Carlo. J Tis not the way to move his pity, By craving mercy in a ditty. Jitlia. Ah ! do not, like the thoughtless great, From charity thus turn your ear ; Nor shut 'gainst misery your gate, But wipe from sorrow's cheek the tear. Geraldo. Away- ! begone ! Carlo. our chance is o'er, We'd better quit his rusty door ; I told you to a stranger's cringes, It always creak'd upon its hinges. Julia. Be silent fool ! Carlo. I've done ! I've done ! Julia. In pity listen to my moan Gfraldo. Begone ! begone ! Carlo. I've done ! I've done ! TWENTY YEARS AGO! 9 Car. I thought so; I knew we should not be able to unkennel him. What in the -world will become of us! Jut. Truce, Sirrah! I blame myself alone for my credulity: you said you knew the path-way blindfold, and promised faithfully to show it. The recollection of my misplaced confidence stings me more than Car. Be not angry, Madam. I am stung to the quick myself there's not a bramble in the whole forest, but has had a scratch at me ; but I had rather be goaded by them than by your dis- pleasure. Jul. I fear you* Car. Fear nothing, Madam! though but a poor guide, I am trusty ; and I swear to support and protect my charge, while I have vigour in my arm, or a leg to stand on. Ger. (coming from the Cottage). Who is it at such an hour disturbs Geraldo's solitude ? Car. Misfortune! Ger. Right; it has indeed these twenty years what is it you want ? Car. Relief! Ger. Such as I can offer, you are welcome to. Begone ! (Gives money) . Car. Pshaw money ! Ger. Yes! is not that sufficient ? Car. 'No! Ger. How ! Car. 'Tis useless money to a couple of tra- vellers starving in a wood, is like a prize in the lottery to a man condemned to be hang'd. Ger. Away, trifler ! that path leads to the next village. 'Tis a clear night you cannot miss the way. Car. 'Tis true, the moon has come out, and cheer'd us with some rays of hope, and so have B 2 10 TWENTY YEARS AGO ! you presently you'll both go in again, and leave us, as you found us, in dirt and darkness, like a couple of moles. Ger* Who is your companion ? Car. Yon fair lady, whom' your tenderness has so overcome, that she cannot find words to ex- press her thanks. Ger* A woman too ! Car. Yes, its a woman, but you need not alarm yourself she'll not eat you. Now if he does not relent, we may chance to end our ad- ventures like the poor babes in the wood, (aside). Ger. Lean on my arm, young Lady come, let me support you you tremble you are ex* hausted ! JuL I am, indeed Ger. Whatever comfort my lowly habitation can afford, is freely yours. JuL Thank you, bless you ! Ger. Yet, your situation is peculiar for one so young and beautiful who are your parents ? JuL Oh ! spare me, spare me 1 I have no pa- rents ! Ger. An orphan too ! an outcast ! and I, monster-like, have shut my doors against you ! Come in, come in never be it said, Geraldo's heart, hardened though it be by treachery and misfortune refused the shelter of his roof to an orphan wanderer. [Exit with Julia into the Cottage. Car. Well, upon my soul that's civil enough ; but wtio's to shelter me ? here's pretty treatment now, for one who has made an old man's heart flow with pleasure, by putting it in his power to o a good action. Never mind, one good turn de- serves another I'll be even with 'em I'm turn'd out, they have turn'd in 'twill be my turn by TWENTY YEARS AGO! It and bye. But its the way of the world, gratitude's extinct, there's no such thing existing in the breast of man, woman, or child yes! they are all alike detestable ungrateful ugly ha ! (looking at Brunette, who enters from the Cot- tage}. Brim. I hope not all, Sir. Car. There's no rule without an exception you are pretty. Brun. The Lady has sent you this ring, and desires you will accept it as a mark of her grati- tude. Car. Ha ! gratitude ! another proof that no rule's without an exception. Brun. Yes ; and old Geraldo says, he is very sorry he cannot admit you, but he has laid it down as a rule Car. Tell him there's no rule without an ex- ception. Gad ! I should like to be admitted, if it were only for the pleasure of passing the even- ing with you. Ahi you'sly little wench ! Can't you let me in ? but I've done Carlo scorns to screw himself into the secrets or the house of any man. Thank your master for these grains of his goodness 'tis seed that will produce ten- fold. You must know I'm a bit of a pedlar as well as a guide, and to-morrow I shall purchase a stock of merchandize, to retail again to the lads and lasses at the merry-making. Will you be there?* . there'll be a rare bustle. Brun. I fear I shall not be able to go the poor Lady may want some one to attend her. Car. Pho ! she's young and hale^-a little rest soon set her on her legs again beside, there's a wedding, a dance, and the deuce knows what. Oh ! you must come perchance you may pick up a husband yourself Ha ! 'od she's a nice 12 TWENTY YEARS AGO ! girl should like her myself! Pretty couple, I think ! Brun. Heigh o ! Car. What are you sighing for, my dear ? Brun, You talk'd of a wedding - Car. Oh ! oh ! ( 'Aside). Brun. I was once to have been married myself Car. But what ? Brun. My lover deeeiv'd me. Car. Oh the villain ! how so ? 'Brun. 'Tis a very long story. Car. Oh, then tell it to-morrow. Ger. (within). Brunette ! Brun. Hark ! I am called. (Going). Car. Well, good bye to you ; but remembef to-morrow. (Exit Brunettej.^ Egad she is a nice girl, and deserves a good husband. I have a great mind to take compassion on her and marry, or shall I have compassion on myself and not marry. Marriage is an odd thing a good wife is a good thing but I'm told that's a very scarce article. To be sure, a man may live happy with a good wife ; should she prove constant, 'tis all very but should she prove otherwise O, Lord ! the end of that is (puts his Jinger to his forehead) Oh dear, that's the devil ! [Exit. TWENTY YEARS AGO! 1$ SCENE II. Early Morning. Enter FRIPON and HENRI, disguised as Hunters, with short Spears, Bugles, &c. Frip. My dear Henri, I tell you, you are wrong patience and perseverance will surmount every obstacle. Hen. Oh! Fripon, trifle not with me thus, but assist, advise me. Frip. Advise ye ! Advice, they say, costs no- thing, and therefore is oftener given willingly, than received thankfully. But I know not how to advise you. As to this Atalanta of yours this run-away nymph pshaw ! man, never sigh about it. Be confident, and you'll be successful. The morning advances ; it may dawn prospe- rously. Whilst I take the upper path that leads to the village, do you keep the lower road to Mo- dena ; and should you have an opportunity of ob- taining intelligence, sound your bugle lustily ; I'll do the same ; and a few moments will bring us together ; till then farewell : but remember, " Nil desperandum^ should be the lover's motto. [Exit. Hen.. Such are the arguments of friendship. Did he but love a being interesting and amiable as Julia, he would know that the heart of a lover is wither'd by disappointment, as the early flow- ers of spring shrink and fade before the lingering winter's blast. 14 TWENTY YEARS AGO ! SONG HENRI. I. Loud was the wind, the drifting rain, In torrents swept the misty plain, "When Arthur clairn'd the tear of pity, And wildly sung his lovelorn ditty. He heeded not the frowning storm, Nor felt the rain upon his breast, Tho' cold the wind, his heart was warm, Por to his bosom still he press'd A lock of Emma's hair II. " The cloudless sky, the genial ray, " Once cheer'd the dawn of Arthur's day ; " But now, alas ! the eve appears, <* Oppress'd with sighs, bedew'd with tears. " Still, still my soul shall comfort know, " Tho' disappointment rack my breast ; " Tho' doom'd to misery and woe " And then convulsively he press'd The lock of Emma's hair. SCENE III. The Interior of GERALDO'S Cottage. Enter GERALDO. Ger. 'Tis strange, and yet to disbelieve her, should her tale be true, were tenfold cruelty. No friends- a wanderer from home at such a time of night too what to think, or how to act, I know not. She wishes concealment conceal- ment is mystery, and mystery implies a sense of impropriety it seldom walks hand in hand TWENTY YEARS AGO! 15 with innocence. Still there is a native air of truth abo it her, that seems to scorn evasion and deceit. My heart leans to her, 'spite of my judgment ; and come what may, I must be sa- tisfied Enter BRUNETTE. So what says the guide? Brim. He thanks you for your bounty, Sir, and says it will bay him wares and toys, to sell again to-morrow at the Village Festival. A young couple are to be married to-morrow. The bride is Rosetta, daughter of Goloti, the farmer in the valley he that's so rich. Ger. (musing). Poor girl ! Brun. Sir ! why, indeed, it is a serious change for a simple girl, who has been always used Ger. To wander from her home (still musing). Brun. No. Sir, to live quietly at home but they say she'll be very happy. Ger. Still I suspect her. Urun. Suspect her, Sir! of what? Ger. Of quitting her father's house (sternly). Brun. Impossible! Ger. Bring me a chair So my curiosity r must be satisfied it shall be satisfied ; the motive is laudable, and I will not resist it. Brunette 1 Brun. Sir! Ger. Tell the Lady that I attend her leisure for a few words. Brun. Yes, Sir. (Going). Ger, Stay Did the guide wish to discover I mean, was he angry at not being admitted ? Brun. Oh dear ! no he said he scorn'd to pry into the secrets of any one. c 16 TWENTY YEARS AGO! Ger. Did he so ? (rises) He has taught me a lesson. Dreading discovery myself, I was about to worm the secret from another, on which, like mine, her very life may depend. (Aside). Ger Hush! Jul. (sings within). Alone, on life's rough wave I'm tost, Alone I droop beneath the willow ; There think what bliss to me is lost, Enters. And make the clay-cold sod my pillow. Ger. She must be innocent, for guilt could never so attune itself to harmony. u Then why thus sing my love-lorn ditty, '* And sigh his name in every grove ; " T would now, alas ! be sin to pity, '* Alas I 'twould be a crime to love. "Ger. Poor girl ! thy fate must indeed be " hard, if pity be denied, where to love would be " a crime." Brunette, leave us. [Exit Brunette. Jul. (seeing Geraldo). Ah, Sir! you little think how happy you have made me. Ger. I have been myself unfortunate ; and tho* the stranger has sometimes been refused admit- tance here, still I have a fellow- feeling for the wretched. Jul. My story is but short, and your kindness claims my confidence. Ger. (aside). Now, then, without enquiry, I shall be satisfied. TWENTY YEAPS AGO ! 1? Jul. The loss of my parents was attended with circumstances Jaques (without). Hilloah ! Hilloah ! Gei\ Hah ! what noise ? (ListensJ. Jaques (without). Hilloa ! Ger. Conceal yourself quickly I must prevent intrusion. Jaques. Hilloah! [Exit Geraldo. ( Music expressing alarm)* Jul. So, in this retirement I shall surely be safe from pursuit. Now will the Count D'Essars do justice to the unhappy Julia, convinced she stole not the affections of his son, to obtrude wnsanctioned on his family. Oh Henri, Henri ! shall we never meet again f SONG JULIA. The stream that murmurs through the bower, On its clear bosom shows, Each varied shrub or simple flower That on its margin blows. So can fond menVry to my mind, Some happiness impart, While I, my Henri's image find Impress 'd upon my heart. [Exit through a Door in the Hut. Enter GERALDO, followed by JAUES, who is dressed in the French Postillion fashion, long Jack-boots, large Cue, small cock* d Hat, a In his hand, &c. Ger. But what are you ? Jaques. 1 don't know. c 2 TWENTY YEARS AGO ! Cer. Jslow came you here ? Jaques Why, a very worthy Gentleman brought me I mean you. Ger Pshaw! answer me instantly whatbrought you here ? aqups A mule, an obstinate beast I don't jn^an you, now. Ger Where have you left him ? Jaqws.. I. didn't leave him- he left me. Ger, Where ? jfvques. In the ditch, where you found me he roll ci ( ver the precipice it was the only symp- tom of speed he evinced in the u hole journey 'twas a mercy the saddle-girth broke in the fall, or J should have been as precipitate as himself. Ger. Pshaw ! no matter if you had followed him. laques. I beg your pardon, it is always better to lead a good example than to follow a bad one. Cer. Wno do you serve ? Jaques My master. Ger. Who is your master ? Jaques. The Count D'Essars. Ger. What \ the President of Police at Paris ? Jaques The same. Ger. Ha ! the very wretch who, unheard, condemned me twenty years ago ; and though my rumour'd death must have silenced all sus- . pidon, yet should his master be with him* Do you i ravel alone ? jaqu(-s. No ! v\ith the Count himself. We are c< me in search of a runaway, who we hear is conreal'd in the-e mountains. Ger. Ha ! am I then bet-ray'd ' jaques. Betray 'd ! how ill he looks. Why I never saw a man so suddenly taken Ger. Taken, say you ! (starting). YEARS AGO ! 19 Jaques. Why no, not taken yet, hut I've a strong suspicion it won't be long first before we shall ha\e her. Ger. Where is your master ? Jaques. Waiting in the shattered remains of our carriage, not an hundred yards from this place : he can't stir till I assist him, or he'll be up to his m:ddle in mud like a duck in a half dry pond. Ger. What is to be done ! should D'Essars remember me I am lost ! (aside). I have no accommodations here for travellers. Jaques. Pray don't make any apologies. I came forward to find so ne pla^e to pass the night in this cottage is comfortable, and we'll accommo- da'e ourselves now that arm chair is a very good place for me ; and as for my master, he's a gre it man, and a great politician, and such gentle- men generally know how to get good places for themselves. (~/&7* Jaques. Ger, Is there no concealment -- ha ! that cloak? yet why should I avoid him ? he has wrong'd me, and revenge is in my power. (Geraldo takes down the pistols, and slips one in his breast Music hurrying, and expressive of agitation). I was a husband and a father he rbndemn'd me unjustK broke the heart of my wife, and with her destroyed my child- \vhy then should I spare him who has thus heap'd misery on me ? (cocks the pistol hesitates at length throws it from him) he is at mv mere) : e has a wife and child, (Geraldo zvraps the cloak about him as they enter). *> D'Ess. (without). Jaques, attend to my com- mands : as soon as you can obtain assistance, let the carriage be put into the best possible repair, and procure fresh mules, that we may proceed without delay. 20 TWENTY YEARS AGCM Jaques. Yes, your Excellency. Enter D'EssARS andJxo.vES. And d'ye hearat the same time give the people to understand, that they ha^e the ho- nour to be employed in the service of his Excel- lency Count D'Essars of Paris, President of Po- lice, &c. &c. and therefore cannot demand any recompense for their troublemy orders must be obey'd. Jacques. They shall, your Excellency. [ I'.xit Jaques. jyEss. Your servant. Sir; I require ihe shel- ter of your roof for a short time I suppose you know who I am : if not, I'll tell you 1 am Count D'Essars, President of Police at Paris, c. &c.~ now you know me. Ger. Til brave the danger at once. May T ask, Sir, who this fugitive is whom vou are in pursuit of? JD'Ess. Oh! a mad-brain'd romantic boy of mine. Ger. Then I am secure (aside). D'Ess. .And a young girl. Ger. Ha! (aside). D'Ess. Whom Madam D'Essars patronized for her skill in embroidery; but when this young fel- low saw her, whew ! he fancied himself in love, forsooth. Ger. And what followed ? D'Ess. Why I remonstrated, contrasted his nobility with her obscurity, forbade him to think of her any more, and told him my orders must be obey'd. Ger. I must be further satisfied ( aside J. Had this no effect ? D'Ess, Yes exactly the contrary to what I TWENTY YEARS AGO ! 21 intended he told me to my face, that his ac- tions were free, and wouM not be confin'd to any orders. of mii.e! Think of that -my orders not' to be obe>'d! - and fini&h'd by swearing that no- thing should deprive him of the object of his af- fection ; as virtue alone was true nobility; and that uncorrupted parity was the brightest gem that could adorn the coronet of dignity ! Get. Well! D' Ess. No it was very ill, for presently came an hypocritical note from the girl, saying she had withdrawn *rcretly from Paris, that my son's at- tachment might no longer be a source of uneasi- ness to her benefactress. Ger. Generous girl ! 'tis the poor wanderer they seek; but I will still. protect her (aside). Your son D'Ess. Was not to be found, and I make no doubt it was all a contrivance to elope together ; but I have certain intelligence he has been can- tering over these unlucky mountains with that rambling rascal, his friend Fripon. To you, I shall be indebted for a few hours' repose : I mean to depart soon. Ger. Blessed chance ! &Ess. Blessed chance ! he can't surely have the insolence to mean the chance I stood of breaking my neck why, w r hat ails the fellow ? (looking intently at him, Geraldo betrays emotion). (Here Geraldo turns -towards, and looks sted- fastly at D'Essars. & Ess. Zounds, how he fixes his eyes upon me. Poor fellow, he's a little touch'd, odd, I perceive they told me he was eccentric, (touching his forehead). Pray, friend, how long have you been in this melancholy situation ? TWENTY tEARS AG& ! Ger. (aside). Surely the lapse of twenty years D'Ess. Twenty years 'the D-\ 11 ! -then he's incurable, and it may be dang to stay here a moment longer Jnqaes! this man should not be suffered to remain at liberty. Ger. No ! (Puts his hand in his bosom for the pistol). D Ess. Jaques, I say why don't you obey my orders ? we must have him secured immediately. Ger. Never ! Enter J AGUES, (Here Geraldo levels the pistol at D'Essars. Jaques is coming forward,, but seeing the pistol, retreats in great alar in behind D'Essars. At the same instant Julia comes from the door in the Hut, utters an exclama- tion, and retreats precipitately music sud- den and violent}. Ger. Rash girl ! (aside.) D'Ess. Ha ! either my eyes deceived me, or in that room I'll be convinced (Advances.) Ger. Not for your life! stand back (again levels the pistol). D'Ess. Hey ! zounds ! what are you about ? (Aside to Jaques). I hope it is not loaded. Jaques. So do I, upon my soul. D. Ess. I am afraid his fit is coming on. Jaques. I wish my fit was going off. D Ess. Curse the fellow, he has frightened me into a fever. Jaques. And me into an ague. D Ess. My good friend, I wish not to molest you but I must examine that apartment. Ger. At your peril be it then. (Brunette sud- denly appears from the apartment, and they both stand in amaze.) Ha ! this is well. TWENTY YEARS AGO ! 23 D'Ess. Amazement! I could have sworn 'twas the girl I was in pursuit of. Ger. Yes, and have sworn falsely is this just ? Suspicion led you to believe I had conceal'd this fugitive, this friendless orphan grant it so : range thro' the world, and, if you can, find an object more deserving of protection than deserted innocence. Away ' your jurisdiction reaches not the shelter of my humble dwelling ; you have forfeited the rights of hospitality, for you have endeavoured to make me betray them be- gone, I say. Jaques. So I say ; and the sooner the better I'm off for one. [Exit Jaques. Ger. Brunette, conduct the Count the nearest way to the village farewell. D'Ess. Farewell Sirrah ! we shall meet again to your confusion ; for tho' I am now obliged to obey your orders, depend upon it, it will soon be your turri to obey mine. [Exit, followed by Brunette. Ger. Thank Heaven ! he's gone, and knows me not. My own situation, 'tis true, is perilous, but he must be a wretch indeed, who, from per- sonal timidity, would refuse to dry the tear that falls on woman's cheek. [Exit. (Music). END OF TWENTY YEARS AGO? Act IL SCENE I. A Fiew of tk# Mountains. Enter JAQUES and BRUNETTE. Jaques. My love, my life, my lamb Brun. Lamb, indeed ! was there ever any thing so provoking ! Jaques. No, never ! yon are the most pro- voking little creature I ever saw in my life first, you are so provokingly pretty then you are so provokingly cruel how can you have the heart to be so provokingly barbarous. Brun. I wish you would not teaze me. Jaques. Teaze you ! -I want to please yon. Oh! I am sorely smitten. Most beautiful of mountain blossoms, thou fairest of all Brunettes, have pity on my youth* Svtfeet maiden, .I'm in love. * Brun. In love { You ! Jaques. Me ! Yes ; why not ? 'tis true, I'm not an Adonis, nor a full-grown Cupid, but I am a man a little one, to be sure but what there is of me is good. Brun. I tell you I shall be too late for the wedding. Jaques. No you won't, if you'll take me. TWENTY YEARS AGO.! 23 DUET JAQUES, BRUNETTE. I. Brunette. See the risipg sun-beams brighf Dispel the gloomy shades of night I to the wadding now must go. Jaques. If you'll take me, I'll be your beau Take a heart that doats on thee. Take my hand-^ Brunette. Pray don/t be free. Can such a lout pretend to dance ? jjaquet. Yes, to be sure, I learnt in France To the sound of tabor pipe, and flutes- Brunette. But not in such dirty clumsy boots. Jaques. When the heart's right The heels are li^ht With you Pd dance from morn till night, Brunette. Then sing hey down derry; We'll laugh and be metfry ; For a villager's life is a life of delight.- Both. Then sing hey down, &c. IT. . Now, tho' Pm but a little man, To please you I'll do all I can : Like Alexander, fam'd of old Brunette. You'd better not be quite so bold. Tho' worlds he conquer'd easily, You'll find it hard Jaques. To conquer thee. I'll die for thee, my dear Brunette. Brunette. Tho' bold, you'll find Pm hard to get. I ne'er will wed a lout like thee. Jaques. Oh, yes ! you'll wed a lad like me'. Brunette. My heart is right, My heels are light, But I will not dance from morn till night, Jaques. You'll sing hey down derry , You'll laugh and be merry ; For a villager's life is a life of delight, Both. You'll sing hey down, &c. I) 2 6 TWENTY YEARS AGO! SCENE II. Village at a distance Bells heard. Enter CARLO, as a Pedlar, followed by Lads and - . Lasses. Car. Come along, my bonny lasses -now's the only time to make your market. Here are looking-glasses to see your own pretty merry faces garters, laces, and love-knots ; bracelets, beads, buckles, and ballads kings and queens in gilt gingerbread brought them all from Paris sell 'em cheap as dirt, and as much as they're worth too. Here's a patent padlock to secure your property Hollo ! you little thief, give me back that bundle of fish-hooks ! Come buy come buy I've every thing you want and this Conjuring book, which long I have carried, W ill tell you all the day you'll be married. Enter BRUNETTE. Ah ! here's Brunette I thought you'd come. Now then let us troll a merry round, and away to the wedding. ROUND AND CHORUS. Hark ! hark ! the merry bells Ding dong ! ding dong ! dong ding ! The merry bells the wedding tells, Then merry let us sing. Hark ! hark \ TWENTY YEARS AGO F 27 Enter JAQUES. Jaques. Dingdong! indeed, why all this riot and confusion about nothing ? Car. Nothing ! why there's a wedding ! You can't expect peace and quietness when people get married. [Exeunt Peasants, laughing. Brun. Indeed ! How d'ye do ? Carlo ? Car. Ha! Brunette, thank you, well hope you are the same. Jaques. Pray, fellow, who are you ? Car. An honest man, friend hope you are the same ! want any thing in my way, shall be happy to serve I've goods of all sorts o'the best quality, from a comb down to a shoe-knot ; ballads, buckle and boddices ; knives, scissors and silk ribbons ; pins, pin-cases, and pin-cushions then I've wedding-rings and garters by the bye, if the wedding-ring shouldn't happen to tie you up quietly, the garters will you may de- pend on it happy to supply you on both occa- sions. Jaques. Tins is a sharp fellow: why friend, you are as keen as Car. My own razors ; I know it cut like a diamond wish I could cut you with all my soul who the Devil is he ? (aside to Brunette^. Brun. A spy in search of the Lady. Car. A spy, dam'me let's duck him mum I'll bamboozle him corne, my little bantam, won't you buy ? Let me see your hand, I'll tell your fortune dabble a little in that way here's my conjuring book I'm a philosopher f Carlo looks at the book, and takes Jaques's hand, who sees the ring on Car\o'sjinger) . Jaques. (aside). The very ring the young Count Henri gave to the little gypsy that has caused 6 TWENTY YEARS AGO ! this wildgoose chase of ours, as sure as I live- she can't be far off. Car. (looking at the book). Oh! here's the place oh, youYea fortunate man. Jaq. Yes, I've found the philosopher's stone ; and by imparting the secret to my master, I have no doubt of making gold. \_Exit Jaques. Car. (still at the book). Oh, you are a happy man young woman very good-natured, very pretty, but very cunning^-oh dear, what's 'this ? honey -moon not very bright, not very long, and then (at this moment Fripon enters, and seeing Carlo, &c. sounds his bugle) A. horn ! Oh Lord ! that's ominous. Hey day ! (missing Jaques). Frip. Pray good people, in your revels amongst the hills have you seen a stranger pass a woman ? Car. A strange woman, no ; but we have seen a very strange man he left us but now. Frip. A man his appearance ? manners f Cor. Oh ! very bad mannersFrench manners took French leave forgot to pay very ill- manner'd indeed. As to his appearance I know nothing, but he disappear'd like a Will o'the wisp. Brun. And I fear with no good intention, for he look'd earnestly at your ring, and departed in- stantly. Car. What, Jack-boots ? he'd better mind what he's about, or I'll ring him as they do pigs, by the nose. Frip. As I live, 'tis Julia's ! How got you this ? Car. Honestly. Frip. You received it from a lady you cannot deny it. Car. I did. Frip. Do you know her abode ? Car. I do* TWENTY TEARS AGO I & Trip. Tell me where she is, and this purse is thine. Car. Or in other words, betray my benefactor for dross Never ! I wear my ring proudly, for I earn'd it honourably ; and never shall my consci- ence make me breathe a sigh to sully its lustre. Frip. Take the purse, and say nothing r-we are friends I find I'll write a few lines you shall deliver them -(takes out pocket-book and writes) hem " Old Count discovered your retreat faithful Henri friend Fripon." Car. Shall we trust him ? Brun. Hush ! he mentions the very name I have heard her repeat so often. Frip. There, put that into your shop. Be sure you deliver it safe, and bring me the answer imrqediatelj to the village. Where the deuce is Henri ? this mountain is like a labyrinth, and should he miss his way I'll sound my bugle sounds his bugle, which is answered at a distance) Oh, oh ! he answers don't forget at the village. [Exit. Car. Egad he's a queer fellow come, this is doing pretty well a purse full of money, and my warehouse as full as when I first open'd shop. Brun. What haven't you sold any of these pretty things ? Car. No, not a bodkin yet but so much the better I'll sell off now at prime cost, like other great tradesmen, clapping on fifty per cent, profit going to retire from business. I'll fetch' 'em one way if I can't another then you and I will get married, and get I mean keep a pig, and live pretty. Marry !- Gad I'm almost afraid to venture But I dare say you and I should agree very well you're goot! temper'd so am I we might squabble a little but I'm sure we shouldn't fight. SO TWENTY YEARS AGO ! A Gentleman from England, whom I was once conducting over these mountains, taught me a sonpr, describing the quarrel of a man and his wife in London. Married people there, it seems, quar- rel about such trifles as, whether they shall drink green tea or black, or eat toast or bread and but- ter. But they never suffer a third person to in- terfere 'tis a service of great danger. SONG CARLO. [For the words of this Song the Author is indebted to a Friend.] I. Mr. Bourne and his wife Had at breakfast a strife : He wanted bread and butter with his tea. Quoth she, " I rule the roast, " I will have a plate of toast !" So to loggerheads with him went she. II. There was one Mr. More Lodg'd on the first floor, A man very strong in the wrist- He overheard the clutter About toast, and bread and butter, 3o he knocked down Mr. Bourne with his fjtf. IIL Says More, " Ods my life, " You shall not beat your wife ; " It is both a sin and disgrace." " You fool," says Mrs. Bourne, " 'Tis no business of your'n," And smack' d a cup of tea in his face. TWENTY YEARS AGO ! 31 IV. Cried poor Mr. More, As he sneak'd to the door, I'm surely a man without brains, " When two married folks are flouting, " If a stranger pokes his snout in, He's sure to get it tweak'd for his pains." SCENE III. Apartment in the Cottage. A large Chair, &c. Window and Door, in the Hut. Enter D'EssARS and JAQUES, D'EssARS looking over JAGIUES'.? Shoulder. (.Music expressing fear) . D'Ess. She is not here, however. Jaques. No, but she's in the house, I'm po- sitive. D'Ess. Then I'm sure she's not here for a positive man is always in the wrong. Come along, you cowardly rascal, what are you afraid of? Jaques. Suppose we should meet him in one of his fits. D'Ess. Heaven forbid! (aside). What with fatigue and fright, I'm shook to a mummy. Now, Jaques, mind you obey my orders punctu- ally hire a few stout fellows, d'ye hear, with nerves of iron and steel not such chicken- hearted dogs as you are. Bless my soul ! I hear him coming (he retreats, and exit through the door). Ger. (without}. Fear not, they'll venture here no more. * Jaques. Hey ! that mad giant and the girl with him, as I'm a Christian. What, my mas- 32 TWENTY YEARS AGO! ter gone, and I alone with that Goliah ! Oh dear, pn dear, what's to become of poor little David ! Enter GERALDO and JULIA. (Jaques retires behind the Chair, and D'Es- sars looks for an instant through the Win- dow). Ger. The guilty are ever cowards ; but should they rashly tempt their fate again, let them be- ware the vengeance of this arm. . D'Ess. Oh dear! what an arm it is. per. Hist ! I heard a voice I'll make all fast ; we cannot be too secure. (Jaques is now sitting much alarmed in the arm-chair, the back ofivhich is towards Geraldo). Ger. Now then listen! (Jaques pays attention). Jaques. I will. Jul. Nay, some other time. Ger. The present moment, for within an hour I must quit this place for ever. Jaques. So will I, as soon as I can. \Exit to chamber, Ger. 'Tis now full twenty years ago since the Marquis D'Anglade was accused of a robbery on the Count De Montgomery. Jul. I have heard the Cpunt D'Essars men- tioned the circumstance. - . Ger. That Count D'Essars it was who tried the cause he was the enemy of D'Anglade, nd condemn'd an innocent man to punishment and infamy. Jul. An innocent man ! Ger. The wretched D'Anglade was sentenced to the rack, in order that a confession of the crime might be extorted from him. TWENTY YEARS AGO ! 33 JuL You knew him, then ? Ger. Knew him ! JuL Pray proceed Ger. After his torture and disgrace, he was re- moved, with other convicts, to the Hospital at Marseilles. JuL Where, as I heard, he died in agony. Ger. He lives in agony I am D'Anglade ! I am that innocent man, whose honor was stained, whose limhs were lacerated, who was a hiis- band, and a father whose heart was broken (pauses) Forgrve me! I will proceed. In the surgeon who attended me, I recognized a friend by his assistance I recovered, and escaped to this Cottage. JuL But the Marchioness ? Ger. She died in child-bed-^-but I wander from the point. Last night this wretch, this Count D'Essars, appeared before me I was agitated alarm'd. JuL Did he remember you ? Ger. Oh, no misery has there befriended me; it has so disguised my features, that he look'd on me as on a stranger. JuL Did he speak of me ? Ger. He did yourself and his son are the ob- jects of his search, I promised to protect you I will do so, but I must likewise save myself. Jaques. So must I! Ger. Now if you will trust in rne, let Us fly instantly. JuL Whither shall we fly ? Jaques. Whither shall I fly ? (aside). Ger. (n knock). Hah! 'tis too late Who knocks ? Car. Carlo the guide (without)* But why so loud ? S4 TWENTY YEAHS AGO! (Opening the Door, Carlo, Brunette, &?c. advance; and Jaques takes the opportunity of making his escape at the moment). Car. I was the wrong side o'the house ; I shall be quiet enough now I have got in. There's a letter for young Madam. JuL Impossible! from whom ? Car. A young man, who pop'd it into my let- ter-box not ten minutes ago, and was off in an instant like a sky-rocket. You may open it-^- the postage is paid. JSrun. He seem'd so anxious, we thought it cruel to refuse his letter ; but did not tell where you were concealed. Ger. That's fortunate read, read. (Julia hav- ing opened the Letter 9 holds it to Geraldo). " We " have at last discover'd your retreat. Should " the old Count again secure yon, you are lost f( for ever. Confide in the honour of your faith - " ful Henri, and sincere friend, Fripon." Lose not a moment come. D'Ess. (without). Don't talk to me tarry you here till I return with assistance. Car. Hey, what's that ? Ger. 'Tis the voice of D'Essars I Away, away ! \_Exeunt. (Hurrying music). SCENE IV. Outside O/*G^RALDO'J Cottage. Enter JAQUES and D'EssARS. D'Ess. Hold your tongue, puppy your fright has made you as mad as himself Not what he seems, indeed! TWENTY YEARS AGO ! 35 Jaques.-No, your Excellency; I tell you he is a very great man. ffEss. I know he is six foot two in his stock- ings what signifies that ? Jaques. I say he's a Lord ! D*Es$. A Lord! ha, ha! why, what is all this? Jaques He's a Marquis, and talk'd about one Count Count Montgomery, I think. D'Ess. Ha! Count De Montgomery \ (aside) this old recluse must have heard of that unfor- tunate decision he knows me, too Jaques Oh, he knows you very well he said you were a cruel, cross-grairTd old fellow and then he laid it on about your character, and al! that, till it did my heart good to hear him. D'Ess. Did it, stupid scoundrel ! Who can can the fellow be ! some relation, perhaps no matter stir not from this spot till I return, un- less. they leave the Cottage. I will be here anon! [_Exit in haste. Jaques. Ah, you're a bad one 1 but as you say, your orders must be obey'd by me, or you'll order me to be hang'd, which will certainly be obey'd by somebody else. Brun. (from tlie window}. Don't go, Jaques. Jaques. No I'll be hang'd if I do. Brun. I'll (iorne down to you. (Brunette leaves the window). Jaques. Come down to me ! she's kind ! she smiles upon me Oh dear ! I'm all over in a combustion, and as hot as a furnace My love ! Enter BRUNETTE. Brun. Is the Count gone ? Jaques 1 . Yes, but he can't be gone far shall I call him back ? (going J. 56 TWENTY YEARS .AGO I Brun. No ! no ! Jaques. Why, what's the matter ? Oh tins is all right she's in as great a twitter as I am all over in a taking, as a body may say. Why you look as pale and as red, and what's the matter? Brun. Hush ! you shall hear* SONG BRUNETTE. A maiden there was by her guardian confin'd, And she sighed for her lover like me. Her lover was handsome, and tender, and kind, And watch'd at the door like thee. Jaques. Ah \ but what was the use of watching if they had placed a guard like me, you know he might have watched till doomsday. Brun. Why so they did, as you shall hear; but It was the lover's business, you know, to elude the guard's vigilance, and get the girl safe out of the house. Jaques. Aye, that would have been cunning enough. (Here Carlo appears at the door.) Brun. But love soon -a fair opportunity found: She cried now no Idnger delay; And in Hymen's soft fetters the maiden lie bpund - For he bore her in safety away. A Jaques. Aye, but how ? How did he elude the guard, you know ? I want to hear that. Brun. Have patience only look this way, and pay attention. (During the foregoing, Geraldo, Julia, and Carlo escape). TWENTY YEARS AGO! 37 Brim. The Clown who was plac'd as a guard at the door, Was assail'd by a smart pretty maid (Geraldo and Julia are seen passing over an Alplnt Bridge.} "While the lovers escap'd, she so puzzled the boor, That the poor silly man was betrayM. (Towards the conclusion of the Scene, Carlo returns i and escapes with Brunette). Jaques. Bless me! to think of such a thing! what a fool he must h;ive been ! Ha, ha, ha! so she puzzled him while they escaped! what a sim- pleton hey what, vanished! el op'd! absconded! Zounds! the door open! whew! (Carlo and Bru- nette are seen passing over the Bridge). Yonder they go! What shall I do ? where shall I go? what will become of me ? Ha ! I'll follow them hey ! no I won't, that were rashness, not coumge ; and as the proverb says, discretion is the better part of valour so Til to my master. [Exit. SCENE LAST. Open Country. Enter GBRALDO and JULIA, in alarm. Ger. We are every way beset the Count and his myrmidons are close upon us; but I will de- iend you to the last. He is here ! Enter D'EsSARS and JAQUES. D'Ess. So, Madam, I have caught you ; now then expect the reward you merit, for trepanning the heir of a noble family. 38, TWENTY YEARS AGO? Ger. *Tis false! D'Ess. False! pray recollect the man you speak to. Ger. I do. You are the Count D'Essars I shall not soon forget you. D* Ess. Then pray at the same time recollect, that while I am President of Police, you have no authority over this Lady relinquish her instantly. Ger. Never while I have strength to resist op- pression (sternly). Jul. Oh ! do not, do not forsake me \ Ger. I have undertaken to protect her with my life ; and while my arm retains its vigour, I never will desert her. D'Ess. My arm, to be sure, is not quite so strong as yours, but it is aided by a power to which opposition will be useless ; for I will never suffer the dignity of my family to be degraded by an alliance with the daughter of a criminal. Ger. The daughter of a criminal ! Suppose it were so the innocent should never suffer for the guilty. Were it not to the hardened D'Essars I spoke, I'd tell you to be merciful but mercy is an attribute of Heaven, and cannot harbour in a breast like thine. D*E$s, Her very name would be a stain upon the honour of my family. I would willingly have buried the disgraceful story, for she was nobly born. Ger. Nobly born! her name! speak! &&*. D'Anglade! Ger. D'Anglade! oh Nature! Nature ! have I then been unconsciously the protector of my own daughter ! My child ! my child ! come to thy father's heart ! Jul. Father ! D'Ess. Is it possible ! it cannot be, yet his fea- tures it is it is the Marquis himself, and his TWENTY YEARS AGO! S9 very life is again at my disposal. Advance ! (Sol- diers ruth in music violent}. Secure that man! (the soldiers surround Geraldo, and tear Julia/raw* him). Ger. Persecuted innocent! it is for you I feel ! Enter FRIPON and HENRI. Hen. How! my Julia in danger! ruffians! Ha* my father here ! />' Ess'. So, Sir, you are here most apropos, to see your father's power defied, his dignity insult- ed : but his complete revenge. This girl is the daughter of the criminal D'Anglade, who stands before \o'.i, once more in my power. -Away with them instantly ! 1-rip (to Henri). Nay, cheer up, man. All may yet be well. Enter CARLO and BRUNETTE. Car. Well ! nothing can be better the news has set the whole village in an uproar ! Z>' Ess. What mean you ? Car. Mean, that a courier has just arrived from Paris - that the Marquis D'Anglade has b^en proved innocent in consequence of which, the Count D'Essars is no longer President of Po- lire. &c. &c. and consequently his orders will no longer be obey'd there's news for you ! how do you like it ? Ger. Can this be true ' ( 'ar. True ! read the Gazette. Gt j r. (reads) " Two criminals were lately ex- ecuted at Rotterdam, one of whom confessed at the place of execution, that he committed the assassination of the Count Du Montgomery, for which the Marquis D'Anglade was con- demned Twenty Years ago." Oh, tenfold rap- 40 TWENTY TEARS AGO! tares ! -now will my revenge be great indeed you are in my power, Count, mid if a spark of feeling yet remains, you shall fed that keenest of all punishments receiving good for evil 1 for- give you ! D*Ess. Don't talk to me of forgiveness ! 'tis all a forgery and conspiracy, and j don't believe a word of -it; but if it turns, out to be true, my orders shall still be obey'd for I'll order the first fellow I meet to knock me o the head. [Lxit. Jaques. I'm sure I'd obey those orders* with a great deal of pleasure. Car. Oh, you had better stay ; we'll soon raise your spirits -the whole village is coming this way, and, pitying your fall from greatness, swear they'll exalt you as high as Jack-boots there ; and they mean to toss him in a blanket. Jaques. Do tbey ? I thank you for the hint. [Exit Jaques suddenly. Entef VILLAGERS. Ger. Henri ! I have scarcely found my child e'er I resign her continue to deserve her, for you have gain'd the richest prize a mortal can bestow the hand and heart of beauty and of virtue. FINALE. Welcome Joy, and farewell Sorrow, Life's cares like shadows pass away 5 Fickle Fate may fro\\n ro-morrow Then merry let us be to-day. THE END. .: Printed by B, M'MJUan, Street. Cgvenc Gaid-.-n. ANY THING NEW. a s^usical jFatce IN TWO ACTS, 41 PERFORMED AT Tat ENGLISH OPERA, THEATRE.ROYAL, LYCEUM. JULY 1st. 1811. BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. AUTHOR OF " YES OR NO," " HIT OR MISS,' 44 TWENTY YEARS AGO,"*&C. THE frERTURR AND MUSIC BT MR. C. SXITB* LONDON: PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. BARKER, Dramatic laepoaftarp, GREAT RUSSSELL-TREET, COVENT-OARDEK. [Price Two Shillings.'] 1811. J ADVERTISEMENT. THE complete success of this Farce I attri- bute to the exertions of the Performers, what- ever may be its merits or defe&s, I never saw a Dramatic trifle done more justice to and I take this opportunity of thanking the Per- formers for their efforts. 1 must here be allowed to notice the extra- ordinary circumstance of a Song being twice encored in this Farce, and to acknowledge the friendly assistance I have received on this, and former occasions, from the Author of " Johrv Hobbs," a Song most effectively sung by Mr* Love&rove. Published by J. Barker, GREAT RUSSELL STREET, COVENT GARDEN; FIVE MILES OFF. or THE FINGER POST, 2s -J VALENTNE and ORSON, is 6d I ^n-^- NAVAL PILLAR, is 6d > by T. Dibdm. HORSE and rhe WIDOW, i$ 6d THIRTY THOUSAND, 2 6d J INDISCRETION, a Comedy, 2s 6d "I SIGHS, orthe Daughter ,Comedy,2s 6d ^ CAPTIVF ofSPILBUKG, i6d > by P. Hoare CHAINS of the HEART, 2$ 6d THREE and the DEUCE, 2$ J YOUNG HUSSAR, Musical Drama PEASANT BOY, an Opera, 2s 6d ADRIAN and OR1LLA, 2s 6d HERO of the NORTH, Hift. Play, 2?6d | HUNTER of the ALPS, is 6d t ROYAL OAK, HifloricaVPlay, 2* $d J VETERAN TAR, Comic Opera, is 6d > by j. S . Arnold. SHIPWRECK, is > LONDON HERMIT, or Rambles in Dorfetfliire, 2s 6d * IIFE's VAGARIES, aComedv, 2$ 6d IRISH VIMIC, or Blunders at Brighton, is6d . LIFTLEHUS'CHBACK, is 6d TONY LUMPKIN in TOWN, is 6d BIRTH DAY, or, the rince ot'Arragon, is 6d COUNTERFEIT, 2* } BRoTH H.RS, a Comedy, 2s6d IMPOSTORS, aComedv, z* 6d > by Cumberland. BOX LOBBY CHALLENGE, 2 s 6d FASHIONABLE LOVER, Com. 2s6d J ABROAD and at HOME, an Opera, 2s ; KEDCROSS KNIGHTS, 2 s WAY to KEEP HIM, a Comedy, 2s ^ ALL in the WRONG, a Comedy. 2s I . A h M t ARMiNIUS, or the Champion of Liberty, as 6d f RIVAL SISTERS, is fed. &c. &c. J VOKT1GERN, iin Hiftorical Tragedy,reprefented at the"\ Theatre Royal, Drnry-Lane ; ard, HENRY the ShCOND, an Hiftorital Drama ; fuppofed f ' to be Written by the Author of VORTIGERN.J SICILIAN ROMANCE, an Opera, bj H. Siddons, is 6d WIDOW of MAI ABAR, a Tragedy, by Mifs Siaike, 2s COLUMBUS, an Hiftorical I'lay^ by Morton, 2* 6d SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER, by O. Goldfmith, 2s Rir^HARDCCEURDE LION, is 6d BOLD STROKE fv a HUS' AND, by Mrs Cow ley, 2? CLANDESTINE MARRIAGE, by Gar. irk i.d Cnlman, 2s CHAPTER OF CCIDENTS, a Comedy, by Mifs Lee, 2s SPOU ..'D CHILD," a Farce, fs 6d ' THK SULTAN, or a iVcp in'o the Seragljo, is SIX I Y I HlRl: LETTER, by W C Oultoa, is 6d OF AGE 1O-MOKROW, a Farce, is 6d THE SCHOOL I- OR FRlKM;S,a Comedy, by MifiChnmbers, 21 6d OURSELVES, a Comedy, by Ditto, ts 6d. YES OR NO! by j. Pocock, E>q. is 6d DRAMATIS PERSONS, M E N. Sir. Sidney Mr. PENSOJT, Old Whitethorn Mr. SMITH, Oliver Whitethorn Mr. KNIGHT, Jeremiah Babble . . . . ; Mr. LOYEGROTZ, Peter Babble Mr. OXBERRY, La Roque Mr. WEWITZEK. WOMEN. Mrs. Antidote Mrs. SPARKS, Ellen Whitethorn Mrs. BLANP, Fanny Transit Miss KELLY* Chorus of Soldiers. SCENE. A Country Village in England. fT The Lines printed with inverted Coma's are omitted in the Representation. ANY THING NEW? ACT I. SCENE I. A Country Village. Soldiers discovered. CHORUS. ! merry is a Soldier's life, To foes he'll never yield, He little knows of care and strife, But when he's in the field; Then when the cannons rattle, 'Tis courage doth inspire, "When vict'ry crowns the battle 'Tis lo?e his heart can fire. Then march away With spirits gay, Sometimes we fight, Sometimes we play; None on earth can lire so merrily, While the drum and fife sounds cherrily, So a Soldier's the life for me. [Exeunt. ANY THING NEW? As they march off. Enter PETER BABBLE. Peter. But a foldier's not the Jife for me glad they're gone fb id in our village Jong enough I'm no man of war wanted to make me one tho* got drunk laft night, made me valiant never fo when fober wanted me to 'lift thank ye for no- thing, fays I. Oh ! here comes Fanny could lift to her tor ever Nature formed me for Love, not War. Pretty girl plump as a pullet rofy cheeks black eyes - lips red as a cherry love to fee her pout 'em long to kifs 'em. Enter FANNY TRANSIT. Ah, Fanny how do Fanny Fanny. What, Mr, Babble (ftupid fool, he's al- ways in the way) taking leave of the ioldiers ? Peter. Yes, French leave they're off fond of peace and quietnefs domeftic happinefs roaft beef a wife two or thiee little children fire-fide, pipe, and a newf paper Fanny. Where you can read of battles without danger, and enjoy comfort without the trouble of de.erving it. P tier. All men are not born to fight. I never could fanny You never tried, I'm fure of that Peier. True I'm a peaceable man hate fur- gery faw a boxing match once beat one another to mummy then ihook. hands beft of friends, The winner rode away on a barouche-box iide of my Lord not crarnm'd infide like a coachman, Plague on fuch friendlhip, fay 1 No 1 ferve my friends in another way advife 'em if they don't take it can't help it no fault of mine ANY THING NEW ? 7 Fanny. And thus you efcapf after fetting the beft of frieiids by the ears ; you pretend vafl. iincerity/to all your neighbours, and tattle the fecrets of the vil- lage from one to another, like an old maid at a tea- table, doing more mifchLf in ten minutes than you can mend in ten months, Peter. What a tongue; but I rnuft marry mo- ther faid I muft poor foul (he had a tongue too Fanny. Haven't you teazed me to accept you in- ftead of Oliver Whitethorn ; with your friend (hip as you call it ; but though I've fet my heart on a fol- dier, and Oliver is only the fon of aj>oor gardener, depend on it I'll never marry fo peaceable a man as Mr. Peter Babble, the perfumer's fon. Peter. 'Twas my duty to perfuade you againlt him. Your uncle was a great man a rich man* Now, don't think any more of this Oliver. What would Mr. Sidney fay on his return, to find his neice grafted on the (lump of a cabbage but mum's the word ! I fay nothing. Hey ! who's here an- other woman two tongues ! I've only one good bye, Fanny. Enter ELLEN WHITETHORN. Ellen. Hey-day! Mr. Babble and Mifs Fanny Tranfit quarrelling ! Why, he told me, you were the beft of friends. Peter. So we are, but always quarrel proof of love. Fanny. Love ! Ellen. Love! why, haven't you fworn to me time out of mind, that nobody but I mould be your wife. Peter, Did I ? fhort memory don't recollect however, fecond thoughts are bell Any Thing New befides, not made for each other 1 am not hand- 8 ANY THING NEW? lome that is, not very handfome you are beauti- ful don't deferveyou Fanny. No. Nor any one elfe Ellen. You are a bafe, vile deceiver- Peter. I, a deceiver ? Fanny. Yes, a mean, paltry, meddling coxcomb; Peter. I a coxcomb ? Ellen. Running from houfe to houfe to fteal poor girl's hearts. Peter. I fteal poor girl's hearts ? Ellen. And then throw 'em away, as if they were worth nothing. Peter. This comes of my gentility Nature de- nied me face ; but gave me figure that always fetches 'em Now for the village Strange report abroad mud get particulars any thing new de- lights me. Mum's the word I fay nothing know every thing all hate me can't do without me, tho*. Old Whitethorn's a rum one fo am I Cut with his daughter Ellen She won't do Fanny will Any thing new then go to the Parfon he'll tell the Clerk he'll tell Chop the Butcher he'll tell Dough the Baker he'll tell his wite fhe's got a tongue fhe'll tell all the Town. Rare fun I'm off Any Thing New ! f Exit. Fanny. Stupid impertinent blockhead I declares, I woudn't wed fuch a puppy if he was the only man on earth Would you, Ellen ? EUcn* No ! If he was the only man. Yes, t be- lieve I Qiould, Fanny but I could tear his eyes out for all that. fanny. I'll teach you how to manage thefe men, Ellen. When they look angry, you laugh at 'em When they look pleafed, you look angry. Firft fcold 'em then coax 'em and fpite of their boafted independence, in a little time, the (illy creatures will be as tractable, and crouch at your feet like AN 7 Y THING NEW? 9 lap-dogs. Cheer up, Ellen, he'll be courting you again, when he has Nothing New, as he calls it. Then have a little of my fpirit Say to him Mum's the word, and I'm off. \x f f Ellen. It's very hard, tho\ after all hi- fine fpeechcs but the girls are just as bad. That Fanny Tranfit, now, has ferved poor brother Oliver ten times worfe than Mr. Peter has me ; but I fhall get a hufband fome time or other, I fuppoie -'tis a long lane that has no turning. SONG. ELLEN WHITETHORN. John was wealthy, and poor was Jane ; Fa! ! lal ! la 1 He swore he lo?M she lo?'d again Fall kit la! But when she of a wedding spoke, John laugh'd and said, Love's but a joke; Poor Jane ! her heart he almost broke, Fall lal! la! It chanc'd John lost his wealth one day, Fall lal! la! And Jane grew rich, as people say, Fall Mai! la! Then to her feet the lorer flew, No, no, she cry'd, you laugh'd, untrue, 'Tis now my turn to laugh at you ; Fal! lal! la! SCENE II. An Apartment at Mrs. ANTIDOITE'S Enter FANNY TRANSIT followed by OLIVER. Fanny. I tell you, it's no ule dangling after me, Oliver. Oliv. Don't fay that don't fay that, Fanny. You know how deariy I love you B 16 ANY THING NEW? Fanny. No ! I doti't ; the only thing I ever aflced of you, you refufed and new I refufe you Oliv. That you know was impoffible. I could'nt leave my poor father to be a foldier. Fanny. I know that you leave your poor father to run after me. If you were a foldier you would be getting Something, as it is, you don't even earn fix-pence a-day. Oliv. If you were but mine, Fanny, I'd work for you day and night. Fanny. 'Twas but yefterday, I was told, you ne- glected your poor father fo long, he is almoit ruined, and abufes me as the innocent caufe of it. Oliv. It's falfe, Fanny I never neglected my poor old father. Oh ! yes ! yes ! I have ; but if I thought he took it fo to heart. Who told you this? Fanny. Why Mr. Peter Babble. Oliv. Damn him. Fannv. Theie Oh! Chocking' you have learned to fwear too. Do you ihink I'd wed a man that fwears zounds Ma'am, do this and, damn it, do that no, no ! Oliv. Fanny ! Fanny ! You irritate me paft en- durance, and then pretend to wonder at the anxiety you have caufed. Babble's a fcoundrei :but rot me if I don't fpoil his fmirking chops before long. Fanny. There again jealous and quarrelfome. Oh ! this will never do for Matrimony. Oliv. I can bear it no longer! I'll leave her di- rectly, I'm determined. Good bye, Fanny good bye feowg-J Fanny. You won't leave me in apger, Oliver ? Oliv. No! no not in anger, Fanny (returning.) Zounds ! this is too bad no I'll never think of her again never fpeak to her again fanny. Farewelty Oliver. ANY THING NEW? 11 Oliv. Farewell, Fanny, dear Fanny. Oh ! damn il (he knows her power, and triumphs in her bar- barity ! DUET. OLIVER and FANNY. Oliv. Pray, Ma'am, do not think I'm worried or vext, No longer your slave I defy you Fan. Very fine but I'm sure you'll not stick (o your text When'e'er little Fanny comes nigh you Oliv. Yourself you deceive Fan. No, I cannot believe That Oliver e'er would forsake me. Oliv. Yes, Madam, you'll find, that I've alter'd my mind, No longer a fool you shall make me. u Fan. You'll repent all you say, Sir, the moment we part, u Tho' now in a passion you're storming, " Oliv. No longer a flirt shall embezzle the heart, " Another gay lass will be warming. *' Fan. Silly man 'tis in vain u Oliv. Why she's laughing again, *' Was ever a girl so provoking " Fan. Yes rave as you will, bye and bye you'll be still, " Bog pardon, and say you were joking. Oli,v. So pleasing, so teasing I soon shall go mad No no flesh and blood cannot bear it Fan. Now what makes its own pretty dear look so sad Can't it bear its own Fanny to jeer it 1 thought it was gone Oliv. I'm resolved it is done, None like thee e'er will be so false-hearted, To my fate I'm resign'd, we are both of a mind, And now then for ever we're parted Both. To my fate I'm resigned, &c. [Exeunt severally. I* ANY THING NEW? SCENE III. Inside of WHITETHORN'S Cottage. Enter WHITETHORN followed by PETER. White. Pfha ! nonfenfe don't talk to me Peter. Always glad to oblige but muft talk fomething' s the matter muft know the particu'ars in fhort ? your daughter Ellen would have made me too happy. White. S\\t would Peter. Times a;e hard ftarving in a garret very unpleafant little family large bills no money can't live upon love danon'd bad diet White. Love indeed ! Pfha ! Folly ! Peter. Cogent reafons 'gainft matrimony Mifs Traniit - pretty and your Ton Oliver White. Oliver ! have you heard of him do you know where he is ? Peter No 1 don't you ? Blefs my foul ! Here's fomething new with a vengeance he is very fond of her no ufe tho' Hav'nt change for fixpence between 'em. White, More's the pify why doefn't he ftick to work ? why doefn't he help his old father ? be^ fides fhe's a flirt a jilt a coquette ! Peter. Hot as muftard feed muft cool him 'twill break his heart, if ^ White. Hafn't he almoft broke mine that tall ferjeant with his fcarlet jacket has turn'd the heads of all the girls in the village Peter. 'T'won't do can't get Any Thing New here muft lofe no time call at Fanny Tranfit's fhe may have heard fomething make up to her Two Strings to my Bow beautiful girl juft fuit me tell her all the news- Good bye, Whitethorn great hurry and I'm off [Exit, White. Where, can Oliver ftay ? I'm fure I (aid ANY THING NEW? 13 nothing to crofs him. Poor fellow, that girl will be the death of him (a none at the door.) Oh! there he is. Enter OLIVER. So, you're come home but it's too late for labour ; you'll fee me ftarve for want foon. Oliv. Father (he's gone (he has left me; I'll work now, father ; you mall never ftarve. White. Left you, Oliver ? You fhould have more pride. Your father was proud enough that is what am I faying. The garden's running to wafte, your help would fet us up again I haven't received a penny thefe five days ; but I'll never borrow. No your father's too proud to borrow Oliv. I can never bear this. Oh ! Fanny ! Fan- ny ! to what has thy fickle nature brought me ? White. Plague on her, I fay ! Oliv. Nay, don't abufe her. She has cut me to the heart She is falfe but do not abufe her ? Where's fitter Ellen ? White. Gone in to fupper that is gone in to reft. We had a tolerable breakfaft, and Oliv. How! Is it true, then ? Is it White. We (hall have plenty to-morrow. Come come Oliv. No food not received money thefe five days ! Oh ! fhame ! fhame. White. I have faid too much What ails the boy ? Oliv. Nothing Nothing ails me, father. Iain very well only a little tired. White. His looks alarm me ; yet if I tell him the extent of our mifery, 'twould break his heart ! Oh ! this girl ! this girl ! [Exit. Oliv. My lears were juft difgrace is certain ; but I mud lave my father, Babble was right, then, and Father's brought to want by me. Oh, fhame, 14 ANY THING NEW ? {hame. Where (hall I go what (hall I do I can't reft no, no, I can't reft ! Oh ! Fanny, the fault is all your's. [Exit. SCENE IV. A Rough Lane, with Wood. Enter SIDNEY. Sid. So ! after ten years abfence, I'm arrived at laft ; and if I find my niece Fanny innocent as when I left her, I (han't grudge the labour that has made me rich. Very extraordinary that fhe has never written to me. All Mrs. Antidote's letters informed me fhe was well. My fon too I may hear news of him. How this fellow loiters. La Roque ! (OLIVER appears among the trees Oliv. I heard a'voice. Who's there ? Sid. 'Tis I Why do you linger ? Oliv. Oh ! a (tranger ! Sid. Ha ! Who art thou ? Oliv. A wretch! a miferable wretch ! Sid. What do you want, aye ? Oliv. Money. Sid. Zounds ! a thief. He does not look like one. You are no robber fpeak. Oliv. A robber don't don't this is too bad - Father fifter Oh ! no, no, no-^indeed I am no robber. Sid. I don't like this fellow (calk) I fay, La Roque ! I fay Enter LA La Ro. Biefs my foul ! here Sair! Veil, I vi(h we was arrive, I never was the man to like de torn-. ble in de ditch- den de fear of tief. Ah 1 begar ! here is von. Oliv. You dare not fay it, ANY THING NEW? 15 Sid. (to Oliver. ) What has been the caufe of this ? Oliv. A fiend in woman's (hapc. La Ro. A woman Oh ! la Canibal ! Sid. What woman ? Oiiv. No matter. She (hall live for repcntance*- I fliall not name her, La Ro. No you name her for fear your little body fhould dangle on cle gibbet. Oliv. No ! why fhould I fear any thing, now I have loft her ? La Ro. Loft her! Oh ! he means his vife I fup- pole- ah how different is me I had vife once I lofe her begar I never was fo comfortable in my Kfe. Sid. Peace. La Ro. De Town de village vc juftpafs have no doubt de juftice dere. You will foon beintroducee at Court, mon ami dis way ifyoupleafe, Sair ! To de left. Sid. I live to the right. La Ro. Oh ! ver veil, Sair : but vill you proced vid dis dis Oliv. What? La Ro. Gentleman pardonnez moi I beg par- don Diable n'import, if I like dis new acquaint- ance cf my mafter at all. Sid. Silence! hold your chattering Come hither. La Ro. Veil ! here I am I vim I vas any vere clfe Sid. Go forward to the village. My name will direct you to the houfe. Say I am coming, but don't repeat a ly liable of what has pafled here Re- member. LaRo. When (hall I forget, I do not know. Dat petit garden has frighten me out of my head all de wit 1 have* J6 ANY THING NEW? Sid. No difficult matter, that. You cowardly booby Why you are big enough to eat him. La Ro. Oh! vel, but I am not hungry. Vel, Sair, I fhall go find my way thro* all dis black foicft ; but I can't help thinking I (hould have been found more agreeable company dan dis gentleman. (dfide.) Begar I have de perception de little gentle- man, is big tief. [Exit. Sid. So, you want money? Otiv. Not for my {elf ; but I have a fitter father- Sid. What is your name ? Oliv. Oliver Sid. Oliver ! Oliver what ! Oliv t I have told you my name I'll hot dif- grace my father's. Sid. Why are you wandering here at fuch a time too? Oliv. You fhall hear. Not far diftant from this fpot, I became acquainted with an angel in beauty, but a very woman in difpofition ; I lov'd her da Jove her Oh ! Fanny ! Sid. Who did you fay ? Oliv. (aside.) Ha I I have betrayed but he cannot know her. Fanny Tranfit is her name, Sid. Indeed! (aside.) So, fo ! (he's one of your high-flyers, is fhe ; I'll foon tame her if it is fo. But your demand for money Oliv. Never 1 I never did demand it. 'Tis true, I might have acted wrong through the impulfe of defpair if you refufe to do good, you do it from refle&ion. Sid. His words and looks are thofe of innocence. I wifh to do right, and fear to do otherwife. There is money, I give it freely, not at your defire, but from the dictates of my own heart. Oliv. Heaven blefs you ! This will make my old father young again. 'Twill make him happy, tho* I can never be fo. ANY THING NEW? 17 Sid. I don't know that: If I find Mrs. Antidote, and be damn'd to her has been (luffing that gin's head with fine notions as they are called, curfe me if I don't ftuffher into fome hovel, where (he may ftudy thofe tricks all the reft of her life. Come, you ihall go with me, young man. Oliv. Any where, with you. But my father, one moment to fee my father. Sid. I forgot. You'll eafily find me in the vil- lage ; I'm a queer-looking little old fellow ; the folks in the village will make as much fufs about my appearance^ as if the Elephant was to be feen ther,e, or a long-tailed Kangaroo. [Exit. Oliv. Heaven blefs you ! Heaven will blels you, for you have faved my father. [Exit. SCENE V. An Apartment at Mrs. ANTIDOTE'S. Enter FANNY TRANSIT. Fanny, (tinging.) " A foldier, a foldier, a foldier for me." Heigho! they're gone, not a red coat to be feen ; no more Reviews, no more delightful inu- fie, no more moon-light walks. Why was not Oliver a foldier? in regimentals he'd have out- Ihone them all. It's a great pity he wasn't a fol- dier! Oh ! here comes my fage Duenna, Mrs. An- tidote, who wifhes to appear fitteen at forty five, by ufing every new cofmetic that's advertifed ; and be- caufe (he thinks that fooii(h old perfumer, Mr. Babble, wants to marry her, would tain have me take a liking to his ftupid fop of a fon. Enter Mrs. ANTIDOTE, (reading*) Mrs. Ant. Bloom of Circaflia Alabafter waQi, Otto of rofe French rouge Court plaifter. The very articles in which my toilet is molt in want. 18 ANY THING NEW? Oh, Fanny, I have juft received fuch gratifying in- telligence Fanny From my uhcle, Madam ? Mrs Ant. from your uncle, child! No; from Mr, Babble. He has juft received a new (lock of cofmetit s from London, by the help of which, we fliall eclipfe the whole village. fanny. Youth and beauty, Madam, require no aid from iuch quackeries! They are fit only for declining batchelors, and decayed old maids ! Mrs. Ant. Old maids, Mifs Tranfit ! Infufferable afTurance ! Fanny. But I guefs the caufe. The all-powerful Mr. Babble, whofe perfuaiive eloquence, would make you confume every noftrum in his (hop. Mrs. Ant. Silence ! filence! Mifs Tranfit, I infift ! Fanny. By all means, Madam ; and in return, I beg you'll never plague me by enumerating the ac- complifhments of his ftupid booby of a fon. My uncle, Madam, never intended me for the wife of a paltry perfumer MYS. Ant. Paltry perfumer, indeed! but I infift on your treating young Mr. Babble with proper re- fped. Fanny. With proper refpedl, I certainly will. I'll flap his ugly face the firft time he has the impudence to ihew it. JEREMY BABBLE (without.) J. ( Bab. Mrs. Antidote at home ? I'm a happy man. (Enters.} Both Ladies here doubly bJeft fay a good word to the young one for fon Peter- Mrs, Antidote, your mod obedient Mifs Fanny, yours juft caii'd in to pay my ciaty left the (hop in care of Peter my fon a young man of ftrong parts Mifs Tiahfit, though I fay it that (houdn't, cuts a crop in the higheft ityle of eLgance and for ANY THING NEW? 19 a peruke, he has no fellow his fa 1 her excepted excufe vanity, Ladies. The bill came fafe to hand, I truft never in the whole courfe of bufincfs re- ceived fo choice an afiemblage hope you have fixed on tr-e articles waited, < r you'll be too late ; and never again may Jeremiah B bble have fuch an op- portunity of gratifying his friends and the Public with fuperior goods. E-fprit de Rofe tranfparent Soap Macafitr Oil Hair, tooth and Nail Bruflies Combs of all defcriptions Wafhes and Lotions of ail kinds Powder-puffs Spanilh Blacking and Bear's greafe. Fanny. Blacking, did you fay, Mr. Babble? J. Bcb. Certainly Mifs Fanny certainly no- thing but what my fhop affords Drugs Chemicals Family Medicines and Perfumery in all its branches I polifh the heels as well as the head and in thcfe times, Ladies ^forry am I to fay it) the head's thought little of outride polifh is ail the go and heads are cropt inflead of ears. By the bye d'ye ufe Honey-water fome o'th* beft in England (e- ven and-fixpence a bottle my fon ufes ii he's got a head Fanny So has a calf- J. Bab Blcfs my foul very rude that A/TT. Ant. Allow me to fay, dear Mr Babble J. Bab. Dear I no fuch thing cheap as dirt, Ma'am only ieven-and-!ixpence damme, they waft a pint bctt.e to hold a quart. Mrs. sint. Youmiftake, Sir! 1 have mark'd thofe articles I with for, and you'll oblige me with calling with them yourfelf. J. Bab. Always grateful. Mrs. Ant. Or by fending your moft acccmplifhed fon ; but be fure he brings his head. J. Bab. Ha ! don't like that giil fon Peter muft 20 ANY THING NEW? tho' or fhop will go to the devil muft marry her I'll marry the old one make her look like a Venus in a month, by the help of my new fpecific. Blefs my foul ! Peter Enter PETER. Peter. Oh father, whc'd ha' thought it J. Bab, What! Any Thing New? Ptttr. Yes Old Whitethorn J. Bab. Indeed what of him ? Peter. Can't tell but young Whitethorn Fanny. What! Oliver Whitethorn ? has any thing happened ? Peter. Yes, fomething has happen'd Mrs; Ant. What is it, Mr. Peter? Ptttr. That's what I want to know couldn't get particulars fomething's gone wrong- Oliver's gone away Ellen's gone filly that's nothing new moft women keep her in countenance J Bab But who's taking care of my (hop, aye ? Peter. Oh, lord 1 forgot the (hop. J. Bab. Forgot the (hop ! Peter. Yes- heard there was fomething new away I run call'd at Ellen's (he cried fiighed, and fo forth very fond of me can't help it no more can I- Mum- I fay nothing 'twon't do afk'd her father for Oliver he rail'd at Mifs Tranfit call'd her flirt jilt coquette all forts of paw-paw names. J. Bab. But what's become of the (hop ? Peter. Damn the (hop fick of perfumery hate medicines want fomething new. Fanny. Pi evoking I fear I've behaved very ill to poor Oliver fliould any thing happen to him, I ihall break my heart. Mrs. Ant. Ridiculous! Mifs Tranfit I defire you'll attend my inftructions refpe&ing young Mr. Babble ANY THING NEW? 21 Fanny. I hate him deteft him yet well, Ma- dam, I (hall obey you ; I'll make the fool pleafed with himfelf, and by his means, it poffible, learn fomc news of my poor deferted lover. Mr. Babble J. Bab. (running forward.) Your (lave any com- mands in my Way ? Fanny. I w(h to have a little J. Bab. Arquebufade or orange flower-water Fanny, No, no, a few minutes converfation with you^* fon, Sir. Peter. With me blefs my foul here's fomething new out of the way, Dad ! I'm the man for the ladies my figure fetches 'em all J. Bab. Well done, Peter now's your time 1*11 run home dire&iy, (runs against Mrs. Ant.) Mrs. Antidote 'eg a thoufand pardons. Mrs. Ant, My dear Sir, you're not leaving us al- ready J. Bab. My dear Madam, your agreeable fociety Now's the time (hop may take care of itfeif, as Peter lays (retires with Mrs. Antidote.) Fanny. I wifh to fpeak that is to fay Peter. Oh ! oh ! bafliful can't bring it out fanny. You are no doubt aware of the favourable impreffion, I have received Peter. Favourable impreffion it's a done thing Fanny. Makes me anxious Peter. Agitation Xanny. To know the fate of one Peter. Palpitation Fanny; And from your lips alone I wait Peter. Expectation Fanny. To hear fome tidings of Oliver White- thorn. Peter. Damnation ! Fanny. When I receive intelligence of him, I (hall judge better how to conduct mytelf to one, who has J? ANY THING NEW? fo ftrong an intereft in this poor fluttering heart (aside.) If I fucceed I'll make a proper fool of you, before I've done. Peter. I wi(h you every fuccefs in that you can d.efire, Mifs Fanny I'll about it directly all the particulars (afiif) foon have her pretty pop- pet handiome couple , Fanny, Stay I depend on fecrecy Peter. Mum's the word I fay nothing -Peter's the boy, Fanny. And mould any thing tranfpire Peter. Any Thing New ? you have the firfl in- formation Blefs my foul here's an upfhot (J. BABBLE and Mrs. ANTIDOTE return ) Out of the way, Dad ; my figure has done it. [Exit. J. Bab. Why he went off with a bounce, like a bottle of my beft American Ipruce. Fanny. On a little meHage for me, Sir. J. Bab. He's highly honoured! oh! its all fet- tled the bargain's ftruck I'm a happy man Mrs. Ant. Vaftly well indeed, Miis Tranfit ; we'll talk of this prefently. Mr. Babble and myfelf have a 1 w arrangement* to make which will detain me Fanny-. Oh ! I beg I may not interrupt you; I feel a little indifpofed, and (hall be glad to retire. J. Bab* Indifpofed don't fay fo pray let me recommend care (hall 1 ftnd any thing-r-1 have every thing fal volatile ^ther^-^bartshorn fpirit of lavender aromatic vinegar, frefh from 'pothe- cary's hall, in the highdt ftate of perfection. Fanny. Nothing you can offer will be of the leaft fervice to me. I leave you to your tete-a-tete. In- terefting amiable couple ha ! ha. [**/ Bab. Ha! ha! Don't like that laugh, t ho' Smoke a quiz Didn't like that calve's head at all. Mrs. Ant. Friends like you, Sir, are feldom met ANY THING NEW? *3 with ; and I always like to make the mod of 'em It's a way I have. Bab. Madam ! It's a way I have. If not (hut up (hop but, with fuch a friend partner, I would fay Mn. Ant; Oh ! Mr. Babble ! Bab. Oh! Mrs. Antidote ! (aside.) She blufhes without rouge wonderful out of falhion long ago. Mrs. Ant. Adieu ! dear Mr. Babble. Endeavour to fpare an early hour You have motives f ufficient I truft Adieu. [Exit. J. Bab. Adieu dear Mrs. Antidote that wo- man's Antidote by name, and antidote by nature Love's out of the queftion muft marry her for all that As to motives I've one that's irrefiftabie my bill knock at the door again in an hour- want money muft have it and (he has fifteen hun- dred pounds certain remedy for a confumption will do more execution than all the phyfic in my (hop* SONG. JEREMIAH BABBLE. When from London first I came, I wasn't worth a crown, For tho' puffing rais'd me up, The hammer knock'd me down ; So, as one trade would not do ? I resolv'd to try how two Would succeed in this wonderful town O t Open'd shop Ladies crop, When they're ill powder, pill, Sell to cure 'em life insure 'em ; Either please 'em so I fleece 'em, Shave 'em, latherum Omnium gatherum, Hey down, oh down, deny derry down. Was my way in this wonderful town O I 54 ANY THING NEW? Being up to every trick, I took a shop on tick ; But they found f coud'nt pay, , So, 'egad I run away ; And jogging off so gaily, Was stopp'd by a bum bailey, Who met me in this wonderful town O I Lock up house had me close, Sins to varnish paid my garnish, Bound in fetters like my betters ; Could* at pay hanging day, ' Spirits fail'd me friendship bail'd me, Hey down, &c. What a chance in this wonderful town O ! Thus, traders, after smashes, Like the Phoenix from her ashes, Recover safe and sound, Paying three-pence in the pound; So I from limbo easy, And with something new to please you, Send my bills thro' all this wonderful town O ! Hope you'll stop, at Babble's shop* Please to call serve you all ; This the place state your case, Loaves and fishes just my wish is, That's the whole upon my soul, Hey down, &c. And to satisfy this wonderful town O I [Exit. ANY THING NEW? ACT II. SCENE I. OLD WHITETHORN'S Cottage. Enter OLD WHITETHORN and ELLEN, White. I tell you Ellen, you ought to rejoice at getting clear of fuch a companion as that Peter Babble. He's for all the world like a weed in my garden, winding himfelf round a beautiful flower, deftroying the ftem that nourifh'd it. But enough of him: happinefs comes fo feldom, he's a fool that will not make the mod on't. Elltn. Then why not tell me this good news, fa- ther; 'twould help to make me happier. Whit. It's an odd whim to be fure; but I muftn't now don't you be cjri)us, Ellen have patience, girl You fee a little fpot of good luck, has been lying fallow a plaguy long time, and I have but juft turn'd it up. Come fetch me a bottle of goofe- berry wine, Ellen, and then fee if your brother is coming. [Exit ELLEN. Now that girl has got love into her head, and no thing will latisfy her but a hufband. Well, perhaps (he's right; I h.ive heard matrimony is the only cure for it. ' fwas much the fame with me, when I was a youngfter, fo I can't blame her. ELLEN, with Bottle and Cup.) Ellen. Here's the wine, father, it's the laft bottle ; I've drawn the cork ; but it's very hard you won't tell me now : - Now, pray tell me ! D *8 ANY THING NEW? Whits. Get away you coaxing baggage ! Look out for Oliver, I wi(h he was come. Ellen, bo do I, I long to fee him , perhaps he knows the fecret, and Tin fure he'll tell me. [Exit. White. I am glad (he's gone, (he'd certainly have found me out. Now, then, I'll drink a glafs of wine in chearfulnefs, and I'll have a fong too, tho' I fir,g it myfelf. (Fills his cup.) SONG WHITETHORN. When I have my bottle, I'll never complain, Nor envy the drinkers of Hock or Champaign; It strengthens my body, my spirit it cheers, And takes from my age, aye, a dozen good years, In a glass of good wine. From my snug little cottage, I ne'er wish to roam, But I'll drink a good health to the lads far from home : By land and by sea we have conquered they tell us, So soldiers and sailors and all jolly fellows. Jn a glass of good wine. At home and abroad now together we stand, And in friendly alliance are bound heart and hand : Confusion to those who such friendship would sever - The King and the Prince and Old England for ever! In a glass of good wine. Enter PETER BABBLE and ELLEN. Peter. Can't fay I know any thing about him wifb I d;d tell Fanny direclly, ar.d then- - An then, what ? Peter. Something new, a wedding two perhaps But mum's the word; ANY THING NEW? 27 While. Weil, Matter Peter, what's the news with you? Peter. Don't you know dear me, not know the news ? Rare work in the village Old Sidney's come back Ellen. Indeed 1 Mr Sidney ? White. Well, that's nothing new ; I've feen him. Pettr. You feen him hem! that's a twang ! Impoffible ! I got firft intelligence all in commo- tion met his Valey de Sham ~>ot all the particu- lars ftopt laft night top o'the hill footpad and a blunderbufs made a devil ot a nolle did you hear the report ? White. No. Mr. Sidney faid nothing of this to me. (aside.} Peter. Kobb'd him of twenty pounds. White. Twenty pounds ! Peter. Yes Ihort man no figure not at all courageous wifh J had been there talk'd of dif- trefs- his father lifter fo forth all gammon, you know. White* Ha! what, his father! Peter. Yes, I've my fufpicions ; but, mum's the word I fay nothing can't help thinking. Where's Oliver ? White. It can't be. He never could. No, no, it can't be ! Ellen. Dear father, what's the matter ? Why do you turn fo pale ? Peter. Thought as much all in a pucker know 'twas Oliver great difuefs very furry can't help tho' all the better for me. Dpn't be alaim'd mayn't be him after all. White. Mayn't be who ? Speak, fcoundrel, who do you mean ? Piter. 1 ! I ! meanrthat is blefs my foul, don't fly out fo !- 28 ANY THING NEW? Wbite. Tpeak! Peter. Now, don't look fo fiercc-^-you frighten the breath out of my body, and I can't fpeak a word to fave my lite. 1 wi.fh 1 was fafe in bed, or any where elie. (aside.) White. Rafcal, this inftant ! (cottars him ) Peter. (Falling on bis knees ) Well, \ve I Oh ! Lord Ch ! would you murder me ! why, 1 only gueffed, only furmifed Ol -Ol-liver - Enter OLIVER. White. (Throwing Peter from him.) Ah ! Oliver, I knew it was impoffible. Ha! ha! what an old fool was I, to think it, Ouv. Give me your hancU father. (Peter fteah off during this sfeeck. ) Ellen Dear, dear, Oliver, I am io glad you arc returned. Oliv. Give me a kifs. White. Damme but I'll prune the Perfumer's ears tho' What! efcaped ! he'sjuii in time. ^E/len. Be (till, Oliver ; where have you been ? Olii\ Don't afk where I have been ! Dad, give me your hand. You'll not flarve now. Oh ! I'm fo glad, I'm io I'll fpeak to thce foon I'm fq happy Ellen. Happy indeed ! why your eyes are brimful of tears ! Oliver. Are they ? nevermind my heart, Ellen, my heart is full: Father was in diftrefs, and all by me. But now, all's right again. Here Dad, hold thy hand here's money -enough to keep the wolf from the door a twelvemonth ! Twenty Pounds, father! Ellen. Twenty pounds ! Wbtte* Twenty pound* ! my heart mjfgives rne* (starts.) ANY THING NEW? 29 Oliv. Take it, father; take it ! White. Where did it come from ? Oliv. A kind heart, and an open hand : Mr. Sidney; * White. And do you think Yd touch the wages of a villain ? Oliv. A villain ! Do you fufpect then that I Whit. Obtained it by force. . Oliv. I don't deferve this ! I met Mr. Sidney by chance, by chance he heard of our diftrefs, and gave it freely. Wkit. Did he ? I am alive again ! Oliver, poor boy, I afk your pardon. Oh! that damn'd Per- fumer ! Come, lad ! come, Ellen ! Honefty, and my children, ha' been the pride of my life ; and while they are unblemifh'd, I am contented happy ! Come, come. [Exeunt. SCENE II. We Village. Enter PETER. Peter. Thank Heaven, I've efcaped from the clutches of that t' ugh ever-green Whitethorn. I'll venture no more uithin his premifcs. Ha! by all that's beautiful, here comes my little Fanny! blefs me, how (he trips along, and glides over the grafs as imooth as pomatum. Enter FANNY. Fanny. PQia ! this blockhead here ! I hop'd to have met Oliver here; for after all, my heart tells me, I love him dearly. Peter. Hey ! Love him dearly I know you love me but alas ! haven't any thing new to tell you Oliver's a rogue, that's nothing new I love you, that's nothing new and I've juft efcaped being Kicked out of doors fanny, And that's nothing new f As to your lov- SO ANY THING NEW ? ing me, poor man, you can'c help that; but I'm in no humour to laugh at you at prefent. As to Oliver's being a rogue, as he is a friend of mine, I mud de- lire you to fpeak lefs harfhly of him; for tho* I ill- treat him, I won't fuffer any body elfe to abufe him behind his back. Peter. And I'm fure I fhan't abufe him before his face But Fanny ; ah, Fanny ! ah, Fanny I heigho! J fear you love him Fanny. Me love him ; nonfenfe, Peter ; you're joking ; but certainly I do love fomebody. SONG. 'FANNY TRANSIT. When Oliver try'd, To make me his britfe, Then I was the plague of his life; Cr^'d he, I love Fanny, Much belief than any,. I'm sure she'll make me a good wile, I sung lira, la, la, &c. 3 fjazM and perplcx'd him,, I worry'd and vex'd him. With lira, la, la, &c. With r age h e w as w a rin 'd in passion he stormed, As loud as a drum or a fife; Now, don't be so silly, But say, Fanny, vrlll 'ye, Be Oliver's dear Httle wife; I sung lira, la, la, &c. I teaz'd and perplex'd him, I worry d and vcxM Itim, With lira, la, la, &c. [Exeunt severally. AN* THING NEW? 31 SCENE III. A Room at Mrs. ANTIDOTE'S. Enter Mrs. AN TIDOTE and LA ROQUE. La Ro. Madame, fur mon honeur, I allure you I fpeak the veritable truth. Monfieur Sidney is ar- rive, dat is he was arrive ; and why he is no come, I have not the perception, I cannot tell. Mrs. Ant. I'll not believe it ; you are an impof- tor. La Ro, Impofture, ah ! Madame ! Mrs. Ant. Mr. Sydney in England ! 'tis quite impoflible ! La Ro. Tobefure, Ma km, it tnuftbe impofliblc if de Lady fay fo ; but it is very true for all dat. Mrs. Ant. Where did you leave him ? La Ro. Where I leave him ? I don't know pre- cifement where I leave him. Mrs. Ant. This is incomprehenfible : I am quite in the dark. La Ro. No, Madam, I no leave him in the dark. Begar, if any malheur happen to my matter, I (hall be hanged as de accomplice, becaufe I not tell. Mrs* Ant. 1 his uncertainty is provoking, and if he is really returned, before my union with Mr. Babble, the confequence will be dreadful. La Ro. Dreadful indeed, if 1 (hall be hanged; I don't know what 1 am do. (a knock without.) Ha ! fomebody knock, Mr. Sidney is come, now you will be too happy. Mrs. Ant. Oh, if it is he, I'm ruin'd ! undone! Enter BABBLE. Ha! Mr. Babble, 1 rejoice to fee you, J. Bah. Mrs, Antidote! La Ro. Ah ! ah, comprend moi, I fee des Lover ; to, ANY THING NEW? O, I have de perception ; I no fpoil fport ; I go fearch for Mr. Sydney: vat adorable Twain he is 'tis Cupid and Pfyche I wifh very happy in your matrimony, (sings.) I wifh you joy. [Exit. J. Bab. Who the devil's he ? Gone however BOW'S my time, all of a twitter Phew! blcfs my foul mud pop the queftion. Mrs. Ant. If he does not declare hitnfclf now, I fhall be expofed, loft, 1 prefume, dear Sir, I can guefs the motives of your vifit. I muftn't difcou- rage him now. J. Bab. If I might be fo bold, dear Mrs. Anti- dote feems in a good humour. Mrs. Aftt* Nay, do not helitate ; I am altogether unprepared for your demand J.Bab ^Demand! means my bill well with all my heart -touch that firft then to bufinefs from your hands 'tis but a trifling favour Mrs. Ant. A trifling favor my hand and fortune a trifling favor ! but this is no time to hefitate ! Well, Sir, I wait your plcafure, 1 prefume the amount of your felicitation is fitnply J. Bab. Forty- fix pounds, Madam there's a bill and receipt for goods deiiver'd Mrs* Ant. Heavens, Mr. Babble this is too much /. Bab. Too much ! Cheap as any houfe in Lon- don every article from the firft importers, and of the bed quality. Mrs. Ant. Give me leave to fay, Sir I expedited fomething, more tender, more your feelings I (hould have thought J. Bab. Are of the moft delicate texture Fine as gold-beater's fkin no lubjecl, believe me, is fo tender to my nerves asthe prefentation of a Bill, efpecially when ordered to lie on the table, M*s. Ant. Sir, I was prepared for ANY THING NEW? 33 J. Bab. I thought fo 'thas been long on my books. Mrs. Ant. A declaration of Love J. Bab. Oh lord ! Bill thrown out! Damn the (hop I (hall ruin all! Now for a dofe of Love- powder. But, Madam what is money to the fen- timents I feel dirt drofs a mere drug afTafce- tida fenna fugar of lead fweet, while it poilons: No I barter gold for love let others pant for riches -'tis here I figh. Mrs. Ant. If I thought you fincere, Mr. Babble J. Bab. Nay then, let me fwear Enter PETER. Peter. Swear not at all fo fays the Proverb bad habit I never do-^damn'd unlucky tho' I can't get the particulars for Fanny. Mrs. Ant. Stupid dolt, at fuch a time too J. Bab. Get out; you blockhead don't you fee- don't you fee? Peter. See what ? Oh ! fomething new wonder- ful Dad wants another wife ! J. Bab. Not a word, you whelp, or I'll nail you to the counter all the reft of your life, like a bad dollar, you dcg ! Peter. Mum I (ay nothing off well done, Dad not a word more, -Mrs. Antidote* beg par- don won't intrude better engaged I iee io am I- mum's the word I'm off [Exif. Mr*. Ant Provoking imrufion J. Bab. Dreadful indeed, irritating as a blifter; but we are alone again and you, adorable creatuie, efface every difagreeabie impreffion like cold cream or milk of roles : Now then delay no longer, but pro- nounce the fate of him, who fo long has figUcd at E 3* ANY THING NEW? the feet of beauty, (ds Mrs. .ANTIDOTE turns her head afitRtdly) SIDNEY enters^ and places himfelf bt twetn them ) Mrs. Ant. I am overcome I am your's for ever. Ha! Sid. Hey-day what's all this J Bab. (rising.) Baiilk'd again! The fates are igainft me, Love is a dead article, and I clofe the account Sid. Upon my word, Mrs. Antidote I give you joy; I didn't expect at your time-a-day to find an admirer at your feet ; 1 beg pardon for the intrufion however. Mrs. Ant. Mr. Sidney pray Sir excufe this agitation, the furprize of feeing you, fo unexpected Sid. Ay, ay, I thought you*d be glad to lee me. But where's Fanny where's my niece, eh ? I've got a huiband for her too ; fo one may chance to have a double wedding 'hey, Mrs. Antidote ? J Bab. Hufband for Fanny? Babble and Son bankrupts both ! Sid. But why not introduce your friend ? May ^ be allowed, Mrs, Antidote Mrs. Ant, I beg a thoufand pardons, I declare I am fo fluttei'd I am fo fhaken J. Bab. So am I all in emotion like a faline draught. Mrs. Ant. Mr. Babble, Sir, Mr. Sidney (intro- ducing (hem.) J. Bab. Sir, your mod obedient. Sidney re- turned fomething new for Peter. Sid> Babble Babble! why -that's the perfumer and phyfic feller that fet up in the village jutl as I left it. (Mrs. Antidote motions.) Well, I give you joy, and /hall be happy to ferve you, Sir. J. Bab. Sir, if you 11 give me your cuftom, I (hall be happy to ferve you the greatwil joy you can pof- THING NEW? 3* fitly confer on your mod devoted fervanf, Jeremiah Babble Sign of the Mufk rofe Can't mils the houfe Peftle and mortar over the door fweets as well as phyfic fupplv with both on the lowett terms. Sid. Why, Sir, I never ufe perfumes ; and as to phyfic 1 han't taken a dofe thefe forty years J. Bab Zounds! this man will live for ever* mud make him a cuftomer flatter myfelf I can ac- comodate with moft articles in family ufe All kinds of chemical and galenical preparations mineral, vegetable, and ackaline faits (cooling and ui'eful) nitric and oxyginated muricatic acids (fweetens the blood and ftrengthens the body) fyrup of buck- thorn extract of rofes, fafarparella, effenceof coils- foot, &c. Hair powder (there I hit you, you ufe it) beft in Europe common or French- poma- tums, cowflip role and jeffamin. Eifences ber- gamot thyme and muik orange and elder flower- waters Spa niih wool, and coral lip-faive. Now for a coup-de-main as they fay. Mr. Sidney brill of my (hop- Mrs, Antidote bill for goods deli- vered forry to be troubleiome forty-fix pound muft attend to bufinefs Adieu Mr. Sidney, your moft obedient. [#//. Sid. Why I never heard fuch a tongue in the mouth of a woman ! the fel'ow's as deafening as a ballad finger, or a watchman's rattle! What the plague's this ? " Colmetic bloom carmine '* forty-fix pounds" This muft be intended for you. But you don't feem fo glad to fee me as I expf fcted. Mrs. Ant. Pardon me, Sir the peculiarity of the circumftance- Sid Ah ! well, I afk your pardon ; go forward, and I'll be with you immediately. I know it's curled difagreeable to be interrupted at fuch a criiu : I fhouldn't have relifh'd it mytelf.. Mrs. Ant. If I don't efcape, I am expofed for ever [*'.' 30 ANY THING NEW ? Sid Ha ! ha! who the deuce would have thought it ! In love forfooth ! but I have almoft ceafed to be aftonifhed at any thing ! Now who in the name of wonder could have fuppofed, that the very mo- ment I had fet foot in the village, I mould light upon Old Whitethorn and that he fhould tell me, ray boy, John Sidney, was. alive and well - But he ever knew of my marriage, and I, like a proud afs, was afhamed to acknowledge it. Oh! the days when I was young ! Lord ! lord ! how a man's follies in his youth, rife up in judgment againft him in old age ! 'Tis a truth, in my youth, I was frisky and gay, With a figure and a face to suit any; Lasses cry'd, when I sigh'd, now don't teaze me so, pray, But, still, I was'nt slighted by many: When'er I appear'd, Smiling, they leer'd ; When to 'em I bow'd, Heard 'em whisper aloud, $uch a grace, such a face, to-morrow I'd marry, Oh ! these were the days of young Harry. Thus, alas ! youth will pass, so all have a turn, But why may not old men be merry ? If so old, that they're cold, and their hearts will not burn, They may keep their stomach's warm with old sherry. But I feel the glow, Tho* love's fire is low, Nor live in the dark, While fanning a spark, And in age, I'll engage, a damsel to carry.- - Then take care, pretty maids, of old Harry. [Exit. ANY THING NEW? 37 SCENE IV. Another Jpartrnent. Enter SIDNEY, and FANNY TRANSIT. Sid. So, thefe are her pranks, are they ? What a thorough-paced devil it is ; but I have discovered her tricks, that's one comfort. So Ihe never gave you one of my letters for the laft half-a-dozen years, hey? Fanny. Not one, Sir ; and fcarce money enough to buy pins. Sid. Well, Fanny, I fuppofe you have plenty of lovers ? Now I'll try her. (aside ) Fanny. I did not think it right to encourage any, Sir, 'till I knew your pleafure Sid. What then you have accepted no one. Fanny* None, Sir ; fent them all to the right- about. * March"- faid I and away they went. Sid. Never gave your promife to any ? Fanny. What mean thefe queftions (aside.) No, Sir, never. Sid. She fticks to her ftory. (aside ) Well, I'm glad to hear it -for you muft know, I have found a hufband for you, You are not engaged therefore, I fuppcrfe, you'll hardly refufe my fon, and twenty thoufand pounds. Fanny. Your fon, Sir ! your fon ! Sid. Don't be ur-eafy;'' If you don't like him, when you fee him, fay lo honeftly ; whatever you do, Fanny, never create hopes you do not mean to realize. Never become a coquette, at the ex- pence of honour and honefty. Fanny. He cuts me to the heart ! Sid. You, I truft, are above fuch an aftion. Now, I am told, there's a poor lad, by name, Oliver \Vhitetnorn, who ha,s been ruined by luch a cha- 38 ANY THING NEW? rafter The report goes, that, to retrieve his father's wants (brought on by her deceiving the fon) in a moment of defperation, he committed a robbery: and, for aught I know, his life may pay the forfeit. (Fanny claps her hands,} Eh ! what's the matter ? Fanny. Oh ! Sir (pare me I cannot fupport this ! Sid. This intereft for a ftranger ! How's this ! Fanny. Oh! no ; he is no ftranger. I have known him long known his worth his heart ! Std. Indeed! Enter LA ROQUE. La Ro. Ah, ah ! Monsieur Sidney. Then it is not true vat I hear. Pray, Sir, tell me Vas you not rcbb'd and murdered and toft in de ditch. Sid. Why, it appears I was not. Come, cheer tip Fanny, all will be well, I warrant. La Ro. Pauvre Ma'mfelle You terrify her by de news ! Do not believe him. Mon enfant, you hear him fay he is not murdered. Fanny. Was it my uncle he attacked dreadful. Sid. She feels it feverely I pity her. But if every giddy girl had fuch a lefibn, 'twould foon cure 'em of flirtation, (aside,) Fanny. I am better let me retire. This inftant will I fend to Oliver. And tho* I have ufed him cruelly, he (hall find that I ftill prize his humble merit nor (hall twenty thoufand pounds tempt me to wrong the man I love. [Exit* LaRo* Oh !fye ! fye ! You have no gallantrie.You have fay iomething to her make her ou des espoir ! He is de grand favage of dc vorld he never love de woman in all his life. Sid. La Rccjue ! La Ro. I am come, Sair, agreeable to your order. ANY THING NEW? 39 Sid. The poor thing's in a fad pucker; but Til purfue my plan T pity her but (he Reserves it. La Ro. Vat fignify pity. If your pbn is to break de poor child's heart You are not Englishman. Sid. What, your French blood is up, is it ? La Ro. If your Englis blood vas up vat you call, you would not make one poor lady miferable. I ferve you for no ting all round about de corner of de vide vorld but I vil not be dam ver ever I go, for de ill ufageof helplefs woman. Sid. Your fentiment is good ; io I pardon its mif- application. Now, Jiften to what I fay. My niece Fanny has been playing the fool. La Ro. Ha! my vife play the fool too but fhe could not help. Sid. Plague take your wife. La Ro. Vid all my heart. De devil take my vife She plague me every hour I live. Sid. Liften, I tell you, to me. La Ro. I open both my ear. Sid. In the evening you muft wait at the bottom of the nut-walk, in the garden, and bring a perfon to me who will wait there Now mind what I fay Don't begin chattering your damn'd broken Eng- lifh, or you will fpoil all, I have plann'd it fo that he will expe& to meet me, but as I may be mifs'd in the houle, you muft take my place. Come with me, and you (hall undcrftand me. La Ro. You vil be very kind, indeed at pre- fent I underftand nothing Sid. 'Tis my fon, I expeftyouto meet. La Ro. Your son ! your fon ! Sid. Come. ' [Exit. La Ro. Ha ! ha ! entendez vous de littel (hild la petit gar$on. Ah ! ha! I have de perception Alon,Monfieur Vivi la bagatille de Jittel (hild, ha ! ha ! vive 1'amour. [Exit. ANY THING NEW ? SCENE V. BABBLE'S BABBLE. So, fliop's (hut that's right open to- morrow with double eclat no longer a (hew of empty Boxes till lull as a tick over the door Babble and Co. charming! delightful! n:?at trick of mine giving the bill -anfwer came fafe to hand (looking at a tetter, which in returning to his pocket be drops.) How I long to clafp her her money, in Iliefe fond arms. Let me feenot quite time (looks at his watch.) - Hope (he'll be punctual. The fecond Mrs. Babble draught to be repeated Matrimony ! -brimftone and treacle (weet and bitter never mind four-crout to-day, honey and molafles to-morrow llick to me like a leech all the left of her life. If (he runs rufty, muft rub her off fend her to Smithfield poor John Hobbs fenthis wife there 'twould not do no go. But he was happy at laft* SONG. JEREMIAH BABBLE. (For this Song, the Author is indebted to a Friend.) A jolly shoe-maker, John Hobbs, John Hobbs, A jolly shoe-maker, John Hobbs ; He married Jane Carter, No damsel look'd smarter, But he caught a Tartar, John Hobbs, John Hobbs, Yes, he caught a Tartar, John Hobba* ANY THING NEW? 41 He tied a rope to her, John Hobbs, John Hobbs, He tied a rope to her, John Hobbs; To 'scape from hot water To Smithfield he brought her. But nobody bought her, Jane Hobbs, Jane Hobbs. They all were afraid of Jane Hobbs. On, who'll buy a wife! says Hobbs, John Hobbi, A iweet pretty uife, says Hobbs; But somehow they tell us, The wife-dealing fellows, Were all of them sellers^ John Hobbs, John Hobbs, And none of 'em wanted Jane Hobbs. ^ The rope it was ready, John Hobbs, John Hobbs, Come, give me the rope, says Hobbs, I won't stand to wrangle, Myself I will strangle, And hang dingle dangle, John Hobbs, John Hobbs, So he hung dingle dangle, John Hobbs. But down his wife cut him, Jane Hobbs, John Hobbs, Yes down his wife cut him, John Hobbs, With a few bubble bubbles, They settled their troubles, Like must married couples, John Hobbs Jane Hobbs, Oh, happy shoe.maker John Hobbs. [Exit. Enter PETER BABBLE cautwufly^ as BABBLE goes. Peter. Dad's all alive merry as a grig a thriving wooer perhaps -hey what's this ? (takes up the Let- F 42 ANY THING NEW ? ttr Babble dropt.) " Mr. Babble," woman's hand " I have too long delayed the acknowledgment *' that I love. I will meet you at the end of Mr. " Sydney's garden this evening. You can there " explain the particulars." The particulars Ah ! poor Fanny clear as day-light wants to know about Oliver. But how came it here? that bandy-legged fervant of our's always leaves my letters in the fhop moft time to go father's off (hop (hut now Cupid be propitious let not thy votary fue in vain Can't marry 'em all I'll have Fanny, and leave the reft to pins. If this figure doesn't fetch her, nothing will I'm off. [Exit. SCENE VI. The Garden (Dark.) LA ROQUE discovered. La Ro. Very agreeable bufmefs I have got dis jardain is as dark as de mouth of de dog. I have fcratch and tear myfelf wid all de bramble, 'till I have no (kin left from my head to my heel. Begar lama flea alive dis muft be de place I hope he vil not make me wait more as he can help. Bew ew-ew (shivers.) If I had not brought de cordial Coniac, I fhould be petrify by de cold, (drinks.) Ha ! t>on ver good brandy indeed ! Enter BABBLE. J. Bab. So fhe's here Don't like her drink- ing brandy tho* La .Ro. 1 hear him he is come, Enter Mr . ANTIDOTE, on the oppofite fide* Mrs. Ant. Suiely I heard Tome one approach- hift Sir, I am here. ANY THING NEW ? 43 La Ro. Vat de devil has he two fons ! Mrs. Ant. This punctuality is delightful. You tinderftoo.1 your inftru&ions exadlly. La Ro. Dis moft be him. J. Bab. I did pat as a prefcription never failed in my life. Come, the fooner we are off the better like a bottle of foda can't be too quick. La Ro. No! dis moft be him. J. Bab. Pray do not hefitate her fpirits fail her take another drop. (La Roque drinks,) Mrs. An\ Take another drop ! What does he mean by that. -Sir! Mr. Babble! La Ro. Babble-^- for what lie call me Babble I have not fpeak a vord J. Bab. Now, then, give me your hand, and fol- low cautioufly. (Takes La Rocque's hand] Devil of a big fift for a wi e. (asLle.) Mrs. Ant. 'Tis your's for ever! J. Bab Phew ! 'tis accomplifh'd its over Monftrous bafhful tho', even in the dark come. (In groping about La Roque lays hold of Mrs. Antidote's dress,) La Ro. Begar dat moft be old woman. [Exit Babble drawing La Roque off'.'] Enter PETER BABBLE at the back of the Scene. Peter. Juft in time hear footfteps where are you my love my angel 'tis fhe 'tis the dear creature herfelf. ^7 akts Mrs. Antidote's hand.) Poft>chaife waiting fo's the Parfon fo am I (A fat'fc.) Her kve's unutterable can't fpeak a word come -tell you all the particular as we go. Airs Ant. Here is fureJy iome miliake. But I have ventured too tar to retreat, (dside.) Peter. Bravo, Peter hang me but this is fome n thing new ! [Exit wading Mrs. Antidote. 44 ANY THING NEW? SCENE VII. A Chamber. Enter SIDNEY. Sidney. I declare, I am quite impatient to behold this fon of mine once again. I wonder he is not here. The evening is fo dark, that, that blockhead La Roque may have blundered into the filh-pond for all I know. Oh ! here comes Fanny now I (hall witnefs the effedt his appearance will have on her, Enter FANNY TRANSIT. Well, Niece, are you prepared to meet my boy as, I could with ? Fanny. I fear not, Sir. With fhame I acknow- ledge it was I, who inconfide'atdy behaved fo ill to, Oliver Whitethorn. I have made the only recom- pence in my power and prom i fed him my hancl undivided a heart unchangeable. Enter LA ROQUE. Sid. Well, did you find him ? La Ro. Find him, you did not tell me of twins, I find two. Sid. Why doefn't he appear but the poor youth is agitated no doubt he is but young not more than twenty and 1 warrant, a imart looking fellow. La Ro. As to young, I know nothing as to fmart look certainment- he is very imart -he head is tfrefs a la cheufluer like de colliflower. Sid. Colliflower! ftupid fcoundreL Bring him here dire&ly. * La Ro. I {hall bring him to your prefence. ANY THING NEW? 45 Enter WHITETHORN, OLIVER, lose yet, thou hast one treasure left -innocence! Guard well thy heart, for should the fatal pas-, .sion there take root, 'twill rob theeof thy peace. Cla. You told me, once, love's impulse could not be resisted. KeL When the object is worthless, it should aiot be indulged. Cla. Is Lothair worthless ? KeL No but he is poor, almost as you are. Cla. Do riches without love give happiness ? KeL Never. Cla. Then I must be unhappy if I wed the ' Miller GrindofF. KeL Not so not so ; independence gives >comfort, but love without competence is endless misery. You can never wed Lothair. Cla. (Sighing) lean never love the miller. Scene /.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 7 KeL Then you shall never marry him though to see you GrindofFs wife be the last wish of your old father's heart. Go in, child ; go in, Claudine. (Claudine kisses his liand^ and goes into tlie cot- tage) 'Tis plain her heart is rivetted to Lothair, and honest Grmdoff yet must sue in vain. I know not how to act, the thought of leaving her aloneand unprotected^embitters every moment that I live. She has been my only joy, my only com- fort through an age of sorrow 1 To deny Lothair will but increase her hatred to the miller 1 know not how to act. Enter LOTHAIR hastily. Lot. Ah ! Kelmar. and alone ! where is Clan- dine ? KeL At home, in her father's house, where should she be? Lot. Then she has escaped she is safe and I am happy I did not accompany her in vain. KeL Accompany ! accompany ! Has she then told me a falsehood ? were you with her, Lo- thair ? Lot. No ye yes. (Aside.) I must not alarm iiiru. JKtL What mean these contradictions ? iLo/. She knew not 1 was near her You have denied our meeting but you cannot prevent my loving her I have watch'd he;r daily through the village and along the borders of the forest. KeL I thank you ; but she needs no guard ; her poverty will protect her from a thief. Lot. Will her beauty protect her from a liber- tine ? KeL Her virtue will. Lot. I doubt it : what can her resistance avail against the powerful arm of villainy ? KeL Is there such a wretch ? Lot. There is. S THE MILLER AND HIS MEN". [_Ad I. Kcl. Lothair, Lothair ! I fear you glance at the Miller Grindoff. This is not well ; this is not just. Lot. Kelmar, you wrong me ; 'tis true,, he is my enemy, for he bars my road to happiness. Yet I respect his character ; the riches that in- dustry has gained him he employs in assisting the unfortunate he has protected you and your child, and I honor him. KeL If not to GrindofT, to whom did you allude ? Lot. Listen : As I crossed the hollow way in the forest, where the old oaks twine their huge arms across, and make the road most gloomy, I heard a rustling in the copse. Claudine had reached the bank above. As I was following, voices, subdued and whispering, struck my ear. Her name distinctly was pronounced: " She comes/' said one ; " Now ! now we may secure her/' cried the second ; and instantly two men advanced ; a sudden exclamation burst from my lips, and arrested their intent ; they turned to seek me, and with dreadful imprecations vowed death to the intruder. Stretched beneath a bush of holly I lay concealed ; they passed within my reach ; I scarcely breathed, while I observed them to be ruffians, uncouth and savage they were banditti. Kcl. Banditti ! are they not yet content ? All that I had all that the hand of Providence had spared, they have deprived me of; and would they take my child ? Lot. 'Tis plain they would. Now, Kelmar, hear the last proposal of him you have rejected. Without Claudine my life is but a blank, useless to others, and wretched to myself ; it shall be risked to avenge the wrongs you have suffered. Pll seek these robbers ! if I should fall, your daughter will more readily obey your wish, and 7.1 THE MILLAR AND HIS MEN. 9 become the wife of Grindoff. If I should suc- ceed promise her to me. The reward I shall re- ceive will secure our future comfort, "and thus your fears and your objections both are satisfied. Kel. (affected) Lothair, thou art a good lad, a noble lad, and worthy my daughter's love ; she had been freely thine, but that by sad experience I know how keen the pangs of penury are to a parent's heart. My sorrows may descend to her when I am gone, but I have nothing to bequeath her else. Zo/. Then you consent ? Kel. I do, I do; but pray be careful. I fear 'tis a rash attempt ; you must have help. Lot. Then indeed 1 fail as others have before n\e. No, Kelmar, I must go alone, pennyless, unarmed, and secretly. None but yourself must know my purpose, or my person. Kel. Be it as you will; but pray be careful; come, thou shalt see her. (The. mill stops.) Lot. I'll follow ; it may be my last farewell* Kel. Come in. I see the mill has stopped. Grindoff will be here anon ; he always visits me at night-fall, when labor ceases. Come. [Exit Kelmar. . Lot. Yes, at the peril of my life I'll seek them. With the juice of herbs my face shall be disco- loured, and in the garb of misery I'll throw my- self within their power the rest I leave to Pro- vidence But the miller comes. [Exit to the Cottage. (Music. The Miller appears in perspective coming from the Crag in the Rock. A* the Boat disappears on the oppo* site side the two Robbers, Riber and Golotz, enter hastily, Rl. We are too late she has reached the cot* tee. C 10- THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [Act L Go. Curse on the interruption that detained us ; we shall be rated for this failure. Ri. Hush ! not so loud, (goes cautiously to the window of the cottage.) Ha ! Lothair. Go. Lothair ! 'twas he then that marr'd our purpose ; he shall smart for't. Ri. Back back ; he comes. On his return he dies ; he cannot pass us both. (Music.) ( They retire as the Boat draws up to the Bank the Miller jumps ashore Lothair at the same moment enters from the Cottage. Gri. Lothair ! (appears disconcerted.} Lot. Ay my visit here displeases you, no doubt. Gri. Nay, we are rivals, but not enemies, I trust. We love the same girl; we strive the best we can to gain her if you are fortunate I'll wish you joy with all my heart ; if 1 should have the luck on't, you'll do the same by me I hope. Lot. You have little fear ; 1 am poor, you, are rich. He needn't look far that would see the end on't. Gri. But you are young and likely. 1 am ho- nest and rough ; the chances are as much yours as mine. Lot. Well, time will shew. 1 bear you no enmity. Farewell ! Gri. He must not pass the forest (aside.) Whi- ther go you ? Lot . To the village I must haste, or 'twill be late ere I reach the^ ferry. Gri. Stay, my boat shall put you across the river. Hi. (who with Golotz watches them from the side,) He will escape us yet. Gri. Besides the evening looks stormy, come it will save your journey half a league. Ri. It will save his life ! Scene II,] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 11 Lot. Well,! accept your offer,and 1 thank you. Gri. Your hand. Lot. Farewell ! (he goes to the boat.} Ri> Curse on this chance ; we have lost him. Go. But a time may come (the boat goes off.) Hi. A time shall come! Gri. So I am rid of him; if he had metClau- dine ! but she is safe now then for Kelmar. [Exit to the cottage. SCENE II. The Forest distant Thunder KARL enters, dragging after htm a Portmanteau. Karl. Here's a pretty mess ! here a precious spot of work ! Pleasant upon my soul lost in a labyrinth without love or liquor the sun gone down, a storm got up,, and no getting out of this vile forest, turn which way one will. Fri. (without) Halloo, Karl ! Karl! Karl. Ah, you may call and bawl, master of mine; you'll not disturb any thing here but a wild boar or two, and a wolf, perhaps. Enter FRIBERG. Fri. Karl, where are you ? Karl. Where am I ! that's what I want to know this cursed wood has a thousand turn- ings, and not one that turns right. Fri. Careless coxcomb ; said you not you could remember the track ? Karl. So I should, Sir, if I could find the path but trees will grow, and since I was here last, the place has got so bushy and briey that that 1 have lost the way. 18 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [Act 1. Fri. You have lost your senses. Karl. No, Sir, I wish I had unfortunately, my senses are all in the highest state of per- fection. Fri. Why not use them to more effect ? Karl. I wish I'd the opportunity ; my poor sto- mach can testify that I taste Fri. What? Karl. Nothing, it's as empty as my head : hut 1 see danger, smell a tempest, hear the cry of wild beasts, and feel Fri. How ? Karl. Particularly unpleasant, (thunder.) Oh, tre are in for it ; do you hear, Sir ? Fri We must be near the river ; could we but reach the ferry, 'tis but a short league to the Cha- teau Friberg, Karl. Ah ! Sir ; I wish we were there, and I seated in the old arm chair in the servant's hall talking of Holloa ! Ffe. What now ? Karl. 1 felt a spot of rain on my nose as big as a bullet, (thunder) There, there it's coming on again seek some shelter, Sir ; some hollow tree, whilst I, for my sins, endeavour once more to find the way, and endure another curry-combing among these cursed brambles. Come, Sir, (storm increases) Lord, how it rumbles this way, Sir this way. S(eneIlL] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 13 SCENE III. A Room in the Cottage Door and Window, Fire on one side, Table, Chairs, fyc. Grindoff and Kelmar discovered. Kcl. 'Tis a rough night, miller, the thunder roars, and by the murmuring of the flood the mountain torrents have descended Poor Lo- thair, heMl scarcely have crossed the ferry. Gri. Lothair by this is safe at home, old friend; before the storm commenced I passed him in my boat across the river (aside.) He seems less anx- ious for his daughter than for this bold stripling. Kel. Worthy man., you'll be rewarded for all such deeds hereafter. Thank heaven, Claudine is safe ! Hark ! (Thunder heard) Gri. She is safe by this time, or I am much mistaken, (aside.) KeL She will be here anon. Gri. 1 doubt that (aside.) Come, here's to her health, old Kelmar ; would I could call you fa- ther ! Kel. You may do soon, but even your protec* tion would now, I fear, be insufficient to Gri. What mean you ? Insufficient! Kel. The robbers this evening in the forest Gri. Ha ! Kel. Did not Lothair then tell you ? Gri. Lothair ! Kel. Yes but all's well ; be not alarmed, see she is here. Gri. Here! (At this moment Claudine enters, and Grindoff' endeavours to suppress his surprize. Claudine ! Curse on them both ! Kel. Both ! how knew you there were two ? Gri. 'Sdeath you, you said robbers, did you not ? They never have appeared but singly, therefore I thought you meant two. 14 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. \Att L Kel. You are right ; but for Loth air they had deprived me of my child. Gri. How ! Did Lothair ? Humph ! he's a courageous youth. Cla. That he is ; but he's gentle too. What has happened ? Kel. Nothing, child ! nothing (aside to Gri.) do not speak on% 'twill terrify her. Come,, Clan- dine, now for supper. What have you brought us? Cla. Thanks to the miller's bounty plenty. Kel. The storm increases ! (a voice heard with" out, " Holloa, Holloa !") and hark ! I hear a voice; listen ! (voice without " Holloa.") Cla. The cry of some bewildered traveller. (The cry repeated^and a violent knock at the door.) Kel. Open the door. Gri. Not so ! it may be dangerous. Kel. Danger comes in silence and in secret ; my door was never shut against the wretched while I knew prosperity, nor shall it be closed now to my fellows in misfortune. Open the door I say. (The knock is repeated, and Claudine opens it.) KARL enters with a Portmanteau. jBTar.Why in the name of dark nights and tem- psts didn't you open the door at first; have you no charity ? Kel. In our hearts plenty in our gift but lit- tle yet all we have is yours. Kar.Then I'll share all you have with my mas- ter thapk you, old gentleman ; you wont fare the worse for sheltering honest Karl, and Count Frederick Friberg. Gri. Friberg ! I'll soon fetch him he's waiting now Scene III.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 15 looking as melancholy as a 'mourning coach in a snow storm, at the foot of a tree, wet as a drowned rat so stir up the fire, bless you ; clap on the kettle give us the best eatables and drinkables you have a clean table-cloth a cou- ple of warm beds and don't stand upon cere- mony ; we'll accept every civility and comfort you can bestow upon us without scruple. \ Throws down the portmanteau and exit. Gri. Friberg, did he say ? Cta. 'Tis the young Count so long expected. Kel. Can it be possible without attendants, and at such a time too ? Gri. ( Looking at the portmanteau, on which is the name in brass nails) It must be the satne Kelmar, good night. Kel. Nay, not yet, the storm rages. Gri. 1 fear it may increase your visitors may not like my company goodnight. \_As he goes, to the door Count Frederick enter s^ followed by Karl, and stopping suddenly eyes the Miller, as recollecting him. Grindoff appears to avoid his scrutiny.^ Fri. Your kindness is well timed, we might have perish'd accept my thanks. I should know that face, (aside.) Gri. To me your thanks are not due. Fri. That voice too ! Gri. This house is Kelmar 's. Fri. Kelmar's! Kel. Ay, my dear master, my fortunes have deserted me, but my attachment to your family still remains. Fri. Worthy old man how happens this; the richest tenant of my late father's land, the honest, the faithful Kelmar in a hovel ? Kel. It will chill your hearts to hear. JTar.Then don't tell us pray, for our bodies are crarnpt with cold already. 16 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. \_Att J. Kel. 'Tis a terrible tale. Jfifrtr.Then for the love of a^good appetite and a dry skin don't tell it, for I've been terrified enough in the forest to-night to last me niy life. Fre. Be silent,, Karl. [retires wiili Kelmar. Gri. In in the forest t Kar. Aye. Gri. What should alarm you there? -fiuzr.What should alarm me there ; come that's- a good one. Why first I lost my way ; trying to find that I lost the horses ; then I tumbled into a quagmire, and nearly lost my life,, Gri. Pshaw ! this is of no consequence. Kar. Isn't it ? I have endur'd more hardships since morning than a knight- errant. My head's; broke, my body's bruised, and my joints are dis- located. I haven't three square inches about me but what are scarified with briars and brambles ; and above all I have not tasted a morsel of food since sun- rise. Egad, instead of my making a meal of any thing, I've been in constant expectation of the wolves making a meal of me. Gri. Is this all ? Kar. All ! No it's not all, pretty well too I tbink when I recovered the path I met two polite gentlemen with long knives in their hands. Gri. Hey! ITar.And because I refused a kind invitation of tbeir's, they sported affronted, and were just on the point of ending all my troubles, when up came my master. GrL WelH Kar.Well yes, it was well indeed, for after a struggle they made off one of them left his sting behind though ; look, here's a poker to stirrup a man's courage with ! (Shelving a poniard. Gri. A poniard. Kar. Aye. Gri. Give it me. Scene ///.] THE MILLER AND HIS HEN. 1? Kar.For what? it's lawful spoil, did'nt I win it In battle ? No, I'll keep it as a trophy of my vic- tory. Gri. It wil 1 be safer in my possession, it may lead to a discovery of him who wore it and Kar. It may you are right therefore I'll de- liver it into the hands of Count Frederick ; he'll soon ferret the rascals out ; set a reward on their heads 5000 crowns dead or alive ! that's the way to manoeuvre 'em. Humph ! don't like that chap- never saw such a ferocious black muzzle in my life ---that miller's a rogue in grain* Gri. Humph I (retires.) Fre. Nay, nay, speak of it no more* I will not take an old man's bed to ease my youthful limbs; I have slept soundly on a ruder couchand that chair shall be my resting-place. Cla. The miller's man, Riber, perhaps can en- tertain his excellency better, he keeps the Flask here on the hill, Sir. Gri* His house contains but one bed, Kar. Only one ? Gri. And that is occupied. Kar. The devil it is ! Fre> It matters not ; I am contented here. /tar. That's more than I am* Gri. But stay,, perchance his guest has left it; if so 'tis at Count Frederick's service. I'll bring you word, (aside.) 1 may now prevent surprise- The storm has ceased ; I will return immediately. (Grindqff as he goes out throws down the sheath of a dagger.) Fri. Kelmar, tell me, who is that man t(eagerly) Kel The richest tenant, Sir, you have ; what Kelmar was when you departed from Boheofia, Grindoffnow is. ^ Fre. Grindoff!- I remember in my youth, a favoured" servant of my father '> who resembled 18 ^THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [Act J. him in countenance and voice, the recollection is strong upon my me,mory, but I hope deceives me, for he was a villain who betrayed his trust. , Kel. I have heard the circumstance, it happened just before I entered your good father's service- his name was Wolf. Fre. The same. Kar. And if this is not the same I suspect he is a very near relation. Kel. ( Angrily J Nay, Sir, you mistake Grind- off is my friend, come,, Claudine, is all ready ? JTar.Ohjit's a sore subjects it ?(Kelmar retires) Yojur friend is he, old gentleman ? Sir Sir - Fre. (Who has become thoughtful) Well ! what say you? Kar. I don't like our quarters, Sir; we are in a bad neighbourhood. Fre. I fear we are ; Kelmar's extreme poverty may have tempted him to 'league with yet his daughter. Kar. His daughter a decoy! nothing but a trap; don't believe her, Sir; we are betrayed, mur- dered if we stay here. I'll endure any thing, every thing, if you will but depart, Sir. Dark nights, bad roads,hail, rain, assassins, and hey ! what's this ? (sees and picks up the scabbard dropt by Grind- off* ) Oh, Lord, what's the matter with me ? my mind misgives me; ad here (he sheathes the dagger in it andjinds it Jit) fits to a hair we are in the lion's den ! Fre* 'Tis evident, we are snared, caught. Kar. O Lord ! don't say so. Fre. Kelmar ; I have bethought me ; at every peril, I must on to-night. Kel: To-night ! X/fo. Not to-night I beseech you, you know not half your danger. Kar. Danger ! \asidc) Cockatrice ! I'll thank you for that portmanteau. Scene IIL] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 19 Fre. Let it remain (to Karl} it may be an object to them, 'tis none to me, it will be safer here with honest Kelmar. KeL But why so sudden ? Kar. My master has recollected something that must be done to-night or to-morrow it may be out of his power. * Cla. Stay till the miller returns. Kar. Till he returns \ (aside) Ah, the fellow's gone to get assistance, and if he comes before we escape we shall be cut and hash'd to mince-meat. Fre. Away ! (as Fre. advances to the door Grind- off' enters suddenly.) Kar. It's all over with us. KeL Well, friend, what success ? Gri. Bad enough, the Count must remain here* Fre. Must remain ! Gri. There is no resource. Kar. I thought so. Gri. To-morrow Riber can dispose of you both. Kar. Dispose of us ! (aside) Ay, put us to bed with a spade that fellow's a grave-digger, Fre. Then I must cross the ford to-night. Gri. Impossible ; the torrent has swept the ferry barge from the shore and driven it down the stream. Kar. Perhaps your boat ? Gri. Mine ! 'twould be madness to resist the current now and in the dark too. Fre. What reward may tempt you ? Gri. Not all you are worth, Sir, until to-mor- row. Kar. To-morrow! Ah ! we are crow's meat to a certainty. Gri. (Looking askance round the room. ) All is right, they have got the scabbard, and their suspi- cions now must fall on Kelmar (aside.) [Exit Grindoff. Fre. Well, we must submit to circumstances SO THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [Act L (aside toKarl) Do not appear alarmed ; when all is still we may escape. Kar. Why not now ? there are only two of' em... Fre. There may be others near. Enter Kreuitz and Laiirett. KeL Corae, children, prepare supper. SESTETTE. Cla. Stay, prithee, stay the night is dark, The cold wind whistles Hark ! hark ! bark ! fred. We miast away, jtar. Pray come away, Cla. The night is dark, The celd wind whistles, All Hark ! hark ! hark ! Cla. Stay, prithee stay, the way is lone, The ford is deep the boat is gone. KeL And mountain torrents swell the flood, And robbers lurk within the wood. All. Here \ ? i must stay till morning bright Breaks through the dark and dismal night, And merry sings the rising lark, And hush'd the night bird ^Hark ! hark ! hark ! (Clautiine. tenderly detains Friberg, Kelmar the same with Karl and the group is enclosed by SCENE IV. Representing the depth of the Forest. Enter Lothair, whose dress and complexion are entirely changed, his habiliment* are wretched, fyc t Lot. This way, this in the moaning of the blast, at intervals, I heard the tread of feet and as the moon's light burst from the stormy clouds, I saw two figures glide like departed spirits to this deep glen Now heaven prosper me, for my attempt is desperate ! ah, they come ! \Music. Enter Riber Golotz follows ; they look round cau- tiously then advance to a particular rock which is nearly concealed by underwood and roots of trees, Lot. \\Q\A. \-~r(the rotters start and eye him with ferocious surprise) So my purpose is accom~ plish'd, at last I have discovered you* Scene F.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 21 Ri. Indeed ! it will cost you dear. Lot. It has already I have been hunted through the country but now nay life is safe. Ri. Safe Lot. Ay, is it not ? would you destroy a com- rade ? Look at me, search me, 1 am unarmed, de- fenceless ! Go. Why come you hither ? Lot. To join your brave band the terror of Bohemia. Ri. How knew you our retreat ? Lot, No matter in the service of Count Fri- berg 1 have been disgraced and fly from punishment to seek revenge. Go. (to Riber) How say you ? Lot. They hesitate (aside) The young Count is far from home- and his name I may use without danger Lead me to your chief. Ri. We will not so fast, your sight must be concealed, (offering to bind his forehead.) Lot. Ah ! (hesitates) May I trust you ? Go. Do you doubt ? Ri. Might we not dispatch you as you arc. Lot. Enough, (they conceal his sight) Bind me and lead on. (Music. Riber lets down a flat Stone in the Rock Gotot* leads Lothair to it they enter, and he is drawn up. SCENE V. A Cavern. Banditti grouped variously employed, chiefly carousing round a Table on ivhich are Flasks of Wine, fyc. fyc.'- in the back Ground, elevated, is seen a Recess ; on which is inscribed " Powder Magazine ;" Steps rudely cut in the Rock lead to it on the right, other Steps lead to an opening in the Cave. CHORUS BANDITTI. Fill, boys, and drink about, Wine will banish sorrow ; Come drain the goblet out, We'll have more to-morrow. 9& THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [.Act I. SLOW MOVEMENT. We live free from fear, In harmony here, Combin'd, just like brother and brother, And this be our toast, The free-booter's boast, Success, and good will to each other ! Chorus Fill, Boys, c. As they conclude^ enter RAVINA. Raw. What ! carousing yet, sotting yet ! Zin. How now, Ravina ; why so churlish ? jRav. To sleep, I sayor wait upon yourselves. I'll stay no longer from my couch to please you. Is it not enough that I toil from day-break but you must disturb me ever with your midnight re- velry ? Zin. You were not wont to be so savage, wo- man. 'Rav. You were not wont to be so insolent. Look you repent it not. 1st. Pshaw ! Heed her no more. Jealousy hath soured her. I forgive her railing. JRav. Forgive ! Zin. Ay, our leader seeks another mistress, and 'tis rather hard uponthee I confess after five years captivity, hard service too, and now that you are accustomed to our way of life, we pity thee. JRav. Pity me ! I am indeed an object of com- passion ; seven long years a captive, hopeless still of liberty, habit has almost made my heart cold as these rude rocks that screen me from the light of heaven Miserable lost Ravina by dire ne- cessity become an agent in their wickedness, yet pine for virtue and for freedom. Zin. Leave us to our wine; come, boys, fill all, fill full. Robbers. Ay, ay, a health ! a health ! Zin. To our captain's bride. Rolbtrs. " To our captain's bride !'* Scene F] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 13 (A single note on the bugle is heard from below. Zin. Hark ! 'tis from the lower cave, (note repeated) She cornes; Ravina, look you receive her as becomes the companion of our chief; re- member. Rav. I shall remember. So, another victim to hypocrisy and guilt. Poor wretch, she loves, per- haps, as I did, the miller Grindoff; but, as I do, may live to execrate the outlaw and the robber. ( The trap in the floor is thrown open, and Riber ascends, fol+ lowed by Golotz and Lothair. Robbers. Hail, to our new companion. Rav. A man ! (Lothair tears the bandage from his eyes as he arrives in the cave; the robbers start back on perceiving a man. Lot. Thanks for your welcome. Zin. Who have we here ? Speak ! Ri. A recruit ; where is the captain ? Zin. Where is the captain's bride ? Ri, Of her hereafter. (A bugle is heard above. ) Robbers. Wolf! Wolf! (Grindoff, in Robbers apparel Descends the opening^advances, and seeing Lothair , starts. Gri. A stranger ! Lot. Grindoff! (the Robbers lay hands on swords, fyc.) Gri. Ha ! betray'd I who has done this ? Ri. I brought him hither, to Gri. Riber; humph ! You have executed my orders well, have you net ? where is Claudine ? Lot. Ciaudine ! (aside) Villain, hypocrite. Gri. Know you Claudine, likewise ? Ri. She escaped us in the forest, some med- dling fool thwarted our intent, and Gri. Silence, I know it all ; a word with you presently: DOW, stranger, but 1 mistake; we *4 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. \AdL should be old acquaintance, my name is so fami- liar to you : what is your purpose here ? Lot. Revenge. Gri. On whom ? Lot. On one whose cruelty and oppression well deserve it. Gri. His name ? Lot. (Aside) Would I dare mention it ! JRi. He complains of Count Friberg. Gri. Indeeu ! then your purpose will be soon accomplished ; he arrived this night, and shelters at old Kelmar's cottage ; he shall never pass the river; should he once reach the Chateau Friberg, it would be fatal to our band. Lot. Arrived ! (aside) What have I done ! My fatal indiscretion has destroyed him, let him fall by my hand. Gri. It may tremble, it trembles now ! The firmest of our band haye failed (looking at Riber.) Henceforth the enterprize shall be my own. Lot. Let me accompany you. Gri. Not to-night. Lot. To-night! Gri. Ay, before the dawn appears, he dies Riber ! (Lothair clasps his Hands in agony; Rider advances. ) Rat). What, more blood! Must Friberg's life be added to the list ? Gri> It must ; our safety claims it. Rav. Short-sighted man ! will not his death doubly arouse the sluggish arm of justice? Is this your policy ? The whole country, hitherto kept in awe by dissension and selfish fear, will join ; reflect in time : beware their retribution ! Gri. When I need a woman's counsel, I'll seek it of the compassionate Ravina : Riber, I say. [ExitRcwina. Ri. I wait your orders. ficene P.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 25 Gri. Look you, execute them better than the last, look to't the count and his companion rest at Kelmar's ; it must be done within an hour : arm and attend me: at the same time,, I will se- cure Claudine ; and should Kelmar's vigilance interpose to mar us, he henceforth shall be an in- mate here. Lot. Oh, villain ! Gri. How mean you ? Lot. Friberg let me go with you. Gri. You are too eager, I will not trust thy inexperience: Trust you ! what surety have we for your faith ? Lot. My oath. Gri. Swear then never to desert the object, never to betray the cause for which you sought our band, Revenge on Lot. On him, who has deeply, basely injured me, I swear it. 6r/*/. (to Riber,) Quick, arm and attend me, ( Riber retires ) Are those sacks in the mill disposed of as I ordered ? 1st R. They are. Gri. Return with the flour to-morrow, and be careful that all assume the calmness of industry and content. With such appearance, suspicion itself is blind ; 'tis the safeguard of our band : come, some wine, your name ? Lot. Spiller. Gri. Fill me a goblet, and then to business, The Miller and his Men. Robbers. The Miller and his Men, ((rrindqff then puts on his Miller s frock, hat, fyc. Riber advances, armed with pistols in his helt,a dark lanthorn, #c. and they retire up the opening as the. Banditti si fig the Chorus. 2(5 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [Act 1, CHORUS. Now to the Forest we repair, Awhile like spirits wander there ; IB darkness we secure our prey, And vanish at the dawn of day. EN0 OF ACT I. : 19 [)TO ' . Sc*>te /.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 37 ACT II. SCENE I. The interior of Kelmars cottage as before. Frederick asleep in a Chair, reclining on a Table, beneath which 'and at the opposite Side near the Fire, Karl is seen likewitt asleep. Frederick's Stvord lies on the Table. The Flrt nearly extinguished. Enter CLAUDINE vvith a lamp. Claudine. Z \LL still all silent ; the Count and his com- panion are undisturbed ! What can it mean ? My father wanders from his bed., re&tless as myself. Alas, the infirmities of age and sorrow afflict him sorely. Night after night I throw myself upon a sleepless couch ready to fly to hi assistancej and hush hush ! KELMAR enters, CLAUDINE extinguishes the light, arid avoids him. Kel. They sleep sleep soundly ere they awake, I may return from my enquiry. If Grin- dofPs story was correct, I still may trust him still may the Count confide in him but his be- haviour last night, unusual and mysterious, hangs like a fearful dream Upon my mind his anxiety to leave the cottage, his agitation at the appear- ance of Count Friberg; but above all, his as- sertion that the ferry-barge was lost, disturbs me. My doubts shall soon be ended. At this lone hour I may pass the borders tin perceived, and the grey dawn that now glimmer* in the east will direct my path. TH E MILLER AND HIS MEN. {Act 1L [Looks about him as fearful of disturbing th e$kepe m s, Exit. CLAUDINE advances. Cla. Yes, it was my father. He appears un- usually agitated Ah J it may be sometimes he wanders on theriver'sbrink watching the brightorb .of day bursting from the dark trees,, and breathes a prayer, a blessing for his child; yet 'tis early, very early, yet it maybe oh father, my dear, dear father ! [Exit. Kar. Yaw ! (snoring] damn the rats ! Yaw ! what a noise they keep Hey, where am I ? Oh, in this infernal hovel ; the night-mare has rode me into a jelly ; then such horrible dreams, yaw ! 'and such a swarm of rats; damn the ra,ts,(lays his liand on his poniard) they'd better keep off, for 1 am hungry enough to eat one bew eu (shiver- ing) I wish it were morning. (A dark lanthorn borne by Riber has appeared at the window; at this moment Riber half enters the room, but suddenly retires, observing a light occasioned by Karl's stirring the fire with his dagger. This gives more light to the stage, Karl. What's that? (listens) Nothing but odd noises all night: wonder how my master can sleep for such a yaw ! aw ! (Lies down, Riber enters cautiously, holding forward the lan- thorn; Grindoff follows. Riber on seeing Frederick draws a poniard. As he raises his arm, Grindqff catches it and prevents the blow 3 Music appropriate* Gri. Not yet first to secure my prize Clau- dine These are safe. Kar. How the varmint swarm! Gri. Hush, he dreams. Ri. It shall be his last. Kar. Rats ! Scene L] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN". 29 Ri. What says he ? Kar. Rats ! they all come from the mill. Ri. Do they so ? Kar. Ay set traps for 'em, poison 'em. (Riuer again attempting to advance, is detained by Grindoff. Gri. Again so rash remember ! Kar. I shall never forget that fellow in the forest. Ri. Ha Do you mark ? Gri. Fear them not, be still till I return ; he is sound, none sleep so hard as those that babble in their dreams stir not, 1 charge you yet should Kelmar ayshould you hear a noise without, instantly dispatch. [Exit Grindojf. Ri. Enough ! [At this time Karl again awakes, and observes Riber ; he grasps Ms dagger, and matching the motion of the liobbtr acts accordingly This delay is madness, but I must obey. (he looks at the priming of his pistol then towards the table Karl drops to his position. Hey, a sword ! (he advances and removes it from the table* Now all is safe Hark ! (A noise without, as of something fa /ling) 'Tis time if this should fail my poniard will secure him. ( liiber advances hastily, and in the act of bringing his pistol to the level against Frederick, is stabbed by Karl, teho has arisen and retreated behind the table to receive him ; at the 'same infant Grindoff enters, and Frederick rush? ing from the chair at the noise of the pisfol, seizes him by the collar, and Group stand amazed. Music. Fre. Speak, what means this ? Kar. They've caught a Tartar, Sir that's all Hey! the Miller ! [advancing. Gri. Ay! Fre. How came you here? 30 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN, \_Act 11. Gri. To to do you service. Fre. At such an tour ! Gri. 'Tis never too late to do good Fre. G^ood i Gri. Yes you bave been in danger. Kar. Have we ? Thank you for your Gri. You have been watched by the banditti. Fre. So it appears. Kar. But how did you know it ? Gri. (Confused) There. is iny proof (pointing to the body of .Riber.} Kar. But how the plague got you into the house thro* a rat-hole ? Fre. Explain ? Gri. Few words will do that: On my return tp the mill I found you might repose there better than in this house ; at all events, 1 knew you .would be safer in my care. Fre. Safer ! Proceed what mean you .? Kar. Safer ! ( aside. ) Gri. Ke'lmar ! Fre. Hah ! Gri. Had you no suspicion of him no mis- trust of his wish toto detain you ? Fre. 1 confess, I Gri. (to Karl) the poniard you obtained i the forest, that you refused to give me. Kar. This ! Gri. - -is Kelmar's. Fre. Wretch ! Kar* I thought so; I found the sheath here, Gri. I knew it instantly my suspicious were arousednow they are confirm'd ; Kelmar is in league with these marauders I found the door open, you still slept. I searched the house for him, he is no where to be found, he and his daughter have absconded are you satisfied ? Fre. I am. Kar. 1 am riot ; I wish we were safe at home. Scene I/.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 31 I'm no coward by day-light, but I hate adven- tures of this kind in the dark. Grf. Follow me you cannot mistake, see 'tis day-break at the cottage close to the narrow bridge that passes the ravine you will fiad re- pose. Fre. We'll follow you. Kar. Lord! how a man niay be deceived? I took you for a gtfeat rogue now, but I find you are a good Christian, tho' you are a very ill look* ing man. Gri. We can't all be as handsome as you [ Exit Grindoff. Kar. No, nor as witty as you. ---I don't half like that fellow yet (gets the portmanteau.) Now the sooner we are off the better, Sir. As for this fellow, the rats may take care of him. (A shriek heard ivithout, Frederick, draws his sword and rusftes out. Fre. Karl -follow me ! Kar. What, more adventures ! I'm ready. I say, (to.the body of Riber) take care of the port- manteau, will y,ou ? SCENE II. The Forest. Grindoff enters with Claudine in his arms, and is sten concealing her and himself in the- Secret Rock; he lets 32 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. \Acl It down the flat stone and disappears as Frederick in haste enters. Fre. Gone! vanish'd ! Can it be possible? Sure 'tis witchcraft. I was close upon him- Karl ! The cries of her he dragg'd with him too have ceased, and not the faintest echo of his retiring footstep can be heard Karl ! Enter KARL. Kar. O Lord pho ! that hill's a breather, why where is be ? didn't you overtake him ? Fre. No, in this spot he disappeared and sunk as it should seem., ghost-like into the very earth Follow ! Kar. Follow ! follow a Will-o'-the-wisp ! Fre. Quick. aid me to search. Kar. Search out a ghost ; mere}' on us not I. Fre. He must be near. Kar. So much the worse, I hate spirits and bugaboos, and all their kin- can't abide 'em. Fre, Ridiculous. Kar. So 1 think I'll follow you thro* the world fight for you the best cock giant rob- ber of 'em all but if you are for hunting gob- blins I'm off Hey, where the devil's the woman tho' ? If she was a spirit, she made more noise than any lady alive. Fre. Perchance the villain so closely pursued has destroyed his victim. Kar. No doubt on't ; he's kill'd her to a cer- tainty ; nothing but death can stop a woman's tongue. Fre. (Having searched in vain) From the miller we may gain assistance ; Grindoff no Scene ///.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 33 doubt is acquainted with every turn and outlet of the forest ;- quick, attend me to the mill. [Exeunt. SCENE III: The Cavern. Music. Robbers discovered asleep in different parts of the stage. Lothair as on guard, with a Carbine, stands be- neath the Magazine* Lot. Ere this it must be day-light yet Grin- doff returns not perchance their foul intent has fail'd the fatal blow design 'd for Friberg may have fallen upon himself. How tedious drags the time when fear, suspense, and doubt thus weigh upon the heart ! Oh, Kelrpar, beloved .Claudine, you little know my peril (looks at the various groupes of Banditti, and carefully rests his car- bine at the foot of the rugged steps leading to the Magazine) While yet this drunken stupor makes their sleep most death-like let me secure a ter- rible but just revenge. If their infernal purpose be accompiish'd, this is their reward (draws a coil of fuze from his bosom) These caverns that spread beneath the mill, have various outlets, and in the fissures of the rock the train will lie unnoticed. Could I but reach the magazine! Music. Lothair retires cautiously as he places bis foot over the body of a Robber, who is seen asleep on the steps lead- ing to the Magazine ; by accident he touches the carbine which slips down ; the Robber being disturbed alters^ hi s position while Lothair stands over him-~but again re- F 34 TH E MILLER AND HIS MEN. \_Act 1L posesrLothair advances up the steps. As he arrives at the - magazine. Wolf's signal h heard from above, the Robbers instantly start up, and Lothair at the same moment springs from the steps, and seizing his carbine stands in jiis previous attitude ; immediately Wolf is seen descending the opening OH the right with Claudine senseless in his arms. Robbers. The signal ! Go. Wolf ! We rejoice with you. Lot. Have you been successful ? Gri. (Having set down Claudine) So far, I have. Lot. Claudine merciful powers! (aside) But Gri, Shall not lpng escape me Kelmar once secure,, his favourite, niy redoubted rival, young Lothair, may next require attention. Where is Jlavina ? Oh, you are come. Enter RAVINA, J?. 1 am ; what is your will ? Gri. That you attend Claudine treat her as you would treat me. Ra. I will, be sure on't. Gri. Look you, fail not. Lead her in (Ravinq Assisted leads off Claudine.) I cannot wait her re- covery, danger surrounds us. Robbers. Danger ! Gri. Ay, every eye must be vigilant, every jbeart resolved Riber has been stabbed. Lot. Then Friberg - Gri. Has escaped. Lot. Thank heaven! [Re-enter Ravina, Gri. How? Lot. Friberg is still reserved forme. Gri, Be it so your firmness shall be proved. tictne //.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN"'. W Ra. So one act of villany is spared you ; piir- ue your fate no farther Desist, be warned in time. Grl. Fool! Could woman's weakness urge me to retreat, my duty to our band would now make such repentance treachery. Robbers. Noble captain ! Gri. Mark you,, my comrades, Kelmar has fled; left his house no doubt for the Chateau Friberg. The suspicions of the Count are upon him. All mistrust of me is banished from his mind, and I have lured him and his companion to the cottage of our lost comrade Riber. Lot. How came Claudine to fall into your power ? Gri. I encountered her alone as I left Kelmar's ciottage. She had been to seek her father; I seized the opportunity, and conveyed her to the secre pass in the forest; her cries caused me to be pur- sued., and one instant later I had fallen into their hands by this time they have recovered the path-way to the mill, Spiller shall supply Riber's place be prepared to meet them at the Flask, and prove yourself Lot. The man I am; I swear it. Gri. Enough, I am content. Ra* Content ! Such guilt as thine can never feel content. Never will thy corroded heart have rest^-Years of security have made you rash, in- cautious wanton in thy cruelty and you will never rest until your mistaken policy destroys your band. Gri. No more of this Her discontent i$ dan- gerous Spiller ! when you are prepared to leave the cavern, make fast the door ; Ravina shall remain here confined until our work above if finished. Lot. I understand 36 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [Ad II. Gri. Gplotz and the rest who are wont to cheer our revels with your music, he in waiting 3t the Flask, as travellers, wandering Savoyards \ till the Count and his follower are safe within our toils ; the delusion may spare us trouble. I know them resolute and fierce and should they once suspect, tho' our numbers overpower them, the purchase may cost us dear away time presses. Spiiler remember !-- [Exit Gri. and Robbers. Lot. Fear me not you soon shall know me. (As Wolf, fyc. go off, Lothair immediately rum up the steps to the Magazine, and places the fuze within, closes the door, and directs it towards the trap by which he first entered the cave; Ha. Now then hold firm my heart and hand ; one act of vengeance, one dreadful triumph, and I meet henceforth the hatred, the contempt of Wolf, without a sigh. Accustomed here to scenes of death, deeds tL at . once had made me shrink with horror, degenerate nature now consents to act- (in great agitation ) (She advances to the table, and taking a phial from her bosom pours it into a cup some liquor on it -and goes cautiously across the stage to where Claudine has been con- ducted. Ra. As she revives ere yet her bewildered senses proclaim her situation, she will drink and ( Lothair who has watched the conduct of Ravina, ai this moment seizes the cup and casts it away. Lot. Hold, mistaken woman; is this your pity for the unfortunate of your own sex too ? Are you the advocate of justice and of mercy who dare condemn the cruelty of Wolf yet with your own hand would destroy an innocent fel- .-] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 37 low creaturebroken-hearted., helpless and for- lorn ? Oh shame ! shame ! Ra. And who is he that dares to school me thus? Lot. Who am I ! Ra. Ay ! that talk of justice and of mercy, yet pant to shed the blood of Friberg ! Lob. (aside) Now, dared I trust her- I must, there is no resource, for they'll be left together. Ravina say, what motive urged you to attempt an act that I must believe is hateful to your na- ture ? Ra. Have I not cause ample cause ? Lot. I may remove it. Ra. Can you remove the pangs of jealousy ? Lot. I can Claudine will never be the bride ofWolf. Ra. Who can prevent it ? Lot. Pier husband. Ra. Is it possible. Lot. Be convinced Claudine, Claudine ! Cta.(EnteringyTis he, 'tis he, then I am safe. Ah! who are these, and in what dreadful place am I ? Lot. Beloved Claudine, can this disguise con. ceal me ? Cla. Lothair I was not deceived, (falls into his arms.) Ra. Lothair ! Lot. Ay, her affianced husband - Ravina, our lives are in your power ; preserve them and save yourself; one act of glorious repentance, and the blessings of the surrounding country are yours. Observe ! (Music. Lothair points to the Magazine ; shews the train to Ravina, and explains his intention ; then gives a phosphfl* rns hot tit which he shews the purpose of; she comprehend* him- Claudine s action, astonishment and terror. Lo- their opens the trap.) 38 f HE MILLER AND HIS MEN. \_Ad //. Be careful, be cautious,,! implore you ; convey the train where I may distinctly see you from without the mill ; and above all, let no anxiety of mind, no 'fear of failure, urge you to fire the train, till I give the signal. Remember, Clau- dine might be the victim of such fatal indiscre- tion. Ra. But, Wolf, (At this moment Wolf returns, and hearing his name halts at the back of the scene* Lot. Wolf with his guilty companions shall fall despised and execrated Ah ! remove the train. [aside. /Fb/f. 'Villain! (Levels a pistol at Lothair, Ravina niters an exclamation of horror Claudine retreats, and removes the train to the foot of the steps. Lot. Hold ! you are deceived. Wolf. Do you acknowledge it ? but 'tis the last time. Lot. One moment. Wolf. What further deception ? Let. I have used none hear the facts. Wolf. What are they ? Lot. Hatred to thee jealousy of the fair Clau-* dine urged this woman to attempt her life, (points to Claudine.) Wolf. Indeed ! for what purpose was that pass disclosed ? (pointing to the trap.) Lot. I dared not leave them together. Wolf. Vain subterfuge your threat of de,- struction on me and my companions Lot . Was a mere trick, a forgery, a fabrication to appease her disappointed spirit induce her to quit the cave, and leave Claudine in safety. Wolf. Plausible hypocrite Ravina has no- weapon of destruction how theu ? Scene IK] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 39 Lot. Ah ! We are saved (aside) Behold, let conviction satisfy jour utmost doubts. (He snatches the phial which Ravina has retained in her hand. Wolf. (Looking on the label) Poison ! you then are honest Wolf unjust I can doubt no longer. Fiend ! descend instantly, in darkness and despair anticipate a dreadful punishment [Music* ( Ravina clasps her hands in entreaty > and descends the trap, which is closed violently by Wolf. Wolf. Now, Spiller, follow me. [Wolf takes his broad Miller's hat which had caused hi* return, and Exit. Lothair following, and looking back significantly at Claudine, who then advances, cautiously opens the trap, gives the train to Ravina and Exit, to the side to where she was first conducted* Music appropriate during this. SCENE IV. The Cottage of RJBER. The Sign of the Flask. Enter FREDERICK. Fre. How long must these perplexing; strange events keep me from my home, my friends, my wife ? Wearied with the toils of war, on the wings of expectation I flew to the enjoyment of repose and peace ! Well, a few short hours, and patience-^- Enter KARL. Fre. This must be the house ! 40 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. \_Act II. Kar. Clear as day-light ; look, Sir, the " Flask ! " oh, and there stands the mill ! 1 sup- pose old rough and tough, Master Grindoff, will be here presently. Well, I'm glad we are in the right road at last; for such ins arid outs, and ups and downs, and circutnbendibusses in that forest I never Fre. True ; we may now obtain guides and assistance to pursue that ruffian I Kar. Pursue again ! not to save all the she sex ! Flesh and blood can't stand this, (aside.) Pre. (Abstracted) Yet after so long an ab- sence delay is doubly irksome could I but see lier my heart doats on ! Kar. Ah ! could I but see what my heart doats on a plate of alamode beef. Fre. My sweet Lauretta Kar. A dish of sour crout. Fre. Fool ! Kar. Fool ! so 1 musn't enjoy a good dinner even in imagination. Eating and drinking seems to be high treason now-a-days. Fre. Still complaining ! Kar. How can I help it, Sir ? I can't live upon air as you do. Fre. You had plenty last night !. Kar. So I had last Christmas,, Sir; and what sort of a supper was it after all? One apple, two pears, three bunches of sour grapes, and a bowl of milk : one of your forest meals I can't abide such a cruel cold diet Oh for a bumper of bran- dy ! but unfortunately my digestion keeps pace with my appetite Tin always hungry. (Music heard within the Flask. Fre. Hush ! Kar. What's that? somebody tickling a harp into fits ? Soft music always makes me doleful as a duck in dry weather. Scene IP.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 41 1 Fre. Go into the house stay ; remember I would be private. Kar. Private in a public house. Oh, I un^der- stand, incog ; but the miller knows you, Sir, Fre. That's no reason all his people should. Kar. I smoke they'd be awed by onr dignity and importance poor things, I pity 'em -they are not used to polish'd society Holloa ! house ! landlord ! Mr. Flask. Enter LOTH AIR. Good entertainment here for man and beast, I'm told. Lot. You are right. Kar. Well ! here's master and I ! Lot. You are welcome, I dare not say other- wise; Wolf is on the watch (aside) (Wolf has ap- peared at a -window*) Kar. Have you got any thing ready ? (smack- ing his lips.) Lot. Too much I fear. Kar. Not a bit, I'll warrant. I'm devilish sharp set. Lot. Well, you are just in pudding-time. Kar. Pudding ! have you got no meat ? Lot. I must ask him (aside, and looking round anxiously) won't your master--- Kar. No ! he lives upon love ; but don't be alarm'd, I'll make it worth your while; I'm six meals in arrear, and can swallow enough for both of us. {Exit Karl with Lothair to the Flask; Wolf, who has watched, closes tfa window. Fre. Yes, I'm resolved the necessity for pass- ing the river must by this time have urged the peasantry to re-establish the ferry delay is need- less. I'll away instantly to the Chateau Friberg, and with my own people return to redress the wrongs of my oppressed and suffering tenantry well, your uew ? (Enter Karl.) G 42 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [Act II. Enter ILvRL. Kar. Glorious ! The landlord, Mr. Flask, is a man after my own heart, a fellow of five meals a day.* FTC. Pshaw ! who are the musicians ? Kar. Ill-looking dogs, truly ; Savoyards, I take it; one plays on a thing like a frying-pan, the other turns something that sounds like a young grindstone. Fre. What else ? Kar. As fine an imitation of a shoulder of mutton as ever I elapt my eyes on. Enter KELMAR, exhausted by haste and fatigue. Fre. Kelmar ! KeL Ah ! the Count and his companion, thank heaven I am arrived in time; my master will he saved, tho j Claudine, my poor unhappy child, is lost. Kar. Lost, is she ? No great catch for him that finds her. Kel. Fly, I beseech you fly from this spot * do not question me ; this is no time for explana- tionsone moment longer, and you are betrayed - your lives irrecoverably sacrificed. Fre. Would you again deceive us ? KeL I have been myself deceived ; fatally de- ceived ! let an old man's prayers prevail with you ; leave, oh, leave this accursed place . Enter GBINDOFF. Ah ! the miller ! then has hope forsaken me yet one ray ^one effort more, and Gri. Thy treachery is known. (He seizes Kel' war by the collar.) Kel. One successful effort more, and death is welcome. Sane TV] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 431 Gri. Villain ! Kel. Thou art the villainsee- behold ! (With a violent effort of strength, the old man suddenly turns upon the Mi/ler, and tears open his vest, beneath which he appears armed. Grindojf, at the same instant, dashes Kelmar from him, who impelled forward is caught by Frederick. Frederick draws his sword, Wolf draws pis- tols in each hand from side-pockets, his hat falling off a the same instant. Appropriate music* Fre. 'Tis he ! the same; 'tis Wolf! Gri. Spiller ! Golotz ! (rushes out.) Kar. Is it Wolf ? Damn his pistols ; this shal reach him- (Throws down the poniard and catching Frederick's sword, hastens after Wolf. The report of a pistol is immediately heard. Fre. Cheerly, old heart ; how fares it ? Kel. Well ! very well ! but stay not here- away,, away I have brought assistance your people are at hand. (Exit Fred, and Kelmar. At the same moment Golotz, /b/- lowed by Lothair, bursts from the house. Go. We are call'd, Wolf call'd us ; Bh ! they have discovered him. Lot. 'Tis too late to follow him, he has reach'd the bridge. Go. Then he is safe; but see, at the foot of the hill, arm'd men, in the Friberg uniform, press forward to the Mill. Lot. This way, we must meet them then ; in, in to the subterranean pass. (Exit Golotz.) Now, Claudine, thy sufferings shall cease, and thy fa- ther's wrongs shall be revenged. 44 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. [_Act II SCENE THE LAST Disctfcers a near view of the Mill standing on an elevated projection, from the foreground a nar- row bridge passes to the rocky Promontory across the Ravine, Music.* Ravina appears ascending the gully with the fuze, which she places carefully in the crannies of the rock. Ra. My toil is over the train is safe. From this spot I may receive the signal from Lothair ; and at one blow, the hapless victims of captivity and insult are amply, dreadfully avenged. Ah ! Wolf! (she retires. ) Grindoff enters as pursued, and turning, fires his remaining pistol; then hurries across the bridge, which he instantly turns in the man- tier of a canal- bridge ; Karl, following. Gri. ( With a shout of great exultation) Ha ! ha ! you strive in vain ! Karl. Cowardly rascal ! you'll be caught at last. Gri. By whom ? Karl. Your only friend, Beelzebub : run as fast as you will, he'll trip up your heels at last. Gri. Fool-hardy slave ; I have sworn never to descend from this spot alive, unless with li- berty. Karl. Oh, we'll accqmmodate you ; you shall have liberty to ascend from it ; the wings of your own mill shall be the gallows, and fly with every rascal of you into the other world. Gri. Golotz ! Golotz, I say ! (calling to- wards the mill.) Scene V.] THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. 45 Enter FREDERICK, with KELMAR, and the attendants from the Chateau Friberg, armed with sabres, in uniform. Fre. Wretch ! your escape is now impossible. Surrender to the injured laws of jour country. Gri. Never. The brave band that now await my commands within the mill double your ~ % fi i j number.' Golotz ! LOTHAIR, in the cloak of Golotz, enters from a small door in the Mill, concealing his face as much as possible without its appearing inten- tional. Gri. Quick !et my bride appear. Lothair ; at the same instant, Ravina enters in front ; Grindojf starts. Ra. She is here ! what would you ? Gri. Ravina traitress ! Ra. Traitress ! What then art thou ? fiut I come not here to parley ; ere it be too late, make one atonement for thy injuries restore this old man's child. Kel. Does she still live ? Gri. She does ; but not for tliee, or for the youth Lothair. Ra. Then do I know my course obdurate man, thy career of infamy and guilt is over. Enter LOTHAII?, conducting CLAUDINE from the Mill ; his cloak still concealing him. Cla. Oh, my dear father ! Kel, My child ! Claudine oh ! spare, in pity spare her. Gri. Now, mark ; unless you instantly with- draw your followers, and let my troop pass free, by my hand she dies ! Kel. Oh, mercy I 45 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. \Act tL Fre. Hold yet a moment ! Gri. Withdraw your followers. Fre. 'Till thou art yielded up to justice,, they never shall depart: Gri. For that threat, be this your recom- pence ! Lot. And this ray triumph ! (music.) [Lothair throws aside the cloak, and his natural complexion is seen ; he throws himself before Claudine, and receives Grindofs attack ; the robber is wounded, and staggers back, sounds his bugle> and the Mill is crowded with banditti. Lot hair, having caught Claudine in his arms, (and previously thrown back the bridge upon his release from Grindoff,) hurries across it, and as he is on it, cries, " Now, Ravina, now, fire the train !" Ramna instantly sets Jire to the fuze, the flash of which is seen to run down the side of the rock into the gully under the bridge from which she has ascended, and the explosion immediately takes place. Kelmar rushing forward, catches Claudine in his arms, and the whole form a group as the curtain de- scends. THE END, W. Flint, Printer, Old Bailey, Lpndon. ADVERTISEMENT. To the Proprietors, for the splendid liberality bestowed on this Melo-Drame ; to Mr. Farley, for his masterly arrangement of the action ; and to the Performers, for their exertions in the repre- sentation, my best thanks are due:- 1 therefore request them, collectively, and individually, to accept my sincere acknowledgments. The talents of the Painter, and of the Machinist, are so con* spicuous in the structure of this after-piece, that I should deprive myself of a gratification, and commit an act of injustice, not to mention, with sentiments of obligation, the names of Messrs. Grieve, and Saul. J.P. London, November 5th 9 1613. L Ml FOR ENGLAND, HO!" A MELO-DRAMATtC OPERA. IN TWO ACTS. AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL COVENT- GARDEN. V BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. AUTHOR OF THE MILLER AND HIS MEN, HIT OR MISS, LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHN MILLER, 25, BOW-STREET ; SOLD ALSO BY J. BARKER, GRKAT RUSSELL-STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1814. [Price Two Shillings.} C:M'M.n fj f iirt'i n "!OH TAJ cl o .i oar rain^rnoas ol ,4 ^^::vt^^^-'." iofjbnoo. ba,8 Ju3ifi3gnfhf*> ^rft p^noiod sofflo iaoS 936^8 or 1 1 ft i '? u o ri ool f 13013 . ?.id ol ^n; ,8i d WHO ynoifh, isii: pdlwA 197i*fvi) IW <58S:) 'rWn/lDO lo^W^'^tl 1 ' > ': 1 London: Printed by 0. M'Millan, > Dow Street, <- event C.arden. J It*" ADVERTISEMENT, THE talents of the Actors, in the repre- sentation of this Piece, secured to it the ap- probation of the Public; and never were the thanks of an Author offered with more since- rity than mine are now, for their united exer- tions. To enumerate individual Performers, where all so amply gratified my hopes, would he in- vidious; but I must be allowed to express my peculiar obligations to Mr, Farley, to whose office belongs the arrangement and conduct of the Stage Business; and although his well-known abilities in this department will receive small honour in the addition of mv . L praise, yet to his experienced skill, and un- M'earied attentions during Rehearsals, the Author of a Melo-drama chiefly owes his success with the audience, and it should never pass without receiving the debt of acknow- ledgment. I. P 16th December, 1813. * DRAMATIS PERSONS The Commandant^ ......... * ..... .. Mr. HAMERTON. Sir Francis Paddle, ....... ........ Mr. JONES. Captain Laurel, ..................... * Mr. INCLEDON* Enrico AUieri, .................. ...... Mr. SINCLAIR. Guillaume) .................... . ........ Mr* FARLEY. Jaques, ....................... * ............ Mr. SLADER. Jerome, .* ......... ,..... ................ . Mr. SIMMONS. Michael, .................. *..... ..... ../.. Masler WILLIAMS. Tom Tough, .........*..,....... ..... .. Mr. EMERY. $*& Block, * ................ * ............ . ....... . Mr. IliGMAif. Officer of Police, .. .................. Mr, II o wief^.^ $ v ^ : Rattling .................................... Mr. DURUSETT. Shroud, . ........ ^.frf..^^.. Mr. TINNEY. Stern, ....:..............,..:...;:.. ^ rti Mr. NOIIRIS. f'jrtbno") b(it> ji' 1 ^ WOMEN, fl ? o Miss Eleanor Arundel, . ......... Mrs. JWiss Eliza Arundel, .............. Miss COOKED . Lisette, ................ . ..................... Mrs. II. JOHNSTON. -. V V * ^ $*(&>&%& rdW-' T 'I^A Officers of Police, Soldiers, Seamen, Peasants, 8?c. The SCENE lies iii and near the Port of Dieppe,' ia TVT 1 Normandy. lo 3< ui^-tld JA Al The Lines marked with inverted Commas* are omrttied in Represerrtation. 4 . "1 ty r: ?HFWW! { A8 ; J "FOR ENGLAND, HO!" > tyW , >, .' * .o?: SCENE f ^. ", Interior of a Cottage, the Residence ofGvn,* UMe'i- Family JEROME and MICHAEL disco- vered LISETTE descends the Stairs. (Music). :t*a. fafc TRIO JEROME, LISETTE, MICHAEL. 1 tm& Jfcr. List! Xw. I Jst f ^Wit/i. List ! Jier. awc^ Afy. List if he be near. Mich. Nol 1 No footstep do 1 hear. Lis. No ! > No footstep dots he hear. Jcr. No! 3 No footstep does he hear. ^Mv'sJL Lis. Why does he linger, why does he stay ? The night flies fast, and the morning crey r* t , , Now 'gins to peep : he comes not home. Where can be wander, where can he roam ! '] 3? -jt!X List! List! List! &c. Mich. Midnight the convent bell hath tolfd j The morning air is chill, is cold : Soon will the swallow leave her nest; But still IK* comes not home to rest ! ListJ Liat! List! fcc.' 2 FOR ENGLAND, HO!" Lis. Still he comes not ! where can he stay? Jer. Don't vex, don't vex Lisette he will be here anon. Lis. Anon! why, father, you have told me so these two hours : I have no patience \ Jer. Well, I said you had no patience, didn't I ? Lis. Then I say I have patience : haven't I waited two hours past the time ? Jer. Well, well, you have patience then you have patience* Bless my soul ! 'tis the way with all these women if they can't contradict any one else they'll contradict themselves, rather than lose the pleasure on't Mich. I dare say Guillaume will not come home to night. Lis. Very pretty, indeed not come home to- night ! Why not come. home ? Hostilities have ceased : the prisoners are exchanged then what detains him ? Jer. Why, the sick, that remain. Ah ! 'tis a happy time when war ceases, and peace again reigns throughout the world. I little thought to see the day but the year 1783 brings peace and comfort to us all. Mich. It will.be his guard again soon. Jer. Hold thy tongue, boy hold thy tongue you'll make her jealous if you talk at this rate. Lis. Jealous! make me jealous ! Jer. Ay, don't think of him, Lisette: Lord bless you, my dame was just such another as yourself so fond of me, that she half killed me with kindness ; but now she's gone I never think of her, and I'm as cheerful and happy as the day is long. Lis. Indeed i^sftfcr**? Jer. Yes, indeed bt ceme, boy, we'll pass away the time with a-- fir4t^tjj: kills. me. A fisr&i Ah, rny old Dad;! not at rest yet. . V> Jer. No, nor your wife either; she's not at rest I never saw luer in such a pucker befor^. Guil. Anxious for my return, I warrant. Qh! if every man knew the pleasure of returning after a hard day's duty, to such a wife as mine, old maids and musty batchelors would soon be extinct ; and we should have , nothing but rnerry marringes, births, kissing and Christening, from irtQriung till nighf, j, / Jer. Ha, ha! thou art a merry fog.t\e, iTaith-r-r ba, ha, Lisette I what ails the child ! Lis. I can't hojdmuch longer (aside), .qqii; Guil. Talk of a single lifePho ! give me a double one, for it makes a man twice as-hajjfty. Lis. O my dear Guillaume ! r (Turns suddenly and embraces him.J Jer. Ha ! there, there ! that's exactly the way my old wife worried me. .//w. .Well, did you give the basket of provi- sions to the poor captives ? Guil. I did; and received ien times its value, in the thanks of the unfortunate. J was. once a prisoner myself, you know, on the English coast, heart-broke, unknown, and deserted by all but tliee, Lisette: . Ah, X remetT)})er rJie foljp\^you ttirq? '^ ;'; ' FOR ENGLAND, HO!" 5 every danger, and left me at home heigho ! will* nobody but my old dame. AGiiil. Some English ladies witnessed my cnp- jtivity one amongst them, struck with the ap- peanmce of my poor Li-set te, who at the prison - gate day after day awaited my release, heard her sad story, and, like a pitying angel, flew to our assistance. Jer. Bless her kind heart! I know, 'twas Miss Eliza Arundel. Guil. The same, I was lingering in confine, - ment hopeless helpless-r she recalled me from sickness and despair, and gave at once new life, liberty, and love !* Never shall I forget while kneeling at her feet in gratitude, how sweetly she exclaimed-r-" Ah, Guillaume, should you in your native land, meet a countryman of mine, Hke thee bereft of freedom, do not forget theEng- Jish prison, nor Eliza Arundel. " Lis. But her kindness ended not here -.when- ever she resides in France, on the estate her father left her, she is still our protection arid support. J( j r. Heaven bless her, say I, with a good Jiusband and a large family. Guil. Her countrymen I can only relieve but her lover-* Jcr. Her lover ! what ! the young Altieri ? Guil. When, in a moment of intemperance, he rais'd his arm against his detested rival, the Baron Holstein, who, mark me, was hfs senior officer, Enrico Altieri was, by a prejudiced court- martial, sentenced to punishment, and commit- ted to my custody. The happiness of Eliza Arundel depended on .his safety, and I released hiro. Us. You, Guillaume ! "Was it by ytfor means J)e gain'd his freedom ? FOR ENGLAND, HO !" Guil. It was ; and I gloried in the opportunity of proving to our benefactress, that Gnillaume had not forgotten the English prison. As yet, all attempts co discover his retreat have fail'd, although the Commandant, who is the late Hoi- stein's bosom friend, has been active in pursuing him. But come talking makes a man hungry Jer. And listening to long stories makes me thirsty, so get a pitcher of wine, boy you'll fare the worse at home, Guillaume, for your charity abroad tho'. Guil. The better, Dad, the better tho' my stomach will be empty, my heart will be full ; and if I haven't so much food, I shall have more hap- piness, depend on't. Lis. fndeed, you'll have but a scanty meal, love. I could only get some bread arid cheese, and some butter and some eggs to be sure, there is some wine but that's all, except a plate of fruit, and a nice salad that I gather'd from our little garden. Guil. And that will be a banquet, at least I shall think it so prepared by Lisette's hands, and sweeten'd by Lisette's smiles. I'll just put off this harness, and be with you again in au instant oh, bless you ! [Kisses her, and exit. Jer. Pho ! Nonsense, nonsense ! Dear me, what a troublesome thing is an affectionate wife. Lis. Good-natur'd, warm-hearted fellow ! I wonder what made him stay so late, tho' he didn't mention no matter, a curtain-lecture for that. Jer. Corne, boy, fill some wine. (He sits.) Lis. Hadn't you better fasten the door, father ? Jer. Let Michael do it I'm so exhausted, that I'd not move from my seat if Saint Dennis himself was to knock at the door. "FOR ENGLAND, HOI" 7 (At this instant a loud knock JEROME starts forward in terror). Mercy on us ! what's that look through the window, Michael. Mich. Somebody in black, father. Jer. In black ! oh, bless us ! who can it be ? Lis. Ha, ha ! you were the boldest man in the province well said, father 'tis only a mes- senger froia the Commandant (knock) open the door. [MICHAEL opens the door, and ALTIERI enters a large black cloak wrapped about him, with steel clasps a belt round it a broad hat and feather). Alt. Friends, your pardon attracted by the light from your window, a poor but honest man entreats protection, Jer. (uneasy). An an honest man ! Alt. I must soon depart give me but rest and shelter you shall not go unrewarded. Lis. We seek no recompense for hospitality, Sir, and should my husband j&(. Your husband ! who is your husband ? Lis. A soldier, Sir. Jer. Ay, he attends the prison. Alt. Confusion ! I have no time to lose (aside.) My intrusion troubles you I'll seek m a$yUnn ; else where. ( Wraps his cloak about him hastily , and crossing to the door, is suddenly met by GUILLAUME, whom MICHAEL went to fetch at the entrance of ALTIERJ). GuiL 'Tis the very man ! (Abide). Lis. What man ? GuiL Hush ! Stranger, you seek repose you .shall have it if you require food, you shall have that too, and a soldier's welcome. Come, $ FOR ENGLAND, Sir, sit and eat with liV/goe? to table} Michael, take the gentleman's cloak and hat. Alt. He does not remember me. (Aside). ( In giving the cloak to MICHAEL, the belt, on which is a large steel clasp, falls from the cloak). Wandering thro' Normandy to Dieppe, I stop'd at the depot, for the purpose of delivering a let- ter to the Commandant. GuiL (aside). That is true. Ait. It was the petition of the unfortunate Altieri, for the Commandant to interest himself in his behalf, and obtain, if possible, a new trial. GuiL Good ; but why did he not wa't his answer from the Commandant ? (Aside). (Here MICHAEL, having laid the hat and cloak on a small table at the side, returns ivith a jug, and seeing the belt on th$ floor , picks it up). Mich. Here, Sir, is your GuiL (who has observed him, snatches the jug with his right hand arid the belt with Vie left, which he conceals). Aye, right, Michael give me leave, Sir here is your wine. Jer. Ay, ay, 'tis right wine, i'faith your health, Sir. Alt. Yours, friend, arid all (drinks) so (they offer food). Nay, I cannot eat now then to repose. Gull. At your pleasure, Sir 'tis a homely- couch, but with the reflection that you have this day done a kind action, it will as much refresh your aching limbs as tho' 'twere down that pillowed them. Alt. A heart at ease might find repose, bu mine is breaking ! Accept a soldier's gratitude* FOR ENGLAND, HO I" SONG ALTIBRI. I. "Whate'er my fate, where'er I roam, By sorrow still oppress'd ; I'll ne'er forget the peaceful home, That cave a wanderer rest. K>1> L rf , , Ihen ever rove life s sunny banks, By sweetest flow'rets strew'd j Still may you claim a Soldier's thanks, A Soldier's gratitude! II. The tender sigh, the balmy tear, That meek-eye'd Pity gavej My last expiring hour shall cheer, And bless the wanderer's grave ! Then ever rove life's sunny banks, By sweetest flow'rets strew'd j Still may you claim a Soldier's thanks, A Soldier's gratitude ! (As ALTIERI retires at the end of the Song, he offers money). Guil. .Tftay, Sir, 1 do not wish to boast a foolish pride, but here your bounty \vould ap- pear a recompense excuse me. (ALTIERI grasps GUILLAUME'S hand, and uttering the words, " Thanks, thanks/* goes up the stairs). Jer. What was that he muttered ? Lis. Poor creature, he looks very ill. Jer. So I say he's the most ill- look ing fel- low I ever saw in my life. Guil. (examining the clasp). Here are some initials on the clasp that may lead to a discovery of the owner How ! What can this mean- E.A,! 10 FOR ENGLAND, HOT Jer. What's the matter? , Us. Guillaume I t/ie Same Gull. Let me reflect yes, it must be but sorrow has so changed him he grasp'd my haqd with the warmth of gratitude tears too were in his eyes Yes, yes ! 'twas his own petition he delivered and I knew him not. Lis. Whom do you mean ? Guil. Enrico Altieri ! (a knock). Ha ! who's that knocks at such an hour ? Jaq. (without) Guillaume ! Guillaume ! (Still knocks}. Guil. Open the door^ make haste (LisExxa opens it} Ah, Jaques and the Commandant ! To what lucky accident is my poor house indebted for this condescension ? Com. Attend ! A person strangely habited has delivered a petition at the prison-gate addressed to me, in behalf of that wretch who killed my dearest friend, the Baron Hoist ien. A large cloak shrouded his figure, and the shade of his broad hat in part concealed his features but I suspect Guil. What! Com. That 'tis he himself Altieri. Guil. Altieri ! Jaq. I saw him enter this house, and Guil. This house ! Mich. Oh, father, it must be the stranger. Guil. That ivas here no doubt, no doubt. (JEROME pushes MICHAEL to LISETTE). l W il&U 16 FOR ENGLAND, HO!" Enter ALTIERI. Alt. So far I have eluded all enquiry once on board, and I am saved should I never return, farewell my dearest Eliza, perhaps for ever. SONG. ALTIERI. Pear maid, should I never return, Oh give to remembrance a tear ! The love in my heart still shall burn, For one who has cherish'd it here, For ever ! for ever, dear maid ! imp lor ing TOM). Guil. Have you seen him ? Tom. Where should I have seen him ?< I'll fcad 'em into 'a different part o'the house he "FOR ENGLAND, HO!'* L>i may then slip his cable, and scud out o'port without being hail'd. V Enter JAGUIES, with Soldiers. Jaq. We have traced him at last. You station yourself at that door, the rest follow me into the house. Guil. Then he is lost ! (Aside.) Jaq. Comet Tom. Stand by, you lubber I'll show you the way. QUARTETTO LAUREL, TOM TOUGH, JACIUES, t - ^ and LISETTE. Tom. Now follow, I will lead the way. Be steady Lau. Yet a moment stay. Guil. (Reading paper}. Five feet eight inches Lis. Pale and wan Guil. A broad- brim'd hat, with feathers on. Lis. To shield his body from the cold, Guil. A large black cloak, decay'd and old. Ml. Now follow, he will lead the way : Be steady now, be cautious, pray. (While the description is sung, ALTIERI is seen to throw off his dress at the articles described) . [Exeunt all but GUILLAUME, LISETTE, and Centinel. (The Centinel parades before the door of the Hotel LISETTE endeavours to attract his - '', attention, while GUILLAUME makes signs to ALTIERI to descend this is rendered difficult, from the peculiar direction of the 22 FOR ENGLAND, HO I" soldier's march backward and forward / until LTSETTE engages the notice of the centinel, when GUILLAUMK lifting a pack- age on others which are about the spot y se- cures the descent of the fugitive, and drawing his sword, interrupts and threatens the soldier, for his gallantry to LISETTE ALTIERI rushing off at the moment. The soldier seizes his Jirelock to defend himself. Music appropriate, which at the entrance of the COMMANDANT with other Soldiers, bursts into a Chorus. JAGUES appears at the ivindow from which AL- TJERI has escaped TOM returns with Sol^ diers, laughing at their disappointment}. Jaq, This way he has escaped. (From CHORUS SOLDIERS, A short reprieve, his race is run- In vain he flies the game is won ! And he ere long must wait his doom ( Within the dungeon's deepest gloom. END OF THE FIRS?" ACT, . ,r lt&"f?TO FOR ENGLAND, HO Act IL SCENE L Qutskirt of the Town of Dieppe the Harbour in, the distance Cottage on the left Peasants and JEROME discovered The Vintage. % : -. ^ f . CHORUS. Xads and lasses, while they labour, Cheerly chaunt the roundelay, Then at eve the pipe and tabor Closes merrily the day. Jer. Cease, lads cease your labour; girls, give over work, for all to-day is holiday and joy. Peasants. What, Old Jerome 1 Welcome, Je - ro me, welcome ! Jer. Thank you, thank you but go, go and prepare a welcome for the beautiful and good Miss Arundel. She is just returned from a visit, and brought me with her Heaven bless her for her kindness, I say. {Bells.} Hark ! the bells are ringing to celebrate the event, and we must have none but merry faces, and hearts as light as mine away with you ! Enter LISETTE. Ah, Lisette, you run-away rogue, I am . before you ! Lis. I have heard it all. Jer. Have you heard of Altieri ? Lis. Yes all is yet safe. Jer. Safe Ithat's joyful news. Poor lady, 21 - FOR ENGLAND, HO r when I told her what had happened, she took oft sadly 'tis pity, truly, that she who feels so much for the misfortunes of others, should have any of her own to trouble her. But where is Gnillaume ?^ Lis. Oh, he'll soon follow me, I'll warrant. Jer. Ah, thou hast attractions, and 'tis but right, for he can never stir but you are close at his heels just as your mother served me Well, child, thy love holds merrily. Lis. Aye, truly does it. I could follow him still in wealth or poverty, and never .heave a sigh of sorrow but when his duty calls him from me. SONG LISETTE. [Omitted after the first representation]. When Guillaume first tried, To make me his bride, Then I was the joy of his life, And the honey-moon's light On our wedding shone bright. For he call'd me his dear little wife. I sung lira', la, la, &c. When he call'd me his dear little wife, j! But the honey-moon set, The poor man in a pet, Began thus a conjugal strife I am busy, pray go, And because I said, " No," He cried, " Zounds, what a plague of a wife," I sung lira, la, la, &c. Yet I still am his dear little wife. [Exit LISETTE to Cottage JEROME . up the Fineyard. " FOR ENGLAND, HO!" 25 Jer. Ah, well; I must see after our little festival You get every thing ready within. Our lady will be here anon. \Exlt up Stage. [Exit LISETTE to Cottage. Enter on the opposite side, the COMMANDANT and JAQUES. Com. This is their haunt We ard arriv'd in time. Jaq. 'Tis evident Guillaume is treacherous, and ^ Com. Be silent be cautious -you are too vio- lent should accident in any way discover that Holstien still lives " Jaq. Lives! does Holstien live? I thought - (T Com. (aside). 'Sdeath 'tis too late so far I must trust him ^He does ; but Holstien is my dearest friend, and I wish to serve him. He ten- dered his affection to this Eliza Arundel, and was rejected she preferred the youth A Itieri. Smart- ing with disappointment, Holstien exerted his authority beyond endurance he' reviled, he .dis- honored, and at length he struck the boy En- rico- In a distant province they met, and fought. Jaq. I remember Com, Holstien fell- Altieri fled, and concealed himself, convinced the wound he gave his enemy was mortal; and on this belief doe* Holstien's future hope depend- for still he loves this girl. Jaq. Then why not try his fortune now? Com. Until this fugitive Altieri be taken 'tis useless ; therefore lurk near the*house, and watch them carefully ; but for your life mention not the Baron to a human being should they once know that Holstien lives, 'twould mar us E 26 FOR ENGLAND, HO!" instantly This paper, signed by the Intendant of Police, is the order for his apprehension. Whatever assistance you may want, this will procure (gives a purse) be faithful, and re- member your reward. [Exit COMMANDANT. Jaq. To . thwart this haughty Guillaume, would have been sufficient recompense, but this private service money has fixed me a smart affair enough but what does it contain (empties the purse) Oh ! this will do. (Music heard. JAQUES retires-* Enter LI- SETT E from Cottage : a lie places a table seats, fruit, &c, as the Villagers aduancc with ELIZA AUU.NDEL, JEKOME -first ^ joyfully). Lis. They are coming- ! I hear the music. (Advances to meet ELIZA).. Eliz. Ah; Lisette, my poor girl .ever the first to welcome home your mistress. Jer. 'Tis her duty, lady Lis. And I'm sure my greatest pleasure. Eliz. Good girl but where is Guillaume ? Has he brought Altieri hither ? x Lis. Not yet. Jaq. Altieri! so (Aside watching from his. concealment). Eliz. Poor Enrico 1 love has been thy only crime justly, but rashly resenting the insults of a detested rival, thy only fault. Jer. Be of good cheer, lady in this cottage you may see him in safety. Eliz. True, I may oiice again see him, whom, to my unfeeling aunt, I dare not confess is sa dear to me. r l he unexpected appearance of my brother, Captain Laurel, has given me new hope: to him I have disclosed our situation, and he has promised t,o assist us. FOR ENGLAND, IIO !" 27 Jtrq. Indeed ! (Aside). Itliz. When the tide turns at sun-set, a boat will be readv on the shore a vessel will be 1) ing- to in die harbour, and in a few short hours Altieri will -breathe the air of liberty. Jer. Aye, in England ! 'tis the wanderer's home ! Ell:.. But I interrupt your merriment come ! f ELIZA seats herself at the table, attended by J RHOMB and LISETTE. A Pastoral Dance commences ike various implements of the Mintage , with ribbons and powers, made use of in a gay fanciful arrange- went. JAQUES looks occasionally from his concealment. As the Dance concludes, GUILLAUME enters in haste and alarm, 'followed by ALTIERI /^ GUJLLAUME'S hand the cloak, &c.) GuiL Courage, bir, courage! this is to be your place of concealment. Jaq. (behind). Is it so ! Now to the Com- mandant. Gail. Ah ! whose voice was that ? AY/z. (Having lisenfrom the table, at the inter- ruption). Enrico! my beloved Enrico ! Alt. Eliza, here I GuiL Stay not in this spot you may be ob*> served retire to the cottage, 1 entreat you. [ELIZA, ^LTIEKI, and LISKTTE Exeunt. Jer. (to Peasants). Away lasses, away bovs away away with you. [Exit Peasants. What has happen VI ? (to GUILLAUME). Gui I. VVe have been seen-* watch'd .this coat and this belt must be destroyed As we passVi hither, the Commandant, or i am much mis- taken, cross'd our path if lie has discovered us my iile is forfeit. 2 8 FOR ENGLAND, HO!" Jer. Your life, Oh no, no not yonr life. GuiL Death will be more welcome than dis- grace ; and if nothing less will prove my grati* tude, willingly for her shall I resign that life which she preserved. Bat come, father, our plan is laid, and when the sun sets, Enrico's free! \_Exeunt to Cottage. (Musicj. SCENE II. An Apartment at Miss E. ARUNBEL'S. Enter LAUREL andTou TOUGH. Lau. You and your companions then promise your assistance- you will not fail ? Tom. Not we, your Honour when I pipe all hands they'll obey the signal. But who'd have thought of seeing my old Commander here ! J haven't been better pleas'd since you made Tom Tough a boatswain. ' Lau. Well, brother sailor, wait within, and when you have delivered Sir Frank's message, remember my request. Tom. I warrant your Honour. [Exit. Lau. So far all bids fairly- My sisters expla- nation has been ampleher aunt ? s obstinate re- , fusal to sanction the addresses of Altieri, was the chief cause pf their misfortunes ; and if I have power to prevent it, they shall no longer be the victims of injustice and oppression that done, the ocean, again shall be my element, a ship my cradle, and the rough wind my lullaby. FOR ENGLAND, HO!" 29 SONG. LAUREL. I. Scarce had the tempest ceas'd to roar, Scarce had our ship beat off the shore, When beam'd the morning light, All hands make sail * the boatswain cries, Our flying royals sweep the skies, A vessel hpve in sight ! II. We near'd the chase, the fight began- When ship to ship, and man to man, *} Each Briton's heart beat high! Longside the foe our guns we plied, Till a mere reck on ocean's tide, We shouted victory | hi! A crippled hulk, now home we steer, To friend and mistress doubly dear, With hearts elate we fly ; For those who fell, a sigh they heave A For us a crown of laurel weave, And hail our victory ! Re- enter TOM. Tom. Now for a peep at Sir Frank's sweetheart I shouldn't wonder now if my Nell wasn't the tighter vessel o'the two, tho' she ban't so smartly rigg'd (pulls the letter out of his tobacco box) Wheugh ! (gives along whistle) black as a collier in the Pool Ecod there she is, stately as a three- decker How large she looms she's about, and 30 FOn ENGLAND, HO!" stands this way My eye ! how her canvas shakes in the wind. (Retires). Enter Miss ELEANOR A RUN DEL. Miss A. So, the hour approaches when I shall again behold the elegant Sir Francis Faddle when last in England, his attentions to me were too evident to be misunderstood, and this oppor- tunity will no doubt be chosen to lay his title and fortune at my feet. I am surprised he 'is not here - the weather appears favourable I wonder \\ hat's the hour. Tom. (suddenly- who during the speech, has been making observations) Halt past- tour P.M. scud flying, with squalls, and a gale of wind from the northward, please your Ladyship ; at least that's the reckoning by the log-book of my un- derstanding. Miss A. Mercy on me, what a voice ! why, \vho are you, fellow ? Tom. By name Tom Tough, please your wor- ship. I'm rated on Sir Frank's books as a sort of loblolly boy, and ha' brought this here billy doo I think he called it. (Miss- Arundel receives the letter turns it in amazement, &c. which dis~ concerts TOM.) Miss A. To Mad llc E. Arundel Tom. That's right mun E. stands for Miss A. Eleanor it should have been written at full. Tom. Eleanor oh ! that's French for Nell, I take it they call my wife so sometimes. Miss A. This is very strange ! Tom. Bless you Sir Frank be as strange as his writing every bit afore I went to sea the last cruise, he was as tight a lad as ever crack'd bis- FOR ENGLAND, HO !" 34 cuit ; but since the Admiral died, he has hoisted the standard of Folly crowded more sail than he's ballast to carry, and yaws confoundedly Miss A. (finishing the letter) "Your devoted admirer, Francis Faddle." Your master is well, I hope. Tom. Mortal bad, I tell yon the topping lifts of jaws ha' given way, and he clips the. kind's English cruelly aw-yaw, then the main and hack stays of his leg are gone, and lie swags starboard and larboard like a crippled mast alter an action, as if he'd go by the board every roll (imitating Sir F.) Miss A* Dreadful indeed ! I was not pre- pared for this his constitution must be greatly impaired. Tom. Bless your heart, no but you see, he rigs himself out as gay as a French, galley keeps race- horses, and hunters, and hounds then he keeps a but that's no affair of yours. Miss A. What, he delights in rural sports ? Tom. No, but his friends do O he's got plenty o' friends since he's had plenty o* shot in his locker. Then he plays billiard and hazard - talks of cannons and the main and then the yellow boys fly about like so many spent shot. Miss A. Is Sir Francis successful at play ? Tom. Oh no but his friends are, and that's the same thing, you know, Ma'am. Ah, the old Admiral was the lad for Tom Tough he knew of no main but the salt sea no cannons but the guns of his fleet; and talk of hunting no chace was like the pursuit of an enemy, and no colour so glorious as the red rags of Old Eng~ land flying over an enemy's Ensign. Miss A. Inform your master I am impatient till I behokl him. 32 FOR ENGLAND, HOl" Tom. I'll pass the word. (As she turns away 9 Jie snaps his fingers aside). I thought so no more. to be compared to my Nell, than a purser's shirt is to a main-top-sail. Miss A This secures my fondest hope ^-1 shall be the bride of Sir Francis-^-and triumph over a niece, who would degrade her family by a mar- riage with the worthless Altieri. I know at this moment she is exerting all her interest to have his rank restored ; but the fatal termination of the duel, will for ev r er banish him the country, and Eliza's presence. [Exit. Tom. Well, I wonder what Sir Frank can see in her but its the way with these fair weather chaps now-a-days they covet the command of these crazy old vessels, and let some o'the tightest little frigates in the service sail by 'em. Enter Sir FRANCIS FADDLE, dressed. Fad. At last I have made myself tolerable look-at-able hope the ladies will admire me - raptures no doubt, tho' they won't say so but really this is a very disagreeable affair of Eliza's with that that I forget the fellow's name but, however, it has not gone too far, and I'll take pity on her wonder she didn't answer my tender billet, tho' perhaps that sea-horse, my man Tom, has never deliver'd it never seen her face, I dare say. Tom. O yes, I have and such a face its right worshipful. Fad. Right worshipful ! Tom. Yes ; like my Lord-Mayor's. Fad. Did you deliver my letter to the -accom- plish'd and beautiful Tom. Beautiful ! why I took an observation,, ENGLAND, HO!" S3 your Honour, but from the size and redness of her face, damn me if it wasn't a lunar one Bless your heart ! she's not half so handsome as the figure-head of the Venus, tho' she was fresh painted. Fad. Fresh painted ! she never wore rouge in her life. Tom. She did when I saw her look'd like the Red Commodore's broad pennant run up to her topmast- head. Fad. Hold your horrid jargon, prayI say her face is beautiful. Tom. Might ha' been when first launched but its laid up in ordinary now, however. Fad. Ordinary ! you Vandal! Oh, here comes her aunt stand aside, Goth ! that tar-barret sees no beauty but in a mermaid. Now should Eliza accept me, the aunt's consent will still be necessary, or some of her golden charms will be lost i must endure the bore of wheedling the old one first ; for the matrimonial pill, properly gilded, slips down easy enough, but I can't swal- low a bolus. . tinier Miss ARUNDEL. Ah ! my dear Madam, I rejoice to see you, I protest. Miss A. Sir Francis Faddle is most welcome how elegantly modern ! (Aside). Fad. Shockingly antique ! {Aside). I am sorry to intrude but a tender anxiety respecting Miss A. Oil, Sir, I will no longer oppose an union that will, I trust, be productive of mutual felicity. FcuL Dearest Madam, how shall I thank you ? 34 "FOR ENGLAND, IIO I" Tom. Give her a one-and-twenty! a Salute! your Honour. Fad. Get out! Tom. Get out! Oh, hem ! I know time for me to sheer off I'll bring- to within hail, tho'. [Exit TOM. Aliss A. Yet there are circumstances which should be considered. Fad. Hey ! I I don't comprehend. Miss A. A certain difference of manner, of habit a a a difference of age too. Fad. Difference of age ! Why I am only thirty, and Eliza must be (aside) oh, a trifle a mere trifle, I protest : besides, a little experience of the world will be useful, and I intend to reform immediately. Miss A. Then I may hope Fad. Yes, yes I shall endeavour with all pos- sible dispatch to regain the perfect use of my faculties, for the facetious rogues in Saint James's Street, say I'm quite effeminate; and because my name happens to be Francis, salute me with the title of Fanny Fanny Faddle,- they do, I pro- test then the people- laugh. Miss A. Insolent, indeed ! Why do you per-* mit such liberties ? Fad. I can't help it but none of us mind being laugh'd at. It was but t'other day, I caught my rascal of a valet displaying every fashionable eccentricity with as much ease as he did my cast- off cloathes: the fellow had contrived to get near- sighted too ! and what w ^h tne abrogation- of the R's, the lassitude of his voice, and the' ap- parent dislocation of his joints, curse me if I didn't take him for one of us ! and actually made my bow, before I discover'd my error. Miss A. Is it possible !~ * i3 FOR ENGLAND, ITO!" 35 Fad. Fact, I protest. I actually blush 'cl, to see how completely a fellow devoid of education, could in one moment attain qualifications, which cost all us so much assiduity to acquire. Oh, I'll reform- I'll make an excellent husband there- fore let me be bless'd by hearing an avowal. Miss A. Sir Francis, I will no longer refuse a consent on which depends my future happiness. Fad. Charming woman ! on my knees Miss A. Approach, and take the hand you have so- long and anxiously solicited (holding her fond out afictedty). ' ' . _ (SADDLE having dropped on Ins knees, is electrified by the conclusion of Miss AHUX- 'A- speech). Fad. Hey ! Your your hand, Madam ? iss A. What means this coldness ? . Fad. Coldness ! (rising) Curse me if I am; mg ! ausoad has ;9J*n; ;j^ *.. f jb^^ fW-Ht riJiw , dtti stoiifnter TOM. \ .^ c oia 1 e foe thought he'd struck but he sung, Avast ! And the Colours of England he nail'd to the mast f Tto he 1 died like a true British Sailor ! jfiVr- bfiKctej otto! iimh' Sfe *OR ENGLAND, HO ' ' SCENE IIJ. IcoK j k .i 5a/tf 05 the first, but varied in effect by the set~ ting Sun. jon Enter from the Cottage, LAUREL and ALTIERJ. Lctu. You must now prepare for your depar- ture the wind is favourable, and when the sun has set, you can leave us without fear of inter- ruption. Alt. Your generous friendship will ever live in my retnembrance-^-but thus to part from my be- loved Eliza Lau. Hope the best and remember, you have friends that never will desert you. 5e aO#^i*iA &:>' ti K! p.V Enter GUILLAUME, in haste. - i ar.fe GuiL It was surely he I could not mistake him. Lau. What mean you ? GuiL Danger is abroad you must retire, Sir. How lie has discovered us I know not ; but if I live, I saw that villain Jaques. Enter LISETTB/WW the Cottage. -3?:jr o&' $" i ><*> iiifctetusji 'x) The sun is setting, and our BO! appeared. Lau. I begin to fear some accident. (Asifie)-. GuiL Lisette, conduct this gentleman to the room above there, Sir, you must remain, and do not stir till I pronounce aloud the name of Enrico Altierii [Otb * \Jxit ALTJERI and LISETTE. Lau. Where can these fellows loiter 'tis FOR ENGLAND, HO P 39 well Eliza feels not my anxiety ; but the object of her affection, at every risk, shall be preserved. Guil. Flush ! I hear a footstep. Lau. It cannot be the seaman, or his compa- nions'you would have heard the signal, o *s <*(**> Enter LISETTE and ATTIERI. Alt. lam calFd I come. Jaq. You are welcome, Sir. (Seizing him)-. Guil. Then our course is desperate. Seize that fellow ! (ToM grapples him}. . Jaq. Ha, ha, ha ! T07H. You needn't grin, mun you'll find it no jokeI'll give you a salt eel for your supper. Jag. I have assistance near. Tom. So have we, mayhap. Guil. Search him ( Touforcin g away the paper, the purse falls on the ground). Speak ! from whom did you receive this purse ? Jaq. From the Commandant. Guil. Indeed ! the name of Holstien is upon it, emboss'd in gold. Jaq. Holstien ! Guil. Now, give me that paper, as I suspected, 'tis a forgery/ T (jAaiTES attempts to fly, and is caught by TOM, but not before he has sounded a bugle, and bitl .DwSL Indeed 'twill be ^vh. f v - * i he sister of our King. ^ jgfj{ 8}i ,, Chorus. Now prepare, &c. Rasa. Now then, away and prepare the cham- bers. -riJ io Jifiq bv b-Ewter PEDRIGO POTTS.- 3j 8B v/ . Oh, I'm a happy man I'm a happy man ! Pedrigo Potts is a happy man ! My house will be celebrated for ever 1 I shall be celebrated for ever, and What do ye stand gaping there for ? Do you want to see me ruin'd, you pack of idle, abominable [Exeunt Gregory, Philip, ffc Rosa. Patience, father, patience. Ped. Oh! Pedrigo Putts, Pedrigo Potts! who would have thought it ? The Princess of Na- varre, with all her attendants, and the Grand Chamberlain to boot, put up at my hotel ! It will be the making of me. Oh, I'm a happy man \ I haven't ate, drank, or slept, these four x days I'm dying with impatience and Pedrigo Potts is * happy man ! Rosa. Very happy indeed four days have we been waiting for this august Personage, and in ail JOHN OF PARIS. " 9 probability we shall wait four days longer. 1 fancy you have as little return for yoi\r expence, as 1 for my trouble here we are just as we began. Fed. Not quite, for I have half ruin'd myself in providing for h^ v T6 be sure the Chamber- i j^r I'lIMg } HJV yijl tain gave me fifty piastres, by way of earnest but, mercy on us, he swauowa them all up in the dinner he order'd, when he engaged my house for her Highness. r> T>- i i' '- ii i J212DII i_ . Rosa. Did he tell you when the Princess would set out? Ped.' Yes, but not -wh'ffii arrive and ..../ i now its just four days Rosa. I'll be bound she's gone by the other road. Fed. And if she is, I shall be bound and sent to prison. I shall never be able to pay for a tenth part of the victuals I've ordered. Why, I've laid waste the whole country did you see the tnMi *v ^ Rosa. I did there's enough in it to feed an fed. May be so; but let me tell you, fora Princess and her train, its a mere snack only a relish. By the bye, that butcher's-meat ought to be drest the fish too, is rather on the go and as to the poultry there's destruction! there's devastation ! We shan't have an egg to breakfast these six months. Rosa. Oh, I have no fear about that, the Chamberlain's cook knows how to get up a dinner. fed. Yes, and his master knows how to get it down : he has given one specimen of his abi- lities that way, and I'm not very anxious for ano- ther ; for if all the great folks in her Highness's train bring such devilish twists as this Charnber- 10 JOHN OF PARIS. lain, we shan't have a scrap left to stick into a stray customer. Rosa. But tell me, father, is it by the King's desire, that the Princess returns to court ? Fed. It is she's going to pick and choose a husband among all the gay sparks of Princes that are now assembled at Paris. I must say, I feel a little fiatter'd at the preference given to my house on this occasion but appearance and behaviour is every thing in an inn-keeper ( conceitedly ) . r She'll stop at no other house, depend on't. Rosa. Why, she has no choice there is no other on this road. Fed. So much the better. Not that pride or interest have any influence with me. No, I take in the prirce and the peasant with equal satisfac- tion. Rosa. That's true indeed, father . , Fed. Every body knows Pedrigo Potts ; so that mv guests are but honest Rosa < And pay well- Fed. That's all I reqnire-Hey ! who's this-a foot-passenger ? Rosa, tell him he can't stop here I wish to be civil, but foot-passengers won't do to-day any other time I shall be proud of his custom. [Exi gEnter PHILIP, conducting V ni ov7 j & jid TRIO. ROSA, PHILIP, and VINCENT. I JooYB id* * 1&\ Vin. To day at this inn I shall rest; m'l To please, you must all do your best, To ;- wri am M Rosa. Hf 4 does not surely mean to stay y eins We can't attend on him to-day jfi[lo JOHN OF PARIS. U DiJg What must we say ? What would you, pray ? We can't attend on you to-day. \ . ft? ,o$l Now will you, Sir, pay attention.^''* < No! -8i jl .5ra*L r go; : Rwcal ! dare that word to mention. Yin. Witli fatigue I nearly expire ; 3?,non To remain here, is all I desire. Fair Damsel, take compassion, pray f -gr ill no Oh give repose Oh let me stay. Rosa. C 'Tis all in vain, now leave us, pray, Phil. $ We can't attend on you to-day. n girfj noisrfto Enter PEDRIGO. *29T9}fri .Fed. Holloa ! holloa ! what's all this noise ? Rosa. Really a good looking young man, father, but he won't go. T 1 TTT Jill *^ fed. Won t go ! oh, oh Rosa. I suspect he's a Page of the Princess Ped. A Page, pho ! a Pedlar, you mean ;- out I'll talk to him. Fin. If civility won't gain admittance, impu- dence must. Your most obedient, Sir, your name I take it is is Ped. Pedrigo Potts what then ? Fin. Then this fair maid is Ros. Rosa, Sir, that's my name ; I'm, I'm my father's daughter, Sir. Fin. Indeed (hisses her hand) a fine girl this, Pedrigo ; I'll stay a day or two in your house ; show me an apartment, and be attentive. Ped. Come, that's a high touch for a foot pas- senger. I'm not quite sure that I have a room to spare. Fin. But I am, therefore let me have re- freshments directly none of your trash, but a bottle of Burgundy and a venison chop. 13 JOHN OF PARIS. Fed. A bottle of Burgundy and a venison chop ! here's a dainty dog not a mouthful of either. (Getting between them) I tell you my whole house is,engag'd I'm engag'd and my daughter's en- gag' d Go and mind your business, Rosee. ?\fa Rosa. I'm going, father, (aside to Vincent) to get you some refreshment. Fed. Leave the room, hussey. Rosa. Well, I will I'm going, but don't you leave it (aside to Vincent). Fin. Delightful creature! as unlike Mr. Potts in the face, as she is in her behaviour. Fed. I must take this young fellow down %.peg or two let me say Fin. Pho, pho, Potts, the less you say the better. Don't be ridiculous. Fed. But I will be ridiculous. Zooks, this is the coolest chap I ever met with. Fin. Don't stand chattering there, but go and make ready my master will be here immedi- ately. Fed. Master! Your master! A laquey, as I hope for custom. Why, you unspeakable cox- comb, Do you know who I am? Fin. Pedrigo Potts. You just told me so. Fed. Very facetious truly the master of such a man* must needs be a person of vast importance, Pin. No doubt. Fed. And pray what's his- name? Fin. John of Paris. Fed. John of Paris ! And who the plague's he ? Fin. A person who means to stop at this hotel, and has sent me forward to give due notice of his approach. Fed. Indeed ! then pray go back to John of Paris, and give him due notice that the Grand Chamberlain and the Princess of Navarre^ d now si i' V JOHN OF PARIS. 13 Fin. Pho! Pho! Ped. Pho, pho, to a Princess! I'm galva- nised I tell yon I haven't room for man nor beast, Fin. Don't be agitated, make yourself easy this is a public Inn, and first come, first served so here I stick Mr. Potts. (Sitting down.) (Confusion and ringing of Bells without.) P^d* .Well, hang me if ever I saf Enter GREGORY. /mo .i>ofil 9flJ m What's the matter now ? . jaum 1 . Greg. Oh, Sir, a quantity of horses and car- riages are just arrived,, and Pcd. Come, are they ? that's lucky ; they have forestalled Mr. John of Paris at all events. Greg. Where are they to go ? rfo ^slooD srfi Ped. Go ! into the stables, to be sure. Greg. The stables ! Ped. Why, would the booby bring them into the house ? Greg. But the stables are engaged for the Princess of Navarre. Ped. Well, blockhead ; isn't this part of her equipage ? Greg. Her name's not on the saddle-cloths. Ped. No ! whose then ? Greg. John of Paris. [Exit Gregory. Ped. John of Paris ! (looks with, surprise at Vincent,) horses and carriages ! 'Pin. Yes, horses and carriages. He often sends his retinue forward. Ped. His retinue ! retinue ? Fin. If so it may be call'd merely a dozen carriages or so, thirty or forty pair of horses, and attendants in proportion. fed. (Aside.) A bird in the hand is worth two il JOHN OF PARIS. in the bush four days are gone, and here's ho Princess high time the provisions were drest too if I could but manage them both, ,-there'd be picking ! Pray, Sir, take a chair be cover'd, I beg; this room is rather damp, and Rosee I Rosee, my dear ! brin^ a bottle of Burgundy and a biscuit. I'll endeavour to accommodate ; but I fear I can't quite contrive Fin, Don't bother, Potts. Ped. This may be a better catch than t'other, Enter ROSA, with Wine, Glasses , &c. Now for it there, Sir, there! (pouring Wine) that's what I call a glass of wine. Fin. I dare say you often call it so ; but I am not sure till I taste (drinks)~ Hem 1 very well for an Inn* Ped. Very well for an Inn, hey ! You shan't say that of the bill, my boy. So, Mr. John of Paris will do me the honour Fin. I've told you so a dozen times. Ped. Well, there is one small room that I can give up rather smoky, to be sure, but if the smell of the larder the kitchen, I mean isn't unpleasant Fin. You admit us then ? Ped. I do. Fin. That is sufficient, Mr. Potts (aside) So far all's right. Ped. That affair's settled. Nothing gives me so much pleasure as accommodating my, custo- mers. Every body knows me Fin. For one of the most time-serving rascals that ever kept an Inn. fFiolent ringing of Bells, and confusion of Voices without.) JOHN OF PAR! / > Enter ROSA. Rosa. Father ! father ! there are so many more fresh comers on horseback and on foot ! I don't know^ where we shall put them. Fed. What, more ! here's a pretty business ! the train of the Princess arrived before I've done with John of Paris ! I told you how 'twould be (to Vincent) Plague on't I told you what a cavalcade I expected now -do, pray take another glass of wine, and be off. Fin. Don't be troublesome, fellow I'll neither drink wine nor leave the house. (Ringing bells. ) Peel. Oh, I'm in for it is the Chamberlain with them ? Rosa. They don't belong to him. Fed. No ! who then ? Rosa. John of Paris. [Exit Rosa. (Pedrigo in amazement drops the glass, &c.) Fed. John of Paris! I never heard of this man before to-day he must be the Walking Phi- losopher. This Mr. John must be" amazingly- rich . Fin. He is arid when pleased with his host, always leaves the most palpable proofs of his mag- nificence and generosity. Fed. Indeed ! well, it's not my place to affront a customer, you know. Fin. Certainly not. Fed. And such a customer, e'cod if I give up business, business will soon give up me. Fin. Unquestionably. Fed. It's a done thing, that for the Chamber- lain! (snapping his fingers). I'll run all risks Rosa ! my dear, where are you ? I'll go and see about it directly: Miss Potts, I say Miss Potts! [Exit. r 16 JQHN OF PARIS. Fin. At last I have secured the house for Mr. John. These love-affairs are really very trouble- some, yet true it is, no pleasure on earth equals the return of affection from the girl that we love. * SONG VINCENT. V When the girl that I love, this true heart is tormenting, Her eyes to my rival incessantly rove ; in a medley of passions her falsehood resenting, I ne'er can depart from the girl that I love ! When the girl that I love with good humour is smiling, Her eyes fondly beaming affection to prove, All the cares of my bosom so sweetly beguiling, I ne'er can depart from the girl that I love. Enter PEDRIGO, followed by ROSA. Rosa. But, father Ped. Don't talk to me, Rosa -I insist upon it, he'll be gone long enough before the Princess arrives, and therefore I'll venture to put him into the best apartment. Rosa. The best apartment ! I have prepared that for the Princess of Navarre, not for a mere Ped. A mere what ? No disrespect, if you please ; have not I told you a thousand times, to receive all comers with equal attention ? Did you ever know me vary in my principles ? Oh fie ! fie for shame, Miss Potts, I'm shock*d ! Rosa, Indeed, sir, I beg your pardon, but but Fin. Don't be cast down, Rosa endeavour to acquire some of your father's principles, they will soon cure you of this diffidence. (Rosa takes away bottle, &c.) JOHN OF PAE1S. 17 i Ped. That's what I tell her over and over ; but she never minds what her poor father says. Now, if I may make so bold, pray what is this Mr. John ? Vin. A man ? Ped. I suspected so but what what is he ? F'in. A citizen. Ped. Ay, but what does he do ? Vin. A vast deal eats, drinks, sleeps, walks, and talks. Ped. Bless my soul ! he can't have a moment to himself. Well, T never in my life was so anxi- ous to see a customer as this Mr. Greg. (Enters) John of Paris ! Ped. Hey ! Zooks, I'm all in a flutter. .'I JIA Enter JOHN OF PARIS and Suite, ROSA, fate. SOLO AND CHORUS JOHN and Suite. John. Be welcome, ray friends, and pass gaily (be hours That freedom and mirth are combining to charm, While Love, join'd with Hope, strew the path- way with ilowers, And doubt, of it fears and its terrors disarm. Char. Be welcome, &c. i John. Now, Vincent, shew me the Landlord, Fin. Certainly, Sir ; but I thought every body knew Pedrigo Potts [Presents Pedrigo, who in great alarm hangs back, and supplicates Vincent."] John. This house appears convenient, and I engage it. Ped. Un -unfortunately John. How ! unfortunately ? Ped. That is, I mean if the Princess should come now ! (Aside). Some persons of quality C2 18 JOHN OF PARIS. have been before -hand , and and do pray help me out (Aside to Vincent). Fin. It seems the house has been already en- gaged. Ped. That's right, I only want to explain, in case of accidents (Aside to Vincent.) Fin. But Mr. Potts willingly waves their pre- tensions in favour of so distinguished a visitor as John of Paris. Fed. No, no, no ! John. Who were these persons ? Fed. (Eagerly.) So please you, Mr. John, the Grand Chamberlain and her Royal Highness the Princess of Navarre. John. Indeed, and what .have they given you ? Fed. Fifty piastres, Mr. John. John. There are a hundred the house is mine. Fed. But consider, Sir how am 1 to provide for John. Well remfember'd we shall need all you can procure; there, (giving more money)- provide immediately. Fed. Oh, he's irresistible (pocketing the purses) its no use to talk, he won't understand. Rosa. What's to be done, father ? Fed. I'll be hang'd if I know ; don't ask me Mr. John and the Chamberlain must settle it I give it up I've done with it ! Rosa. But only imagine if she should come, if the Chamberlain should arrive. , Fed. Yes, yes, there'll. be a precious uproar presently I know there'll be a row- I see it com- ing 1 but if they will both insist on paying for the same articles, I'm sure the last person to find- fault will be Pedrigo Potts so come along, Gen- tlemen, this way, if you please. [Exeunt Pedrigo, with Rosa, and John of Paris'* train, with Vincent. JOHN OF PARIS. 19 John. I am arriv'd before the Princess, and so far my journey prospers. What fatigue, what clanger will not a lover brave, to win from his mistress one smile of affection. SONG JOHN. " Each art, each device, the fond lover essays, , ,,, , r C you 'ere > Fin. I Yes, $ laure11 d fanle I will $ as l )lrc ' Firm to bind on 5 y Ur *"" I Hnd f my $ sword, ke 5 remember sti]l in word. */ ' John. For thy King to battle fly ! Vin. I swear, for him to die ! John. To thy Lady homage give! Vin. I swear, for her to live ! John. Go dare, &c. FMI. I'll dare, &c. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Hall of the Hotel. In the centre a large door ; with the road and country seen beyond, Voices heard, without, and Waiters, &fc. pass and repass in great con- fusion " Landlord! Waiter! coming, &c." - ROSA enters, and meets GREGORY in the front. Rosa. Gregory ! why Gregory, what's all this noise ? Greg. Noise ! Hey did you speak ? JOHN OF PARIS. SI Rosa. Why don't you attend ? Greg. ! I do attend, but (Within). Gregory ! Greg. Coming! Fed. (Without) Gregory, -Gregory! Greg. Coming, Sir, coming (Runs to the entrance, and meets PEDRIGO, who rushes in> in consternation). Fed. Run, run, tell'em I've no room. Greg. Tell who, Sir ? Fed. A swarm of people, that have just turn'd the brow of the hill. Greg. I'll fly. \Exit Gregory. Fed. Do, and if they will stop here I'll fly I can bear it no longer there they come, as thick as a swarm of bees. Rosa. Who can they belong to? Fed. John of Paris, I suppose ; rot him ; he has jamm'd his people into every nook and corner, from the garret to the cellar. Greg, (returns). Make way for the Grand Cham- berlain ! make way for the Princess of Navarre ! Fed. The Princess ! the Chamberlain ! Enter VINCENT. Fed. There, there now I hope you're satis- fied. Vin. Perfectly, every thing is according -to my wish. Fed. The devil it is why they are come I tell you the Princess ; the Chamberlain they are not a hundred yards from the door. Vin. I'm glad to hear it. Fed. I'm much obliged to 'ye. What's to be- come of me ? 22 JOHN OF PARIS. Fin, And if they had arrived first, what was to become of John of Paris ? Ped. D - n John of Paris ; I wish he was bu- ried there the Chamberlain paid me before- hand. Fin. So did John. Ped. I shall lose my license and be sent to prison. Fin. Of course. Ped. Perhaps I shall be hang'd, Fin. Most likely, I think. Ped. Ah, very pleasant, isn't it? What a stony- hearted rascal ! I must coax him. Now do per- suade your master to go do- do take pity on a desperate man. Fin. We'll go immediately, and tell our people to make ready Ped. For their departure Fin. For dinner. Ped. What, shall they assist in serving it up to the Princess ? Fin. No ! for John of Paris. [Exit Vincent. Ped. Oh, I shall go mad ! I shall go (Music heard.) its all over with me -I'm a dead man ! (Flourish, &c.) Enter CHAMBERLAIN and Attendants. Cham. Well, bost, the Princess will be here in a few minutes. Ped. What am I to say ? (Aside.) Cham. By the number of attendants about your house, I perceive you have made arrangements for receiving her as becomes your reputation and her high rank. Ped. I'll put a good face on it. Most mighty Chamberlain, it was my intention to have received JOHN OF PARIS. & her Highness with all due respect, but I fear the apartments will not be quite quite Cham. I understand not sufficiently splendid so they are clean, you need make no apology. Fed. I'll tell him at once The facf is," a Citi- zen of Paris is now in those very rooms, and I'm afraid will not have finish'd Cham. Not have finished the decorations no matter; it will at least shew your zeal, in having sent for an upholsterer from the city. Fed. Zooks ! he's as bad as the rest I can't get in a word edgeways to explain or expostulate. Cham. The dinner is now the principal object that, I trust, is quite in readiness. Fed. Why, to speak the truth, one Mr. John of Paris, with all his attendants, are at this very moment Cham. Mr. John of Paris, a professed cook from the metropolis ! that makes up for all, and will convince the Princess how well you under- stand your business. Fed. Oh Lord ! Oh Lord ! a cook and an up- holsterer ! I must make him understand most mighty Princess, a cook! I say, most august Chamberlain, an upholsterer ! the honour con- ferr'd on me by John of Paris I mean of Na- varre no, by the Chamberlain of Paris that is Princess (seeing John, who has entered at the moment) John. Oh, I'm fmish'd, ruin'd past re- demption ! John. Now, to introduce myself (Apart.) Cham. I see you are overpower'd with this unusual honour; but I excuse you. (To Ped.j John. Pray, my Lord, is it true that the Prin- cess attends the Court for the purpose of making her election of a husband ? Cham. It is a fact. Her appearance there, is 24 JOHN OF PARIS. at the King's desire, and I have the honour to conduct her. But the Princes of Europe will be disappointed of their hopes in such an alliance, for her choice is already fix'd. John. Indeed ! then so is my fate (Aside.) Cham. But who are you, that dare address to me, so familiar a question ? Ped. Ha ! ha ! its his turn now (Aside.) Cham. Speak, who are you, fellow ? John. A citizen. Cham. A citizen what, the upholsterer! John. No, Sir ; I am cali'd John of Paris. Cham. The cook! John. Neither an independent honest man, who, with all respect to his superiors, exerts a freeman's right, and will maintain it. Cham. Thou art the most audacious varlet, that Mr. Host, how is it that I find a person of this stamr here at such a moment ? John. i'll tell you, Sir : I claim the privilege of a traveller every part of this hotel, and all that it contains, are for the present mine. Cham. Your's? Ped. E'cod he'll bother the Chamberlain as well as me. John. A Princess, I know,, can feel hunger as well as a citizen, therefore present my humble duty, and request she will partake my entertain- ment. (Retires.) Cham. What do I hear ! an invitation ! Why r Mr. Potts, explain all this. Ped. Upon my soul I can explain nothing. All I know is this ; he arrived this morning, and immediately took possession of the lodgings. Just now he" took possession of the provisions, and when the Princess arrives, hang me if I don't think he'll take possession of her, in spite o'your teeth, and that's all I know of John of Paris, JOHN OF PARIS. 25 FINALE. 'Cham. Now, good fellow, pray retire ; (John refuses) 'Sdeatb, he'll'set my blood on fire ! John. Sir, your anger now subdue, Here the Princess 1 may view. This house you know is mine to-day ; Here I am and here I'll stay ! Cham. How dare you, fellow, prate To an Officer of State 1 John. Remember, passion heats the blood, And talking thus will do no good. CHORUS, The Princess is here, Sir ! &c. See, she comes in splendour beaming 1 , Beauty's queen, and valour's prize; On her brow see glory streaming, While love is sparkling in her eyes. Enter PRINCESS. SOLO PRINCESS, Oh, how sweet thro' billows glancing, Still to watch with charmed eye, Joyous, while the vessel's dancing, Varied landscapes sweeping bye; And still delighted range O'er the entrancing change Where sparkling scenes in order pass, Like visions in a magic glass : Oh, how sweet, &c. John. An humble man, in humble style, His Princess here would entertain; On John of Paris, Lady, smile, (At the name of John of Paris, the Princess starts, and, unobserved by him> looks at a Letter, and a Picture which hangs at her bosom). Nor now his poor request disdain. D 2 2fl JOHN OF PARIS. Cham. I should like that knave to beat. (Apart). How will you his offer treat ? ( To Princess). Prin. Treat it ! Yield to his request, And with joy become his guest. CHORUS, &c. But the worst of all offence is, . &c. SheTems j < w in* alii END OF ACT ! *iOq 8fr won Iliw- woY pinJfiffflifi nt Jisii bfrjoda biir nooons i< 1-JoW-* r JOHN OF PARIS. f 27 .W> .teacl ot over :if bfjJQifo I .w&&> 'il uo^Iiiw v . ACT II. SCENE I. *ii-7 , ^ A Saloon in the Inn. Enter the PRINCESS, with the Letter. Prin. This more resembles the wild plot of a romance, than the dull stratagem of common life in truth, it was well contrived. Let me read again " Disguised, the Prince will meet you on the road from Navarre Beware of John of Paris, for by that name he travels. I send you his por- trait in miniature (examines it). You will now encounter him on equal terms ; and should the affection which you felt in childhood for each other, be confirm 'd, it will much rejoice your brother and your friend, The King!" Thanks, my dear brother, thanks. Shall I apprise the Chamberlain ? No, he would talk too much. I'll keep my secret close (^uts up the Letter}. " The affection we felt in childhood confirmed! 1 ' Alas ! how many scenes, how many feelings has he experienced since then. And tho' the impres- sion he made upon this heart has remained indeli-, ble, mine upon his may have had fiercer trials to encounter glory and ambition ! yet even those cannot extinguish love's pure fire No ! I'll not believe but that his faith is firm. 25 JOHN OF PARIS. )oa a'flfirn sifli . < Jn^IoiY 03 JOB n? RECITATIVE AND SONG PRINCES*?'; No, never, no ! affection's genuine trace, No change can banish, and no lime erase, -bfjuolu sens AIR. When lover's eyes no longer blaze With mingling pledge of mutual truth,, Oft Fancy will in absence raise Fears days, in some dark dungeon, fettered, and alone. Fed. Oh dear ! Fin. A crust your food a stone your pillow, no light to glad your eyes, no hope to cheer your heart. Ped. Pho, pho ! don't talk in that way ; don't go to scare a body it can't be, I'll not believe it Oh ha! ha! ha ! I see how it is, you're a wag, Mr. John's man, you're a queer one, you wanted to frighten me, but it won't do ; I'm up to your rig, ha ! ha ! (Pedrigo finding he makes no. impression on the steady countenance of 'Vincent, suddenly drops his features) Why, you are not in earnest P Tin. Unhappy, miserable man ! (turns away). Ped. O Lord, I'm very ill. I'll go and make an apology ; but its all your doing 'twas you egg'd me on. I'll go and beg pardon if a few months' hard labour, a whipping at the cart's tail, or any such trifle as that, will make atone- ment, I'll receive the favour with gratitude, and henceforth shut my door against all such cus- tomers as (Enter John^ John of Paris ! [Pedrigo, on seeing John, pulls out the Purse, and, as he is on the point of throw- ing it at his feet, checks himself, returns it quietly to his pocket, and exit!] John. Our host seems disturb'd ; what has hap- pened ? Fin. I was induced to check the insolence of his behaviour to the Chamberlain, and he is now gone, big with apprehension for his personal safety, to solicit pardon. John. You have acted properly. Fin. Well, Sir, at length you have seen this far-fam'd beauty. 36 JOHN OF PARIS. John. I have ; but how soon was my transport overwhelm 'd by grief and disappointment. Fin. Disappointment ? John. Have I not much to fear, when from the Chamberlain's report, I know the Princess has already fix'd her choice ? Fin. What then ! will you resign a prize so fair to one unknown without a struggle too re- sign her ? John. Think not so lightly of me hearts like mine are not so soon depress'd the greater the peril, more glorious must be the victory. Have the artists completed the decorations of the garden ? Fin. They have, Sir. John. And is all else prepared ? Fin. All. John. Wait for me without, and remember the motto of thy master's banners " All for Love, all for Honour." [Exit Vincent. SONG JOHN. When the trumpet's loud cry Calls the Hero away, With a heart-rending sigh Love entreats him to stay. " Hark ! the proud foe is near," u Thy true love is here." " Now to battle I go!" She implores him, " Ah! no!" All in vain her reply, For still this was his cry, " While I've life, all for Love, all for Honour !" To the conflict he flew, And his banner wav'd high, But her cheek paler grew, And a tear dimm'd her eye. JOHN OF PARIS. 37 " See the triumph is thine," arnen, MONDAY, MARCH 27, 1815. BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. AUTHOR OF JOHN OF PARIS, FOR ENGLAND; HO ! &C. &.C. THE MUSIC COMPOSED BY MR. WARE. LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHN MILLER, 25, BOW-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN; By B. M'Millan, Btm-Street, Coyent-GardeD. 1815. [Price Two Shillings.} ADVERTISEMENT. NEVER had Manufacturer of a Holiday-piece hia acknowledgments more strongly called for, and In Persia. ZEMBUCA, ACT 1 SCENE L Ail Arcade in the Palace of Zembiica 7%e Gar- dens of the Harem seen beyond; and, in the distance, the River, with the Outskirts of the City- -Tasner, Salic, Malic, with other Slaves, are discovered, with Implements of Gardening, and advance as the Curtain rises. TRIO. When the sun thro* the cypress grove Chequers the dewy glade, The free man warms to life and love We pine beneath the shade. CHORUS. jDrearily beams the light On the man, by man oppressed j Cheerily falls the night, When the slave may sink to rest. TRIO. When the moon rides thro' the skies, Sleep lulls" the captive's pain ; When she sets again, we rise To feel a galling chain. CHORUS. Drearily beams, &c, B 2 ZEMBUCA. Enter MIRZA, with a bundle of Nets, which he bears on a staff across his shoulder. Mirz. So, have I found you at last ? By the faith of a true Mussulman, and a net-maker, you are a precious idle set if Zernbuca finds you at this sport, he'll accompany your music with an instrument but little to your taste. Kat. Ah, Massa Mirza, dat you ? Mirz. Yes, all that's left of me. I'm half melted with the heat of the sun. Here have I been prowling round the garden with a load enough to break the back of a camel, and after all, find you regaling yourselves with a concert, like so many blackbirds in a grove. Kat. We only sing to cheat time. Mirz. Cheat time! you've no business to cheat any body. Kat. Ah, Massa Mirza, if you were slave, and work all day long, you soon find how time would hang. Mirz. But, if I was to sing all day long, I should soon find how the Sultan could hang. Here, take these nets, and string 'em upon the cherry trees, or perhaps Zembuca will string you up instead. (Shouts heard without Slaves take the Nets as KORAC enters). Ko. To your work ! to your work ! Know you not Zembuca comes ? (Slaves -shrink back). 'Begone 1 [Exeunt Slaves. They are too mean to be the agents of his cru- elty ; but I, above the common race of slaves, am picked from out the herd, a chosen tool for villany to work with. Mirz. He seems disturb'd Korac ! 2EMBUCA. $ Kv. How now, fellow ! Mirz. Fellow ! Ko. Mirza ! Honest Mirza, pardon me, I'm angry, agitated Oh, Zembuca, when \vili thy reign of tyranny expire ? Mirz. What has happen'd ? Ko. Another act of cruelty is added to the list another victim Mirz. Another ! Whom ? Ko. Almazaide, the betrothed wife of Selim, is now a prisoner in the palace. Jealous of the rising popularity and power of his general, this hypocrite, Zembuca, has formed a plot to crush his devoted friend. Mirz. Impossible ! Ko. 'Tis true by this time accomplished Selim has met the rebels, and the battle's lost How lost ? by the base contrivance of this tyrant. The supplies which he so long had pro- mised, were, to my knowledge, kept purposely back ; the reinforcements secretly detained, that inevitable defeat might cover the noble name of Selim with dishonour Oh ! 'twas deep laid but his crimes may yet be punished. Mirz. I fear it : who will discover crimes in one so great ? Ko. All the world ; the brighter the lustre of the jewel, the more obvious are the spots that deface it. * Mirz. But who will dare speak of them to one so powerful ? , Ko. I I dare speak of them (March, piano 9 without) but he comes you must not be seen. Mirz. Oh, if the Sultan's to he here, the sooner I am off the better I never wish to be seen in bad company. [Exit. Ko. Zembuca's tyranny increases daily; the B 2 4 ZEMBUCA, pride of power, urged by the fear of losing it, drives him to acts of desperate oppression. Se- lim shall not be his victim ! This paper, which I have hastily written, I must try to get conveyed to him, 'twill warn the devoted youth of the danger that awaits him, from the treachery of him whom he believes his friend. O Zembuca, there is a secret, which once disclosed, hurls thee from the throne thy tyranny pollutes, and (fro? cession ewtersj enough ! (The Guards, with Royal Band, advance and Jill the Stage Officers, and ZEMBUCA), Zem. Give instant orders that the Aga Selim, he who has betrayed our trust, and sold his vic- tory to the rebels, be proscribed throughout the city. Should he dare enter it, ten thousand sequins shall reward the hand that gives hint to my vengeance. See it proclaimed. [Exit Officer, Here I confirm the sentence of his banishment, this shall be delivered by a special messenger. Ko. This writing was well prepared. (%side). Zem. Ah! Korac, (To Guards), Retire, (Exeunt Guards). Now Korac, speak comfort to thy Prince Say, is Almazaide mine ? Ko. Yours ! Almazaide is within the palace. Zem. Then rest my heart in peace. Ko. It will not remember Selim remember her intended husband Allah forbids his heart tq rest in peace, who has destroyed his friend. Zem. Slave ! dar'st thou meafi ? Ko. Even what I spofce. Zem. This from you, whom I have cherish'd as a favorite, exalted as a friend ! Ko. If as a favorite as a friend, you deny my privilege to do you service, by speaking truth ZEMBUCA, 5 in the cause of virtue, seeking to make me great, you have made me base. Zem. Do you defend the Aga ? Ko. I would protect him! Zernbuca, hear me When I became your prisoner, and your servant, I had fallen in battle beneath the arm of your much-injur'd friend, the Aga Selim. I was wounded, and without hope; but compassion rose in the bosom of my conqueror, and scorning to strike his fallen enemy, he preserved me. At his own peril he bore me from from the field in safety, and to yourself resigned me, to be your slave. "Tis true, you lighten'd the chains of ser- vitude, for you found my ministry useful, and I became your confidant remember your confi- dant / -In your presence and in mine, the late Vizier AH expired to his last moments we both were privy, and you now possess the Throne of Persia. I have been faithful, for you had made me your friend, and I felt gratitude. I was your slave too, and therefore bound to secrecy ; but slaves have feeling, which, when tyranny grows wanton with them, can speak in voice of awful admonition to the oppressor. Your com- mands in sorrowing duty I perform, but never never shall the heart of Korac forget its gratitude jto Selim, for the life he saved. Zem. Indeed ! I '11 rid you of the burthen then This paper waits your signature when 'tis .done, give it to my hand again. Ko. I shall obey Fortunate chance ! Could I but send [my own in place of this I must at- tempt it, or the noble Selim's lost. [Exit. Enter ABDALLAH. Ab. The superintendant of the slaves, and purse-bearer to the lower household, waits with- out, to salute your Highness on his appointment. $ ZEMBUCA. Zem. The man who served the late Vizier as jester ? *4b. The same ; but 'tis my duty to forewarn your Highness, that, tho' unfit to fill his for- mer station, he retains a freedom and a levity of speech, that ill becomes a royal presence. Zem. No matter, admit him. [Exit ABDAL. Fools that talk most, deceive the least. I may have employment for him. . Enter BUFFARDO, attended. Zem. A dull visage for a jester Are you a man of merriment ? Buf. No, truly, not I ; your Highness has made me a purse-bearer, and that's a serious business. I was merry only while I had no money. Zem. What is your name? Buf. Buifardo. Zem. And what weighty consideration induced you to change your mode of life ? Buf. 'Tvvas the want of a weighty considera- tion ; my pockets were empty, so was my sto- mach Your Highness has fill'd them both I thank you. Zem. Can you be honest ? Buf, Certainly ; you have made it worth my while. Zem. What can you do? 'Biff. Every thing you bid me. Zem. That shall be proved ; but are you qua^ lified? Buf. For a place at court ? quite. I can take go~od care of myself, make a long speech about nothing, nod my head as if there was something in it, and attend dinners at the shortest notice. Zem. Why did you not apply to be my jester ? ZEM BUG A. # Buf. I knew better There is no want of fools at court. 7jcm. Will you be always in readiness? Buf. When there is any thing to be given away. Zem. I give but little to such as thou art. Buf. If you give only to the wise, your Ma- jesty gives little indeed. Zem. All about my person are wise. Buf. Then you must be very thinly attended j Zeni. Well, I admit you on trial. Buf. Oh, bless you! Zem. Take him hence, and. attire him as be- comes his station Go, fellow, and learn to imi- tate your superiors. Buf. Let me once slip into the robes of office, 111 soon imitate them I'll get a deputy to do my work, but take special care to receive the salary myself. Lead on, slaves. [Exit BUFFARDO, ABDALLAH, &c. (ZEMBUCA speaks with ABDALLAH as KORAC enters at the side, with papers}. Ko. Now, Allah, prosper my design they are superscribed alike ; but, should he read Zem. So, are rny orders executed ? that dispatch Ko* Is here, Sir shall I deliver it ? (Crosses ZEMBUCA, and prepares to change the papers). Zem. Hold ! let me see it. ('KoRAC delivers it, and in his agitation, drops the false paper}. Right ! it contains the doom of Sclim. Let it be forwarded without delay. (Retiring). Ko. All's safe ! (Putting the real paper in his bosom). * ZEMBtTCA, Ab. (Advancing to the paper J. Mighty Sultan! Ko. (Perceiving it). Ah f (Stamps his foot upon it). Zem. What now ? Ab. Here is a paper, Sir. Ko. That that I carelessly let fall. (Picks it up 9 and shews it to ZEMBVCA) Your dispatch. Zem, " To Selim." (Reading). Ko. " Late Aga of the Janissaries" With my official signature. Zem. Tis well. [Exit ZEM. Ko. (To ABDALLAH). Away instantly -for- ward that paper 'tis hy the Sultan's order be- gone. [Exit Attendant. My project has succeeded I have preserved my friend. Prophet of the Just! thy spirit still di^ rectme! [Exit* SCENE II. Interior qfMirzsfs Cottage A large Window in the back A Door near the centre 9 and a Closet on the other side : the whole Apartment pictu- resque, being occupied by the various Implements of Net -making, &c. River and Fortress seen through the Window. [Music]. Enter EBRA, with Mesk and Netting-needle, as at ivork. Ebra. (Throwing down her work). Just mid- day, and Mirza not come home ! Why does he stay ? Whenever he carries his nets to the pa- lace, I am never easy till he returns. He hates Zembuca so cordially, and speaks his mind so 1 freely, that I fear the indiscretion of his tongue 1 ZEMBUCA. 9 may betray the secret workings of his heart. Would he were returned. [MusicJ] Mirz. (As he enters). Wife! Ebra ! Ebra. Ah, my dear Mirza, why did you stay so long ? Mir. To hear the news there's the old work going on at the palace. Ebra. Indeed ! you tremble. Mir. Do I ? 'tis with rage then. The Aga Se- lim is banished> and Almazaide, whom he was to marry when he returned from the wars, penn'd up in the Harem. This Zembuca is the people's scourge, not their blessing; even Korac, his chief friend and favourite, turns upon him at last. Ebra. Mirza, remember, you are only a poor Net-maker: This is no business of yours. Mirz. No business of mine ! 't is every honest man's business, however humble his station, to Set his face against tyranny and oppression. But come, let's to dinner, for I am vex'd and weary. Ebra. It is all prepar'd. (A knock at the Door). Mirz. Who can that be ? Ebra. 'iNs at our door. Miri. Who knocks? Voice. Enquire not, but open, I entreat you. Be speedy, or I am lost ! Ebra. 'Tis the cry of distress. Mirz. The cry of distress ! open the door- [Music.~\ (BRA opens the door, and SELIM enters A Dervises cloak, in which he is wrapped, falls backy and discovers his person. He c 10 ZEMBUCA. leans, exhausted, against the door, which he closes hastily). Selim, the banish r d Aga ! Sel. Be silent ! name me not, I implore you. Merz. Noble Sir, why are you here? know you not the consequence ? Sel. Too well; and well I know the cause. Ebra. Whatever be the cause, we are ho- nour' d by your presence. Joy and welcome to you, Sir! Sel. Joy I must never hope to find, 'till Alma- zaide be restor'd. Korac, by some friendly stra- tagem, apprized me of my danger ; he informed me too, (you best can tell how truly), that should I enter the city, I might find security in Mirza's cottage. Mirz. Did he did Korac say that? His con- fidence has made me proud F Ebra. We rejoice in proving thus our grati- tude ; to Korac's kindness we owe all that we possess. Mirz. How can we serve you ? Sel. By suffering me to remain here 'till my purpose is accomplish'd. Mirz. The house is yours ; and for want of a better, I'll be your body-guard. Ebra. And I, your servant. Sel. Heaven will reward you I cannot. [Shouts heard without . J [Music.'] Ebra. Is the door fast ? (SELiu rushet towards it } lays his hand upon the bolt, and with the other screens him- self from the sight of the croivd, who are seen through the window, surrounding the Cryer). ZEMBUCA. It Ebra. 'Tis the Cryer listen ! (MiRZA and EBRA stand apart near the front). Cryer. " Take notice, all good Musselmen, M that his Sublime Highness the Sultan Zem- " buca, having heard that Selim; the banished *' Aga, is now concealed within the city, pro- " claims, through me, sentence of death to all " who may conceal him; and to those who t may deliver him to the hands of justice, a re- M ward of ten thousand sequins." (The mob shout, and follow the Cryer SE- LIM lifts his arms in despair, and watches the hesitation of MIRZA and EBRA). Mirz. Death to those who may conceal him ! , Ebra. A reward for his discovery ! Mirz. Ten thousand sequins ! in old age a certain comfort. Ebra. For my poor children what a change ! from poverty to splendid independence ! (Catches the eye of MIRZA, who glances towards herj~ Mirza ! Mirz. Ebra! (Advancing toiuards her). Sel. By Heaven, they hesitate ! Mirz. Can those riches give comfort to our age, that have been obtained in our youth by the destruction of a fellow- creature ? Ebra. Can that wealth ever prosper, which is extracted from the groans, perhaps the blood, of a wretched captive ? Never ! Mirz. Impossible! Ebra. Yet 'tis an immense sum ; and for us Mirz. It cannot purchase happiness our days would pass Ebra. In unavailing repentance. Mirz. Our nights; Ebra. In agony, unutterable. Yet think,' c 2 12 ZEMBUCA. Mirz. I am resolv'd. Ebra. Then Selim is is Mirz. In safety ! Ebra. Oh ! I am happy (Falls into MIRZA'S arms}. Sel. Bless them, Allah ! Yet, reflect, this may lead you into danger, Mirz. You are in danger, and I shall not re- sign the chance of doing good, for certain evil. Sel. But, be cautious ; should your zeal in my behalf betray you Mirz. Fear not, noble Sir I'll mingle with the crowd, and bring you further information speedily. Ebra, should danger stir while I am absent, remember the secret closet. You un- derstand, Ebra. I do. Mirz. And above all, betray no apprehension. Ebra. Rely on my discretion taught by the example of my dear Mirza, I feel confident of success, and fearless of danger. Mirz. The innocent always feel so Now let Zembuca, in his pride of power, envy the feel- ing of a poor Net-maker. (MIRZA exits at Door SELIM and EBRA at the side). [Music]. SCENE III. Inside the Palace. Enter BUFFAKDO in his neiv Dress, followed ly Slaves, who all chatter round him. .Slaves. Ah! Buffardo, Buffardo ! Massa Buf- fardo ! ZEMBUCA. IS Buf. Silence, I say, silence! (Slaves pause). Hem ! Now let me inform you, who, and what I am. Kat. Ah, we know very well You, Massa BufFardo you great man, you purse-bearer, and pay us for work. Buf. Yes, I am appointed your whipper-in, and shall pay you for idleness look here! (hold- ing up a Whip). Here's my badge of authority (Slaves draw back). Why, you don't seem pleas'd instead of welcoming your new master with smiles, your faces are all as long, and as black as a winter's night have you no respect ? Kat. Oh, yes, Massa we plenty of respect. Buf. Plenty, have you ? You. take care not to part with any of it, you havn't decreased your original stock on my account why don't you bend, you stiff-neck'd rascals ; have you lived at Court, and not learned common politeness? (Slaves all bow).* Ah ! that's all proper, that's as it should be Now then, away to your employ- ment ! abscond ! fly ! \Rxeunt Slaves. Poor devils ! to be sure it would be something out .of my pocket, but, if I was a Sovereign, curse me if I would not abolish that system altogether, and have this insignia of slavery burnt by the common hangman ! (Throwing away the Whip). Now, after I have kiss'd hands on- my appoint- ment, I'll go and visit the blue-eyed Ebra, the baggage jilted me for a Net-maker I'll try if she'll refuse me now it isn't every woman can resist fine clothes, a full purse, and this figure ! ZEMBUCA; Enter ZEMBUCA, followed lij KORAC, Zem. Bring him before us ! Xo. Mirza 1 Mirza detained ! I'll answer with my life for that man's honesty ! Dread Sir, re- member hpw many you have dismiss'd already, the hopes of your reward induce these slaves to seize on all, without discrimination. Zem. I will examine him at all events let him appear. Ko. (Aside.) Now, Mirza, all must depend on you. [MiRZA is brought in by Guards^] Zem. Are you the Net- maker, whose name is Mirza ? Mirz. Mirza is my name, and I'm a Net- maker. Zem. Where do you dwell ? Mirz. At present in Zembuca's palace I'd ra- ther dwell at home. Zem. Where is your home ? Mirz. At a hut, on the banks of the river. Zem. Speak without equivocation. Mirz. Why should I speak otherwise ? Zem. Do you know who, and what I am ? Mirz. Thoroughly. Zem. Do you know Selim ? ' Mirz. Still better. Zem. Then you will not deny him ? Mirz. Wherefore should I ? he is virtuous, up right, and just I am proud to acknowledge all such. Zem. Tell me where he now is ? Mirz. Where I am under the protection of Proyidence ! ZEMBUCA. 15 Zem. You answer boldly. Mirz. Because I have never done an act to be asham'd of. Zem. I am told Selim is concealed by your means ; if, therefore, he does not appear within twelve hours, your life shall answer it. Mirz. It will not. Zem. How ! Mirz. If you think by my means he may be discover'd, you will not dispatch me till you get the secret. Zem. Insolent reptile ! convey him from my presence. Mirz. I thank your Highness that's the great- est favor you can do me. Zem. Korac, convey him to prison. Mirz. A prison ! me to prison ! you'll not sleep the sounder for that my wife and children's cries will ring upon your ears, and vibrate to your heart ! Look that you hear them not* The prop that supported a poor man's dwelling, you have deprived them of. Look, that your own palace stands the firmer for it. Zem. Korac to your care I confide him see him well secured (KoRAC shews signs of joy, and Exit with MIRZA and Guards). 'Tis plain, this man's poverty could not resist so tempting a reward ; but to detain him till to- morrow, will assist my purpose with the gentle Ebra, Buffardo ! BUPFARDO .enters. Buf. Here I am, most mighty Sultan ! I've put on the peacock's feathers, and I flatter my- self I shan't disgrace my calling. 16 Z-EMH-BCA. Zem. I am about to try that Listen ! t have just sent to prison a man i>pmed Mirza. Buf. Mirza! what, Mirza the Net-maker ? Zem. You know^ him, then ? Buf. I've heard of him This is lucky, f shall have Ebra all to myself. Pray what may be his offence ? Zem. He claims a fight in her, whose charms are worthy my possession. Buf. What, Ebra ? What, his wife ? Oh, lord! Zem. Do you know her too ? Buf. Slightly, slightly, a sort of how-d'ye- /lo, and good-bye acquaintance. Zem. When last 1 took my rounds in disguise about the city, I beheld her for the first and only time, but her beauty still remains impress'd on jny imagination. Go, therefore, as my emis- sary, and prevail on her to return with you ,-ipecretly to the Harem. Buf. Your Highness's Seraglio must be but indifferently stock'd, to be thus smitten with a poor Net-maker's wife. Zem. No remarks! Depart! and as you succeed for me, so you will best serve yourself. ^ [Exit ZEMBUCA. Buf. What a devil he is after the girls ! Why, he's worse than I am, the very morsel too with which I was going to regale myself. No matter, it shall be my turn by and by. Hang 'me if I don't have a Seraglio of my own, and strut among my beauties as grand as the best bantam of the brood. [Exit BUFFARDOV ' - ZEMBUCA. Yl SCENE IV. The Net-maker's Cottage. EBRA and SELIM discovered. Set. Ebra, kind Ebra! do not feel thus alarm 'd. Ebra. How can I feel otherwise? he promis'd to return immediately, and now the sun's last ray gleams on the towers of the fortress. Set. Dismiss your fears had your husband been suspected, they would long ere this have search'd the house, and dragg'd me hence. Ebra. That they shall never do ; I have yet means to baffle the strictest scrutiny attend ! That closet is as deep within the wall as it pro- jects beyond it iMirza made it in the last war, to conceal our little property in the centre is a false back which opens by a spring See ! (As she opens it, a knock heard at the Door). Ah! 'tis Mirza! SeL Stay it may not be Mirza. Ebra. Who is there ? Buf. Open the door, and you'll see I'm a messenger from the Sultan ! (Without). Ebra. From the Sultan ! [Music]. (She opens the Door, after making a sign to SEUM, who enters the Closet). Enter BUFFARDO. Now, Sir, what is your business ? tytf. Business! Do you take me for a trades- man ? I have just been made an ambassador I'm a man of pleasure ! p IB Ebra. Sir ! you you why, surely *tis Buf- fardo ! Buf. Oh yes, it's Buffardo sure enough. Don't wonder at her not knowing me, poor .thing ; for since I've put on the robes of office, I hardly know myself. Ebra. 'Tis plain no ill has befallen Mirza, or he would be the first to tell it me. (Aside). Buf* You are astonish'd, hey ? Now, you see what you've lost by refusing me for that noodle of a Net-maker - 9 a fellow without talents ; not at all fit for office. Ebra. Quite as fit as a fellow who did nothing but ride a horse from morning till night rbtmd his father's mill. Buf. Gently, gently, if you please, Mrs. Ebra ; don't talk of what I was ; think of what I am- we have no memory at Court for what we have been, Ebra. Court, ha! ha! You at Court ? Buf. The first man in it; and I bring ycnfan invitation to be second favourite. Ebra. What does he mean ? Me ! Buf. Yes, you the sparks from your eyes have caught the tincler of the Sultan's heart, and lighted up such a blaze, that he says nobody can put it out but yourself! But, why don't you ask me to sit down ? are these your "manners ? Ebra. If I coirld but keep him engag'd till Mirza returns I'll bring you a seat directly^ BufFardo ; and what's better, something to eat. Buf. Ay, do. Ebra. If I could but detain him till Mirza ar r i ves (Aside) , and Exit. Buf. I mus'n't tell her about Master Mirza, or I shall never get her out of the house. No- body on the watch, I hope but I thought I heard two voices as.I eater'd A closet ! (Opens the Closet^ ivhich appears empty). ZEMBUCA. 19 *^a t.i ^ - EBRA enters, with a Seat. .. Ebra. What are you doing there ? he surely doesn't suspect Why don't you help me with the table ? Is this your court-breeding ? Buf. Beg your pardon, beg your pardon, upon my honour but, really, rny head's so full of stare affairs",* you must excuse rne. [_Miisic*\. (They bring on Table, &c J Ah, ah ! this looks \vell-thisisall right. (Seats himself). Won't you pick a bit ? Ebra. Not till Mirza returns. Buf. No then you'll have a devil of an ap- petite the next time you eat. (Aside). (SELIM appears at the Closet). Ebra. Now tell me the meaning of all your fine speeches about the Sultan. Buf. Why, the meaning is, that Zemtjpca thinks you just as tempting as I do th'is-chteferen, and wants you to return with me ta the Seraglio ; therefore you had better get yourself ready ; and by the time you are dress'd to your liking, I shall be sufficiently refreshed to walk back with you. (JVhile BUPFARDO is eating, SELIM is writ- ing on a paper), Ebra. Impudent coxcomb! but I'll match him. (Sees SELIM beckoning, sJic takes the paper, arid reads) " Agree to his desire, and I will go " in your place, disguis'd in the Dervise habit. " which before conceaVd me 1" Buf. (Eating). Well, what do you say ? Will you do as you are desired ? Ebra. 1 uill! makes signs of acknoivledgment), D2 *0 jgEMBUCA. Buf. That's right it isn't every day that such good things fall, as it were, into a person's mouth. (Eating). Ebra. But the voice that alone will betray. (Aside).. JBuf. And, if you can but contrive to hold your tongue so long, and muffle yourself up in a cloak, nobody will see, or hear you so you needn't be afraid of your character. I assure you, Zembuca has a great regard for you in that respect. Ebra. Why, to be sure, it is a great tempta- tion ; but I'm afraid when I get there, you'll only make a fool of me. Buf. No, no, I'll take care of that ; one of my trade's quite enough. Ebra. Then, if I were to go Buf The Sultan would give you as warm an embrace, as I do this jng of liquor. (Drinking), Ebra. Well, then, I'll put on the cloak of an old Denise that sometimes lodges here. Buf. That's a good thought of yours. Do, put it on, and Ml drinKL-'* Success to the sham Dtrvise, and may his cloak answer every ime#- tion of the wearer." (Drin(s). Ebra. Thank you, Buffardo, thank you hear* tily. Buf. But make haste, or by the time you are disguis'd as a Dei vise, I shall be disguis'd in liquor. Ebra. Don't look at rne while I put on my dress, Buf. O, no decency, decency, my dear ! Ebra. When I say " Ready !" you may look, but I shall not speak another word after (Pause) Ready ! Buf. So am I. (Rising). Come, that's the most ZEMBUA. yt substantial joke I've bad to-day. (He sees SBLIM in disguise, EBRA having entered the Closet). ~By the beard of Mahomet, you look a strapper in that dress : but its no wonder, I'm grown very high myself since I got into the road to prefer- ment so, come along, iny love come aUjng, my charmer. [Exeunt^ SCENE V. '*"' r ^ 7 n ; Interior of the Palace. Enter KORAC. Ko. Oncemcire, for the last time, I'll probe Zrmbuca's heart ! If any spark of honour ye* remain, I'll rouse it to a flame; but, should I find him lost indeed to every sense of feeling and of shame, I may behold his fall without a pang. . Enter BUFFARDO, conducting SELIM. . \. Buf. This, way, this way ; now, if his high mightiness the Sultan doesn't say* I've done, the thing neatly, I say he's no judge of an Ambassa- dorthat's all. Ko. Buffardo ! who hast thou conducted to this forbidden spot ? Know you not the pu irish- men t ? Buf. Hold your tongue; its only a tit-bit for -the Sultan. Selim. Korachere! Could I discover myself ! Buf. (To SELIM) That's right imftare the gruff voice of a man, and you'll not be di^sco- ver'd. This is a worthy Dervise, come ^to~ad- vise with the Sultan * ij ^ (While BUFFARDO turns to KORAC, , . vpens. the Cloak , ., and discloses Scarf drops from the folds) . 22 ZMBUCA. Ko. Ah ! is it so ? Buf. Yes, it is so indeed you may well be surprised at seeing. such a person here Bless your $oul, its only the little blue-eyed Ebra! Zembuca has taken a fancy to her, and made me- plenipotentiary on the occasion. Ko. I comprehend your companion would attend on Alrnazaide. ^SELIM bows). Buf. Ah ! that's a very good excuse. Ko. Come, I'll lead the stranger in ; Zembuca is in his closet, where no one but myself is privi- leged to enter. Buf. Ah! now I've done the work, you want to touch the reward hey ? Ko. Do not believe it. I promise, that what- ever recompense Zembuca may think you merit, shall be yours alone. &uf. Well, go along with him, Ebra, and don't tremble so bless you, the danger's over now. (SELIM crosses ta KORAC.) Korac will soon shew you the person you came to see won't you, Korac ? Ko. That I will, be confident. \_Exeunt KORAC, with SELIM. Buf. Come, I think the Sultan will shower his rewards upon me pretty thick for that job ! What have we 'here ? A scarf. (Picking up the Scarf which SELIM dropt). A General's scarf! Here's more luck then Selim was in the cot- tage, and this has stuck in the folds of Ebra's cloak. I'll be after him directly if I should find him ten thousand sequins! and no fees to pay Oh Lord ! 'twill make a man of me ten thousand sequins ! [Exit. [Music. 1 ZEMBUC2U 2& SCENE VI. A splendid Apartment in the Seraglio Steps ascend to tin Archiuay in the centre, through '\vhich appear a Balcony and Veranda Dark The front is brilliantly illuminated Lively Music heard, and A\mazaide 9 splendidly dressed, advances from the Feranda. As she closes the Curtains with which the Archway is hung, the Music ceases. Aim. To escape is hopeless ! the veranda leads into the gardens of the Harem, surrounded by walls and lined with sentinels here then I must await my destiny yet think not, Zembuca, these glittering toys, these false and fleeting pleasures can ever win rne to thy arms ! Oh, Selim ! Se- lim ! fly to the rescue of the wretched Alma- zaide leave me not to wear the garb of vice, while virtue swells my heart. Enter KORAC, from Feranda. Ko. Alone ! 'tis fortunate! Aim. Who art thou ? Ko. The friend of Almazaide. Aim. Almazaide has no friend, but Allah and her Selim. Ko. Yes, one more Korac. Nay, doubt me not Selim is at hand, in safety, and unknown. Aim. Selim ! Selim, said you ? Noble-minded man ! what hast thou risk'd to save me ? Ko. That which thy noble Stlim gave my life ! For his sake, for your own, be careful ; one incautious word would now destroy us be patient be confident and when the time best serves Korac the slave, shall make this tyrant tremble ! 24 ZEMBUCA. Aim. Oh, fear me not ; bat where, where ie my lord, my life? Ko. He waits at the veranda ; I have removed the guard, and will conduct him to you. (Going.) [Bugle heard ivithout."] Aim. Undone ! undone ! it is the Sultan* Ko. Hush! 'tis too late; I cannot now ap- prise him of his danger,. [Bugle again, and Music without."] Be calm, and leave the rest to me. [Music louder.'] Dancers advance, and Attendants Lastly, ZEMBUCA. Zem. By Mahomet, she blooms as fair as when my eager love first sued to win her smiles! Beau- teous Almazaide, let all remembrance of the past be buried in oblivion, and live henceforth for joy, and for thy Prince ! Aim. Who can absolve the pledge of faith, who can absolve the plighted vows to Allah, and my affianced husband? Zem. Still this obdurate folly ! Aim. Oh, Prince! restore him, and I bless thee ! (Kneeling) . Zem. You know the terms accept them. Aim. Never ! My heart is Selim's, but my honor is mine own ! still shall you find me firm in my faith to him invulnerable to thee. Zem. Presumptuous girl ! yet, even in her anger lovely ! Come, haughty fair-one, mar not the present hour with frowns, but weigh the difference between a vassal's grovelling love, and Zembuca's favour. ( ZEMBUCA advances to ALMAZAIDE she catches -the eye of KORAC, and takes the ZEMBUCA. 25 proffered hand of the Sultan, who leads her to an Ottoman, which has been placed by the Attendants at the side). JSro.,,That*s welL Now could I but reach the veranda, and prevent his entrance. Zem. Korac, stand near us. fKoRAC looks anxiously towards the Arch- way, bows, and crosses to ZEMBUCA). Commence your revelry. [A Ballet is here performed.'] Zem. 'Tis well ! give me the cup. (The Attendants step forward with Wine The Dancers are so dispersed, as to face the Sultan, and to leave the Archway ex- posed. At the instant ZEMBUCA turns and offers the Cup to ALMAZAIDE, sfie utters a cry of terror, and falls lack. KORAC springs up the Steps, and forces bach SELIM, who has suddenly appeared, and throwing open the remaining part of the Drapery, turns to answer the surprise of ZEMBUCA). Zem. Why this alarm ? Ko. The heat of the apartment, nothing more -a deadly paleness overspread her features, and I hastened to remove the cause. Zem. She faints ! look to her. Ko. Those curtains now withdrawn, all will be well. Aim. Surely I beheld the features of Ko. Of Zembuca behold, he is still here ! Aim. I am unused to midnight revelry -so please you, I would be alone. Zem. Speak, and you command. I leave you to repose let all retire. (All retire). 26 ZEMBUGA. But avoid reflections on the past ; wear rtOw Zembuca ever in thy heart. [Exit, Aim. I could not have been deceiv'd. [Music KOKAC advances to ike Archway.] SELIM enters. Sel. Almaznide ! Aim. It is it is my Selim ! (They fly to each other's embrace. Music increases to violence, and ZEMBUCA heard). Zem. (Without). Let none pass in, or out the fortress ! Ko. Zembuca's voice ! Aim. Fly, Selim, fly to the veranda! Ko. Tis in vain, the garden is beset by troops. Zem. (Without). Let every post be doubly guarded this is the Scarf of Selim ! Ab. (Without). We found it in the apart- ment of Buffardo. Zem. (Entering). Indeed, treacherous villain ! then 'twas he admitted A stranger ! seize on the traitor, [Musick^ (They secure him his Cloak falls off). Selim ! Sel. Ay, deceitful tyrant 1 Selim, thy injured friend! Come, lead me to my fate ! Thy tyranny may triumph for a while, but the day of retribution will ere long arrive, and hurl destruction on thy guilty head. Zem. Drag him to his death. Ko. (Aside to ALMAZAIDB). 'Tis our last hope ! ZEMBUGA. $7 {Draws his scymitar). The chains of death are on him. Zem. Korac, I will not trust thee, thou art treacherous ! Ko. Not so I too have been deceiv'd. Zem. Away ' to prison ! Ko. To prison ! Aim. Spare, oh spare my Selim, and let Al- mazaide die ! {Music.'] (ALMAZAIDE struggles to accompany SELIM, who runs- to the veranda armed men rush forward, and prevent his escape ALMAZAIDE Jaints in the arms O/ZEM- BUCA, and KORAC raises his scymitar over the head of SELIM Curtain falls) . END OP ACT I. ACT II. SCENE I. The Net-Maker's Cottage. EBRA discovered at a Table A Lam Effect of Moon-light through the Window, [Music expressive.] (EBRA listens Music ceases), Ebra. I am again deceiv'd ! each step I hear, exhausted patience makes me believe my hus- band's- What can have happen'd ? I dread, I fear the worst ; but this suspense is terrible~ Oh, my poor Mirza 1 the Aga too : no tidings yet of him~-perhaps they are alike involved, and-** (KoRAC appears at the Window). Ko. 'St ! 'st ! Ebra. Again ! I could not be mistaken ! Ko. Fear not* 'tis Korac (Looking in). Ebra. Welcome, welcome ! KORAC enters. Yet Mirza, but I dare not inquire*-^- Ko. Are you alone ? Ebra. Quite. Ko. Then all is safe- Advance ! MIRZA enters. Mirz. Ebra ! my dear Ebra ! Ebra. Oh, joy! joy! (running to him). But how ! tell me, where is the Aga ? ZEMBFCA. 29 Mirz. In the tyrant's fangs. Ebra. But you Mirz. Have been rescued by Korac. Ko. Quick, close the window (EBRA closes it) We have no time to waste in explanation Selim must be released 'tis a desperate enter- prise ; but with my aid, Mirza must attempt it. Mirz. Willingly. Ebra. (Advancing). No, no! I have endured too much already While we may in safety, Jet us quit this place for ever. Mirz. And leave our friends to perish ! Ebra. Oh ! Korac if it was in your power to release my husband, why not, at the same mo- ment, have given Selim liberty ? Ko. Mirza was in my custody, and his escape will not be known till day- break ; but Zembuca (though still secure in my fidelity) knows me for the friend of Selim, and with jealous eye watches me at every turn. The Aga's prison lies in that, part of the fortress which overhangs the river ; and, to reach it undiscovered, was impossible. Mirz. How then do you propose ? Ko. Pass in a boat across land on the oppo- site shore, and I will meet you on the walls. Mirz. It shall be done. Ebra. But, how to scale them ? Mirz. Easily, leave that to me, with your as- sistance I have enough netting in the loft above, to ascend a minaret. Ko. 'Tis well ; but that I may be sure of your approach, let your boy chaunt the Boatman's Evening Song meanwhile, and 'tis a serious charge, you, Ebra, must convey this packet to the Shiek Mohammed . (Giving packet) . Ebra. He that now commands the Janissaries ? Ko. The same 5 he lies encamped eastward of SO ZEMBUCA. the city. The contents of that will urge the sol- diers with resistless motives to espouse the cause of Selim, and ere the sun appears, Zembuca falls, unpitied and despised, and we are slaves to tyranny no longer. Ebra. Indeed! that hope inspires my heart with more than woman's courage. (KoRAC, having opened the Door, returns). Ko. Stay, one thing I had forgot the tower that flanks the northern entrance, is the weakest part of the fortress bid him strike there. Ebra. I will be sure on't. (BUFFARDO takes advantage ofKoRAc's open- ing the Door, enters, and conceals himself behind the Curtain). Ko. Farewell! success be with you. Ebra. Oh, doubt it not ! Success must be with those who fight for freedom. [Exit KORAC. (BUFFARDO being exposed, runs behind the Curtain). Mirz. Now follow, and help me to prepare ; the tide ebbs fast, and we have no time to lose. Ebra. I am ready; come. (During her dialogue with KORAC, EBRA se- cures the Packet, and Exit, following MIRZ A BUFFARDO then sneaks forward). Buf, Oh yes, 'tis Selim, sure enough any fool can see that, though he has drest himself up in Ebra's clothes. The dog looks well enough in petticoats, and if their voices were not, so dif- ferent, I might have been deceived. . But how cajne SVlirza here? Oh'. I suppose the Sultan prefers the company of his wife Here 'he' is again. (Retreats). ZEMBUCA. 31 Enter MIRZ A with a Bag EBRA dragging a heap of Netting, to which is attached loops. Mirz. Now, Ebra, place it in the bag. Buf. Ebra ! Why it is Ebra ! then, who the devil have I taken to the palace ? (Aside). Ebra. I must be careful not to entangle it. Mirz. But how did you contrive to get Selim into the Seraglio ? Ebra. Oh- ha! ha! I sent him, muffled up in the Dervise dress, with that fool Buffardo. (BUFFARDO expresses amazement). Mirz. Indeed! then the scarf by which he was discovered, must have dropt by accident; it was found in Buffardo's apartment, whom they search'd for in vain. His punishment, at best, would have been a sound whipping, and the loss of his ears; but, having left the palace, 'tis a chance now if he escapes the bowstring. (BUFFARDO expresses great horror). jSbra. Poor fellow ! Then I suppose, by this time, he is too anxious about his neck, to think much of hi sears. Mirz. Zembuca swears vengeance on him, and the only chance t9 escape, is to return, and prove his innocence Ah ! (MiRZA goes to the Closet, and takes a Po- niard from it As he closes the door 9 he sees BUFFARDO'S legs beneath the Curtain, and starts forward). Ebra. Mirza ! (Amazed at the action). Mirz. Hush ! we are observ'd, betray'd ! We fliust leave the house instantly. {A distant Drum heard), 32 JZEMBUCA. Ebra. A drum ! (In terror, looking througk the Lattice). Ah! I see guards approaching. Buf. Guards! Oh lord ! Mirz. Guards! be silent; no doubt in search of that fool Buffardo 'tis no affair of ours. I must hasten to the boat Come, wife, 'tis a clear night, and you shall along with me. Be sure you lock the door, fast bind, safe find, they say ; -so, stick to the old proverb. (During the latter speech, MIRZA places the Poniard in his Belt throws the Bag over his shoulder, and is assisted eagerly by EBRA, who glances her eye round the room, in search of the object of their alarm They go out t ' and lock the door). [The Drum heard at intervals.^ Buf. (After attempting to open the door, ad- vances). Fast bind, fast find blocks and bow- strings! they'll find me ! Oh, Mahomet! if you ever took pity on a miserable Mussulman, now's your time- they are coming this way coming for my ears ! perhaps, for my head ! Oh, if I could but transfer my punishment with my place, how* gladly would I deliver up the seals of office ! [Loud knock Music."] (BUFFARDO rushes up the Stairs The lattice- work of the Window and Door are forced, with a crash HASEM enters with Guards By his direction, they separate in search While he examines the Apartment, BUFFARDO drops across th$ Window). Has. (Seeing him rise and run). He escapes ! (Guards enter). Follow, follow to the bridge !- (They rush after in pursuit). [Music, hurrying and e ZEMBUCA. 33 SCENE II. The Shore beneath the Walls of the Fortress A Platform, with a Watch- tower The Wa- ter-gate of the Fortress in the middle dis- tance, beyond which, other parts of the Build- ing A bright Moon-light A Sentinel on Guard. After Symphony, which commences as the Scene is disclosed, VOICE* PIANO. Pull away, pull away! the stream is deep; But labour once over, I soundly sleep; Pull away, pull away! the tide to save; My bark must fly swift o'er the rippling wave. [KoRAC appears on the Walk, j -Sent. Who's there? Ko. A friend. Sent. The word? Ko. Zembuca ! (Music The Relief enters Guard is re- lieved, during which the Boat has ap- proached the Shore As the Relief departs, the Boatman's Song is resumed in a louder strain) . My voice shall keep time to the murmuring oar. My song be re-echoed from shore to shore; And gaily I'll cut thro' the sparkling foam, And the moon-beams will light me in safety home. Ko. Tis the signal! Tis Mirza ! Once past tHe Sentinel, he is safe. * One stanza of the Boatman's Song omitted after the first repreaenta- tln. P 84 ZEMBUCA. [The Boat appears behind the Platform. ~\ All is yet well he lands advances. fMiRZA appears ^& the Sentinel makes a turn on the Parade, he observes him). Sent. How's this 1 a stranger beneath the walls ! Stand ! who are you ? Mirz. A friend. Sent. What are you? Mirz. A fisherman. Sent. What have you there ? Mirz. The produce of my labour. Sent. I must see it. Mirz. Impossible. Sent. How* Mriz. The Officer of the Janissaries told me I might pass unmolested. Sent. Indeed ! then you know the watch -word Let me hear it. Mirz. The watch-word ! S'death ! I know it not Korac forgot to apprize me. Sent. The word, I say ! Ko. Zembuca, (From the Wall), -(MiRZA looks around amazed). Sent. What said you ? Mirz. Didn't you hear v ? Zem Zembuca Sent. Right you may pass. (MiRZA observes KORAC, who leaves the Wtdl A shot is heard without , repeated at a distance Drum, at the sound of which, the Sentinel rum out. MIRZA throws the Netting over the Battlement, and ascends the wall, the Net serving as a ladder As he draws it after him, BUFFARDO rushes across the Stage, looking bach in terror, as if pursued. As the Guards enter, MIRZA having drawn up the Net, disappears from the wall, and the Music which has accom- ZEMBUCA. : 35 panied the preceding Action, bursts into the fol- lowing) CHORUS*. Follow, follow, follow near, The rash intruder must be here ; Concealed in dusky shade he lies- Escape is vain 5 the traitor dies ! Follow, follow, follow, now The Outlaw to his fate must bow ; Success will soon reward our pains, And his reward be death or chains. Follow, follow ! [Exeunt. SCENE III. (fVithin the tValls> Steps of rough stone-work running up to the left, as leading to the Ram- parts a small, but heavy and deep Portal seen in the Wall, the whole exhibiting marks of de- cay, but great strength. The report of a mus- ket heard, and BUFPARDO instantly darts thro" the door, and secures it after him). [Music.'] Buf. I am just in time I heard the gullet whiz close to my head ! A purse-bearer never ran so fast before I have sprain'd my back jumping from Mirza's cock-loft, and have been hunted like a badger, by a pack of If that damn'd fellow with the long whiskers had fir'd a moment sooner, I should have had it. 'Tis well I secured a retreat, but, if I don't see Zembuca, and explain this blunder before I'm caught by one of these savages, I shall be strangled by mis- take Hey ! * This Chorus omitted after the first representation, owing to the length of the piece. F2 36 ZEMBUCA. r> KORAC enters. BUFFARDO listens in terror. Ko. Not here ! J heard the guard in loud con* fusion on the shore, if they should take him, he'll hang alive, food for vultures. Buf. O Lord ! Ko. What noise ? I heard him ! he must have passed the wall this way, perhaps. Buf. Hang'd alive! food for vultures ! what's to be done ? If 1 stir, I'm lost if I stay, I'm found directly Another !-^-it's all over. Enter MIRZA. Mirz. The murmuring of the breeze deceived me, or I heard his voice, he couldn't have left this spot Now, my good poniard, I may need thy service. Ko 'Tis he ! I was not mistaken, (advancing , MIRZA lifts his poniard). Hold ! 'tis thy friend ! (At this moment, BUFFARDO being on the ground between KORAC and MIRZA, he exclaims), Buf. Hold ! hold, I beseech youI'll take it as a particular favor. Oh ! Korac, my dear friend I never was so glad to be a dear friend in all my life. Ko Buffardo here! Buf. Aye, I am here, I wish I was any where else I'm on the look-out for the rascal that has just past the walL Mirz. Indeed 1 (Again raising his poniard). Buf Now don't don't flourish that spiteful- looking thing about, x Ko. You ! you in search of ZEMBUCA. 37 Euf. Yes to be sure Why you don't suspect that all this hue and cry was after me, do you ? Mirz. Oh, 'tis evident, the fool betraysvhim- self. Buf. Hey ! Why, its Mirza, as I'm alive ! Ko. What said you ? Buf. Why, I said it it's a mercy I'm alive! I wish you would not be so snappish. Ko. Come, follow to the palace. Buf. To the palace with - Ko. A witness, who can swear to the person who just now created this alarm. Mirz. Ay, he who enter'd that door. Buf. A witness ! what did he see then ? It's time for me to be off, here's some mischief brewing O, if I could but turn the tables on my dear friend Korac, and recover my ascendancy in Zembuca's Cabinet, who knows but I may live to be Prime Vizier, after all. [Exit BUPFARDO. Ko. Now then away with speed ; near at hand I have provided means that will pass you unques- tion'd, unnotic'd, even to Selim's prison. Mirz, Which way does it lie ? Ko. I will conduct you > Oh, Mahomet ! should the efforts of thy servant in the cause of justice, be successful now, Korac's measure of content is full, [Ex&mt. i br SCENE IV. A Prison. In the. back a Gallery, about half way up the IVally with strong bars of iron interwove with Spears, beneath 'which, stands a Table'"; on the '.sAwight, a grated Entrance in an angular direction from the Gallery to a Column / on the opposite side, SELIM is discovered, chained Jwwz'c 38 ZEMBUCA. The Spear- Guard appears in the Gallery, with Basket, Lamp, &c. He looks down on SELIM as he passes After a pause, ALMAZAIBJE is seen in the Gallery. Aim. I can go no further terror and fatigue oppress me, and I faint, sink. (She leans against the bars). (SELIM starts, and listens). Ah ! I hear the clank of chains Perhaps the chains of Selim. Sel. That voice ! my name, too ! I could not dream it 'tis she ! 'tis Almazaide ! Aim. Selim i O, my dear Selim ! let me fly to your release! Sel. Impossible! My chains are lock'd, the entrance is secured return, return, I charge you; if you are found endeavouring to assist me, they will destroy us both. Aim. When danger threatens Selim, where should Almazaide be found, but sharing his cala- mity, and striving t@ avert it ? No ! I will not re- turn ; if we may not exist together, at least we'll die so. Sel. How have you contrived to reach this dreary mansion ? Had you accomplices ? Aim. I had, courage and true faith ! they may befriend me -still confident that I could not escape, Zembuca left me in the Harem unat- tended ; I took advantage of the darkness I have followed the footsteps of the Spear-Guard thro* the ma^es of this hideous labyrinth, and ' Sel. Hush ! [Music."] (Guard appears at entrance, en- ters, and leaves the Gate ajar while he de- posits Lamp on Table). ZEMBUCA. 39 Guard. See, I have brought you some refresh- ment. Set. Repose will now refresh me more than food these chains prevent my sleeping You have the key, and may release me from their weight. Guard. I have the key, but, to use it as you require, is not in my orders -(Hangs it on a hook above the Table) . Sel. Does compassion interfere with duty ? You were taught otherwise, when under my com' mand. Guard. A brave soldier must not feel compas- sion. Sel. No soldier can be truly brave without it ! Guard. Zembuca thinks differently he may be wrong, but I dare not disobey him. (While speaki?ig, he takes the Lamp and hangs it against the column opposite to SELIM ALMAZAIDE is seen reaching to the Key, but withdraws her arm when the Guard turns). -~Come, taste your bread, and eat heartily, while I prepare my mattrass. Ere long, I shall be for guard upon the ramparts. (Music Guard retires beneath the Gallery, andprepares his matt ras During this, A L- MAZAIDE gets one of the Spears, reaches the Key, and drops it into the Jug, SELIM observing her). Guard. (Returning). Come, eat. Sel. I cannot eat, my mouth is dry and feverish. Guard. Then drink the contents of this jug will com fort yon. (Music After giving it, he goes to the op- posite side, and trims the Lamp). 40 ZEMBUCA. Has it reviv'd you ? ^SELIM has taken the Key from the Jug $ and unlocked his Chains}. Sel. Much, much ! (Music Guard goes to the Door locks it, and retires to his Couch). Sel. This key must be returned. (Aside). (^SELIM, in reaching to replace the Key, drops the Chains from his gripe, and imme- diately falls upon them, holding the belt round him. At the same instant) ALMA- ZAIDE utters a cry of alarm, and the Guard starts forward -~ (Pause.) Ad~ vances suspiciously , takes the Jug and Bread) replaces them on Basket, and ^^o- tices the Key). Guard. All is safe ; but I thought Did not you hear a noise in the Gallery ? Sel. The echo of a creeking door, nothing else. Guard. A light advancing ! 'tis Zembnca ! he comes to visit the prison I must be ready. Sel. Zembuca ! then Almazaide perishes ! she cannot pass him, cannot enter. (Aside). (Music March. As they pass above, the Guard in haste kicks back his mattrass, throws Basket on it, unlocks, and throws open the Door; then taking his Spear, which he had left against the column, stands as on duty. At the moment he turns from the Door for the Spear, ALMA- ZAIDE darts through it, and conceals her- self). ZEMBUCA. 41 Guards , Slaves, &c. enter, followed by ZEMBUCA. Zem. 'Tis well ; these chains become a trai- tor. Set. Indeed ! then it were fit Zembuca wore them. Wiiy come to mingle insult with thy cruelty ? Zem. I come to hear a fix'd resolve to what I shall propose Mark me ! Your scattered troops, join'd with the rebel army, have sent an insolent demand, that yon, their General, be restored. Rather than shrink beneath their threats, these towers shall be Zembuca's tomb sign this paper betray them to the ambush I have form' d, and life, with liberty, again are yours. Sel. I will not betray them. Zem. Remember the alternative speak ! Sel. Then, thus I answer For myself, I de- mand justice; for Almazaide, liberty; for your unhappy subjects, mercy/ Render your- self immortal in the affections of your people- for Time, that crumbles the inscription from a tyrant's monument, will make that indelible, which a virtuous prince impresses on the heart ; a good king's memory will never perish ! Zem. Your fate then is decided ; unless these murmuring slaves return to their allegiance, you swing a lifeless corse above the battlements ! Those who despise Zembuca's clemency, shall learn to fear his hate! Away ! [March.'] ^ZEMBUCA retires zvilh Guards, Slaves, &c. As KORAC exits, A.LMAZAIDE lo&ks after bim, from the Table, and ts observed by one of the Black Slaves, who lingers behind, G 42 ZEMBUCA. and in the confusion is not observed by the Guard, till the rest re-pass the Gallery. As the Guard goes to lock the Gate he sees him). Guard. How's this ? Why do you loiter here ? Slave. Have you not observed Guard. What? Slave. A stranger concealed in the prison ? Guard. Concealed who ? Slave. A friend of Selim. Guard. Indeed ! where ? )g Mirz. Here I (Throws off the Crape, seizes Guard, and holds a Poniard over him). Sel Ah ! Mirza ! _ _. Aim. Mirza ! Guard. Help ! help ! treachery ! the guard ! the guard ! Mirz. Another word, and 'tis your last. (SfiLiM seizes him on the other side ALMA* ZAIDE takes the Key, and advances.) Aim. Secure him, or we may be pursued ! The chains! the chains ! (They place the Belt round him, and ALMA- ZAIDE locks the Chains Bugle heard). Mirz. Lose not a moment ! fly to the walls that skirt the river, and you may pass them with the means by which I entered the left avenue will lead you there in safety. [Exeunt SELIM and.ALMAZAivz. (At the same moment, Guards with Torches and Sabres rush across the Gallery). Mirzi Ah ! already ! One word, and this po- niard is in your throat. [Music,'} ZEMBUCAi 43 (MiRZA crossing to the entrance, waits behind it. Other Guards are seen following through the Gallery. At the instant the Guard ofarS rushes in, MIRZA darts through the door and locks it the other, hearing the Gate close, turns, but is too late. While he struggles, ALMAZAIDE is seen borne through the Gallery by Guards. Music expressive}. SCENE V. A Moresco Hall in the Fortress. Voices (without). Huzza! Huzza! BUFFARDO enters in haste. Buf. I never get clear of one scrape, but I tum- ble into another. Voices (without). Huzza ! Huzza ! Buf. Ah, you may huzza till you're hoarse ! I'll not be shot at again, to be made Great Mo- gul ! This is the consequence of being an Orator, I must make speeches, arid be damn'd tome! " Soldiers," said I, " the enemy are at hand; if " you don't distinguish yourselves, depend upon " it, they'll extinguish you ; therefore, fight securing* it on the oppo- site side with bclts^ and dise-ngaging tbe : chains* dtojsMv^^ Ko. On one word alK defends, ^^^Tisdonef. , ; .. ^{& Ko. Do they advance ?_^ iijr ; ZEMBUCA. 47 Ebra. Rapidly. Ko. Can we be assur'd of their approach ? Ebra. Yes, by the firing of the Beacon. Ko. That on the hill ? Ebra. Yes, Mirza! (MiRZA appears at the Gate to them). Ko. Hush ! not so loud How did you pass the Sentinels ? Mirz. I encounter'd none all is confusion within the Fortress no man knows his station I have secur'd the Bridge no power of theirs within can raise it. *Ko. Say, Ebra, has Selim join'd the Shiek Mo- hammed ? Ebra. He has. Ko. Zembuca's star grows pale ! Ebra. The news contained in that packet, spread like wild-fire thro' the ranks, and all pro- claim'd the Aga, Sultan 1 Ko. Indeed ! then is my atonement made. Korac is no longer burthen'd with a load of guilt. Ebra. What mean you ? Ko. That paper was the dying confession of the Vizier Ali, signed by his own hand, in the presence of Zembuca and myself. Mirz. What did it disclose ? Ko. A secret, that I too long have kept* Urged by false pride, and a vile thirst of power, he, in their infancy, exchanged his own offspring for the heir of our last Monarch Selim is that heir,* Zembuca, Ali's son. [Distant Drum** And the Beacon appears in Jlccmte on the Hill.] Ebra. Ah ! the signal IThey come 1 I see them on the mountains. 48 2 EMBUC A. Ko. The time is apt ! now prepare to receive the captive Almazaide. [Exit KORAC to the Portal, on the Fortress side. /TX/T - T- / 7 T (MiRZA and EBB A. retire behma steps that lead to the Sluice A So>disr on the Bridge sounds a born, ivhicb is amiverd within -ZEMBUCA on the Ramparts From the time EBRA exc!aiws y " They corns /" Music indicating March, strikes very piano, increas- ing forte ; but as the dialogue at lows t accord- ing to the approach of the troops)* Zem. Up with the Drawbridge. . (Sentinel appears on the Bridge). ' gsvi! Sent. We cannot raise it the works are da- in aged. Zem. Cut it away instantly. ( 'The Bridge is cut away, and falls into the Moat). [Music, louder.~] Zem. Now let all retire, and lie conceal'd within the walls these slaves shall still believe us nnprepar'd, and rush upon destruction. [Exit. Ebra. The bridge destroy f d ! Mirz. Then is their retreat cut off. (ISoRAC, with ALMAZAIDE, enters from the Portal, and stop in despair at the edge of the Moat). Ko. The bridge cut down ! What is to be done? Ah 1 I see a plank amid the fragments-** "Fear not, Almazaide : I yvill release you from this tyrant's grasp, or perish in the attempt. (KoRAC, holding by the chains that had sup- ported the Bridge, swings himself over the ZEMBUCA. 49 Moat He takes a plank from the frag- ments of the Bridge, which being insuffi- cient to reach across, he props it with his shoulder, while ALMAZAIDE advances, and leaps the remaining space into the arms of SELIM, who appears on the Platform. During this, ZEMBUCA'S following speech is heard The moment ALMAZAIDE is across, KORAC drops the plank, and those in pursuit appear KORAC seen climbing to the Platform SELIM retires with AL- MAZATDE). Zem. Korac's voice ! Almazaide too! Guards! follow (Enters in front of the Stage}. On your lives secure them. Curse on them/ they es- cape! Off. The enemy are close upon us, the out- posts are driven in, and they have enter'd^he eastern gate. *. * Zem. March them to the moat beneath \ there let our soldiers lie in ambush. Traitor ! Ko. (Having gained the Platform) Traitor I am none ; thou art the traitor ; thou hast filled the seat of mercy with cruelty and oppression ; rebeli'd against our Prophet's laws, and against thy law- ful Sovereign -Seli m ! at&3. (Soldiers appear in the Moat MIBZA 0?zd ERA advance from behind the steps). Ebra. Do you observe ? Zembuca's rtien have occupied the moat, if we are overpowered, Mirz. The moat I then we may stilt assist our JEl-ra. Ah! The sluice! the sluice I . '. : Mirz. Now, you rascals! I'll cool your.cou-' rage! .(Rusting up-stepsj. _ Help, libra, hdp! ii so ZEMBUCA; follows him They lift the flood-gate,, and the water flows into the Moat. At the instant^ shouts heard. MIRZA unbolts tke entrance, and SELIM' s party enter. At the same instant ZEMBUCA and his men fill the front firing commences at the back, while the combat in front is continued. As ZEM> BUCA'J party are driven by SELIM' s, and followed into the Castle, the Walls appear damaged Shells and Bombs, &c. seen to pass to and from the Fortress ; the Moat appears to fill with water, and the distant part of the Building inflames. The Com- batants appear a second time in front Ko- KAC combats with ZEMBUCA/ his Sword, knocked from his gripe, is caught up by EBRA, who comes from steps the combat is re- newed, ZEMBUCA rushes through the portal, followed by KOKAC. ' ZEMBUCA enters Tower, the front of ivhich falls, a:id dis- closes him in a perilous situation The Build- ing blows up, the Tower falls, and ZEMBUCA, clinging to a rafter, is precipitated into the Moat SELIM enters with ALMAZAIDJE, MIRZA preceding, and followed by KORAC, all -bend the knee to ALMAZAIDE and SELIM General shout of the Victors). THE END London : Printed by 15. M'Millan, JUow Street, Covent Garden. The MAGP I E , or the MA I B THE MAGPIE OR THE MAID? IN THREE ACTS. TRANSLATED AND ALTERED FROM THE FRENCH, BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. FIRST PERFORMED AT THE ON FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1815. THE MUSIC COMPOSED BY MR. BISHOP, LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHtf MILLER, 25, BOW-STREET, COV JiNT-GARDEN ; By B. M'Millap, Bow-Street, Covent Garden. 1815. [Price Two Shillings.] PERSONS REPRESENTED, Gerald) a wealthy Farmer, Mr. Fawcett. Henry, his Son, Mr. Abbott. JEvrard, a Soldier: Annette* *s Fa- > Ar Mr. Barrymore. ther, S Martin, Godson and Servant to > ^ Listen Mr. and Mrs. Gerald, $ Malcour, Justice of the. Village, Mr. Blanchard. Benjamin, a Jew Pedlar, .. ....... Mr. Farley. Bertrand, Keeper of the Prison, Mr. Atkins. George, Malcour 9 s Servant, Mr. Howell. Dame Gerald, Mrs. Davenport, Annette, distantly related to the x Farmer and his Wife, ..their > Miss Booth. Servant, * Soldiers, Officers of Police, Peasantry, S?c. The SCEXE lies at Palaiseau, a Village not far from Paris The time, comprises part of an Evening, and the Morning of the succeeding Day. THE MAGPIE, Oil THE MAID? ACT L The Court-yard of a substantial Farm house: The House is seen on the right - Trees on the /eft, and a Fence (in which is a Gate) at the back beyond it a sloping Hill, and the distant Coun- try. In the front of the Scene, on one of the Trees, a Cage y in which is a tame Magpie. Pie. Martin ! Martin ! Mar. I'm coming (Enters) Hey! what, no body here! O Lord, O Lord ! the waiter at the White Horse, in our village, leads the life of a gentleman, compared to mine. I've had a tightish half- hour's work fed the sheep, the pigs, the poultry, the horned cattle, and our big clog; swept out the barn, killed a dozen rats, cut three trusses of hay thrashed a sack of wheat, and been thrashed myself for idling away my time I don't wonder they call my godmother an active woman. B 2 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? (Music He goes into the House Annette #j&- pears on the Hill, and descends the Mag- pie comes from the Cage on a perch, and calls, " Martin, Martin !" as the Music ceases j Martin runs from the House). Mar. Coming, coming ! I'm coming and going, from morning till night, like a short stage. (Annette appears at the Gate.) O, 'twas Annette To think of such a girl as that being servant at a farm ! It's a down-right shame. Ann. Ah, Martin, are you~there? (Coming forward,) Mar, Yes, Annette, I'm here and there, and every where a servant never stays long in a place, where my godmother is she's like a squir- rel in a cage never stirs but she sets her whole house in motion ferrets me about just as she pleases. Ann. But she does it all for your good, you know. Mar. So she tells me She beat me in the barn just now, and said I ought to be very much obliged to her she insists upon it, that knocking me down now and then is the only way to bring me up properly. But what did you call me for, Annette ? Ann. I ! I didn't call you. Mar. No! Pie. Martin ! Martin ! Mar. Oh, you bla'guard 1 (Seeing the Bird.) That plaguy Magpie is always making merry at my expence. Ann. So, 'twas old Margery, after all. Mar. As Mr. Malcour, our Magistrate, says, when he's about justice business, I wonder the tom-cat hasn't taken cognizance oi that Magpie's THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? S demerits, and brought her to condign punish- ment. Ann. While Margery has her liberty, there's no fear of her being hurt, poor thing. Mar. Poor thing! Why, she's a nuisance, no one has a moment's peace or quiet for her ; she's so cunning and so spiteful, and such a devil of a glutton ! do you know that bird will tuck down pretty near as much as would serve me for a lunch. Ann. Ha! ha! ha! Pie. Ha! ha ! ha!. Mar. There! always mocking people. Ey! you mischievous monkey. Ann. Don't be angry, don't hurt her, Martin. Mar. Why, one wouldn't go to set one's wit to a poor bird, you know ; but godmother says Mag has more wit than I have O she does and thinks her company more entertaining and agree- able too. Ann. Never mind, Martin, I think your com- pany very agreeable and entertaining ; but I mustn't enjoy it any longer, for I've a great many things to do, so good bye, Marlin, good bye (Music Annette enters the House.) Mar. Good bye, Annette. O bless you! That's the kindest soul in the village every body loves her and so do I pity she has such examples before her as my godmother, and Margery here, (Going to the Magpie.} Eh ! you nasty little pyebald giggler. Dame G. (Coming from the IIoit.se.) Make haste, Annette, make haste, and get every thing in order Oh, I'm so delighted, so overjoyed ! In one hour more our dear child, our dear Henry will be with us again but where is that lazy fel- low, Martin ? B 2 4 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Mar, Oh, oh ! (Magpie bites him.) Dame G. What, you are there, are you, teaz- ing my bird again ! Mar. Confound her, she has bit me to the bone. Dame G. And served you right, why don't you leave her alone, pretty creature. Mar. Devilish pretty ! looks like a chimney- sweep pelted with snow- halls. Dame G. Go, run, prepare the great table, and lay it out under those trees now I think of it, 'twill be more convenient, for the farmer has invited all his friends to welcome home our Henry. Mar. What, Henry coming home ? Dame G. Yes, Martin, we expect him this very evening, and I'm so happy, that I don't think I shall scold you again Mar No! Dame G. No, not till to-morrow 'tis now six years since he was a soldier, and nearly two since I have seen him but he shall never leave me again. Mar. Oh, how I shall love to hear him tell all about the wars how many times he covered himself with glory, and how many wounds he received in battle, Dame G. Wounds ! Mar. Yes, but I hope he has got no scars upon his face, godmother, for he was very "handsome, you know, and it would be a pity if he was to come bock with a broken head. Dame G. Go along, you stupid fellow, or you shall have a broken head of your own. Mar, I'm going, godmother. (Music Farmer Gerald appears at the lack, rotting a cask of ffine.J THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 5 Ger. Martin, come here, my boy, and lend a hand. Mar. I'm coming, godfather. Dame G. What have you got there, hushand ? Gcr. Comfort a cask of wine," good wife. (Martin helps him to set up the Cask.) Dame G. A nine gallon cask ! Oh, it's too much. Ger. Not a drop I'm determined they shall have their skins full, to make a day's sport go off swimmingly there's nothing like good wine to set them afloat I've order'd some fiddlers too for the girls. Mar. Some fiddlers! Oh then, they must have their skins full too, fora fiddler without drink is as bad as his how without rozin. Dame G., I'll roziu you, you blockhead, if you. don't go and mind your business (Martin goes off) Can't get one of them to do any thing for me I'm oblig'd to think, and to talk, till I quite tire myself. Ger. Yes, and tire me into the bargain. If you would but think a little more, and talk a little less, it would improve my health and your temper wonderfully. (JVkkn Martin goes offf the preparations for the Supper begin, and Martin is continually on and off the Stage, directing the Servants, and attending to the conversation in front.) Dame G. Temper! my temper! iv:r. Ger- rald, I defy you to tind a woman with more mild- ness, more patience, more good nature Mar. Ha ! ha ! ha ! -Oh Lord! Oh Lord! Dame G. What are you laughing at, Sirrah ? Mar. Oh I I was only laughing at yoqr mag your Magpie, godmother. 6 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Dame G. Then there's Annette, another dawdle quite as idle as the rest Ger. Come, come, wife, that's not true ; An- nette is a worthy good girl ; exact in her duty, and obliging in her disposition. Dame G. Yes, obliging with a vengeance ! she hardly gives me time to mention my orders, before they are executed I don't like that Now, Martin I can scold twenty times a day, and when- ever I lay a stick across his back it does me as much good as it does him ; it circulates the blood, and makes me feel quite alive. Mar. Does it, I wish you'd get another doc- tor, tho* Dame G. The fact is, you have half spoilt the girl " my good Annette,*' and, " my charm- ing Annette" O' my conscience, every body seems in love with her. I verily believe that old fool, Mr. Malcour, the Justice, has taken a fit of fondness for her now. Ger. Pho ! Malcour's a rascal ; he never was fond of any thing but himself a mere pettifog- ging attorney, who, by art and chicanery, has screw'd himself into the Commission, and is as much a disgrace to the situation he now holds, as he was to the honourable profession he was bred to But listen, wife Dame G. Listen I Ger. Yes, you have talk'd yourself put of breath, and I think its my turn now. Dame G. Well, husband, well Ger. That girl must no longer be considered as a servant in this house Her mother was my relation ; and tho' her death has made Annette dependant upon us, and unavoidable misfortunes have forced her father to become a soldier, it is THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 7 my duty, and should be your pleasure, to honour the parent who has shed his blood in the service of his country, and'shew kindness to the child be- queathed to our care and protection. Dame G. Well, well, as you say Poor Mr. Granville ! Ah ! his wife was a kind-hearted soul. Ger. Well, my dear, I have been thinking, when Henry returns Dame G. That's well thought of, indeed if we take a walk over the hill, we shall see him a full quarter of an hour sooner Annette ! I'll just speak a word to her Ger. First let me speak a word to you I have a plan to marry Henry. Dame G. How! marry! softly there, Mr. Ge- rald, if you please that affair belongs entirely to me I'll tell you who Henry shall marry Pie. Annette! Annette! Ger. Egad, Mag has hit it she is the very person. Dame G. What, Annette ! Enter ANNETTE. Ann. Here, Ma'am did you call ? What are your commands ? Ger. Pretty little soul ! Look at her (to Mrs. Ger. apart}. Dame G. Pshaw, nonsense! I won't hear of such a thing (Aside to Ger.) Now the cloth is laid, Annette, you may place the silver, and the napkins on it. I shall go and fetch the plate-basket myself. But be careful that none of them are mislaid : clon't let it be 1& it was my last birth- day, when a silver fork was lost. Ann. Be assured, Madam, I shall take every care of them that fork has caused me so much uneasiness, so much trouble S THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Mar. So it has me I've hunted for that devilish fork till I've drearn'd of it. Dame G. Ah ! it was a strange piece of busi- ness Ger. Pshaw ! a trifle no great loss. Dame G. Well, I'll soon be here with the others, but don't be impatient, husband. I shall be ba*ck again in a minute. [Exit. Ger. You need not hurry yourself, my clear. Annette > what ails you ? don't be cast down, my good girl. Ann. If I could but see that fork again, it would be a great comfort. Ger. Would it not comfort you quite asmuch to see my son Henry again ? Ann. Ob no -yes yes certainly : every one must rejoice at the return of so good a son, and so kind a friend, if he be not alter'd, Sir he is the very picture of you* Ger. Humph ! rather a flattering likeness of the original, I believe but suppose 1 was to mnke you a present of the portrait Ann, Mr. Gerald j - me ! Ger. Yes, my dear Annette, you Henry has hid nothing from his father, and I have consi- der'd, that the greatest reward I can bestow upon his sincerity, is the hand of an amiable and virtuous girl. Ann. Oh, Sir this goodness ! but, if (hesi- tating) Ger. Ah an if and a but I know what's coming doubt and difficulty always precede the name of Mrs. Gerald ; but leave her to me ; I'll manage her, at least Flhfetry she's really a good woman at heart, tho' it puzzles people to find it out. MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Dame GERALD enters with the Plate Basket, &c. Dame G. Here they are (Giving things to Annette.) Now, husband, let us make haste Martin ! Mar. Coming, godmother. (Advancing). Ger. You run on, my good lad, and look out for him. Mar. Going, Godfather. (Goes off through the Gate). Ger. Annette, my dear girl, we shall soon re- return. (Shaking her hand). Dame G. There, there, that's enough you are not going to leave her for a twelvemonth (Music Martin is seen on the Hill Gerald holds the hand\ of Annette Dame drags him on impatiently, and Annette begins to lay Forks and Spoons upon the Table from the Basket). jfnn. Every thing this day conspires to make me happy Henry, my own dear Henry, returns in safety, and all my fondest hopes are realized My father too, how this event will rejoice his fond, his affectionate heart ! he may perhaps be present at our wedding; for when he wrote to thank me for the money I had sent him from my little earnings, he said his regiment would soon return to Paris. (Music Benjamin coming down the Hill). Benj. Here is peautiful scissars and knifes here's elegant silver buckles and cold vatct.es all new from Paris. Ann. Ah, 'tis poor Benjamin the Jew Pedlar I can buy nothing of him this year, c 10 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Benj. Pless ma soul, is dere no pody al home ? (Looking over the Fence). Ann, No one but me, Benjamin. Benj. Ah, ma pretty tear, my cood Annette. (Enters the Gate). -But is te pig dog at home ? (Looking about). De last time I travelled this way, that rogue Martin let him loose, and fright- ened me out of my vits. Ann. You will find no custom at the farm this time, Benjamin : Mr. and Mrs. Gerald are from home. Ben/. Dat's a great pity they'll never have such another opportunity again Look ! here's peautiful tings, all vat I brought from Paris. Ann. I'm sorry you should lose your labour. Benj. So am I grieved to the very soul but vont you, ma tear, purchase some trifle ? Ann. I am totally without money. Benj. Pless ma heart, that is great misfortune you must be very miserable. Ann. I never was so happy. Benj. Happy mitout de monish ! oh, 'tis im- possible. Ann. Not at all, Benjamin, for I gave all I had to comfort my father. Benj. Ey you give all vat you got to comfort your parents dat's cood girl, dat's cood girl let me put it down in one of my little pocket-books vat day vas it you gave em ? Ann. The last day of August I remember it vvell for that day twelvemonth my poor mother died Benj. Died ! your mother ! poor child, poor child ! dere, keep that little almanack for my sake. Ann. Nay, Benjamin Benj. Take, it, take it it will do me more THE MAGPIE, Oil THE MAfD? Ji coocl as if you paid me double price and when ever you look at the day when you parted from your monish to assist your father, I hope yon will not blush to remember the praises and admirations of a poor old Jew. Ann. 'Tis impossible to refuse it now. Benj. That's right, my loff I make it a rule never to refuse any ting. Ann. Thank you, Benjtmin, thank you kindly. Benj. Ma tear, I'm very much obliged to you for your custom. If de family should vant any ting in my vay, tell them I lodges at te Vite Horse in te Village. (Shouts of Peasants). Ey> what a swarm of people's on te hill, and dat rogue Martin, as I hope to be shaved Good bye, ma tear. (Music Martin is seen coining down the Hi/I the Jew going from the Gate, runs against him) . Mar. Oh! Benj. I beg you ten tousand pardons, Sir. [Exit Benjamin. Ann. Well, Martin, well Mur. Oh ! that Jew has run his pack into the pit of my stomach, and knock'd out every bit of breath in my body. Ann. Is he coming, is Henry coming ? Mar. Yes, and half the village into the bar- gain. I saw him first" How are you ?" says he. I'rh charming, says I. Then he squeezed rny hand till it look'd like the foot of a duck. And " how's is Annette?" says he. She's charm- ing too, says I. Then he flew into my arms, just as you mean to fly into his. Here they come. (Music They descend the Hill - Martin bec- kons toward the H^use - Servants enter C2 12 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? with Dishes, and place them on the Table Henry, &te appear at the Gate) . Hen. Annette, my dear Annette! (Embracing her). Ann. Henry ! Mar. I thought how it would be. Dame G. Annette, what are you about ? is there nothing to be done but shaking hands, and Ger. Now then dispatch ! bustle, bustle ! Wife, if you wish to see your boy happy, let him speak to Annette without interruption. Dame G. But I don't approve of so much ten- derness and civility. Ger. Why you have very little taste that way, I confess; but depend upon it, the surest method to make Henry comfortable is to make that girl sp. Come, come (Gerald pulls her aivqyshe looks disturbed, but retires to Table during this Annette has shewn Henry the Cross , which hangs at her neck). Hen. Yes, I remember, it was my parting pledge of constancy. Oh, my beloved Annette, I knew not half your power till we parted. Then, secure in your affection, I possessed a charm that soothed me in your absence, comforted me in sickness, and inspired me in the battle ! Ger. Martin, broach this jolly dog, and bleed him a bit. Mar. That I will, till he's a dead man, god- father. I'll soon doctor hirrj Dame G. Come, Henry, come, you shall sit by me now, Mr. Gerald and where is Mr. Malcour ? where is his Worship ? not coine ! he was surely invited. Ger. Never mind him, his Worship will come long before he's wanted, Annette, you take his THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 13 place Martin is Master of the Ceremonies, remember. (He sits at Table). Mar. Now, lads and lasses, begin the dance ; tune up, pipers, and I'll wet your whistles for you [Ballet.*] (They have seated themselves at the Table Martin taps the IVine-cask, and makes himsef merry among the group. At l/ie conclusion, Gerald rises from Table, the rest follow). Ger. Tis well, friends, very well in the Or- chard you may pursue your sports Martin will take care .of you. Mar. That I will, and take care of myself too come along, girls, we'll have a rare game of blindman's-bufr* under the apple trees - nobody will interrupt us, for godmother never comes there, for fear of getting the lumbago come $long. (Mifsic and Peasants go off with him}. Dame G. Now, my boy, we'll go into the parlour, and there you shall tell us all that has happened for the last two years. tjen. But Annette, mother Ger. Aye, aye, let her come with us. Dame G Well, she has only to fold the nap- kins, and count up the plate, and when she has done that she may come. Ger. That's right, that's well said. Henry, my boy, you are welcome home ; and ere long I trust I shall see you married, and as happy as (looking at Annette, and then suddenly casting his eye :ipon Mrs G.) as your father Come, wife. (Miisic They go into the Hoyse, Henry /m/wg his hand to Annette. . f She begins to collect the things at the Table. Evrard, 14 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? wrapped in a Cloak, with hat pulled over his eyes, descends the Hill, and enters cau- tiously She counts the articles till the Music stops) . Ev. She is alone it is, it is my child ! Ann. Ah, Henry ! how fervently he swore to make me happy. Ev. Happy ! and I come ! Oh my poor girl ! (Groans). Ann. A stranger, and distressed ! how can I serve you ? Ev. Annette! Ann. Father ! (She throws back on the Table the last Spoon .she ivas placing in the Basket, andfiies into his arms). Ev. Hush ! Ann. I cannot suppress my joy your appear- ance, so unexpected so Ev. Speak lower, I entreat. Ann. What is there to fear ! There are none here but friends. Ev. Friends that I must not endanger An- nette, listen to me on our arrival at Paris, I immediately requested of my Captain a furlough for two days, that I might once again embrace my child. Owing to caprice, or perhaps neces- sity, he refused me ; I persisted ; he reprimanded I reproached him with cruelty, no doubt in terms as unbecoming as my passion, till at length irritated by my audacity, he raised his cane to strike me. Furious at being thus publicly dis- graced, I for a moment forgot the subordination of a soldier, drew my sword upon him, and was arrested Ann. But you were pardon'd ? Oh, yes, yes. Ev. Not so the fault I have committed, by the law of arms, is punishable by death. THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 15 Ann. Death ! Ev. A Court-martial immediately was assem- bled the law is explicit ; and ere this the sen- tence is pronounced. Ann. Is there no hope ? Ev. None, but in flight. With what re- mained of the money you last sent me, I pro- cured this cloak, and by the assistance of a faith- ful comrade, eluded the sentinel that guarded me, and quitted Paris at day -break this morning. Ann. Remain here ; you will be no where so safe as with me : Mr. Gerald will protect you. Ev. He must not, dares not the Magistrate of the village will no doubt receive directions to secure me as a deserter. No Gerald might in- volve himself on my account, and I will never ex- pose to danger that man who has proved a second father to my child. Promise me, swear to me, never to reveal this fatal secret. Ann. Not to your kinsman ? Ev. Not to a human being. Arm. 'Tis dreadful, but 'tis my duty you de- sire it, and I swear I never will. Ev. Enough, my heart is relieved the con- demnation of the poor soldier Evrard, by which fictitious title I am only known in the regiment, will excite no enquiries, no compassion, and the name of Granville may yet descend to thee un- spotted, undisgraced. Ann. Oh father ! since nothing but escape and an eternal. exile can secure you, we will quit this place together. Tho' all the world deserts you, your daughter never shall. I'll watch over you incessantly ; share with you every danger, and if at last the fatal blow should fall, together it shall strike us, and I'll die with transport, re- ceiving the last blessing of my dear, dear father. 16 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Ev. (Holding her to his losoni*. Affectionate child! unfortunate Granville ! No, Annette, I must forego this pious sacrifice your disappear- ance at the farm would excite suspicions, and instead of aiding my escape, would but increase my danger. Ann. Ah 1 I hear footsteps hide jour uni- formquick, quick Ev. I have yet one thing to ask^ that is indis- pensible Ann. Tis too late 'tis Malcour, 'tis the Jus- tice recline upon that table (Music Evrard sits, as Malcour opens the Gate and advances). Mai. So, so there she is, all alone and lovely, like the first flower in spring I am arrived very opportunely. Miss Annette, I'm yours hope you'll soon be mine* Ann. Your servant, Sir. MaL Su r eet soul ! what lips, and what an eye \ (Aside.) Truly sorry I couldn't do honour to the farmer's good cheer. Am come now full of papers and apologies ; but its always a rule with me, that pleasure should be sacrificed to business. ^/272. You will find Mr. Gerald in the house, Sir. MaL Humph ! wish he had been further off what a lovely creature ! Ann. Here, good man, drink Pretend ta sleep. (Aside to Evrard.) MaL Who's that ? Ann. A traveller, who, who MaL Aye, who is he ? -^7272. He begged repose, and wine to cheer him I have granted his request. Ma!. Kind soul ! I wish you'd grant my re- quest, and cheer me. THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 17 Ann. That person I mean, that table, is in great disorder, and I must not leave Mai. I perceive the feast is finished ; but there are pretty pickings left. Oh! that I might taste ! Ann. Mr. Justice, (indignantly) this discourse offends me ; those papers may be of consequence I will not detain you. Mai, Oh, there's no hurry I'll stay with you with pleasure. Ann. I thought, Sir, you made it a rule always to sacrifice pleasure to business. Mai. Hem ! cross-examin'd, and bother' d Enter GEORGE, at upper end. -Must drop the suit at present, and move for a new trial. Now, my love, my charmer (Seeing George) What do you want ? Eh ! Geo. This packet has just arrived at the Office, and the Clerk desired me to give it to your Wor- ship instantly. He says its of great consequence. Mai. Indeed ! who brought it ? Geo. A horseman from the War Council at Par i s. Ann. (Aside). From the War Council ! (Look- ing at Evrard, who betrays emotion). Mai. That's enough You may go. (Exit George). Now, let me see. "Mr. Justice" Hum cc Description soldier Evrard !" So, so, a deserter ! Ann. Heavens ! Mai. Eh ! why, where are my spectacles ? very careless indeed ! left my spectacles at home. Ann. Had you not better return home for them, Sir? D IS THE MAGPIE, OK THE MAID'? Mai. No, no, 'tis only the description of a de- serter And yon shall read for me. Ann* I I shall at least know the truth* (Aside). Mai. Come, begin Ann. " I address to yon the description of a sol- dier belonging to the regiment of Champagne, who by a Court martial was this morning con- demn'd to death." (Voice broken and agitated). Ev. Death ! Mai. Hum 1 serious business, truly Tender- hearted soul ! Ann. Ah ! if I read what follows, he is lost ! " Fifty-two years of age, five feet eleven" Mai. It quite overpowers her. Let me try again ; perhaps Ann. Oh no, I'll goon, Sir Assist me, Hea- ven ! " He is called Evrard,, aged twenty -Jive" Mai. Twenty- five a young offender. Ann. <* Five feet two inches high blue eyes, light hair, fair complexion" Mai. A likely fellow too ; now, 111 warrant he has brought himself into this predicament for the sake of some pretty girl or other. But his dress read that that's of the utmost import- ance. Ann, His dress! " Blue uniform facings scarlet gaiters white." (Evrard throws open his Cloak Annette looking alternately at him and the descrip- tion, states every particular precisely con- trary). Mai. 'Tis well. (Taking paper and folding it) I must forward copies of this without loss of time Eh ! (seeing Evrard, who drops to his position on the Table) That's not one of our neighbours THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 19 I don't remember him Egad, it may be ! Friend ! (pats him on the shoulder) Ann. Powers of mercy ! Mai. Stand up, if you please- Now, take off your hat. Ann. \ sink with terror ! ' Mai. Twenty-five years of age, five feet two light hair, white uniform hem ! very like the description truly ! that will do ; fellow, you ir.r.v g ^ *' Ann. He is saved You may depart now, good man, (Music.) Conceal yourself behind those trees (aside). (Music Evrarcl goes behind them as Mai- cour ties up papers). Mai. So, here is something in my way at last. Pope I shall catch the fellow in my district touch the reward, and then Ah ! my lovely An- nette ! if you would but consent to make me happy, and seal the bargain by a kiss (advancing). Ev. Wretch ! Mai. Wretch! who was that, that dared Ann. The the only the bird, Sir, (point- ing to the Magpie). Mai. That impudent Magpie ! you should really teach him better manners, but, adieu ! remember you promise (advancing). Ann. No, Sir, do not leave me in that wilful error I have too much regard for my character, ever to become your wife. Mai. Wife ! whew ! amazing ! do you know who I am ? Ann Yes, Sir, you are a Justice. Mai. And do you dare? Tin amaz'd and con- founded! a menial a servant, talk thus to Chris- tophe Athanius Jean Baptiste Malcour, Justice of D 2 20 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Palarseau never met with such cool impudence in the whole course of my practice (Music He goes off muttering). Ann. Now, now you had something still to say, of consequence. Ev. (Who at MalcourV exit, advances from the trees) I am without money! Ann. (Clasps her hands in despair) And I a* this moment have nothing ! A Ev. You, I know, have given me. all that you possess'd. And this is, now, my last resource. (He gives Annette a Case, from which, she draws a Silver Spoon), ft was the gift of your dear, dear mother, Ann. My mother! (In tears). Ev. I did hope never to have partecl with Jt ; but hard necessity will have it so, and you must endeavour to sell it by to-morrow morning at the latest, and be careful to sell it secretly secretly, mind Ann- (IVitli sudden recollection, and apart) . !Tes 3 it shall be done Benjamin, no doubt, wijl pur- chase it. Ev. On the road-side, a short distance frorq the village, there stands an old tree, a willow, which time has excavated Ann. I know it well. (She puts the Spoon in her Poc'et). Ev. Jn the hollow of that tree, deposit the money it produces, and, one hour after Day- break, let me be sure to fjnd it- farewell, my dear child ! Heaven guard and bless you ! Per- haps this kiss may be the Jat yqu ever may re- ceive from your unfortunate, your unhappy pa- rent ! Ann. Oh, father ! (Throws herself into hi$ arms). THE MAGPIE, Oil THE MAID? 21 (Music Evrard releases himself, goes to- . wards the Gate she folloius him they again embrace, and part Annette drops on her knee y and implores protection for her Father, whv ascends the HilL At this instant the Magpie perches on the 'fable, and files away with a Silver Spoon) . END OP ACT I. ACT II. The Parlour in the Farmer's House In the front a Door ; on the right enlarge Window, the Shut- ters closed, A Biiffet, on which is the Basket of Plate Chairs and a Table, ivith Glasses, t5c. in confusion, and the Magpie's Cage hang- ing in one corner of the Room. Music ANNETTE discovered, she listens while the Clock is heard to strike Jive. Ann. Five o'cjock ' (She opens the Door}. Tis btoad day -light, and still the Jew does not arrive unfortunate ! My poor father will seek in the appointed spot for the money -and oh cruel disappointment ! (Music She opens the Window y and throws back the Shutters the Scene then be- comes perfectly light). How unlucky, that Benja- min should be absent when I call'd last night at his lodgings. I hope he will receive my message if not ah ! THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? (Music). BENJAMIN enters. BP.HJ. Veil, ma tear, vat you vant mit me ? Ann* I am rejoiced that you are come. Benj. Very extraordinary time in te mornings, ma tear, for me to be summon'd to attend a young lady. I would not have left ma ped at preak of tay for any pody but yourself. Ann. \ thank you, Benjamin : but to busU ness Benj. Q, is it pusiness ? Dat is quite anoder ting ; but, pless ma heart, I have left ma pack. Ann. (Anxiously). You have not left your money ? Benj. (Significantly). No ! I never leaves ma monish. Ann. Then give me some instantly, good Benjamin. Benj. Ey! Ann. I have the most urgent necessity. Benj. Every pody vat 1 meets tell me they have urgent necessities for de monish. Ann. I require only the value of this (Taking the Spoon from her Pocket}. Benj. A shilver spoon ! ah, dat is cood I'm very fond of shilver spoons dare say I can af- ford to give a crown. Ann. Only a crown ! not half it's value, Ben- jamin. Benj. You're no judge, ma tear, as I am an honesht man, I'll use you veil. (Weighs Spoon in his hand J Ah ! he is line fat fellow he is more heavy as I thought I'll give you two crowns there now ! Ann. Surely you find it worth more than two. Benj. Not to leave a profit (Annette turns THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 23 away dejected) Poor ting! she seems very much distressed I don't know how it is, but I never can drive a cood pargain mit a young girl vat has got tears in her eyes. Ann. (Aside). 'Tis a mere trifle but I must not reject it. Well, I trust entirely to you. Benj. Trust me ! now, dat is very strange - nopody ever trust me before. Veil, veil there is three crowns of six livres one, two, tree there, ma lofF that is te full value take it, take it and I'll look for te profit somewhere else! Ann. Thank you, bless you ! but leave me now: should any one surprise you here Benj. Dat's very true I shall go home to ma lodgings immediately. If I don't make haste, somepody vill surprise ma pack, and I shall be ruined. (He goes out, and is seen through the window to meet Martin.) Ami. Novv then I must hasten to the willow I shall be just in time ah ! (Music). MARTIN enters. Mar. Why, Annette, you seem to have taken a fancy to that Jew but there is no accounting for taste. Ann. 1 was only speaking to him about about Mar. Ah! so I suppose but Master Henry won't like his nose to be put out of joint by old Benjamin's beard. Ann. The truth is, I wanted a little money, and as he happen'd to pass (She puts the Money in her Pocket). Mar. Oh! I understand you called him in to sell some trinket or other but why didn't you ask me ? Ann. I knew you were unable to assist me. 24 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Mar. Then you knew nothing of the mattef * for tho' I have not a penny in my pocket, I have plenty in my box. You never saw my box ? There's a hole in the top, where I slip in the mo- ney, and when Christmas comes round, I break it open, and count up that's where I keep the new half crown piece you gave mej and if I had known you were in want Lord! you should have had it and welcome. Ann. (Impatiently). Well, good Martin, the next time 'tis getting late, I must go ! Mar. So must I, there's Mag not hung up at the window yet besides, my godmother will be stirring presently ; and when she stirs, she seldom stops. (Goes to the Cage, and hangs it out of the Window) She and her darling here, will soon begin their daily labours. Ann. At last I shall escape If I can reach the place in time, all may be well, (Music), Enter HENRY. Hen. Annette! my dear Annette, so early from your bed ?-^-And Martin too ? Mar. Lord bless you ! Martin never gets a wink o'sleep after day-light your mother takes care of that she turu'd away the poor old dung- hill cock, to have the pleasure of crowing me up herself. Dame G. (Without). Martin ! Mar. I told you so Coming ! Shall I tell Henry of old Benjamin's beard ? Well, I won't, I won't ; I hate to make mischief, like my godmo- ther and old Margery. Dame G. Martin ! Martin ! Mar. Coming, godmother yes, yes, the game is begun. [Exit Martin. THE MAGPIE, Oil THE MAID? 25 Hen. Now I may speak to you without reserve ~-I have much to tell you, dear Annette. Ann. But why so early ? 1 scarcely expected * hoped Hen. I could not sleep the pleasure of being at home, the delight of seeing my parents, and above all, the joyful hope of soon calling you wife ! banish'd all repose. Ann. Ah, Henry ! I have slept as little as your- selfOh, my poor father ! (Aside). Hen. How's this! Annette? You are pale,- dejected j you have been weeping but I guess the cause. Ann. Indeed ! (Alarmed). Hen. My mother, perhaps, has Ann. Your mother 1 let him believe so (Aside). Ah ! I fear she will never receive as daughter the offspring of a poor soldier. Hen. And what am I but a poor soldier ? Is there a slate more honourable ? 'tis true, I am a step or two higher in rank ; but believe me, the child of such a man as Granville will confer ho- nour, not disgrace, in the alliance. Ann. Yet I tremble ! (Aside) the hour ad- vances I must leave you for the present, Henry. Hen. Stay, but a moment nay, do not agitato your spirits thus. My mother, I am certain, loves me too well, ever to make me miserable, by re- fusing her consent See, my father! he too will befriend us. Enter GERALD. Ann. (Clasping her hands). Another interrup- tion ! Ger. Ah, ah ! you rogues are you met al- ready ? I must haVe over-slept myself What time is it, Henry ? 26 THE MAGPIE) OR THE MAID? Her. Almost six, father. Ann. Six ! it will be too late ! Ger. Too late ! for what ? You'll have plenty of time to put these things in order by and bye, Ah, this love is a sovereign preventive, I find, for sluggishness ; but I am so little troubled with the complaint, that I should have snored an hour longer, if your mother's shrill pipe hadn't roused me, bawling after her hopeful godson. (Annette has endeavoured to reach the Door) Heyday ! Annette ! come here, you little runaway, and don't look so melancholy. I have been thinking, that as Henry has put the question to you, it will now be proper for me to put the question to his mo- ther. Hen. Do, father, do for as we have made up our minds, beyond the possibility of altering them Ger. Exactly as we are fully determined to have our own way, I think we may now venture to ask Mrs. Gerald's advice suppose you speak to her this morning. Hen. Me, Sir ! would it not be more correct that you speak to her ? Ger. Humph ! yes more correct, perhaps, but not quite so agreeable Eh ! Annette ! why, what ails the girl ? (Annette has disengaged her Hand from Gerald, and is just going out at the Door 9 ivhen Dame Gerald enters). Dame. Where are you running to, I should be glad to know do you think I can put all these things away without help ? Ah, Henry good mor- row to you. Hen. Good morrow, mother. Dame G. Why, Annette, you stand there like a post what can you be thinking of here's all THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 27 the plate and glass laying about, just as they were left last night I never saw any thing like it (bustling about) Why, husband, can you find nothing to do but look on at this confusion ? Ger. Well, well I like confusion as little as most people so I'll leave you. We must wait till the storm's over she'll bounce like a roasted chestnut, if you tell her now but the warmth of her affection will soon soften her heart Come > Hen. But Annette Gcr. She is used to it besides, the storm will soon be over Dame G. What are they whispering about ? (fixes her eyes upon Gerald and Henry they per- ceive it, and exit.) There is some scheme in hand that they wish to hide from me. Annette, do you know what they were talking about ? Ann. Me, Ma'am -'no, Ma'am ' Dame G. That 720 sounded very like yes but I shall soon find it out. Come, now help me to put every thing in its place again where is the plate-basket ? Ann. There it is, Ma'am. Dame G. Oh, I see let me examine it (she talks at the same time that she counts the plate Annette employed in passing the various articles to her from the Buffet.) 1 must confess, it was a charming evening the men drank, and the girls chatter'd, till I wonder they hadn't a sur- feit Eleven forks, that's all right Now give me the spoons Then they danced till the music made my head ach and drank ! Seven, eight, nine, a nine gallon cask, arid not a drop was left Ten, eleven eleven ! How's this? I must have count- ed wrong one, two, three, &c. (beginning in a low tone, and raising it as she proceeds) Ten, eleven ! eleven ! only eleven spoons ! there is one short lost, I dare say 88 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Ann. A spoon lost ! Dame G. O, count them yourself, pray there are eleven forks, that's right but there were twelve spoons. (Music-r- Annette counts them). 4nn. One, two, &c. eleven ! I don't find any more yet I was very particular Dame G. I don't at all doubt it but search, hunt, look in the buffet look behind it loolc pvery where (calls from the window) Mr. Ge- rald ! Martin! Mar. (Without) Coming, godmother. Dame G. Run and look under the trees where, we supped last night-^-for a silver spoon. Mar. Gping, godmother. Enter GERALD. Ger. What's the matter now, wife ? are you, making all this noise about a silver spoon ? Dame G. Yes, and you know a. fortnight ago there was a fork lost Well, (To Annette) I sup- pose you haven't found it. Ann. Dear, dear, this is very unfortunate. Dame G. Certainly, it is very unfortunate, and its very extraordinary too. Ger. Well, well it may be found again. Dame G. Ah, so you said before but this in- difference is not to be endured. I'm determined now to search into the truth, or in a fortnight more something else will be going. Ger Your tongue will, I'm certain. Dnme G. Husband, husband, I believe you wouldn't complain if they were to steal the teeth out of your head. Ger. Better endure that, than a mind constantly full of suspicion. THE MAGPIE, Oil THE MAID? 29 Enter MAETJST, Mar. O godmother, I have it, I have it Dame G. Have you ? Mar. Not the spoon, but 3 thought how it's gone Ger. Pshaw! Dame G. Well, well Mar. It's gone to look after the fork O you may depend upon it Dame G. Ey, you stupid Mar. Why, Mr. Malcour, the Justice, says the same for when I told him what had hap- pen'd, says he to me Ger. Malcour! Blockhead, what occasion was there to tell him it will be all over the village now Dame G. So much the better I am very glad his Worship is come ; he'll soon discover who is the thief; for there is no species of wickedness but what Mr Malcour gets acquainted with, and I require you to do me justice. Ger. He shall, and every one else concerned. It is now the only way left to stop malicious tongues; and that no one may accuse me of par- tiality, he shall immediately conduct the exami- nation. Dame G. Then I shall be satisfied 'tis not so much for the value of the things all I ask 4s, who is the thief? Pic. Annette! Annette! DameG. Ey! (Pause Gerald seems disturbed) that is very singular. (Martin comes down the Stage from the door). Mar. Here is Mr. Malcour, with a parcel of 30 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID ? beagles at his heels they are going a man-hunt- ing a deserter, he says Ann. Oh Heavens ! if he should have read the Dispatch ! (Aside). Ger. Come, come, Annette, you must not apply this business so seriously Mrs. Gerald has too much sense of propriety to accuse any one her only motive in urging an examination, is to clear the characters of those in whom she places confidence. Dame G. Certainly, certainly, I accuse no- body, but I may suspect anybody Mar. No, you may not tho' I'm one of the any -body's Dame G. Hold your tongue, simpleton. (Music The Justice enters, with his Clerk, and Officers a few of the Pillagers, and two Soldiers). Mai. What is all this, Martin has been telling me, about a silver spoon being stolen ? Ah, Miss Annette ! are you there. J have to return you my thanks for the accurate description you read me of the deserter for 52 read 25- white uniform facings scarlet A good joke, wasn't it but he shall not escape me. Ger. How's this, Annette? Have you de- ceived the Justice ? (Sternly, but in a low voice), Ann. It was to save a f fellow- creature's life. _ Ger. Remember this, Annette there is no vice so dangerons, as that which resembles virtue retire. Ann. Cruel, cruel situation ! (sfpart). Ger. That girl has hurt me, and raised ideas but no It is impossible Martin, bring pen, ink, and paper. (Martin brings them). The THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 31 circumstance of Mrs. Gerald's loss has become public, and public shall be the examination you know the facts Mai. Ay, ay you had better apply to my Clerk give him the usual fee, and he'll soon settle the business. Ger. Apply to ) our Clerk ! Mr. Malconr, your Clerk ! If I were a Justice, and received the sa- lary, I should consider it my duty to do the Work, and not injure my conscience or my country, by leaving matters of such importance to a deputy. Mai. Well, well shall I take the pen? Ger. Yes, and that chair likewise Friends, come forward I will not leave a chance for ca- lumny to hang a doubt upon. fMalcour takes his seat the rest arrange themselves). Ger. Now, wife, your deposition. Mar. Mr. Malcour, now he is perch'd there, looks like a crow upon a woolsack Mai. Silence in the Court ! I'll write the usual preamble, and then well begin. Afar. He had better ruot begin with me. I'll stand none of his nonsense. Mai. All your domestics must be question'd in rotation. Mar. Oh, I am not afraid of being questioned. Ann. Nor I certainly. Mai. Now we proceed. Mrs. Gerald declares that a silver spoon, her property, has been stolen Dame G. I declared no such thing I did not say it was stolen. Mar. No, she didn't say it was stolen. Mai. Silence ! 'tis the regular mode of pro- ceeding Now, Mrs. Gerald, inform us, if you please, who has the care of your plate. Dame G. Annette. 32 THE MAGPIE, OR THE ftf Mai. So, so, my pretty lass, I didn't expect this strong presumption against the said An- nette (writes). Ann. Against me! Not against me! Mai. Yes, against you. The name of her fa- mily ? Ger. Granville But remark, - Mrs. Gerald does not accuse Annette. Dame G. No; understand that, I have no proof, nor do I say it was her. MaL No, no, you do not say it was her ; but as the said Annette is in your confidence, and had the care of said plate, your suspicions must naturally fall upon said Annette. Mar. Must ! you may call that law, but I'll be hanged if it's justice. Ann. Oh, Madam 1 Oh, Mr. Gerald ! pray speak for me. I have never, never wronged you, indeed, I have been faithful indeed, indeed I am innocent (In pulling out her handkerchief to wipe her tears, the money which she received from the Jeiv, falls). Mai. What's that ? Money ! Ann. Yes, it is mine it is mine (she picks it up). Ger. Yours, Annette! I thought you had sent all you had to your father ? Dame G. And so she did, to my certain know- ledge, eight days ago. Mar. Aptly remembered, good Mrs. Gerald this is a new corroboration (writing). Ger. Annette, I trust you can explain this. Mar. Stay, don't spoil the paper with a pack of lies of your own I know that this money is Miss Annette's, and I know too where she got it. Ger. I rejoice to hear that speak, Martin. Mai. In the first place Mar. Hold your tongue Godfather told me THE MAGPtE, OR THE MAID? 33 to speak not you Old Benjamin the Jew gave it to her this very morning. Dame G. I am very glad of it that is suffi- cient. Mai. Not quite. Ger. Why, it's very clear. Mai. Not quite I beg to remark, that a poor pedlar is not in the habit of giving his money for nothing. Ger. That is true Tell me, Annette, what it was you sold, of three crowns value ? Mai. In the mean time, hand the money to me (Clerk takes it from her, and gives if to Mal- cour). I will be accountable according to custom (puts it in his pocket). Mar. According to custom ! good bye to it then. Ann. Oh, do not take it from me its destina- v tion is sacred 'tis honestly and truly mine have pity on my despair I am innocent indeed I am innocent (running to Gerald, and falling on her knees). Ger. I believe yon, Annette, sincerely ; but Mai. Mr. Gerald, excuse me. This money is no doubt the produce of the article that has been stolen 'tis an affair that comes under the jurisdic- tion of the Grand Judge; and, unluckily forjhe culprit, he is this day expected; so tremble Ger. Hold, Sir ! 'tis the duty of every man in your situation, to support and protect the ac- cused, not terrify and brow-beat her into an ap- pearance of criminality Remember, Mr. Mal- cour, that Justice always appears most beautiful when she is most merciful. It seems to me ne- cessary to send for the principal, I mean Benja- min the Jew Martin, you bring. him. v Mar. I will, I will. [Exit Martin. F 34 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Ann. Oh, yes ; pray send for him. Mai. There can be no objection for he'll make matters still worse. (Aside). Ann. Oh, father, if I might speak ! (Aside). Hen. (without). Who is it dares accuse her ! Ann. Ah, Henry ! (Shuddering). Enter HENRY. Hen. Father ! what mockery is this ? accuse Annette of theft of meanly pilfering ! Ann. Do not believe it, Henry I entreat you not to believe it. Hen. Never, my beloved never will I do so great an injury to her, whose gentleness, and truth s have fixed for ever my confidence, my love ! Dame G. Henry ! Hen. Yes, mother ; my honour, and my heart, alike are pledged, and I swear to shield, protect her with my life. Dame G. I'm astonish'd ! but this is no time to talk. Ger. The best and only time, good wife. You will find advocates enough where fortune smiles ; but he is the most worthy, who fearlessly stands forth the friend of the oppressed and helpless. Hen. And might not you, dear Sir, have been that friend ? Why did you expose my dear An- nette to the malice of a man whose integrity at least is doubtful ? Mai. Doubtful, doubtful ! read, Sir, read the proofs. Hen. "Proofs ! father ? are there proofs ? Ger. I hope not. Mai. There, Sir, I think that paper will fully ascertain my character. (Giving the Proceedings to Henry). THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 35 Hen. I do not doubt it. (Looking over the Pa- per). Are these your proofs? Contemptible! because a paltry piece of plate by accident is lost, you must conclude she stole it I But the Grand Judge (well versed in honour and humanity) will sentence heavily, a wretch who would thus sacri- fice an innocent girl at the shrine of error and malignity. (Throws back the Paper). Mai. Bless my soul ! this has taken an ugly turn. Mar. Come along, come along ! here he. is I've brought him. (Martin drags in the Jew).- Mai. The Jew ! all's well again. Benj. Pray, Mr. Martin, have compassion, and don't tear ma cloathes Ey, te Justice here ! and Martin not to tell me the next time he puys a razor of me, I'll shave him to the pone. (Aside Gerald and the rest resume their places). Mai. Now, Mr. Jew, answer to the questions I am about to put at present I am Judge. Benj. Inteed ! I wish mit all my heart, Jus- tice may never again find so pad a representative. Hen. Speak the truth, and fear nothing. Benj. 1 shall. MaL Tell me your name How are you called ? Benj. Te peoples call me Benjamin shall I tell vat they calls you ? Mai. No evasions what is your profession ? Benj. I'm a marchant. Mai. Ah ! commonly call'd a pedlar. Benj. Yes, by plaguards. Mai. Do you ever lend money ? Benj. In the way of pusiness. Mai. Do you ever give money ? Benj. Yes on cood security. Mai. Ey ! where do you find security for mo- ney that you give ? p 2 36 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Benj. In the acknowledgment of my own heart - a clear conscience is petter as a clear estate. Ger. Do you know this young woman ? Benj. Vat, Miss Annette? lam proud to ac- knowledge that I do she is a cood girl and a fair dealer. Mai. A dealer ! oh now we come to the point. Ger. What was the article you purchased of her this morning for three crowns? Benj. It was a shilver spoon. (All betray emo- tion). Ger. A silver spoon ! Mai. Good ! (writing). Hen. Annette ! is this Ann. The truth, Henry nothing but the truth but produce that spoon, Benjamin shew it compare it my life my good name all depends on that. Benj. It's quite impossible, ma tear. I popped him into a crusible, and melted him down immedi- ately. Mar. Then I wish you had popped in after it, with all my soul. Ger. Tell me, Annette on your answer all must depend how came that spoon in your pos- session ? Who gave it to you ? Ann. I must not, dare not speak. Hen. Distraction ! Ger. 'Tis too evident! This mystery confirms it; arid painful, agonizing as I feel the confession^ I am bound in duty, in justice, to admit this looks like guilt. MaL I commit her. -Hen. Commit her, commit Annette to prison ! Dame G. She shall not stir it was my pro- perty, and I forgive her. THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID ? 37 Ger. Wife, your compassion comes too late ; 'tis no longer you, but public justice, that must be satisfied miserable, infatuated girl ! one word may clear your fame, and still you hesitate. Ann. Press me no further I ought I must be silent. MaL Lead on, then. (Malcour speaks with an Officer, who goes out}. Hen. Stay yet a moment quick, mother, bring one of the same set from which this in question has been lost. (Mrs. Gerald runs to the Buffet, and returns with a Spoon Gerald, Martin, and Villa- gers draw near, and anxiously regard the responses of Benjamin). Hen. Now, on your oath, declare, was that you purchased of Annette this morning, plain or fluted ? Benj. It was fluted. (The group express sor- row}. Hen. Had it a cypher ? Ben/. Let me think a moment Yes, yes Dere vas a cypher. Hen. And you remember the letter ? Ben/. I do G G, vas the letter, Ann. (Apart). Oh fatal coincidence ! Gran- ville and Gerald ! the initials are the same ! Hen. One question more, and I have done. (Snatches the Spoon from them, and presenting it to Benjamin) Here, take it, examine it the make, the pattern, the remember on your oath Benj. (In great agitation, after looking at it, andjixing a look of pity on Annette, exclaims) As I hope for mercy, to the best of my remem- brance, they are alike ! (Pause Soldiers enter). 38 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Ann. Henry ! Hen. Oh, Annette ! I loved, I adored you ! you have destroyed my happiness you have de- stroyed yourself: yet still I love you. (He throws himself into his Father's arms). Ann. I am unfortunate, but on my soul not guilty. (The Soldiers lay hold of her). Oh, Henry, do not forsake me! as Heaven is my witness, I am innocent I am innocent ! (Music They lead her back as she speak* Henry attempts to follow her; is withheld by Gerald Mrs. Gerald hides her face with her handkerchief the Jew appears overwhelmed ivith grief; and Martin broken hearted The Curtain falls on the picture). END OF ACT II. ACT III. SCENE I. % The Prison ANNETTE discovered. (Music, as the Curtain rises.) Ann. O, my poor father ! What will become of him ! When the story of his daughter's shame shall strike a deeper, deadlier wound upon his heart, he'll sink at once beneath afflictions, al- ready too severe for nature to support. Long ere this, he will have sought in the appointed spot THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 39 he will have sought in vain, and think perhaps that my neglect, my inattention No no, he could never think unkindly of his child he will know some accident has prevented my obedience, and wait until to-morrow ! he must not again be disappointed one way is left this Cross! but to whom can I apply, in whom can I confide Mr. Gerald? Henry? no it would excite en- quiries which I dare not answer increase suspi- cions that may at last destroy me. (Martin heard at the Portal with Bertrand). Ber. You can't see her 'tis impossible. Mar. I know its impossible while you keep the door locked* ^Ann. Ah ! Martin to him I may entrust it, (Takes the Cross from her neck] his affection and simplicity will secure both success and secrecy. Enter BERTRAND and MARTIN BERTRAND points to ANNETTE, avid exit. Mar. There she stands, poor girl ! as patient ns a lamb, and as innocent, I'll be sworn, as I am. I shall never be able to speak to her. Ann. Martin, my good Martin! I was wish- ing much to see you it may be the last time ! Mar. Oh, Miss Annette, don't talk in that way. Ann. It is in your power to render me a most essential service. Mar. In mine ! Ann. In yours alone. You observed that they took from me this morning, the money, for which I had the greatest necessity Mar. Oh, yes but that was quite regular- however, I am glad they took it. Ann. Glad! 40 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID ? Mar. Very (Putting his hand in his Pocket J For as I helped to get you into trouble, it is but fair that I should do my best to get you out again so I broke open my box and if there is enough (She puts it away) Oh pray, pray, take it, for I'm sure if it doesn't help to do you service, I shall never live to enjoy it (Ready to cry). Ann. No, Martin, I only wish you to advance a sum equal to that I have lost, and carry it where I desire you At the end of the village, a little way on the road to Paris, there is an old willow Mar. I know it very well Lord 1 that willow was growing there when I was a little boy it was in climbing that tree , Ann. Well, well in the hollow of that tree, I would have you deposit this money Mai\. Put money in a hollow tree! why you don't mean to say Ann. You promised not to ask This little Cross is their full value take it. Mar. Not I, I'll not touch it pray do not think me such a brute as to take it from you- now I Ann. Then I must not accept your services. Mar. Ah, but I know what is to be done, 1 and it shall be done you can't get out to prevent me. Ann. Alas, no! Mar. Confound my tongue ! (Texed at him- self). Oh, Annette, my heart is so full, and my head so empty, that I can feel for you but I can't talk to you (Greatly affected). Ann. Good fellow! be comforted. One thing else, and then farewell ! This ring I have plaited with my own hair give it to Henry tell him that my last wish my latest prayer tell him to pity not to despise me. THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 4i Mar. If I stay a moment longer I shall blubber like a babyGood bye, Annette good bye, but I'm sure we shall meet again Ann. Beyond a doubt we shall ! Mar. Oh ! oh! Mai. (without). " Let the Officers wait till I have spoken with the prisoner." BERTRAND hurries hu Ber. Stand aside, man, stand aside here's the Justice. Ann, Farewell, Martin I remember your pro- mise Mar. Oh, Oh! (Bertrand puts Martin lack, and as Malcour enters and advances, they go out of the Pri- son). MaL Must make the most of my time if she'll consent, I know my course discover a flaw in the record Young woman, I am come to inform you, that the Grand Judge has taken an account of the evidence, and in a few minutes you will be brought to trial. Ann. To trial ! me to trial ! I am innocent- you know I am innocent. MaL Pardon me don't know, butam willing to believe I wish to serve you, to clear your cha- racter, to prove myself your friend and on cer- tain conditions Ber. (Advancing suddenly). Mr. Gerald ! Mai. Confound him, he has interrupted pro- ceedings in one word, will you accept my assist- ance ? 42 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Ann. No, Sir ! Assistance never can be va- luable, when proffer'd by a villain ! Mai. It's all over then ! Enter GERALD, with a Paper He speaks to BER- TKAND. Ger. Malcour here ! no matter this paper admits me to your prisoner. This is an order which must be executed, strictly and rigorously - 'tis from the Grand Judge (Exit Bertrand) Ah, my poor girl ! Ann. O Sir, do not abandon me I am with- out a friend- almost without hope ! Ger. (Aside). I must be firm Annette, for- give me, that I am forced to doubt do not think me cruel the strength of the accusations, and your unaccountable refusal to confute them, weigh heavy on my heart, and curbs each thought that rises to proclaim you innocent open then your soul tell me by what fatality you have thus involved yourself? Ann. A vow that never shall be broken chains my utterance the secret is not mine I can prove nothing, produce nothing in my de- fence : one only witness might have cleared me, but now ! even his evidence would not avail he would be consider'd an accomplice, and lose him- self, without releasing me. Ger. That oath cannot be binding, which affects your life the danger you are in, absolves it. Ann. Never, never ! (Malcour advances). Mai. It is near the hour of trial, Mr. Gerald. Ger. Check your impatience, Sir when your own hour of trial comes, you will not be so THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 43 eager (Malcour retreats amazed) Annette, I am come to lead you to your Judge 'tis I that must denounce you at 'the tribunal and unfore- seen necessity, 'tis I must there stand forth your prosecutor ! Ann. You ! Ger. It will be your last examination I dread to tell you with what rapidity the sentences of this Court are pronounced and executed if you refuse to speak it may be possible that this day Ann. I may be condemn'd ! Ger. Yes! Ann. Then I must seek resignation in the joyful certainty, that when I am unconscious of the triumph, my innocence will appear beyond the shadow of a doubt. Your poor Annette may go dishonoured to the grave, but tears of remorse and pity must fall to consecrate her memory. Ger. What am I to think ! .reason, reflection, conviction all are stagger'd by that air of truth no, no, a guilty mind never yet possessed such calmness in such extremity. Ann. Will you, dear Sir, without disguise, re- ply to one enquiry ? it would ease my almost broken heart. Ger. Sincerely I will. Ann. Henry! your son! if I should fall, what will be his thought ? Ger. Th^t your fate has been unmerited. Ann. And you ? Ger. I ! I always consider every person inno- cent till they are proved guilty. Ann. Then I shall not die without consolation ! Mai. Sorry to interrupt but the Court is waiting, and Ger. You are too busy, Sir I shall be respon- sible G 2 44 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Mai. Not conscious of any deficiency in my duty, Mr. Gerald Ger. Except where interest and your passions prompt you to betray it had Annette been more complying, you would have been less severe but I know you, Sir, and the world will know you for a wretch, composed of more vice than folly- with just head enough to contrive crime, but not heart enough to feel its consequencesa reptile, dangerous in every stage of its existence, whose very atmosphere is infection, and whose very touch is poison. [Exit Malcour. Come, child, be composed an upright Judge will never suffer an examination dictated by re- venge, to weigh the tythe part of a hair, against u fellow creature's life/ BERTRAND enters with two Soldiers^ who place themselves on each side of the Portal. Bert. (In a subdued voice}. The prisoner is summon'd. Ann. I am ready Come, conduct me. Ger. Annette ! my dear Annette ! what im- perious duty binds you to become your own de- stroyer, I cannot divine but before we part, let me hope that the persuasion of your Judge will effect a disclosure that I have pleaded for in vain remember, on this point your life depends not only yours Henry 1 the lover of your heart my poor boy's Ann. Oh, Heavens, do not augment my sor- rowsdo not drive me to despair ! Ger. Disclose, confess the truth! I entreat! I conjure you! one hour hence it may be use- less ! Ann. Then has hope forsaken me ! (Apart). THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 45 That confession would cut at once the thread of a dear father's life ! I must no^ think on't no, never, never! (Music Bertrand again advances as Gerald and Annette go qff^ he appears to entreat her, she still refusing the Soldiers Jile after them, Bertra-.id following) . SCENE II. The Wlage on the left, a Church with Tower arid Belfry the Door of the Church a little open. On the right, the Court -House. In front (also on the right) a Rustic Pi.rch - the entrance to the Farm - a Sentinel at the back. Enter EVHARD. Ev. Disguise and terror both seem needless I wander through the village unregarded, and the stragglers gaze upon me while I pass, as if they looked on vacancy. Grief is in every feature in every movement a dejection that speaks some great calamity yet wherefore should my mind forbod'e ? Illness, the want of secret opportu- nity, a thousand circumstances might prevent An- nette from reaching the appointed spot. Benj. (Descending the Steps of the Court-house). Oh, 'tis a cruel prejudice they drive me from the door abuse me -call me names. Ev. A stranger-^-a wandering outcast like my- self. I may accost him safely. (Apart, and list- ening). Benj. Pless ma heart, pless ma heart ! 'tis so heavy, I can hardly move mit it, and my poor old eyes vater so, I can hardly see my vay-^-but 46 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? somehow, I always loved her : whenever I came to te village, it was te happiest day in te whole year ; and I rejoiced more at losing fifty per cent. to her, that I did to gain a hundred from any pody else. Poor Annette ! Poor Annette ! Ev. Annette ! just Heaven ! let me be patient the name is common and it may be possible Benj. I shall never drive anoder pargain mit advantage- my spirits are quite proke I shall be a pankrupt mitout a farthing in the pound ma trade will go to te divel, and I shall go to te dogs. Ev. Friend! Benj. Ey 1 I am not your friend-^-I am no pody's friend the only friend I had, when I most wish'd to serve, I ruined I'll never ruin anoder. Ev. Of whom are you speaking ? Benj. A poor girl vat they have just taken to trial. " EV. To trial !-^-on what pretence ? Beuj. They call her tief -say she has betrayed her trust, and stole her mistress' property But its a lie! its an abominable lie ! she never be- tray *d a human being she never stole any ting, but the affections of those that knew her. Ev. And her name is Benj. Annette Annette Granville. (Evrard starts back in agony, concealing his face with his Cloak). Ev. Dishonoured ! disgraced f (Apart). Benj. Ah, I don't wonder you are sorry every pody loves her as if she was their own child but when her father hears it 'twill he a death-blow to his poor old heart. Ev. Oh 1 (Evrard groans). Benj. Come, come, restrain your, passions THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 47 you are not her father, are you ? Vat right have you to make yourself so miserable ? (Benjamin wipes his eyes, and retires on one side, to recover himself). Ev. Support, sustain me ! let me but await the sentence of my child with fortitude, and all shall be accomplished I have been proud in honesty content in an unblemished character blessed in the affections of a lovely daughter Bitter, bitter reflection!--! must resign them all I must have no child to comfort my declin- ing age no country but the desert -no home, but in the grave ! [Exit Evrard. Benj. Ah, dere's Martin coming. Enter MARTIN. Mar. Three crowns in a hollow tree ! there can be no security in such a bank the firm's rotten but it's done -O ! you are there, are you (To Benjamin) We have made a pretty business of it beiween us. Benj. When pad luck is to be had, I am al- ways in te market it has caused me more trouble as all my monish. Mar. So it has me but I've just got rid of some, (pulls out money) Now I'll count how much trouble I have left (sits on a bench by the porch). Benj. Vat's all dat ? Mar. Money I thought the sight of it would brighten up your countenance (beginning to count). Benj. Shall I count it for you, ma tear ? Mar. No, I thank you I am richer than I thought I was. This fine new half-crown piece was poor Annette's (the Magpie appears at the Gate). 43 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID ? Benj. Annette's ! how much do you ask for him ? Mar Til never sell it 'twas her keepsake and no living creature shall ever take it from me. Pie. Martin ! Martin ! Mar. Ey ! that rascally bird again get away, you brute, go ! (throws Hat at Bird, who flies back to enclosure) even that Magpie bore false witness against her, poor girl but I wish you wouldn't talk of her I shall never be able to keep count if you do one, two, three I sup- pose you know that rogue of a Justice is found Out at last. Benj. Found out ! Vat ! is te tog discovered ? Come, come, tings look better but can te news be depented upon ? Mar. To be sure it can he has embezzled the public money, and been committed to prison. Hell be transported, to a certainty. Ben}. So shall I mit delight, tnit joy ! Oh, I'm a good man again ! I'll go and tell Annette all vat Oh tear, I forgot, I forgot. Mar. (Comes forward). 1 wish you had forgot plague on't, you have put me out again. (During the foregoing, the Magpie perches on the Bench, and flies away with the Half- crown piece). Benj. Ey ! Look at te pird, look at te Magpie ! Mar. Stop thief, stop thief ! she has got my half- crown piece ! Benj. Vat a sensible pird I wish I could get a nest of te young ones. Mar. There she goes confound her! Benj. Veil, I've heard a great teal about mo- ney flying ! but I never saiv it fly before Ah ! ah ! TEIE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 49 Mar. A devilish good joke, isn't it ! - but its as old as you are See ! see ! she is gone into that hole in the belfry window if I could but scramble up Ah, the door is open ! Come, come and help me - (They go in), (Music The Officers of Justice, with Soldiers, and the Pillagers, come from the Court- house Annette in custody, as having been found guilty as she passe* the Church- porch she kneels, faints ; and is led off by one of the Soldiers, the Crowd following). (Evrard comes forward}. Ev. All is over, all is concluded ! they return with her to prison! ( Henry descends the steps of t/ie Court house, followed by Gerald and his Wife Martin at the same time is seen going up to the Belfry}. Hen. O, 'tis a stain upon the name of Justice, that never can be cancelled Leave me, father dear mother, let me pass I must, I will, see and speak to her. Dame G. No, no ;come in ; come homewith us. Ger. Henry, I command you ! why inflict upon her heart another, and an unavailing pang ? Hen. Oh torture ! there was no proof! all was surmise. The evidence was circumstantial, not positive, and yet they have condemned her! Ev. Condemned ! speak, tell rne 1 what is her sentence ? Ger. Who demands it ? Dame G. Ah ! I know him' well, I remember his features 'tis Granville ! Her. How! Her father ! Ev. Aye, her distractedher heart-broken father ! 50 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID ? Ger. Miserable man ! at what a time ! Ev. Let me know the worst I am prepared. ^Gerald turns from him) Nay, do not agonise me by suspense. Hen. Hear it then from me. (Evrard grasps his hand) they have sentenced her to death ! Ev. Death ! (Martin looking from the Belfry). Mar. Holloa ! stop, stop ! come back, come back ! Annette is innocent ! Annette is inno- cent! (He pulls the Bell violently). (The Crowd return) Huzza! huzza! Mar. Annette is innocent ! I've found the Fork I I've found the Spoon '.Annette is inno- cent ! Crowd. Huzza ! huzza ! Ev. Merciful Providence ! Hen. Innocent ! Who affirms it"? Mar. I I affirm it here are the very things we have lost (Benjamin comes from the Door of the Church] She is innocent ! I can swear to them, and I will swear to them ! Benj . So vill I I'll take my oath of 'em when I see 'em. Ger. Throw them down quick, Martin, quick ! Dame G. Into my apron. (She holds her apron^ and Martin throws them) As I live, the very same ! Here is the Fork lost a fortnight ago and here, the very Spoon that has caused us all this misery. Hen, Annette! thon art mine again ! (Rushes through the Crowd). Ger. Oh joyful discovery! they are indeed the same ! Ev. (Who has listened ivith anxiety) What said you a spoon - a silver spoon ? THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? 5i Ger. Aye! Ev. And Annette Ger. Disposed of one exactly similar this morn- ing early but for what purpose, no power could force her to disclose. Ev. {Clasping his hands). It was to save her father ! Oh, generous, exalted girl I to shield the life of the deserter Evrard, she would have sacri- ficed her own ! Ger. Evrard! Evrard! speak, are you known by the name of Evrard ? Ev. I am. Ger. Then be happy, for all is well The vil- lain Malcour is dismissed. I have been appointed Magistrate in his place, and rejoice to tell you, that among his papers, I found this which an- nuls the Order for your apprehension. Ev. Gerald ! do you mean Ger. Yes, Granville, you are pardon'd, your Captain generously confessed that he had pro- voked the insult which you offered; with his own hand he drew up a Memorial, and presented it to the King the King has signed it, and you are pardon'd. Mar. Come out, you villain ! (Bringing the Magpie from the Belfry -tower, and holding it from above the Porch.) - Here, godmother, here's the thief! your darling devil of a Magpie ! Benny, my boy, set the bell ringing for joy, and bring all the neighbours to hear the news ! (Benjamin pulls the Bell Huzzas ! repeated Inj the Crowd Henry bears Annette in /iLs arms to the Front, followed by the mul- titude, exclaiming, "Annette u innocent! Annette z> innocent /" Annette rushes into her Father's embrace] - 52 THE MAGPIE, OR THE MAID? Ev. Annette! my dear child ! Ann. Oh, Father ! Father ! Crowd. Huzza ! huzza ! She is innocent, she is innocent! Ger. Now friends, follow us. Those who have sympathised in our afflictions, have the best right to partake of our felicity ; and while we celebrate this happy triumph of innocence and virtue, let us not forget the danger of trusting to appear-* ances but learn to accuse with caution, and con- demn with justice. Crowd. Huzza! huzza! (The Characters form Tableau^ and the Curtain falls). THE END. toridon : Primed by JJ. M'Millan, J Bow-Street, Cerent-Garden. \ 2&obm0ott Crusoe: OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS A ROMANTIC MELO-DRAMA. PRODUCED, TOR THE FIRST TIME, AT THE C&eatre * KopaU Cotient * <$arBen, EASTER MONDAY, 1817. BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. THE ACTION OF THE PIECE UNDER THE DIRECTION OF MR, FARLEY. THE MUSICK COMPOSED AND SELECTED BY MR.WARE. LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHN MILLER, 25, BOW-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN; By B. M'Millan, Bow-Street, Covnt-Gardn. 1817. [Price Two Shillings.] DRAMATIS PERSONA. Robinson Crusoe, Mr. Farley. Friday (a young Carib attached to ^ t \ I Mr. Grimakli. nzm)) *. i.i * 3 Iglou, a Carib Chief (Friday's Fa- ^ ther), \ Mr * Bol S Iia - Pariboo (Chief of the Cannibal j Tribe), \ Mr - Norraan - Diego (Crusoe'' s Son, and Captain | ,, . , , .. of the Vessel), ) Bluff (the Mate of Diego's Ship), Mr. Emery. Windlass (the Boatswain, chief) *, q, , , Mutineer), 3 Swivel (the Gunner, attached to ) ** ^, Windlass), 3 Block (Foremast-many ditto), Mr. Howell. Gunnel (ditto), , Mr. King. Stern (ditto), Mr. W. Chapman, Nipcheese (Ship's Steward), Mr. Blanchard, Antikoo (an Indian), , Mr. Ellar. Ms (Crusoe's Wife), Mrs. Parker. Indian Girls, Quadroons, Misses Dennett. Cannibals of the Hostile Tribe, Caribs of the Friendly Tribe, Seamen, Mutineers, fyc. S?c. SCENE, The Island on which Crusoe was wrecked. ROBINSON CRUSOE; OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. ACT I. SCENE I. Represents that part of the Island which Robinson Crusoe calls his Farm. A steep hill occupies a portion of the back of the Scene, in the side of which is the mouth of the Cave, defended in front by an enclosure of Stakes, which having taken root, forms an impenetrable Hedge. On the opposite side, a gentle declivity intersected ivith trees, at the roots of which, lies the trunk of a Cedar, partly formed into a Canoe, but almost con- cealed by plants peculiar to the soil. The hori- zon exhibits the open Sea, and part of the Shore. Near the front, a hollow Tree. The Curtain rises to Music and a Vessel is per- ceived crossing in the Distance. Friday appears on the Palisade, looks out for his Master, and putting over a ladder, descends, ivith a basket, from which he produces a bread- cake, a bunch of raisins, and a small bottle of rum, intended for Crusoe ; he throws aside the bushes, and 2 ROBINSON CRUSOE; places the Provisions on the boiv of the Canoe. (A Dog barks). Fri. AhJ da Massa Crusoe. Music. ( The Dog runs on y bearing a Bird; Fri- day takes it, throws it over the Enclosure^ and the Dog bounds up the Ladder. Crusoe at the same instant enters, dressed and armed as de- scribed in his History. He bears the Umbrella 9 on the top of which is perched the Parrot. Fri- day welcomes Crusoe with extravagant joy)* Cru. Faithful, affectionate Friday ! Par. Friday ! Friday ! Fri. Ha ! ha ! ha ! (the Parrot files into the Enclosure. Friday takes off the Umbrella and re- turns). Cru. Now, Friday, take my gun. Music. (Friday alarmed yet fears to disoblige his Master). Cru. Courage, courage ! the thunder, as you call it, hurts only the wicked: why should you be terrified ? Would you not use it to defend your Master ? Remember, it was with this gun I saved your life, when the ferocious cannibals had doomed you to the $take, the victim of a horrid sacrifice. Music. (Friday intimates his gratitude, and tak- ing the Gun resolutely, carries it with the other articles up the Ladder"). Cru. What a treasure did heaven bestow, when it made me its humble instrument in sav- ing that poor Indian from destruction ! For years no human form had blessed my sight, no voice, except the sad and (earful echo of my own, hadstruck upon my almost palsied ear. Now a fellow beipg, an intellectual associate, cheers OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 3 my solitude, and I am content ! happy ! happy, did I say ! no, no, my wife ! my child whom now, if yet he lives, must have reached man's es- tate. Grant, oh grant he may never know his father's misery, Friday ! Fri. Massa! (from the Palisade.) Cm. We must to our daily task. Music. (Crusoe puts aside the branches which conceal the Canoe, and prepares himself for la- bour). Cru. For two years past, a portion of each day has been allotted to complete this almost hopeless labour ; but for the assistance of that faithful creature, I had abandoned the attempt. (He perceives the bottle, &c.) Ah, this is well, ac- customed to my wants, he anticipates them all. Music. (The Dog leaps the Palisade, with a Basket, from which Crusoe takes a Hatchet). Even my poor dog does not neglect his duty: shall I alone despair ! No, visions of home and liberty revive and strengthen in my heart. Music. (The Dog obeys the signal of Crusoe, and disappears as he begins to work Friday appears on the Hill, and starts at observing some unexpected object). Fri. Massa ! Massa ! Cru. What now? Fri. Canoes ! canoes ! Cru. Canoes ! Fri. One, two, tree, (runs down.) Cru. Ah ! perhaps a vessel relief ! No, no.; he counted several still it may be Music. (Friday has arrived close to his Master in great, terror). Cru. Why do you tremble ? B 2 4 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; Music. (Friday describes the arrival of Indians, by imitating their March ; then their purpose, b?/ crossing his hands, as if bound at the wrists like a Prisoner; lastly, their intention, by the action of dispatching the victim and devouring him) . Cru. Cannibals! a prisoner! a sacrifice? (Friday assents to each exclamation). Horrible ! may not your terrors have deceived you ? Music. (Friday instantly draws Crusoe aside, and points to the Shore, w here three Canoes are seen to pass). Ha! 't is even sothey land Iquick, remove every object that may betray us ; and above all, secure the dog. Music, Piano. (During which, Crusoe exclaims, " Fear nothing conceal yourself In the Canoe, and stir not speak not, on your life." Friday jumps through the bushes, and looks out, first at his Master, then towards the approaching In- dians. Crusoe prepares his gun, &c. and as he ascends the ladder, which he draws after hi?n, exclaims " they come / from the heights I shall command them)." Music, Forte. (Pariboo, the Cannibal Chief, en- ters examines the spot, and beckons forward his troop, who having made a circuit of the Stage, place their prisoner Iglou against a stake ; and at this instant, Friday exclaims in great agitation, "Father/" The Savages pause in alarrn^ Pariboo brandishes his Glut), and the rest immediately regain confidence. Iglou *runs forward, and implores his life he is again seized, and as Pariboo advances to dispatch him, Friday throws forward the Flask of Rum. The groupe look round with surprize, till the OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 5 Chief, impatient at the interruption, rushes with savage impetuosity to the sacrifice. Crusoe at this instant fires the Indians rush off yelling with apprehension. Pariboo, more resolute, ap- pears to mark the spotjrom whence the fire pro- ceeded. Crusoe again fires, and the Chief bounds off. Friday springs from his conceal- ment, and raises his Father, who trembles with his face to the earth in the utmost terror. Cru- soe arrives injroni]. Fri. Oh Massa, Massa, thunder kill him ! Cru. Not so I fired beyond them, no one is hurt. Music, Lively. (Friday, rejoiced, runs for the Bottle, supports Iglou, and puts it to his mouth). Cru. What means this unusual agitation ? he must have seen this man before. Friday, do you remember hirn? Fri. Oh Massa! him Iglou, Friday father ! Cru.. His father! Providence I thank thee ! even in this solitude I do not live in vain I have restored a parent to his offspring ! He'll soon re- cover; lead him to the cave, whilst I observe these monsters in their flight, and see that none remain. Music. (Iglou recovers starts at the appearance of Crusoe Friday explains to him the obliga- tion they are under to his Master. Iglou falls at the feet q/'Crusoe, Friday on the opposite side, embracing his knees). Cru. Happy, happy moment I Tableau Scene closes. ff ROBINSON CRUSOE ; SCENE II. The entrance of a Wood near the Shore. Enter SWIVEL and NIPCHEESE. Swiv. Come, master steward, let out a reef and freshen your way ; you lag astern as if you were afraid of being boarded. Nip. So I am afraid, and no wonder, considering the cursed scrape I have got into. Plague on the mutiny, I say, instead of saving an honest penny, I may be hanged like a dog, and lose all. Did you say the boatswain had turned the mate ashore ? Swiv. I did; he would not join us, so we set him adrift without rudder or compass. He strag- gled off to seek a birth here in the woods ; but what argufies that, you are not afraid of a man without arms, are you ? Nip. No ! but he has two devilish long arms, to my certain knowledge, and a couple of thump- ing fists at the end of them too. I shouldn't like him to settle accounts with me just now. Swiv. Well, don't stand palavering here 'twas this way we heard the gun. Nip. Was it ? Then I think we had better go the other (moving off) . Swiv. What, sheer off! Nip. Oh, I'm not ashamed to confess my fail- ings ; I always have more satisfaction in escaping danger than meeting it. Swiv. Ay, ay, Master Nipcheese, we know you'd rather grub in the bread-room than go tloft. Nip. I am glad of it : the worse you know of me, the less chance you'll have of being disap- OR, THE BOLD BUCANiERS. 7 pointed. Courage is all very proper in a gunner, but what have I to do with it, that am only ship- steward and super-cargo ? Swiv. Why, you chicken-hearted ungrateful cur, won't you save all your slops and bread bags by it ? Nip. That's very true ; I shouldn't like to lose my little property. Swiv. Then brace up your heart, and be a man. 'Nip. Well, I will, I will; give me your hand; Zooks, I've got some mettle in me, though I don't brag of it. (The Swages yell without). What the devil's that ! Swiv. Eh! we shall have a squall presently. (The Savages shout). Nip. A squall with a vengeance ! Zounds ! they are savages ! Swiv . And bearing down upon us \ Nip. Lord save us, and bless us ! (Runs into the Wood the Savages fly across the Stage in confusion / Pariboo the Iast 9 who turns to see if he is pursued}. (Nipcheese comes forth to see if there are any others, and suddenly facing Pariboo, is pe- trified with alarm. Swivel appears makes a blow at the Chief, who avoids it with agility^ and rushes out. Nipcheese applies a case-bot- tle to his lips}. Swiv. They are all off. Nip. Most happy to hear it ! Swiv. There was a jolly crew of them. Nip. Yes, very jolly! I shouldn't like to have improved my acquaintance though with their long legged first lieutenant. Never saw such ft ferocious looking dog In my days. 8 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; Swiv. They are Caribs, I take it, that cross over from the main, to sacrifice, and So forth. Nip. To do what ? 'Swiv. Belike you are not up to their rigs. Nip. No can't say I am. Swiv. Why, when they take any of their ene- mies in battle, d'ye see, they just pitch upon a little quiet spot, like this, and have a feast. Nip. A feast! Cannibals! Are you quite sure they won't come back, and give us an invitation ? Siyiv. Not they; they are more frightened than you are. See, they are making along shore like a fleet of colliers. Music. (Robinson Crusoe enters, as if tracing the retreat of the Indians, and starts at observ- ing Strangers). Nip. They embark! they get aboard their canoes ! Wind and tide be with 'em ! Phew ! bless us all, what an awkward thing it would have been, to have made one at their mess ! (Drinks) . (Swivel takes the Bottle). Cru. Europeans 1 Englishmen ! Let me be cautious ! (He enters the Wood and watches). Nip. But where's the boatswain where's Windlass all this time with our prisoners ? Cru. Prisoners ! What can they mean ? (Apart). Swiv. He'll soon heave in sight ; perhaps the woman has been troublesome. Nip. I never knew a woman that wasn't, my wife in particular ; but is she to be left ashore too? Swiv. To be sure ; we must have no tell-tales when we run the vessel into a strange port. On, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. Cru. They are mutineers, pirates ! Swiv. Besides, what should we get by parting Diego from his mother ? Cru. Diego ! his mother ! Merciful powers ! Can it be possible ? Swiv. 'Twas the only way of getting rid of our difficulties. Nip. Humph ! and a pretty sure one of put- ting an end to theirs. However, she'll care less for the loss of her property, than her disappoint- ment in finding this man this what-d'ye-call him, that was lost so many years ago. Swiv. Robinson Nip. Aye, the same Robinson Crusoe. Egad, there's not one wife in a thousand, that would run half the world over, as she has done, in search of an old husband. (Scuffle without}. Swiv. They make resistance See (Whistle heard). Bear a hand that's the boatswain's whistle. [Exit Swivel. ffip. I know it I wish 'twas his last whistle with all my soul ! .That fellow frightens me more than Mrs. Nipcheese. Oh, that I was safe under her command again ! Any torment would be bet- ter than such a life of jeopardy. Wind, (without). Does the rascal skulk ! Jump upon deck here. (Another ivhistle). Nip. I'm coming ! Bull -dog ! Oh ! [Exit Nipcheese. [Music."] Cru. Does ray sight mock me ! These tears perhaps No ! 'tis real my faithful heart at once acknowledges a kindred soul ! It is it is my wife! What's to be done ? To attack them singly would be madness 1 I'll regain my habitation by the short path through the wood watch, in secret 10 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; the departure of these ruffians, then spring into her arms, and seek no home beyond them. [Exit to the Wood. Music. (Diego's voice instantly heard without}. Diego. Traitor, unhand me ! Wind, (without). No words bear them along! (Ines and Diego in chains, are forced on with vio- lence by a party of the Mutineers, Swivel and Nipcheese following Windlass, the Boat- swain, acting as- Commander). Diego. Infamous, abandoned wretches! Will not one victim serv ? e ? Lost as you are to every sense of honour and of duty, do not add cruelty to insult, do not forget that you are men! Wind. 'Tis too late to parley, Captain : we have taken our course and must stick to it, if its a bad one, that's our look out. You shan't be left destitute, but we are too far on our way now, to ware ship. Diego. 'Tis not for myself I ask. I know too well your guilty project makes compassion for the man you thus have injured, hopeless. Be- hold that female, defenceless and forlorn ! If you are not dead to every feeling of humanity if the prayers of the unfortunate can reach your hearts, ere it be too late, shew mercy to a woman, and spare, oh, spare and save my mother ! Music. (Ines expresses her determination not to be separated from her Son, by appropriate ac tion). Wind. No more piping, we've had enough for one spell. Where's the steward ? Nip. Here! Wind, Lead them up the hill, and take off their irons. Nip. Me! OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 11 Wind. Yes, its all you are fit for, that I see. We'll bring along the stores. Swivel, you bear him company, and mind the milk-sop doesn't let 'em slip. Nip. What! do you doubt my firmness in the cause ? Wind. No growling out with your cheese- toaster, if you are not afraid of the sight on't. Nip. Afraid I there (drawing his Cutlass), stony-hearted rascal ! how I should like to run him thro* the paunch! (Aside), Wind. Now then, off with you, while I col- lect the stragglers. Nip. I must put a good face on it. Come, we can't wait here all day (with assumed conse- quence). Diego. Must I submit without a struggle? Wretch ! these chains that bind rny hands, have not subdued my spirit. (Nipcheese alarmed), Nip. Come, come, Captain, no swaggering- it won't do with me. fines entreats Diego to be patient). Diego. Let me not fall without a blow I have strength to make these fetters instruments of vengeance, and thus [Music^] (He swings up the Chains to make a Mow at Nip- cheese, who starts back Windlass and the rest spring forward, and arrest the arm of Diego). Ines. (Likewise interposing). Not so, not so, 'till heaven itself deserts us, why should we de- spair ! Diego. Well, I submit ; but think not, guilty and obdurate men, such crimes will pass unpumsh- 02 12 ROBINSON CRUSOE; ed. The prayers of the unfortunate will be heard even in a desert. Wind. Away with them. [Mzm'c.] \Exeunt Diego, Ines, Swivel, and Nipcheese. Now, my lads, as I am Captain, it behoves me to make a bit of an oration, just that we may understand each other I'm told there are some aboard, that would rather stick to their old commander, than sail under Jack Windlass and a free flag ; but the fir3t that mutinies shall be run up to the yard-arm without mercy, by way of example like to the rest. You that are jolly boys, shall share alike in all we have, and all we may have ! We'll sink the Banian days sleep eight hours instead of four, work little, eat a great deal, and drinlc a double allowance of grog every Saturday night. Mut. Hurra ! Wind. What, you like that, do you ? I thought I should make you shew your grinders at last heave along the lumber ! With the next tide we'll sail, turn our freight to cash, and then hurra for plunder, and the bold Bucaniers ! the close of the following Glee, the Mutineers assist each other with the Stores intended for the Captives 9 and bear them off). GLEE AND CHORUS. When the anchor's a-peak, And the ship under weigh, The wide ocean we'll seek, Like a shark for its prey. We'll take what we can, boys, Wherever we steer ; Friend or foe, His all one To a bold Bucanier. OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 13 Let the signal be iieard That a sail is in sight ; Sword and hand we must board, If (hey dare us to fight. No danger shall daunt us, No odds make us fear, We must conquer or die Like a bold Bucanier. Music continues. (As tkey depart, Pariboo ap- pears expressing rage at the cowardice of his Tribe, who have paddled . off in their Canoes, and left him alone on the Island He suddenly marks the retreat of the Mutineers, and follows them, with a determination to regain posesssion of his lost victim, Jglou) . SCENE III. Represents that part of the Island which Robinson Crusoe calls his Farm. A steep hill occupies a portion of the bqck of the Scene, in the side of which is the mouth of the Cave, defended in front by an enclosure of Stakes, which having taken root, forms an impenetrable Hedge. On the opposite side, a gentle declivity intersected with trees , at the roots of which, lies the trunk of a Cedar, partly formed into a Canoe, but almost con- cealed by plants peculiar to the soil. The hori- zon exhibits the open Sea, and part of the Shore. Near the front, a hollow Tree. ROBINSON CRUSOE, IGLOU, and FBIDAY dis- covered. Cru. Yes, grateful Indian, gladly I accept your offer ; but let me understand it thoroughly; the slightest misconception might be fatal. You tell me (addressing Friday) that in a few hours 14 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; your father may return with some people of whom he is the Chief. ^Friday assents Iglou expresses impatience at not understanding them). The small canoe in which I surveyed the island, though insufficient for my escape, will serve his purpose in crossing to the main. (Friday again assents Iglou more impatient). Good, should the wind hold, he and his friends promise to regain this shore by day- break. \_Music .] (Friday describes to Iglou the Dawn paddling of a Canoe, and the march of their Tribe to which Iglou assents with vehemence, enforcing his anxious wishes to serve Crusoe, by appro- priate action}. (Friday starts at seeing a strange object; and Iglou at the same time grasps his Tomahawk Crusoe directs his attention towards the point to which Friday signs 9 who at the some instant exclaims " Massa, se da)." Cm. SIMnce ! 'tis one of those strangers whom I told you of unless he should perceive us, let him pass they may not all be guilty ! Music. (The group retire Bluff is heard sing- ing without, and enters ; a Cudgel under his arm, and a Tobacco-box in his hand). Bluff. " Billy Tailor was a brisk feller, fall of mirth and full of glee, And his true love he did diskiver to a lady fair and free." Ah, it won't do T may sing for my allowance long enough now, before the boatswain pipes to dinner. My heart is sunk five fathom many a On, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 15 losing voyage have I made in my time, and wea- thered many a rough gale ; but its damn'd hard to be taken aback at last by a set of swabs its all along with Jack Windlass the boatswain, I was the man that taught him to hand, reef, and steer, and now the dog leaves me like a wreck on a lee-shore, at the mercy of wind and weather, Well, (taking a quid) it 's all one " a light heart and a thin pair of bree " ey! (Seeing Crusoe/ Cru. I'll venture. (Advances). f Friday and Iglou appear). Bluff. Who the devil IWhat cheer, ho! Where are you bound, from whence came you ? Cru. Do not shun me, we are fellow suffer- ers, and should assist each other. Bluff. Indeed ! well, I have seen strange sights afore now, but smite my timbers such a cruiser as you ! Cru. I am a seaman like yourself, cast on an unknown coast. Bluff. Like enough your rigging has seen some service but, mayhap you take me for a Bucanier no such thing, my name's Harry Bluff, as true a heart as ever broke biscuit. I'm a true friend to the Service, and an enemy to all mutineers ; so, if you are in the picarooning line, you'd best put about, d'ye see,and let me shoot a-head clear of you, Cru. I was not mistaken we must be friends Bluff. Ay, ay ! there's two words go to that bargain tho' sheer off, or I'll be foul o'your top- lights. Music. (The Indians, at the appearance of con- tention, start forward). 16 ROBINSON CRUSOE; Cm. Hold ! touch him not ! Bluff. Whew ! am I to be run down by a fleet o' small craft ? Hark'ee brother, three to one are long odds, but if you, or any of your squadron, offer to board me without provocation, damn me if I don't scuttle some of your nobs before I strike. Cru. Do not mistake ! tho' you have not seen, you surely must have heard of Crusoe. Bluff. What, Robin! Cru. The same. Bluff. Why, you don't mean to say you, ey ! Cru. Yes, Robinson Crusoe, the father of Diego, the husband of Ines, those unfortunate beings whom an abandoned set of miscreants now drag in chains. Bluff. I -know ! say no more. Ods heart ! I havn't been better pleased here lend us a cut- lass j if your shipmates are jolly boys, we'll be too strong for 'em yet. Cru. That must depend on circumstances : we must run no risks ; if they are necessary, I have arms and ammunition in abundance. Bluff. Why, have you tho' ? Well, an' how are you ? Cru. Friday! (He gives directions to fetch Arms) . Bluff. Ecod, I shall sing to some tune yet ! " A light heart and a thin pair of ." Here, take a bit o' baccy (Crusoe declines the offer). Oh, well, as you like. Cru. Be careful, they are all charged ! (Iglou and Friday are taking Arms over the Pal- lisade). Bluff. Henceforth we'll cruise in the same lati- tudes. Hang me if I don't stick by you as long as I can carry a rag of canvass. OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 17 Cru. Quick ! these ruffians turned towards the hill, and will soon appear. (Friday and Iglou run forward with Arms) . Bluff. Never you mind, I'll soon clear for ac- tion. We'll play 'em a salt-water trick yet, may- hap. I say, Robin, this loblolly boy of yours seems a hearty sort o' chap ! give us your fist, blacky there's the hand of a seaman for you, you dog ! ^Shakes hands with Friday, who is greatly pleased with his new alliance, till BlufFs hearty gripe changes his countenance, his grimace fully evinces the Seaman s strength Iglou angry). Cru. Now listen to my purpose. Bluff. Heave away ! Cru. My first object is to ensure the safety of Ines and her son if they attempt to injure them, we fire ! Bluff. Ay, a broadside ! Cru. If they leave their captives unmolest- ed, we must create no alarm, but let them de- part. Bluff. What! with ship and cargo ! and leave us to drive under bare poles, without a mess o* provision aboard ? Cru. Their numbers must eventually over- power us. Bluff. Well, well, you are commanding officer; but if I come athwart Master Windlass in a snug corner, he'd better be in Greenland, that's all! [Music, piano, ,] Cru. They come! Bluff. All hands to quarters then ! (They conceal themselves). 18 ROBINSON CRUSOE; INES and DIEGO enter, in deep dejection, attended by SWIVEL and NIPCHEESE. Nip. Ah, this appears to me a very pleasant retired sort of a spot, where a man may reflect on the vicissitudes of hurrVan life without much fear of interruption. What do you think, Mas- ter Gunner, ey ? Swiv. Ay, ay, this will do ; they'll have no- body to overhaul 'em here. Nip. (Aside). Except the savages. Well then, take off their bracelets. I could find in my heart now to do the poor creatures a kindness. I cer- tainly possess a great deal of compassion, but somehow I require so much pity for myself, that I never have any to spare for other people. Swiv. (who has been employed in taking off their Chains). Now then, let's join our mess- s mates. Nip. Pho ! you know they'll join us presently. Diego. A last effort ! (to his Mother, who by action expresses the uselessness of the attempt). One moment. Nip. Ey ! Diego. Hear me; on the score of humanity I perceive you are inexorable ; not so to your inte- rest, or your personal safety. Think what must be your fate, should justice overtake you. Nip. Excuse me, I'd rather not. Diego. There are some in the ship who con- template this crime with detestation and abhor- rence ; aid them to quell the mutiny, succeed in accomplishing our rescue, I not only guarantee your pardon, but promise, on my oath, to re- compense your fidelity, .with a sum far greater than you can ever hope to gain ,by persevering in an act of guijt. OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. J9 Nip. Indeed! will you! well, I Swiv. What! Nip. Oh no it it's impossible ! Swiv . Would you bribe us ? Nip. Ay, would you bribe us ? I'll get the gunner out of the wuy, and then sneak, back pardon and reward ! Must have an eye to busi- ness. (Aside). Diego. Speak ! (While Diego directs his attention to Swivel, Nip- cheese steals off, and conceals himself in the hollow tree). Swiv. Not I ; a man can't serve below and aloft at the same time, Captain. I wish you no ill, for my part, but we have hoisted the red flag, and I must stick to it, sink or swim. [Exit. Diego. 'Tis done, and not a hope remains ! Oh, mother! we are lost for ever ! (Sinking into the arms of Ines). (Crusoe advances, restrained by Bluff). Cru. I can resist no longer. Bluff. Mind what you're at tho' drop gently along-side, or you'll frighten her out of her seven senses. You may ha' been a good-looking chap once, but I'll be shot if you're so now. Cru. Ines ! fines clasps her hands in mingled surprize and alarm Diego starts from his abstraction at the exclamation}. Diego. Ah ! what prodigy is this ? (pause). Cru. Has the unrelenting hand of time so transformed me, that I live not in the memory of her who knew and loved me best ? In absence still have I blessed thee, Ines ! Ines. Crusoe ! D 2 ^0 ROBINSON CRUSOE; Cru. She knows me ! Music. (Ines rushes forward to his embrace). Diego. Merciful heav 7 en ! 'tis he! it is my father. Oh father! to meet you thus Nip. What's that? an Ourang Outang ! Cru. I know 1 have heard it all our present security must be effected hereafter our escape. Bluff. Captain ! Diego. Bluff! Bluff. Ay, Captain, here am I, all my timbers repaired, new rigged, and ready for another cruise, as you see. Come, Mistress, don't be down- hearted ; swab the spray from your bows, and coil up your spirits. Our enemies have more hands, 'tis true, and superior weight o' metal ; what then, fortune is not always with the strong- est, you know. Diego. Worthy fellow ! as bold a seaman, and as true as ever set face to weather. (To Crusoe). Bluff. Belay, belay, Captain ! I'm no such wonder ; bless you, there's many as good a man as I, and amongst these raggamuffins too, if they dared but shew themselves. Cru. Indeed ! are you assured of that ? Bluff. I know it. Windlass and the gunner carry it with a high hand to be sure but as to that thief, Nipcheese, he'd sooner steal eggs out of the hen-coops, than run his thick skull against a brace p' bullets at any time. But only let me get sight of him ! I'll make his head sing and simmer like a pot of chowder. Nip. Curse my curiosity ! (From the Tree). Bluff. Ey ! Diego. What now ? Bluff. I thought I heard somebody speak, didn't you ? Diego. Where ? Which way ? On, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 21 Bluff. Here, close at hand ! Cru. We must be sudden then. Diego, take this (Giving a Cutlass). Come, prepare! Fri- day ! ( Friday and Iglou, who have hitherto remained without, run forward Ines starts). Bluff. Nay, don't be scared ! that's Robin's loblolly-boy, and Mother's his powder-monkey, I take it both rated on his books as able-bodied men. Cru. Now, mark me ; unless we can secure their party without alarm, it must not be attempt- ed. An unsuccessful effort would destroy us if you hear my signal, spring upon them at the instant, but even then reserve your fire 'till I give the word. Diego. Enough ! we'll obey precisely. Cru. Friday, may I crust you ? Fri. (Nodding assent). Me no afraid now, massa. Cru. You comprehend. (Friday assents). Let all dispose themselves to advantage. Bluff. I think that hollow tree would be no bad place. (Nipcheese terrified). Cru. Tis too confined j Friday shall ascend it, and give us notice of their movements Ines what would you do ? (Seeing her armed with an Axe). Ines. I hope nothing ; yet if a woman's feeble aid is needful, doubt not my resolution. Nip. Why, they're quite an army, I declare. Music. (Nipcheese peeping out, sees the Black, and pops down in dismay. Friday mounts the tree. As he looks off\ the whistle is heard All the Parties are still in view. Iglou has crossed the Stage with all the circumspection of a Savage, to the foot of the tree, and is anxiously waiting the report of Friday). 22 ROBINSON CRUSOE; Bluff. The whistle ! d'ye hear ? Cru. Hush! (Friday, the instant the whistle is heard, claps his hands, makes a sign to his Master, and rapidly descends ). [Music]. Cru. Close! close! (They all disappear). Wind, (without). Swivel ! Nipcheese ! Hil- lioh! (Whistle). Block, (without). Hillioh, master steward ! gunner ! plague on you, where are you ? Enter WINDLASS, followed by the rest. Wind. Where the devil have they stowed themselves ? set down the grub ! (The Seamen place the Chest and the Bags at the foot of the tree). Block. Look! (Seeing the Fetters). They've been safe moored, however ; but they've left their silk stockings behind them. Wind. Slipped their cables ! I don't like this who's with the boat ? Block. Gunwale, and the coxswain. Wind. All's well then ; Swivel's a true man he must have lost his reckoning in this outlandish navigation ; but, if that land-shark, Nipcheese, has played false, he shall smart for it Hillioh I Block. It's no use to hail them here, we should have brought speaking trumpets ; our voices are lost among these woods. Wind. We must make ourselves heard, or leave 'em to make the best on't j Nipcheese would be no loss, but we can't spare Swivel the tide ebbs fast too, and it looks squally. I have it, fire a volley 'twill be answered from the ship- and if that signal doesn't bring 'em too, nothing will. OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 23 Block. Right! Wind. All ready ? present ! (Without placing themselves immediately in rank, they are so disposed as not to injure each other, by pointing to different directions ; consequently to the imminent peril of the concealed party). Steady ! don't level so low, 'twill deaden the re- port. In the air, lads ! fire 1 Cru. Upon 'em ! f Music J. (The instant the discharge takes place, the con- cealed party rush forward. Windlass encounters Crusoe, and the rest are variously engaged Nipcheese escapes in the confusion Ines rescues her Husband, who has been disarmed, while Bluff", having disabled his antagonist, rushes forward, and with his Cudgel fells the Seaman, who instantly encounters Crusoe when he recovers his Sword Friday at the same moment over- powering Windlass. Diego and Iglou likewise subdue their antagonists, and the Curtain Jails on the Tableau. END OP ACT I, ROBINSON CRUSOE ; ACT II. SCENE I. The Stage represents the Interior of Crusoe 'A Cave. Opposite the Spectator is the Entrance. To the right, near the front, is a Door which leads to a Subterraneous Passage^ made of a fiat stone,, and adapted to the Cavity, so as to escape notice until it is opened. There are various shelves, upon which are goods and utensils taken from the Wreck ; likewise other articles which the industry of Crusoe has fabricated for his use and convenience. An open Chest stands to the right. Two Chairs, covered with skins, and a rude Table covered with the same the whole practi- cable a Lamp hangs at the side Diego eagerly examining the different objects Crusoe and Ines in conversation. Cru. Yes, Ines, such were the reverses which befel a man, once possessed of every luxury,- every comfort that domestic happiness could give 'tis past, forgotten! this joyful meeting has repaid me all. I was the only being that escaped with life ; and the desire to preserve it, aiding the re- sources of my mind, with time and patience, I constructed this dwelling. Diego. But, your arms, your stores ? Cru. They were taken from the wreck of the vessel, which for three months held together. Puring that period, I recovered those articles, OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 25 valuable beyond all calculation ! beneath that table is a cell, where I concealed my powder, and matters of equal importance. Diego. Where do you repose ? Cru. There ! (Throws open the secret Door). Diego. In that dungeon, so dark and damp ? Cru. It possessed a quality to me more ser- viceable than light or warmth safety ! it has two separate outletsone in the wood close without the cave, the other among the rocks upon the beach. I trembled lest the Caribs should in time discover my abode, and resolved, in case of a surprize, to make retreat certain. Accident com- pleted what the united efforts of Friday and my- self scarcely could accomplish. We discovered an excavation leading to the spot where I was first washed on shore. But, come, we must prepare for our departure. While we have time, let us secure those things that now may be of service. Music. (Goes into the Dormitory Ines follow- ing, stops at the entrance Retreats in alarm, and falls on the neck of Diego). Diego. So fearless in danger, yet so appre- hensive in safety. Dismiss these idle terrors, they will unnerve my father. The villains arc confined in the outer cave, and guarded by the faithful Friday. Cru. Now then, we have nothing to detain us. (Returning from the Cell 9 and giving a Casket to Diego). Diego. A casket! (Ines reccognizes it}. Cru. You well remember it, Ines 't is the same I took from San Salvador when last we parted. (Diego places the Casket on the Table). Diego. What have you there ? 26 ROBIN 7 SON CRUSOE; Cru. The journal of my exile ! a treasure far more useful to my fellow creatures than that splendid dross, it tells them never to despair, it teaches them to place their trust in that Power, who can befriend the wretched outcast, when the whole world abandons him. (Ines places the Book in the Chest) . Diego. By this pass we shall avoid all chance of observation from the stragglers. Bluff has doubtless secured the boat, and must be waiting for us with impatience. But Friday your faithful Friday! Cru. He shall not be forgotten. (Surveying the Cave). Farewell, scenes of my sorrows and my sufferings, a long, a last farewell! (Pressing awaij a tear). Bluff, (without). Hillioh! Diego. Hark ! some one calls 1 Bluff, (without). Hillioh, Captain! Cru. 'Tis the seaman. Diego. Bluff! what can have happened! Hol- loa ! here ! (Runs to the back). Music. (Ines shews alarm). Cru. Be patient, all may be well. (Bluff ad- vances). Bluff. Well, this is the queerest navigation I ever sailed. I were obliged to throw out signal for a pilot, Captain, or I should never have found my way into such a blind port as this. Diego. Your news ? Bluff- Bad enough might ha' been worse. I've fallen in with the enemy's cruisers, and was obliged to scud. (Ines expresses anxiety). Cru. But the boat ! OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 27 Diego. Is it in our possession ? Bluff. No, it was sunk in action. Diego. Sunk ! destroyed ! (Ines clasps her hands in despair). Bluff. Nay, don't strike your colours yet, it isn't so bad as all that comes to. (To Ines). Diego. Explain ! Cru. Speak! Bluff. It's soon said : according to orders, I made the best of my way along shore, and got a-board the boat snug enough, when, who should heave in sight but Gunwale and the coxswain. Come, thinks I, I can manage a couple of you, and prepared my small arms accordingly. Diego. Quick ! the event ! Bluff. All on a sudden, in the wake o'them I saw two more ; what's to be done now, says I ! (A man is but a man, you know), down I lay howsomever, they soon spied me, and began cracking away being pretty dark, I didn't value their shot a pinch of oakum, but knowing it was all up with us if they got possession of the boat, with one blow I stove a plank in her bottom she filled I jumped ashore dash'd through their squa- dron, kept up a running fight, and here I am. Cru. 'Twas well done ! , Diego. May they not recover the boat ? Bluff. No but we can, and repair it too there's comfort for you at low-water she'll be high and dry again. Cru. Did they pursue you far ? Bluff. Yes, close under the land here. Cru. So near ! (Ines alarmed). Diego. Who were the two last ? Bluff. The gunner, Swivel, and that old bum- boat-woman, Nipcheese; he was upset in the E 2 28 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; scuffle directly, and there I left him sprawling like a frog in a fit. Cru. Let the worst happen then, we can match them. Bluff. Match 'em ! Why, bless you, Nipcheese has no more heart in him than a rotten ratline, and as to the coxswain, I've strong notion my last fire carried away some of his rigging. I saw him make an awkward sort of a bow, like, at parting, as much as to say, thank you, that will do, I've got quite enough, Music. (The Dog barks the Groupe in conster- nationFriday rushes in terror-struck}. Cru. What now ! Fri. Oh, Massa, Massa, white man free \ Cru. Escaped ! Bluff. What, broke from their lashings ? This looks bad. Cru. Those who pursued you, have discovered and released the rest. Dieg/. Then all is lost ! Bluff. No such thing ! (To Ines). We may surmount the futtock shrouds of despair yet ; you shall never founder till old Bluff's a sheer hulk, (During this, Friday explains the accident to Crusoe). Cru. ^Separated ! in search of our concealment ? Then we may still avoid them Should we be driven to extremity, remember the secret pass. (Diego tkrotvs it open). Collect more^mmunition, quick ! (To Friday). You, Diego, hasten to the shore and kindle a fire an the rock this will af- ford the means. (Giving him a tinder-box). 'Twill direct the friendly Caribs to the spot we most rtiay need them. Diego. It shall be doae, but, my mother OR, THE BOLD BUCAN1ERS. 2f/ Cru. Must remain here under the charge of Friday, while myself and Bluff endeavour* to de- coy our enemies further from the cave. If we can elude their vigilance 'till Iglou and his party land, all danger ceases. Away, Diego! and re- member my instructions. Music. (During this, Friday has drawn the Ta- ble aside, and opens a Trap beneath it, from whence he brings Cartridges, and distributes them rapidly. Ines clings to her Son, who with difficulty quits her embrace, and enters the secret pass. Crusoe, greatly distrest at her situation 9 directs Friday to protect her, and beckoning to the Seaman, leaves the Cave. Friday has closed the Trap, replaced the Table, and extinguished the Lamp Ines sinks on a part of the Rock the Moon, sinking over the Trees ivithout, gives a sombre light. Nipcheese at pears at the en- trance). Nip. So I have got out of harm's way at last sneaked out o'the battle gloriously yes, I shall be snug here What a night have I passed ! buf- fetted by one party, and abused 'by the other! They set no more value on my precious life, than they would on a mouldy biscuit. (Friday perceives Nipcheese the instant he speaks^ and conceals himself as the other advances, by means of the Table Nipcheese takes out his Bottle). This is the only friend I have in the world, but I've drawn upon him for comfort so often, I fear he won't honour my drafts much longer. . Jnes has revived, and observes Nip- . She looks round the Cave for Friday, but does not perceive him). ~. - ' I snouid never keep my spirits up, without SO ROBINSON CRUSOE ; pouring spirits down. What's here ? a table, and a box ey ! why, this must be the very place the boatswain ordered us to seek ! It is, the cave of Crusoe ! Lord ! I hope he's not at home i I suppose the firing, just now, alarmed the whole family ! It did me, I know. I wonder what's in this box, it's monstrous heavy as I'm an honest man, here's the key fasten'd to it, with a bit of rope-yarn. (Opening the box) Money ! yes, by my curiosity, gold ! and a case of jewels ! precious stones ! Now, if I don't take care of it, Windlass and the rest will commit a robbery, and call it lawful spoil! they shan't say I'm greedy. I'll manage it as most prize- agents do pocket the best part, for the trouble of divid- ing the rest. (During this speech Ines directs her attention to the treasure, and prepares to address Nipcheese, when the exclamation of Friday arrests her. ) Fri. (unable to contain his rage). He dam rogue ! [Music. ~\ Nip. Ey ! (Slapping down the lid of the Box in terror). Who's there? Who's, that spoke ? Swiv. (without). 'Twas I, Swivel ! Where are you ? (Music ceases). Nip. I'm just in time (Secures the Case). Its the gunner he always calls me rogue so I'm satisfied. (Turns and sees Ines, who is seeking con- cealment). Ines! Fire and faggots ! If she tells those fellows, I'm a dead man ! SWIVEL and GUNWALE enter. Swiv. Well, have you found out where he swings his hammock ? On, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 31 Nip. Yes, in this cave, and there stands the mistress. Swiv. His wife ! Nip. I'm glad they're come, I should never have managed that she dragon by myself. Swiv. Where is the Captain ? Ines. Safe ! safe on board the vessel. Swiv. Escaped to the ship I impossible ! And Crusoe is he with him ? Ines. No he vowed never' to quit this spot, and insisted on my remaining with him. Swear to restore me to Diego's arms, at once you gain his favour and a mine of wealth. If I can de- ceive them, we may yet be saved! (Aside). Nip. Convey you to your son ! I thought 'twas your only wish to recover your old hus- band. (She dissents, and shews the Casket). Swi. Money ! Gun. Gold! Nip. (Aside). I'm glad she says nothing about the jewels. (The Seamen , who have stood in amaze, are addi- tionally astonished when they open the Box). Ines. (Looking round). More ! All all shall be yours. Nip. (Aside). Zounds! is there more ? Gunw. Swivel ? Swiv. What's the Boatswain to us ? Nip. Every man for himself, say I (Taking the Casket). What say you ? Gunw. But how to get her off? The boat's sunk. Nip Wait in the wood 'till day-break. Swiv. And then hail the vessel so we can. Ines. Are you resolved ? Swiv. We'll do it. 32 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; Nip. Never fear us, we'll do any thing for money. (Friday by accident his fall the lid of the Chest Jnes screams). Nip. What the deuce was that ? Why do you look so terrified ? Swiv. Be quick, our comrades will come along- side else. (Tnes points to the Table, C^c. Friday, who has attended to the foregoing, is behind the Chest). Nip. A cell, an excavation ! I understand. (Ines has put back the Table, and now raised the Trap Gunwale descends, and Swivel stands a step down). Siviv. I say, messmates, what a cargo of riches ! Nip. Fair play, my lads, below ! We share alike, remember. Swiv. Look you there's no foul play aloft ; you remain and keep guard, here Nip. I will. fines, greatly distressed, looks again for aid, and catches the eye of Friday). How devilish dark it is. (Looking down). Is it very deep ? I'll not trust the rascals they'll be helping themselves holloa ! (Nipcheese having descended a step or two, Friday springs saddenly forward, and drives him down the Trap. Ines drops on her knee in thankful- ness, and turning, catches the hand of Friday, who is now greatly delighted. At this moment, Bluff rushes in pale and disordered). [Music during the foregoing']. Bluff. All's lost ! you must not remain here an instant ! Oil, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 33 Jnes. My husband ! speak ! Bluff. I can't I'm choaked! he is taken by that devil, Windlass. f Friday in an agony of grief In&s in despair). Bluff 1 . (Dragging her off). Cornel come! Ines. Never! for Crusoe I have lived with him I'll die! Wind. (Without}. This way! Force him along! Cru. (Without}. Oh, Ines! oh my wife! Music. (At the voice of her Husband, Ines breaks away from Bluff (who enters the secret pass) and rushes into the arms of Crusoe, who, secured by Windlass and another, has forced his way to the Cave : they are dragged off" together. Nipcheese ascends from the Cell. Friday seizes him by the collar , and encounters Gunwale during the combat Swivel ascends Nipcheese is tumbled into the Chest by Friday ; he disables Swivel, whofiies the combat con- tinues. Nipcheese watches his advantage, and escapes. Friday is disarmed, and contrives to avoid the blows aimed at him till he gains a pistol, tvith which he shoots the Mutineer, and jumping on the Chest, looks down on the body in a mingled emotion of alarm and joy}. SCENE II. Part of the Cedar Wood, and one of the Outlets from the Subterraneous Pass the Cannibal Chief, Pariboo, who has beert left on the Island, here appears skulking about on the watch for Crusoe. Hearing a step within the Cave, he retires, with expressions of vengeance. BlufT 34? ROBINSON CRUSOE ; comes forth hastily, having missed the Avenue thai leads to the shore, pauses, and listens. Bluff. All's quiet, there's no pursuit ! O, that I had but saved her ! that I had but died with her, rather than bear such heavy tidings to her son i it will be his turn next Poor souls ! they've had a stormy passage thro' the voyage of life ! Ey! how's this? (Looking round) I see no rock, no shore yet 'twas by that passage that the Captain hark ! I hear them! (voices with- out). They are quarrelling amongst themselves! there's hope in that! (Noise repeated). Yes! they are divided one against the other. I must find the Captain any how. Under Providence, there may be a chance yet ! [Exit Bluff. Music, (The Mutineers efiter, in cabal with Windlass.) Wind. I say, yes, nothing else will keep him quiet ; but if you will save their lives, don't blame me if you should chance to lose your own. Swiv. It's the only way to preserve them. If we hurt a hair of their heads, the Captain will not spare a man of us. Block. What signifies the Captain, or Bluff either, now we can muster a dozen hands ! But why han't the crew sent off another boat? Wind. Ey! I never thought o'that our peo- ple must ha' been overpowered, and if these dogs suspect it (j4part). Block. What say you? Wind. How were they to know we had lost our own boat ? let the worst come to pass, we have a snug birth here, well stored and victualled, and with his tools we could build a lugger in a month. On, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 35 Swlv . Belike we could ! but it's a bad look out to lose the freight tho' (Mutineers murmur). Wind. No ! there's a way to save it ; the day breaks in half an hour, we may see a grey horse a mile, as the saying is. Mut. What then ? Wind. While I and Swivel make a signal from the rock, do you follow with Crusoe and his wife. Diego, if he should be on board, will then see them at our mercy, and will not dare set sail to leave us. Mut. That's right! Wind. Away, lads! be lively! Mut. Huzza ! bear a hand ! Wind. Heugh ! you grumbling scoundrels ! \_Music.~\ \Rxeunl Windlass and Swivel, on one side Mutineers in confusion and haste, on the other. SCENE in. Represents that part of the Coast on ivhich Crusoe was wrecked To the left, in the front, is a Pole, on which is affixed this Inscription, " 1 was cast on this Island, September 30th, i65Q, Robinson Crusoe" On this Pole are perceived the notches, by which means he counted the time To the left, in the distance, a steep Rock, with an ascent to it, overlooking the Sea the whole of the right occupied with a Wood of Ce~ dar Trees, which is in the form of an amphi- theatre On the right, Rocks under the Wood, and a chasm distinguishes the opening to the Secret Pass In the centre, the Sea The whole sombre, extensive, and wildly picturesque // /V early dawn, which gradually increases. P2 36 ROBINSON CRUSOE; Music. (Diego discovered increasing the Fire, which flames on the summit of the Rock}. Diego. I watch in vain! in vain I feed the bea- con's fires ; no sound, no signal is returned that speaks approaching aid, or cheers expiring hope. These Indians, on whom we have relied, dread- ing a conflict so unequal, have possibly detained their more courageous chief, and all again is doubt, suspense, and agony ! (Music he de- scends). What can have happened ? The early dawn already shews the dark grey line of the ho- rizon, yet my father comes not, or my friend ; they surely must be safe had the secret passage -been discovered, ere now these wretches had explored it. At intervals, confused and distant sounds have broke upon the stillness of the night, and thro' this vaulted chasm, accents of suppli- cation and complaint have seem'd to float upon the wailing blast Again ! hark ! it is not fancy ! Oh, mother ! mother ! Bluff. (Entering in the distance to the right), So, I'm right at last. (Diego starts and listens). Diego ! Captain ! Diego. Bluff! my friend ! then all is well. I must have been deceived. Bluff. Hush ! not so loud ! Have the Indians appeared have they arrived ? Diego. No ! since midnight I have watched in- cessantly ; but tell me Bluff. We must extinguish that fire. Diego. Why so ? You know its purpose ? Bluff. I do, but it it may be a guide for foes, as well as friends. Diego. Foes! my heart misgives me, I dread to ask OR, THE BOLD BUCAN1ERS. 37 Bluff. You shall know all, but first Diego. Silence ! (Friday has appeared at the mouth of the Cave). Fri. Massa Diego ! Bluff. Tis Friday ! Music. (Diego has run eagerly to Friday, who meets him with great delight, till enquiries are made, when his expression instantly varies, and he describes in action the situation oj Ines and Crusoe). Bluff. (Observing them). I say, Blackee! what do you turn up the white of your eyes, and keep bailing out bad luck there for ? Be alive, my lad, and smother the flame, quick ! Diego. They are lost, inevitably lost ! nothing now can save them. Bluff. Nothing ! you forget, you forget courage, Captain ! do not shame your mother ! she has a heart as feeling as your own, but as fearless as your father's 1 remember how he was saved, how wonderfully found. Never believe the hand that preserved him then, means to desert him now perhaps at this very moment (The low and lengthened note of a Conch is heard. The groupe become fixed at the second sound the Canoes appear). Fri. (With the most extravagant gestures, ex- claims) 'Tis Iglou ! 'tis de Carib ! (he runs up the Rock and extinguishes the Fire). Bluff. I said it, I was sure on't ! Diego. Yes, I see I acknowledge the inno- cent are never friendless. Music. (The dawn has so far advanced, as to make all the objects distinct. The March of the friendly Indians heard. Iglou lands, gives 38 ROBINSON CRUSOE; a signal of command to the rest, and is welcomed by Friday and Diego. Iglou points to his War- riors, and intimates their intention to stand by him and Crusoe to the last). The Indians Enter in March Bluff looking at them with surprize and satisfaction. Bluff. Ecod ! they are a set of clean made fellows. I say, Captain, what a pity 'tis they can't abide the smell of gunpowder if they could but stand fire, we should be a match for a score of such fellows as Windlass. (Diego has received the explanation of Iglou's plan from Friday). Diego. Friday informs me, that Iglou has se- lected from his tribe, those who, by a slight inter- course with Europeans, have become acquainted with our arms, and the manner of using them. Bluff. Ay, ay ! Diego. Our method of attack and defence, they meet by stratagems peculiar to themselves, as snares, ambush, and sudden assault. Bluff, Why, they are at it now. Diego. Observe ! Music. (Friday has been explaining to the Sa- vages the use of his Pistols, persuading them not to be alarmed, &c. Iglou has ordered his ^people to the Wood, and they are seen lopping down branches with their Tomahawks, each, man returning with a bough Iglou, by a signal, causes the Indians to crouch behind their branches, and not one appears in sight. Iglou in front, with his ear to the ground). Diego. Some one approaches ! 'tis a single step we must act as occasion justifies. OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 39 Music ( Bluff retires to the Chasm, from which he observes what passes; Diego, Friday, and Iglou retire to the upper end) . Enter NIPCHEESE, tipsy. Nip. Oh dear, oh dear ! when will all my troubles end? Every thing I do, makes bad, worse. I thought to dispel fear by drinking, in- stead of that, it makes me see danger double. ( The Indians move slowly , and form a line behind Nipcheese, still concealed by the branches). I can't move an inch without meeting some accommodating body, ready and willing to blow out my brains it's really very unpleasant. First, I was beset with savages, then nearly buried alive, and presently I suppose, I shall ey ! Now whether my head runs round, or those trees have run round, rot me if I can tell. I have it this Island is enchanted ! I shouldn't be surprized if I am transformed as Crusoe is, and look for all the world like an old Ae-goat on his hinder legs Lord! what will Mrs. Nipcheese say then! However, I'll liide my jewels in the crannies of that rock, till its time to embark, and then (He approaches the Chasm, Bluff starts forward with a Pistol presented). Another pistol ! don't ! don't fire, you'll oblige me exceedingly. Bluff. Another word, and 'tis your last ! (Nipcheese makes an effort to get away the In- dians shout and drop their branches Nipcheese falls on his knees Diego and Friday starting forward at the same instant, to prevent an attack from Iglou). 40 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; Diego. Tell me instantly the plans of your ac- complices. Nip. I'll tell you every thing, give you every thing, only save me from being roasted, and made a meal of! (holding out the Case of Jewels, which Friday snatches). Diego. Where is my mother ? Where is Ines and Crusoe ? Nip. In the cave they'll be here presently. Diego, And Windlass ? Nip. He'll be here too you may kill him and \velcome ! Diego. What's his intent ? Nip. To make somebody swim to the ship, and tell a parcel of lies to the crew I was afraid he'd pitch upon me, and having no stomach for water, got out of his way, and tumbled into yours. Bluff. The ship! well thought on I'll be be^ fore hand with them. They have warped her close in shore, and I can paddle one of the canoes there in the turning of a capstan. Diego. Right ! Bluff. Give us a shove off, Friday. (He gets into Iglou's Canoe, and Friday pushes it off). Diego. Now aid us to protect my father, assist in preserving my mother, and you will save your- self. Nip. I will, I will, as I'm a sinner, and hope to be saved. Diego. Do not think we shall lose sight of you - 9 pot a word you utter will escape us. If I observe the least attempt at treachery, tho' I perish in the act, that moment is your last ! . Nip. You needn't doubt me ; I always have an OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 41 eye to business, and make it a rule to stick by the strongest. Diego. When they have brought hither, and secured their prisoners, decoy them from the spot, as you may best be able (retires). [Music.] (Iglou forms the Indians into separate concealed clusters, resembling clumps of Bushes Diego takes a station near the side). Fri. See da ! poor Massa Crusoe come ! The Party enter, with CRUSOE and INES bound. Wind. Now then, belay them to those trees, while the gunner hails the vessel from the rock. (He sees Nipcheese). So, you land-lubber, where have you been skulking ? Nip. Skulking ! I've been waiting for you : 'twas no use to hail the ship before it was light, so I amused myself by reading an almanack. Wind. What, read in the dark, you drunken scoundrel ! , Nip. I beg your pardon, I've been sober this five minutes, and the book that I was examining is in large text hand only look ! (Pointing to the inscription). Wind. It's a rum sort o'log book, sure enough 1 Messmates! What's that writing at the top ? Nip. That's what I can't make out. (The Seamen have secured Crusoe and Ines Swivel ascends the Rock, and makes signal to the Ship at the call of Windlass the Mutineers come forward Iglou appears, and attempts to cut the cords that confine the Captives at this moment the Parrot perches on the stump to Q 42 ROBINSON CRUSOE ; which Crusoe is bound, and cries, " Poor Robin, poor Robin Crusoe)." Wind, Ey ! what are you at now ! (Turning on Nipcheese). Nip. Me! I never opened my lips this Island is haunted and Wind. Haunted ! pshaw ! none of your non- sense. (Diego shews himself, and makes Crusoe and Ines understand his intention). Block. This is the way he kept his reckoning, I suppose ! IVind. We know that well enough ; but look aloft, tell us what's on the cross-trees. Block. " I came, to this, i s land Wind. Island, you dunce ! u I carne to this Island," isn't that it? (To Nipcheese). Nip. Yes, that's plain enough. I don't think you'll leave it though in a hurry. (Here the Parrot J^ies off, and in passing Friday, who is on the ivatch near Ines, cries, " Friday, poor Friday)." Wind. Again ! you blackguard Nip. Zounds, don't be so savage you won't believe me but if this place isn't bewitched, I'm a Dutchman. (The Mutineers tale a survey of the place , and examine their Captives). Wind. All right! all's safe ! Go on. (Ad- vancing again to the Inscription). What do all these pot- hooks and hangers stand for ? Nip. Let me try again I can see much clearer than I could just now,-" I came to this Island September 30th, 1659, Robinson Crusoe/* On, THE BOLD BUCANIKRS. 43 Wind. He has been on this station a jriaguy long time then. Nip. Yes, but I think he has quitted his sta- tion by this time. (During this, the Indians have encompassed the Captives and slowly moved off with them still concealed by the boughs). Swiv. (From the Rock). They return the sig- nal, I see the launch and jolly-boat putting off. Wind. That's well be ready. Ey I 'sdeath and fire! where are the prisoners ? All. The prisoners ! Nip. The prisoners ! bless my soul, they are gone, sure enough ! And the trees are gone too ! Wind. Pursue instantly ! Swiv. Keep your ground ! I see them, they are protected by a swarm of Indians ! Wind. Indians! pshaw! a single shot will dis- perse a thousand follow me! Nip. Follow! Hurra, my boys hurra ! Musrc. (Windlass, and the whole of the Muti- neers rush out}. I'll remain here as a corps de reserve. (Shout- ing without). There's work ! there's chopping and lopping ! If they fire at random, they'll be sure to hit me ! By the lord, they're coming back again! (He runs off'). Music. (The Indians are seen flying before the Mutineers, and pass off. Robinson Crusoe and Ines enter \ followed by Windlass Me?/ combat Crusoe, exhausted, is disarmed Ina arrests the bloiv of Windlass, and a struggle ensues Friday enters, and encounters the Boat- swain at the instant Pariboo starts forward to revenge himself on Crusoe Pariboo is met by o 2 41 ROBINSON CRUSOE; Iglou they engage each other with Daggers, while Friday drives off Windlass, &c. During this, Crusoe and Ines have been secured by Mu~ tineers* and borne off. Pariboo overcomes Iglou Friday runs on at the moment, and throws himself before his Father. Iglou recovers the Dagger which has been wrested from him^ and the combat is renewed with ferocity. Pariboo- is disarmed, but instantly snatches a Tomahawk ' from Iglou, and is at the point of dispatching him,) when Friday returns with the Dog, who rushes upon the hostile Chief, and carries off the Weapon. Pariboo^'es, is pursued, and driven from the Rock into the Sea by Iglou. Diego, Ines, and Crusoe, brought in secured - Windlass and the Mutineers fronting them). Diego. Perfidious villain ! Wind. You sought our lives! prepare now to lose your own. Comrades, present fire ! Mut. No, no, no. Swiv. Leave them to their fate, but spare their lives. Wind. What ! refuse ! then my own hand shall (Levelling a Pistol). Music.-*-(TAe Indians rush on, headed by Iglou, and make a defence with their Shields before the Captives Friday at the same moment dash- ing the Pistol from the hand of Windlass). Wind. Now will you assist Mut. Ay, ay. (The Indians shout). (The Mutineers attack, and at the same instant the Crew of the Vessel, headed by Bluff, rush for- ward, cheering). Bluff. Now, you damned dogs, we have ^ou. (He strikes down the Boatswain, and the Muti- OR, THE BOLD BUCANIERS. 4fr rie'ers drop their arms). Joy, Captain, joy ! I told you how 'twould bethe crew are true to a man, and the ship's your own again. Diego. Secure those miscreants till their fate shall be determined. Music, (They form a I'rocession. and depart Igl$H, Friday, arid the Indians marching in the front and rear). SCENE IV. A Picturesque Flew of the sea shore from beneath a shed built by Crusoe, The Music still con- tinues Iglou and his Troop march in, and halt at the bach of the Scene. Enter DIEGO and INES, in great joy, followed by ROBINSON CRUSOE between IGLOU and FRIDAY. Cru. Courageous Chief! and you, my ever faithful Friday! well have you repaid my ser- vice ; amply have you proved your gratitude ! In saving you, I have preserved the lives of those, far dearer than my own. (Embracing Ines). Now then, collect those memorials I selected, and pre- pare for my departure; your last act of duty is at length arrived. Music. /'Friday starts, trembles, and shews signs of grief). I understand but, remember, I have found a \vife and son, you a father ! Music. (Friday intimates his affection to his Fa~ ther, but his wish to follow Crusoe). His heart is with his parent, his service with his master ! 46 ROBINSON CRUSOE; (Friday turns from one to the other, and at length drops at the feet of Crusoe). Be happy then, we will never part! Iglou, you k)se him but for a time, 1 shall again re- visit and reward my benefactors ! Enter BLUFF, and the Mutineers, guarded by the Crew. Bluff. Come, my lads, don't look so blank. After all, it is but hanging, you know, and that can't happen twice in your lives ! They're as mute as stock-fish! pretty fellows for Mutineers, an't you ? I say, Captain, speak a word to 'em. Cru. Let me pronounce (ToViegoJ. Wretched and misguided men, live ! and if you can, live peaceably, learn to appreciate that first of bless- ings Liberty! by enduring in this Island, the fate to which you hacl devoted others I leave it you, far different than I found it you will possess every means of shelter, comfort, and pro- tection ! Endeavour to deserve them, and you may yet be happy ! Enter NIPCHEESE, as the Mutineers go off. Bluff. Ah, Master Nipcheese, are you above board yet ? Nip. Yes I am, to my very great astonish- ment. O, Captain ! I hope you'll not leave me in this horrible island. Those rascals forced me into the plot, and if you'll take me once more into favour, you shall find me as honest a steward as ever had charge of a bread-room. Bluff. He's chip in porridge, Captain, neither good nor harm : I'll answer for him, he'll never get into this scrape wiHingly. OR, THE BOLD BUCANIEKS. 47 Diego. Well, I forgive him. Nip. Do you ? Bless you ! I shall be a man of business again. O, Mr. Friday, there are all your brothers and sisters arrived, come, I sup- pose, in search of your honour'd papa. Never saw so large a family in rny life ! Cru. Away, Friday, and receive them. Collect the memorials I \vish to preserve, and, then, all hands aboard. [Music.] (The various articles belonging to Crusoe, affixed to branches, are borne by the fndia?is, still under the direction of Iglou. His Quadrant, Com- pass, Telescope, Journal, s?c. Friday car- ries the Umbrella, with the Parrot perched on it a kind of Car formed by the Indians, with a canopy of leaves, is mounted by Crusoe with his Dog; Diego and Ines at each side, and the whole pass off' in Procession}* The following Round sung during the Procession : Give the word, Let's aboard ! Every heart he jolly ! Danger o'er, Sigh no more, Banish melancholy ! Man the boat, Once afloat, Let the can go round, boys ; Toddy su ig, Dance a jig, We are homeward bound, boys ! Give the word, &c. &c. ROBINSON CRUSOE. SCENE THE LAST.- [Music], The Ship lying at anchor near the Shore, .sur- rounded with Canoes On the left the exterior of the Shed, overhung by Rocks. Crusoe, Diego, Ines, and Friday, discovered seated near th? side the Stage Jilled by the Friendly Indians Iglou prostrates himself to Crusoe, and presents a branch of the Palm, intimating his desire that Crusoe should witness a Festival in honour of their friendly compact. A Ballet is then performed by three Quadroon Girls decorated with Feathers, &c. Iglou and the rest occasionally bearing part Antikoo next appears, and performs various feats of activity peculiar to the Caribs ; at the con- clusion, a Gun is fired from the F'essel the Party rise, take leave of Iglou, and depart. The Groupe prostrate themselves towards the Vessel at the report of the Gun the Boat is seen rowing to the Ship the Sails are set, and the distant voices of the Crew singing the Round, are heard as on board the Vessel, and sinking on the ear, as the receding Fessd diminishes to the sight. Tableau. ' THE END. '.ondon : Printed by B. M'Millan, ) JW Street, Covent Garden. \ atberttne; AN OPERA, IN TWO ACTS. FOUNDED ON THE STORY OF DON JUAN; BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. THE MUSICK FROM MOZART'S CELEBRATED OPERA OF DON GIOVANNI, ADAPTED TO THE ENGLISH STAGE BY MR. BISHOP. FIRST PERFORMED AT THE C&eatre * iRopai, Cotient * Oh ! haste, and be happy, like me ! Chorus. J Oh ! haste, and be happy, like tbeul Lira la, lira la! C 10 THE LIBERTINE. Mas. And, ye lads, who are constantly changing, For a time, tho' 'tis pleasant to run From this beauty, to that, ever ranging, Yet, at last, pray, be constant to one! Lira lira la ! And be happy j be happy, like me, Ms. <$ ? Lira la, lira la! Chortis. 3 And be happy, be happy like thee, Oh! be happy, be happy, like me! JZer. #> Oh, what rapture! the marriage bells ringing, Mas. 3 To be dancing, and playing, and singing, Who so happy, so happy as we ? Chorus. Lira la, lira la, Who so happy, so happy as we ? ( At the close of the Music, Don Juan joins the throng, and singles Zerlina from the Groupe Leporello entering at the same time, observing him ) . Lep. Oh, this love! this love! Why, he's at it again. Don J. (Advancing with ZerlinaJ. Lively, merry souls! Leporello, didst ever see a crea- ture half so fascinating? Lep. Ob, charming ! Another mistress! (Aside). Don J. Such a form ! such a complexion ! Lep. He's on the high road to the devil, and not content with travelling alone, claps me up behind him, and rides pos{! Don J. A wedding ! Zer. Yes, kind Sir, and I am the bride. ( Don Juan kisses her hand). Ltp. Oh yes, he's very kind ! Zooks ! amongst go many, one may fall to my share, in an honest way* (Retires to the groupe). THE LIBERTINE. 11 Don J. Joy! joy! I give you joy! But \vhere's the bridegroom? Mas. Here, my Lord, at your service. ( Bow- ing between them}. DonJ. Your name? Mas. Masetto, Sir. Don J. And yours, sweet maid? Zer. Zerlina, an it please you, Sir. Don J. It does, it does please me! Ah! Ma- setto, thou art a favoured mortal! I'll be the founder of your wedding feast, and every plea- sure that Leporello! rascal! Lep. Ey! that's me! (Starting from half a dozen girls, whom he has enticed round him). DonJ. What do you there? Lep. A good example is never lost on an attentive servant. Don J. Conduct these worthy people to my palace; order an entertainment ; bid masks and music; and till all's prepared, pay particular attention to my friend Masetto d'ye hear? Lep. Yes, and understand too Come along, (to Masetto). Mas. Nay, your pardon there ; I share no Sports or feast either, without Zerlina. Don J. Be content Zerlina shall come on with me she will be safe in my care. Mas. I doubt it not, Senor ; but her mother told me, she'd be safer now in mine. Lep. That chap is no fool, tho' he looks like one. Zer. Fye, Masetto ! you'll offend our bene- factor. He seems a noble, and I'm sure, a handsome gentleman. Mas. Yes, by'r lady, and may be more handsome than honest. ( Don Juan takes the opportunity of 12 THE LIBERTINE. ing instructions to Leporello, who ex* postulates, till threaten d by his master ) . Zcr. I see now you are jealous. Ah, Ma- setto ! I thought you had more confidence. Mas. But that gentleman has a little too much; didn't I see him kiss your hand you ne'er withdrew it ; he clasped you round the waist too still you bore it patiently. Don J. What, quarrelling before marriage! nay do not anticipate your joys. Mas. Well, stay, stay, if you please I shall not lack company. Lep. Stay ! why, the fellow's an ass ! I thought Mas. What? Don J. Leporello ! ( With an angry glance.) Lep. I was only going to say, I thought he had more sense, than to suppose a great Don, like your worship, would demean himself with a clodhopper's wife. Come, come, let us join the lasses I'll shew you the way our palace is close by. Mas. (Aside) Imprudent girl I but I'll have an eye upon them 1 might trust her, but not Don Juan I know him. Lep. Come, come along (He follows Leporello, who beckons him; but as the Peasants depart, slips back> and watches at the side). Don J. Now, sweet, we are alone, and-^- Zer. Sure you mean no harm ! Masetto is my lover. Don J. I am thy lover. Think you, I could suffer such bewitching beauty to be squandered on a clown? THE LIBERTINE. 13 Zer. But be is my husband now. DonJ. Absurd ! those lovely eyes, and ruby lips, were never formed to bless a low-born peasant, I I will be tby husband. Zer. You, my Lord ! you mock me. Don J. Nay then, hear me swear ! ( On his knee). Zer. Oh no ! I am but a poor country girl, and have not the wit to answer all your fine sayings ; but, tho' humble in my station, I have learnt to prize the heart of an honest youth, beyond all the splendour of exalted infamy. ( Masetto expr esses Joy Leporello, on the opposite side, enters, and looks round). Lep. Not here, either ! Zer. Pray, let me go, alas ! 'tis true, that I have heard,; young and gallant cavaliers are dangerous society for simple maids. DonJ. A vile calumny of the vulgar. No- bility and honour always dwell together. ( Leporello approaches unseen). Lep. There is no rule without an exception. Don J. S'death ! rascal,, what brought you here ? Lep. I have lost one of my flock I came back to find him. All the rest are in fold safe enough but Masetto 's missing. Zer. Masetto ! ( Alarmed, hut, looking roun4 f perceives him). Don J. He can be spared, ( Apart to Lepo- rello). Lep. Ah ! but there is somebody to supply his place, that you may think still more dis- agreeable. Don J. Who's that? 14 THE LIBERTINE* Lep. Your wife, (In a tone not to be heard 1>y Zerlina). Don J. Elvira ! at such a moment ! Lep. That's a sickener ! ( Apart ) . Don J. When where have you seen her ? Lep. In the palace ; and having sought for you in vain there, she's coming here. Don J. Here ! torments and furies ! I shall be torn to pieces. Follow me to the pavilion. [Exit. Lep. The pavilion ! he'll run into her very arms. Nothing but his wife, or a thunderbolt, could have made him quit his prey ; but the poor girl is safe now, if she will but keep so. (Sees Masetto, 'who has come from his concealment, and joined Zerlina). Oh! you are there, are you ? A word with you. Don J. ( Without}. Leporello ! Lep. Coming! Anon I'll speak. Now am I called away to be beaten! Whenever he is out of sorts, this master of mine prefers cudgelling me to all other cure, DonJ. (Without) Leporello! Lep. I come! Oh! would I were a dog. {Exit, Mas. Yes, I witnessed all that passed, and love thee now far better than before. Zerl. Ah, Masetto! I would not have deserted you for the proudest Lord in Spain. I'd die sooner than wrong you. Mas. Dear Zerlina ! THE LIBERTINE. 15 DUET Zerlina and Masetlo. Mas. Now place your hand in mine, dear, And gently whisper, Yes; Each vain desire resign, dear, And poor Masetto bless ! ZerL I would but yet I would not ; This wav'ring, fickle heart, " It beats for what it should not, Yet from thee cannot part. Mas. And could you think to leave me? ZerL You wish but to deceive me. Mas. I'll ever happy make thee. Zerl. Haste then, while willing, take me. Mas. Come then come then, Come place your hand in mine, dear, &c. Both. Fond truth our hearts uniting, And love, to bliss inviting, A thousand joys impart. SCENE IV. Tlit Grounds close 'without Don Juan's Palace. Enter DON JUAN and LEPORELLO. DonJ. Ha! ha! What maggot's in thy brain, now, Leporello ? Lep. If I might, without offence Don J. Speak, and fear not. My humour's mended since I 'scaped my wife. Lep. Speak then I will ; think of your last night's exploit first, to break into Leonora'* apartment, and, then, murder her father ! Don J. Self-preservation required it ; the old man was bent upon his ruin. Lep. And was the young Lady bent upon hers? W THE LIBERTINE. Don J. No, but I was as to Pedro, we were hand to hand, and I killed him fairly. Lep. Oh! certainly, he'd be in the wrong to complain ; but,, if jour Worship has no scruples, I have: hanging is a position I can't endure, I've an unconquerable antipathy to hemp, and never look at a bell-rope without Uembling. Don J. Ha! ha! poor Leporello! Lep. In short, your service is a matter of life and death ; and, as I am by no means a man to set danger at defiance, I humbly crave to be discharged. Don J. Why, no one witnessed the affair but thee ; and should it come to light, I have power with the State for pardon. Lep. Then we shake hands, and part. Don J. No, 'faith ; thou'rt too useful to be spared. Lep. Do, spare me, do I'll not stand for wages. DonJ. Another word, I'll slit your windpipe. Lep. That's sufficient I'm dumb ! DonJ. Ey! (Looking off}. What's there? -a woman? Lep. Another ! Nothing female comes amiss to him. Don J. See, see, how like a sylph she glides, and this way bends. Enter ELVIRA. Elvira! Dog! you have betrayed me! (Aside to Leporello). Lep. Here'll be a tempest! JElv. So, Sir, have I found you ? Thou hy- pocrite! thou monster of deceit! by oaths and flattery to win me to thy arms, and ere our union was acknowledged to the world, leaye me THE LIBERTINE. 17 a prey to anguish and remorse. Cruel man! what have I done, that you should fly me thus? Don J. Dearest Elvira, you mistake your anger is unjust. Elv. Oil, Juan! are all thy oaths and vows forgotten ? Why feign affection to hetray me? Don J. On my soul, my love was real. Elv. Was real ! and is it not so now ? Ah, thou'rt abash 'd. Come,, impostor, arm thy front with a noble impudence; swear again that you still love me with unparallelled affec- tion ; that, when away from me, you suffer all the pangs that men endure, when soul and body separate! Thus should thy guilt defend itself, and not stand thunderstruck. Don J. Silence these reproaches, and I will speak the truth. Lcp. For the first time. (Aside}. Don J. Nay, smooth that angry brow, and hear how long I've loved you. Lep. Just three weeks ! Don J. How fervently I still do love ! Elv. Thine oaths are false, and barren as thine honour. Abandon'd, base deceiver ! now do I know thee thoroughly, and, to my shame and torture, know thee, when certainty can only make me desperate. Why hast thou not de- clared our marriage ? Don J. You'll pardon me. When thou art tame, I'll answer: at present, I've a little bu- siness. Leporello, reply for me. Lep. I I reply! Don J. Of all the torments borne by old or young, None can exceed that plague a wo- man's tongue. [Exit, He has the heart of a tyger. D 18 THE LIBERTINE. Elv. Am I, indeed, the victim of perfidy? Oh! how assiduous was his passion! how many thousand sighs he breathed, how many tears he wept, seeming to suffer all the pangs that lovers e'er have felt! Gone! Lep. Even let him go ; he's not worth the keeping. I have a greater respect for you, than any he has yet deceived, Elv. Deceived! has he no conscience, faith, or honour left ? Lep. Left! bless you, he never had any. Elv. None! Lep. Not a morsel of either ; there's no man has the misfortune to know him better than I ; and, without scandal, its a mercy I am not cor- rupted ! Why, he's the most perfidious, atro- cious wretch alive ! ( Leporello perceives Don Juan, who has entered at the side, as if to avoid some person, and at this instant jixes his eye upon Leporello). That is, in people's report ; but you, you know what report is, a common liar he'll cut my throat. (Aside). He's eccentric, its true, very eccentric ; but a good master, and a wor- thy man Heaven forgive me for lying. (Aside). Elv. May I believe you? Lep. You may ; I never deceived a woman in my life. The fact is, he's a little a little too gallant, but where shall we find perfection? where (looking round) no where ! ( Don Juan has passed out on the opposite side, stealing behind Leporello and El- vira). He has used you better than all the rest. I never knew him constant a whole fortnight be- fore. THE LIBERTINE. 19 Eli). How! is ray grief a subject for thy mockery, fellow! Am I made their sport! but 'tis past, let love for ever sleep within my breast, and nothing wake, but hatred and re- venge! Lep. On my life, I pity, and would relieve you ; but, what can't be cured, must be en- dured. Look here! (Taking out his Book) you are not the first, or last. Elv. O villain! villain! SONG Leporello. Pray, behold, Ma'am ! In this long list I've made, is An account of my master's fair Ladies : Not Jove, so renown'd at Love's trade is ; Pray, observe it, and read it with me ! First, in Italy, Ma'am, seven hundred ; Then, in Germany, eight you may see ; Then, in Turkey and France, one-and-ninety ; But, in Spain, Ma'am, one thousand and three! Here are chambermaids by dozens. City dames, and country cousins, Countesses, and baronesses, Marchionesses, and princesses, All descriptions, ages, classes Not a woman could go free ! First, the Fair Ones he bewitches By the softness of his speeches ; Makes the Brown Ones burn like fever, Warmly vowing love for ever ! With the Pale Ones he will languish, Melt and sigh in tender anguish ; The Grand and Tall Ones sometimes warm him, But the Little Ones always charm him ! High and low, Ma'am, old and young, Ma'am, Own the music of his tongue, Ma'am ; Ugly, pretty, short, and tall, He, 'pon honour, lov'd them all ! [Exit, U .20 THE LIBERTINE. Elv. Wha]t witchcraft do I suffer ? that, while I abhor his vices, I still love his person. Enter LEONORA and OCTAVIO inDominos, fyc. attended by LOPEZ and MARIA. Oct. Are all ready? Lop. All. Oct. Masked,, and armed., as I directed? Lop. They are, my Lord, and fully warned of your intention. Leon. Elvira, you have seen him, spoken with him? Elv. I have. Leon. And he, JElv. Is, I fear, the basest wretch that ever marr'd the peace of innocence. Leon. But, how did.he receive you? Elv. O, ask me not ! if my surmise be veri- fied, no misery can sink me lower. [" Exit. Leon. And, can this man be happy? Oh, Oc- tavio ! my father's spirit cries aloud for retri- bution ; but thou, perhaps, may fall, and Leo- nora lose her last, her only friend. Oct. Banish these painful recollections : by our mutual love, this arm, and this true sword shall yield a sacrifice, to give thy bosom peace. ( Band heard within the Gardens of the Palace). Enter LEPORELLO. QUARTETTO Leporello, Octavio, Leonora, Maria. ]Lep* Strangers, pray, hither bnd ye, Where song and dance attend ye ? Master, by me doth send ye, A welcome to bis fete! THE LIBERTINE. 21 Oct. Leon. ") Heaven, our woe relieving, ft Mar. J Shall punish his deceiving. Lep. Pray Sir, your answer send him ! Pray, Ma'am e attend him ! Oct. Thanks for your friendly greeting, We'll come, nor fear the meeting, Lep. The tamborine is beating, You may, but I can't wait ! Oct. Leon. ) Kind heaven, out woe relieving, Sf Mar. 3 Shall punish his deceiving, And ev'ry wrong retrieving, The wretch shall meet his fate ! [Exeunt, SCENE V. Luxuriant Gardens, and distant View Booths on one side, for Refreshments on the other, at the upper end a Summer -House. tc Enter MASETTO, followed by ZERLINA, at- tempting to soothe him. "Zer. Masetto! dear Masetto! " Mas. Don't touch me, Zerlina HI not be fooled twice your falsehood's plain. " Zer. What, distrust me still ! If hewill but hear me, I'll soon coax him. Now, Masetto! e< Mas. Nonsense! folly! if you would but mend your life. " Don. J. Mend it! don't I enjoy it to the full ? do I not gather every blossom that the spring of youth puts forth ? ee Lep. Yes ; but the fruit will be remorse > you'll not admire the flavour of it. Now if I had a master I say, if I had a master without a conscience, I should tell him flatly to his face Does it become you, 'a mere atom, a rep- tile, a little earth-worm mind, I speak to the aforesaid master does it become you, to make F 34 THE LIBERTINE. / a jest of what your betters revere ? think you, because you are a man of quality, with straight limbs, and a fair presence, a feather stuck in your cap, and a sword dangling at your tail Don J. How ! Lep. I say, do you suppose, that you are at liberty to go it as you do, without an honest man daring to give you your own ? Then, learn from me, who am only your lacquey, Ah! I speak to the aforesaid Don J. Hold, Sir! that aforesaid of yours, seems to be a person I have something of a re- gard for, something of a friendship, and 'twould be the heighth of baseness in me, not to cut a rascal's throat that spoke ill of him. . Lep. Ah! that's what I said your story may be very true, says I says I to him; but all men are not alike. Now, I have a master, says I, that scorns such freaks ; he does not kiss other men's wives, and run away with their daughters;- he, he never killed a man in a brawl, or beat his servant, like a stock, or a stone says I. DonJ. Ha! ha! I understand thee, knave Stat. Thy mirth shall end, 'ere glow-worms fade in morning. (Leporello terrified, and Juan listening with surprize). DonJ. Leporello! what voice? Lep. A spirit! a spirit! Oh! I freeze with horror! DonJ. This is strange! Pshaw! someone's concealed, and laughs at our surprize what have we here ? the tomb of Don Pedro! Lep. Don Pedro! Don J. They must have been expeditious! THE LIBERTINE. 35 Lep. Expeditious! mortal man never could have raised it in so short a time. DonJ. 'Tis finely sculptured! and very like him too! Lep. Terribly, terribly like him! DonJ. Leporello, approach read me the inscription. Lep. Excuse me, my eyes are not good enough to read by moonlight. Don J. Read, I say. Lep. (Advancing, retreats on looking up}. My heart fails me ! I could almost fancy him alive, and going to speak. DonJ. Incorrigible coward! but, come, I'll send thee with a message. Lep. Will you ? I'll go with all the pleasure in life Here's a blessed release ! but where what street your compliments, and Don J. To Don Pedro there ! (Leporello starts). Ask him to supper ! Lep. Ask! Ey! Oh, good Sir, you jest, he has no appetite. Don J. Do as I bid thee. Lep. Certainly, to be sure ; but, under fa- vour, with all submission, wouldn't it be rather more respectful more polite, as you are so near his residence, just to call upon him your- self? (Don Juan threatens Leporello, who bows to him, and then advances towards the Statue with trepidation). Good Mr. Statue, I I I'm not well. ( Turning to Don Juan). Don J. ( Half drawing his Sword). I'll cure you. Lep. I go, I go if it shall please your Wor- 36 THE LIBERTINE. ship, my master would desire your company to supper. Ah! Oh! O! O! " (Don Juan listens to the delivery of his Mes- sage^ as if enjoying Leporello'* terror At the word " Supper," the Statue bows its head, and Leporello runs forward, over- whelmed with dismay) . DonJ. S'death! what does the fellow roar at? Lep. The the the Statue! (Nods his head in imitation ) . DonJ. What! (Leporello attempts in vain to speak, but points over his, shoulder, and again imitates the motion of the Statue). Don J. Assents,, but does not speak then I'll speak to him. (Leporello clasps his hands in alarm, as Juan 1 walks boldly towards the Figure}. Don J. If thou canst be animate, and bend thy marble joints, descend, and visit me. Thou shall have a noble welcome! [Music.] (The Statue bows Juan starts Leporello, who has not dared to turn his eyes, entreats his Master to depart Juan rejects his ad- vice, and taking off his glove 9 throws it daringly at the Figure, as he leaves the Ce- metery Leporello, spite of his terrors, takes a parting glance at the Statue, which again bows Leporello roars 9 and rushes off). THE LIBERTINE. 37 SCENE III. Piazza illuminated Moonlight gleaming thro* the Arches A magnificent Square seen be- yond them. Enter OCTAVIO, with LOPEZ, and two Atten- dants. Oct. This to the Corregidor to the Gover- nor these. (Giving Papers). He vigilant, and bring me their reply. [Exeunt Lopez, &c. stay, and partake my plea- sures ; if not, leave me. Elv. Oh 1 do not speak thus ! one moment longer, you are past hope ; if my supplications and my prayers can move you to repentance, fly, fly, from the dangers that encompass you ! Oh, let me save you from yourself! save you from the wrath of heaven ! E'en now, the fatal bolt is launched at thy devoted head already I behold the dark abyss opening to swallow thee in fires, that burn, but never can consume! DonJ. Oh, absurd ! I cannot, will not do it. Elv. Lost! lost for ever! [Exit. ( Don Juan retires to the Table). DonJ. Some wine there 1 . Leporello! wine, and the dance. [The Music strikes J\ (Don Juan and the Party sit at the Table the Ladies seated round him, four Ser- vants attending During the Repast, a Dance by Females only Leporello comes forward with a Plate, and stations himself near the front, enjoying the gaiety of the Scene and his Supper, till three tremendous knocks are heard without His Plate, &c. instantly drops from his hand, and he stands paralyzed The Dance has suddenly broke off, and each Performer appears ri- vetted to her place and position with asto- nishment). Don J. ( Carelessly ) . Leporello ! the door ! see who knocks. [Music.'] (Leporello takes the light, and goes to the 44 THE LIBERTINE. side at which Elvira went off. Don Juan attempts to quiet the alarm of his Compa- nions). Lep. (Returning). Ah! Oh! Oh! He's come! he's come! he's come! Don J. On horseback or on foot, that he makes this infernal clamour ? [Knock repeated.^] Lep. There again! DonJ. Don't be impatient I'll soon be with you. [Music.'] (Juan comes from the Table, draws his Sword, and takes the light from the trembling hand o/* Leporello). Lep. Don't, don't, tell him you are not at home ! [_Music.~] (Don Juan pushes Leporello scornfully aside , and goes. to the entrance, almost instantly returning, followed by the Statue, which is surrounded by a ghastly blue glare The Women and Leporello utter shrieks, and escape in all direc- tions the lights in the apartment are suddenly extinguished Don Juan re- treats, step by step, as the Figure ad- vances, keeping his eye fearlessly upon it, until it halts ) . Don J. You take the privilege of old ac- quaintance you are full half an hour beyond your time. (Points to the Table) Pray be seated. \_Music. ~\ ( The Statue assents, and seats itself at THE LIBERTINE. 45 the Table. Juan fronts it, and offers Food, which is rejected he then offers Wine, which is likewise refused). Neither eat nor drink ! why then, here's to you ! may you live a thousand years ! (Drinks, and throws the Cup over his head). [Music. "^ The Statue rises Juan likewise-^ the Figure points fonvard, as desiring him to follow 9 and retreats towards the entrance pauses, turns , and holds forth its hand Don Juan throws away his Sword, and daringly ad- vances at the instant his hand meets the grasp of the Statue, he shrinks back and groans}. " Don J. Oh, horror! I freeze! I freeze! the life-blood curdles in my veins! my heart has turned to ice and weighs me to the earth." (The Statue forces him lack with the point of his Baton, and vanishes Juan reels, and falls Fiends arise from various parts, and on an immense rock of burn" ing matter, with Serpents twining amidst a vivid red flame 3 which ascends in the centre). CHORUS OF DEMONS SOLO Chief Spirit. Spirits of Hell, surround him! Furies, with shrieks astound him! Guilt and despair confound him! Prepare his fiery doom! 46 THE LIBERTINE. Chorus. Demons, triumphant yelling, Welcome the wicked home ! Plunge him in Horror's dwelling, Where Hope can never come ! ( The instant the whole are assembled, they drag Juan from the ground by the hair he rushes from side to side, pursued with scourges of fire, and is at length bound to the rock). " Don J. Oh! madness and horror a thou- sand serpents tear my flesh gulfs of eternal fire! Pedro ! Elvira! too late! too late ! I burn 1 I sink ! Tortures ! Hell! Despair ! Oh !" ( The whole fabric of the Palace totters, the Pillars which support the Saloon divide, and fall with a hideous crash; and as Juan descends in a blaze of red flame, the Spirit of Don Pedro is seen to ascend beyond the ruins, in a pale ethe- real mist ) . THE PND, London: Printed by B. M'Millan, J liow-Street, Coveat-Garden. 5 AULD LANG SYNE! A MUSICAL DRAMA, IN THREE ACTS. FOUNDED ON THE POPULAR NOVEL OF ROB ROY. FIRST PERFORMED AT THE THURSDAY, MARCH 12, 1818. BY I. POCOCK, ESQ. LONDON: PRINTED FOR JOHN MILLER, 25, BOW-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN; SOLD ALSO BY W. SAMS, 6*2, PALL-MALt. Printed by B. M'Millaa, Bow-Street, Covent-Oardeu 1818. [Price Three Shillings.] DRAMATIS PERSONS. 5tr Frederick Vernon Mr. Egertou. Rashleigh Osbaldistone Mr. Abbott. Francis Osbaldistone Mr. Sinclair. Owen Mr. Blanchard. Captain Thornton Mr. Connor. Rob Roy M'Gregor Campbell . . Mr. Macready. Dougal , Mr. Tokely. Hannah and Robert t (Rob Roy's | Mr. Sutton, Sons) J Master Parsloe. Major Galbraith Mr. Taylor. M'Stuart Mr. Comer. Allan Mr. Norris. JSailie Nicol Jarvie Mr. Listen. M'Vittie Mr. Atkins. Jobson , Mr. Simmons. Sounders Wylie Mr. Penn. Andrew Mr. Treby. Lancie Wingfield " Mr. Heath. Host Mr. Tinney. Willie .'.... Mr. Goodwin. Sergeant Mr. Grant. Corporal Mr. Ilyalls. Highlanders, Soldiers, Travellers, fyc. Messrs. Brown, Barclay, Crumpton, Everard, George, Lee, Norrig, Pyne, I. Terry, 1. S. & C. Tett, Tinney, Watson, Williams, Col- lett, Goodwin, Grant, Heath, Louis, Platt, Button, White. Diana Vernon Miss Stephens. Martha Miss Green.' Mattie Mrs. Sterling. Jean M* Alpine Miss Logan. Hostess Mrs. Coates. Katty Mrs. Bishop. Helen McGregor Mrs. Egerton. Highland Peasantry, fyc. Mesds. Bologna, Chipp, Coates, Corri, Green, Grimaldi, Healy, Herbert, Ilibbert, lliff, Norman, Penn, Port, Sexton, Shaw, $mitb, Tokely, Watts, Whitmore, Louis, Mori, Newton, Plourdeau, Robinson, Twamley, Weils. MR. HAZLITT'S NEW WORK. In the Press, and speedily will be published, By JOHN MILLER, 25, Bow-street, Covent-garden, and R. STODART, 81, Strand, A SERIES OF DRAMATIC CRITICISMS, BY MR. WILLIAM HAZLITT, AUTHOR OF " CHARACTERS OF SHAKESPEAR*S PLAYS," With which Work it will be uniformly printed. ACT I. SCENE I. The Interior of a small Public-house in Scotland - Door and a large Window in front, through which is seen Osbaldistone-Hall, and Country. Travellers of various descriptions preparing to set forward on their journey ; Host and Hostess assisting them. GLEE HOST and TRAVELLERS. Soon (lie sun will #ae to rest, Let's aw a* together ; Company is aye the best Crossing o'er the heather. Tak each lad his stirrup cup, His heart will be the lighter ; Tak each lass a wee sup, Her e'e will sparkle brighter. Bold Rob Roy, the Southerns say, Is now upon the Border; Should he meet wi' us the day, 'T wad breed a sair disorder. But tak each man his stirrup cup, His heart will feel the bolder ; Then set your lip, The whisky sip, And shoulder keep to shoulder. Soon the sun, &c. JB 2 ROB R0\ r MACGREGOR; Host. Brawly sung, my masters, brawly sung ! I wish you all safe home, for your own sakes, and a quick return, for mine. Here, wife! give our friends their stirrup-cup, while I rub down the table. I wish you good e'en, friends. (The Travellers disperse). Odd ! there are two more travellers just alight- ing. Wha'd a' thought of more company at the Thistle and Bagpipes so late in the day? But what with Whigs, and Tories, and Jaco- bites, and Rob Roy we in the North here drive a bonny trade. Enter CAMPBELL, plainly dressed, something like a North-country Grazier ; and OWEN in a plain brozvn Suit, Boots, a Whip, &c. shewn in by WILLIE. f Wlllie. Travellers to Glasgow, Maister. Camp. Landlord, let us have your best, and quickly. Host. Troth will I, Sir Ye'll be for a dram, na doubt, till we can tass ye up something hot for your late dinner. [Exit. (Owen has placed a small Saddle-bag on the Table, and sunk into a Chair, apparently greatly fatigued) . Owen. Oh ! my poor bones ! the firm of my constitution has. been worse shaken than the House of Osbaldistone and Co. Crane-Alley, London. (Willie places Liquor and Cups on the Table).-** Young man, have you sent my mes- sage to the Hall hard by ? (Campbell pours out, and Owen drinks). Willie. Yes, Sir ; the lassie will soon be back wi* the answer. On, AULD LANG SYNE! 3 Camp. Weel, fellow-traveller, how does our Scotch whisky agree with your English stomach? Owen. Thank you, Sir, it cheers the body, but cannot raise the spirit I'm quite below par, as we say in the City. Camp. Try it again, man. (Filling his Cup). Owen. I hope Mr. Frank Osbaldistone will make haste Yet I have a sad tale to tell to him. (Rises). Camp. Osbaldistone ! I know something of that family, Sir ; and if there's any thing 1 can serve you in, you may command me. Owen. You are very kind, Sir; but it's far be- yond your help. Camp. Perhaps not ; will you trust me with the matter ? Owen. Surely I will, Sir : the affairs of the great Commercial and Banking-house of Osbal- distone and Co. Crane-Alley, London, are ne secret by this time all public as the Gazette that I should live to see it and say it! Oh dear! Camp. Come, come, nought's so bad but what it may be mended. Let's hear the busi- ness that brings you to the Hall. Owen. It's a long account, Sir ; but I'll sum it up by the shortest rules. You must^uiow my name is Owen : I am Head Clerk of the House of Osbaldistone and Co. Crane-Alley, London, and now on my way to Glasgow, to recover cer- tain papers which have been taken stolen I'm afraid in the absence of the head of the Firm. Camp. Stolen ! by whom ? Given. By his nephew, Mr. Rashleigh. Camp. Rashleigh ! I know I remember the son of Sir Hildebrand, late of the Hall here. Owen. The same, Sir. Sir Hildebrand and the rest of his sons were taken up on suspicion B 2 4 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; of treasonable practices its an awful balance they have to strike ! Camp. But how happened it the son this Mr. Frank you talk of, was not left in charge of his father's affairs, rather than the nephew, Ra sleigh ? Owen. Ah, Sir ! there lies all the mischief Mr. Frank loathed the counting-house worse than I loathe a bankruptcy. While his father was making money he was making poetry ; and so, his father, Sir, being a stern man, said that his nephew Rashleigh should take Mr. Frank's place ; for he would never ask his only child a second time, to be the partner of his fortunes and affec- tions Oh dear ! Camp. Well, Sir, but what motive could in- duce this Rashleigh to betray a trust, which, for his own advantage, one would naturally suppose he would be most faithful to ? Owen. I suspect to aid some political purpose, whereby, at the ex pence of honour and con- science, he expects to make a larger per centage of worldly profit. He knew that, to shake the house of Osbaldistone and Co., Crane-Alley, London, was to alarm the Government; the cash he took was no hurt, but the assets the assets, Sir ! liowever, I'll not give 'em up^-I know Rashleigh has conre north. Camp. North ! indeed ! Urn ph he's a cun- ning chield that ! he'll be too cunning for him- self at last a false friend never served a good cause. Owen. You say true, Sir, such people are as variable as the course of exchange. When we reach Glasgow, Sir, perhaps you can assist my enquiries, Camp. I HI meet you there, my friend I OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 5 just recollect a small matter of business that I have to do in this neighbourhood. (jiside) I must go to the Hall Rashleigh has been there, no doubt, and Sir Frederick Vernon may wish to speak. I'll meet you at Glasgow, Mr. Owen. Owen. Heaven help me ! I shall never live to balance an account there, without a companion or a guide. I was never ten miles from Crane- Alley before, in all my days. Camp. Pho ! man, there is no fear. Where shall I hear of yon ? Owen. At Messrs. M'Vittie and M'Fin's, in the Gallowgate, Sir. We have another agent, one Mr. Nicol Jarvie, in the Salt-market ; but I can't depend on him. Camp. Fare ye weel, Mr. Owen. -Rashleigh in the North ! then the heather will soon be on fire. Enter WILLIE. Willie. Here's the 'Squire, to speak with one Maister Owen. f Campbell retires as Frank Osbaldistone enters, and retreats has lily ynperceived). Frank. Owen, my excellent kind friend ! Owen. O, Mr. Frank ! O, Mr. Osbaldistone, such news ! (Wiping his e^es). But why did you never answer our letters mine, and your good father's ? Frank. Letters 1 I have never yet received one. I have written repeatedly, and have been asto- nish'd at receiving no reply. Owen. O Lord ! no letters ! O my stars, no letters ! then they have been intercepted how has your poor father been deceived ! O, Mr. 6 ROB HOY MACGREGOR; Frank, what have you not to answer for ? but that's past now it's all over ! Frank. Good heaven ! is my father-^ is he ill dead ? Owen. No, no, not so bad as that ; thank heaven his day-book is still open but his af- fairs are in worse confusion than my poor brain. Oh dear! Frank. Explain yourself, I beseech you, and in terms less technical. Owen. Well, well, the sum total is that your cousin, Rashleigh, taking advantage of rny good master's absence in Holland, has absconded with papers of such consequence to ourselves and the Government, that unless we can recover them, or get help from our Agents by a certain day, the house of Osbaldistone and Co,, Crane-Alley, London, is in the bankrupt list as sure as the Gazette ! Frank. Gracious Heaven, my folly and dis- obedience then, have ruined my father 1 How shall I redeem the consequence of my error ? Oiven. O, Mr. Frank, you raise my heart ten per cent, to hear you talk in that way. Repair to Glasgow, and assist my poor endeavours. Though you understand little, I grieve to say it, of Debtor and Creditor, you thoroughly under- stand, I rejoice to tell it, the great fundamental principle of all moral accounting the great Ethic Rule of Threelet A do to B, as he would have B do to him, and the product will give the rule of conduct required. Frank. It shall, it must be so ; this very hour I'll bid adieu to the Enchantress, who still must rule my destiny, and seek this destroyer, this traitor, Rashleigh ! Set forward, Owen, instantly : by the time you have made the necessary en- OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 7 quiries at Glasgow, I shall be with you. Oh, Diana ! must we then part ? Owen. Diana ! Ah, love love, I thought so ; never knew a man open an account with him, but his affairs got into confusion. I never had any dealings with him in all my life. It's more dangerous, Mr. Frank, than meddling with con- traband goods ; but I've heard of the consign- ment ! to Miss Diana Vernon, best affections ! Item, heart ! Item, honour ! Item Oh, Mr. Frank, look at the per Contra. Blank ! ruin ! Oh dear ! [Exit Owen. Frank. Yes, for awhile we must separate ; yet, I cannot cease to love, cannot live without her. SONG FKANK. (Words ly BURNS). O my love's like the red red rose That's newly sprung in June; O ray love's like the melody That's sweetly played in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in love am I, And I will love thee still, my dear, Tho* a* the seas gang dry. Till a' the seas gaii dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun ; And I will love thee still, my dear, While the sands of life shall run. But fare thee weel, my only love, And fare thee weel awhile ; And I will come again, my love, Tho' 'twere ten thousand mile. [Exit. ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; SCENE IF. The Library of Qsbaldis tone-Hall DIANA VER- NON and Sir FREDERICK VERNON seated at a Table MARTHA attending. As the Scene is disclosed, DIANA and Sir FRE- DERICK rise, and come forward. A Portrait is conspicuous, full length, after the fashion of which Sir FREDERICK is dressed. Sir Fred. It is now time we separate. Remem- ber, Diana, my instructions We are surrounded by perils, which will require all your prudence to avert 'tis evident, your cousin Francis suspects the visits of a stranger to these apartments, and tho' this dress, resembling that of your ancestor's portrait, has hitherto enabled me to impose on the weak minds of the domestics, his penetration may discover who, and what I am, before the plans are matured, on which my hopes of future happiness now entirely rest. Diana. Rely on my discretion, Sir you may with safety. f Martha takes a Cloak from the back of a Chair, resembling that of a Catholic Priest, and assists Sir Frederick in putting it on}. Martha. Indeed, Sir Frederick I beg pardon Father Vaughan, your reverence has nothing to fear, though you are a Catholic and a Jaco- bite. There is not a soul in the place, myself excepted, that dare stir a foot toward this part of the house after nightfall ! Sir Fred. I repeat, it is not from them I fear OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 9 discovery ; the character I openly bear, of Con- fessor to Miss Vcrnon, is a sufficient security ; but remember, Diana, Francis Osbaldistone and his father are firm adherents of the present Government, and should he discover me, or the purpose which renders my concealment in this part of the country necessary, it might be fatal to the cause of Scotland and to ourselves. Diana. But my cousin is a man of honourable and affectionate feelings : he would never be- tray you, Sir. Sir Fred. You mean, he would never sacrifice his love in the person of Diana Vernon. Subdue those reflections, for the sake of your future peace of mind annihilate them, while it yet is in your power think that you are devoted to a cloister, or the betrothed bride of Rashleigh Os- baldistone. [Exit Sir Frederick at a Tapestry Door. Diana. You may leave me now, Martha. When my cousin Frank returns, say I wish to speak with him here. [Exit Martha. The bride of Rashleigh ! never, never ! any lot rather than that the convent, the jail, the grave! I must act as becomes the descendant of a noble ancestry ! Yet, how preferable is the lot of those, whose birth and situation neither renders them meanly dependant, or raises them to the difficulties and dangers that too often accompany wealth and grandeur. SONG-DiANA. RECITATIVE. I dedicate my lay to thee, Endearing, calm Felicity ! c 10 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; AIR. Ah ! would it were ray humble lot To share with thee some lowly cot, Where Fame and Fortune ne'er intrude To mar the Lover's solilude. Tuen I'd sing nonny, O ! And merry be With love and thee, From morn till e'en so bonny, O ! If far away from lordly pride The stream of life would calmly glide, And I content, if thou wert nigh, In joy could live, in peace could die. And I'd sing nonny, O ! &c. &c, Enter MARTHA, introducing FRANK OSBAL- DISTONE. Frank. Diana, you sent for me. Diana. Yes it was to bid yon farewell; sup- press your amazement, while I tell you I am acquainted with the distresses which the trea- chery of Rashleigh has brought upon your father. Frank. How, in the name of Heaven ! since but within these few minutes I myself was informed ? Diana. Ask me no questions. I have it not in. my power to reply to them. Fate has involv- ed me in such a series of nets and entangle- ments, that I dare hardly speak a word, for fear of consequences. You must meet, and obviate, the difficulties this blow has occasioned. Frank. And how is that possible? Diana. Every thing is possible to him who possesses courage and activity. Frank. What do you advise ? Diana. Quit this place instantly, and for ever ! OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 11 Frank. Diana 1 Diana. You have only one friend to regret ; and she has long been accustomed to sacrifice her friendships and comforts to the welfare of others. (At this moment, Diana's eye rests upon that of Sir Frederick, who lias appeared from behind the Tapestry^ making a sign of anger Diana falters he retires}. Frank. What alarms you ? (Turning} Ha ! I thought Diana. It is nothing, nothing (detaining him) Take Andrew the gardener, for your guide, and repair instantly to Glasgow. Frank. Such was my intention ; but if Rash- leigh has really formed the scheme of plunder- ing his benefactor, and disturbing the state, what prospect is there that I can 6nd means of frus- trating a plan so deeply laid ? Diana. Stay, (yes, I will insist upon it) ; do not leave this room till I return. [Exit Diana. Frank. She has then a confederate, a friend ! perhaps a lover ! Every thing confirms it, the light from these windows, which I have seen at unusual times the footsteps which I have traced in the morning's dew, from the private entrance to the apartment beneath this Library the re- port too of apparitions a thousand circumstances tend to confirm my suspicions. But she comes. Enter DIANA. Diana. Frank, I trust you with this proof of my friendship, because I have the most perfect confidence in your honour. If I understand the nature of this business rightly, the funds in Rashleigh's possession must be recovered by a c 2 & ROB ROY MACGREGOR; certain day; take this packet, but do not open it till all other means have failed. Ten days before the bills are due, you are at liberty to break the seal. . Frank. It has no superscription ! Diana. If you are compelled to open it, you will find directions inclosed. Frank. And now, Diana, after the mysterious, but kind interest you have shewn to my worldly cares, relieve my heart, by explaining Diana. I can explain nothing. Oh, Frank ! we are now to part, perhaps never to meet more ; clo not then make my mysterious miseries em- bitter the last moments we may pass together. In the world, away from me, you may find a being less encumbered by unhappy appearances, less influenced by evil fortunes and evil times. Frank. Never, never ! the world can afford me nothing to repay the loss of her J must leave behind me. DUET DIANA and FRANK. Smiles ma}' light our love to-morrow. Doom'd to part! my faithful heart A gleam of joy from Hope shall borrow. Ah 1 ne'er forget when friends are near, This heart alone is thine, f Q\*'' Thou mayst find those will love thee, dear, But not a love like mine, Tho* you leave, &c. OB, AULD LANG SYNE1 13 SCENE III. An Apartment in the House of Bailie NICOL JAR VIE, at Glasgow. Enter BAILIE and SAUNDERS WYLIE. Bailie. I tell you, Saunders, you're daft you're mad ! Osbaldistone and Co. in danger ! it's im- possible. S. Wylie. It's very true, Sir; and I thought it but right to let you, my old master, know on't. Bailie. Troth, Saunders, you've stunned me with the evil communication. Osbaldistone and Co. fail! stop! Mattie ! Mattie! (Calling off). S. Wylie. Mr. Owen, the head clerk, and junior partner, has been at our house wi' the tidings, and begging for time to take up the bills. Bailie. Owen ! I remember he's a man of figures ! a man of calculation ! if he talks of ruin, by my soul, its not far off! but, why did'n't he call upon Nicol Jarvie ? I am a merchant, and a magistrate, as well as M'Vittie ! but he thinks no more of me, I suppose, than of a Scotch pedlar. Mattie ! O ! Enter MATTIE. Tell the Clerk to bring the ledger. Matt. The Clerk ! Lord, Sir ! he's safe in bed these twa hours ! Bailie The lazy blackguard! a-bed ! then do you fetch it yourself, Mattie. Matt. I'll do your bidding, Sir. [Exit Mattie. Bailie. My Conscience ! I hav'n't had such a uhock since my father, the Deacon (peace be 14 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; with him !) left me to fight my way alone in this wicked world. But what says M'Vittie ? will he grant the time ? * S. Wylie. Not a day, Mr. Jarvie- not an hour! things look so bad, I fear my employers mean to resort to the severest measures. I heard them talk of arresting Mr, Owen, so you had best look to yourself. Enter MATTIE ibitk a Book. Bailie. Let me look at the ledger ! (opening it eagerly). L M N O os Osbal as I'm a Baiiie, the balance must be enormous but I've no heart to run it up (Returning the Book). How much is M'Vittie out with him ? S. Wylie. I can't justly say, but some hun- dreds. Bailie. Hundreds! only hundreds! damn their supple snouts, and would they press a falling man for the sake of hundreds, that have made thousands by him ? Your masters, Wylie, have taken many a good job from between my teeth, but, I'll snap 'em this turn ! S. Wylie. I wish you could, Mr. Jarvie, I wish you could. Ah ! I made a sair change, when I left you to serve two such infernal Bailie. Whisht ! Saunders, whisht! while you eat their bread, don't abuse the scoundrels behind their backs. S. Wylie. You've a kind heart, Mr. Jarvie, and an honest one too. Bailie. So had the Deacon, my father, Saunders, rest, and bless him ! S. Wylie. Would you be pleased to consult on this business with our partners, Sir ? Bailie. No I'll see them both d d that is, On, AULD LANG SVNE! 15 a man that meddles with pitch, must be defiled ! I'd sooner hold a parley with Belzebub ! No, no Nicol Jarvie has a way of his own to manage this matter. Go your ways, Mattie, with that huge memorial of misfortune, and get my walk- ing gear, and the lantern ! [Exit Mattie. As for you, Saunders, speed you home again, and not a word, man, that you've seen me. [Exit S. Wylie. Osbaldistone and Cd. stop ! my Conscience! I'd sooner ha' dreamed o' the downfal of the Bank o' London ! Why, its enough to make the very hairs o' my wig rise, and stand on end ! but the distress can't be permanent At any rate, I'll prove myself a friend if the House re- gains its credit, I shall recover my loss, and if riot, why I have done as 1 would be done by, like my father, the Deacon, good man ! blessings on his memory, say I ! that taught me good-will towards my fellows ! Enter MATTIE, decked out for walking her jlpron pinned up y s?c. and bearing the Bailie's Great Coat, Hat y Lantern, *fc. Matt. I've brought your gear, Sir ; but, gude save us! where wad 'you be ganging to, a' sic a time o'night ? Bailie. You'll soon know, Mattie, for you must e'en tramp along wi' me. I wouldn't like to be breaking my shins in the dark just now, for truth t6 speak, I'd never more occasion to stand firm on my legs, both at home and abroad. Now, give us the beaver, lassie. Matt. Weel ! to think o'putting on claithes when ye suld be taking 'em off, and scampering abroad, when ye suld be ganging to your bed. 16 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; Bailie. Time and tide wait for no man. Matt. But where are you going, Bailie ? Bailie. To many places, that I'd as lief bide away from. Matt. Now wrap this kerchief about your thrapple. Bailie. You're a kind-he'arted lassie, Mattie ! Matt. There leave a wee bit room for your mouth ye must needs ha' a drap o'the cordial, your father, the Deacon was so fond of he aye liked to sip it. Bailie. Rest, and bless him ! so he did ! and so do I, Mattie! (Drinks). You're a good- tempered soul, and a bonnie lassie too ! you come of good kith and kin, Mattie the Laird o'Limmef field's Cousin only seven times removed. (Mattie is moving away the Bottle). Stay ! you may bring the bottle with you, Mattie, and tuck yourself under my arm there's no disgrace in a Bailie walking hand in arm with gentle blood! so, come your ways, Mattie! Osbal- distone and Co. stop! My Conscience! Come along, Mattie. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Glasgow. The Bridge extending in perspective to the opposite side of the River. The Tolbooth, or Jail, conspicuous in front. Enter FRANK OSBALDISTONE and ANDREW. And. Well, Sir, thanks to the good guidance of Andrew, here you ai e in Glasgow, 'spite o'the bogles and bad ways. Frank. Was it the bogles, or the brandy, that made you ride at such an infernal pace ? you are half drunk, you scoundrel ! but get you gone See the horses taken care of, and order some- On, AULD LANG SYNE ! 17 thing for my supper ; while it's preparing I shall walk here upon the bridge. (Campbell, muffled in a long Cloak , ap- pears at tJie back, and seeing Andrew, retreats). And. A walk by moonlight after a long ride, is but cold comfort for aching bones! but your Honour knows best. He's crack-brain'd, and cockle-headed with his poetry nonsense ; he'd sooner by half chatter to Miss Vernon, than hear a word of sense from a sober body, like myself. [Exit Andrew. Frank. 'Tis now too late to learn tidings of poor Owen, or enquire the residence of my father's agents. Bitter reflection ! All this I might have prevented, by a trifling sacrifice of the foolish pride and indolence which recoiled from sharing the labours of his honourable pro- fession. CAMPBELL advances. Camp. Mr. Osbaldistone. you are in danger ! Frank. From whom ? (Starting). Camp. Follow me, and you shall know. Frank. I must first know your name and pur- pose. Camp. I am a man, and my purpose friendly. Frank. That is too brief a description. Camp. It will serve for one who has no other to give. He that is without name, without friends, without coin, and without country, is at least a man ! and he that has all these, is no more ! Follow me, or remain without the infor- mation I wish to afford. Frank. Can you not give it me here ? D 18 ROB ROY MACGREGOK* Camp. No you must receive it from your eyes, not from my mouth. What is it you fear ? Frank. I fear nothing walk on, I attend you. Camp. If you knew who was by your side, you might feel a tremor. Frank. The spirit of Rashleigh seems to walk round me yet, 'tis neither his form or voice ! (Apart). Camp. Would you not fear the consequence of being found with one whose very name, whisper'd in this lonely street, would make the stones themselves rise up to apprehend him ? on whose head, the men of Glasgow would build their fortunes, as on a found treasure ! the sound of whose downfal, were as welcome at the Cross of Edinburgh, as the news of a battle fought and won ! Frank. Who then are you, whose name should create such terror ? Camp. No enemy of yours, since I am con- veying you to a place, where, if I myself were recognized and identified, irons to the heels, and hemp to the throat, would be my brief dooming. Frank. You have said either too much, or too little, to induce me to confide in you. (Campbell makes a step towards Frank, who draws back, and lays his hand on his Sword). Camp. What ! on an unarm'd man, and your friend ? Frank. I am yet ignorant if you are one or the other. Camp. Well, I respect him whose hand can keep his head ! I love a free young blood, that knows no protection but the cross of the sword ! On, AULD LANG SYNE ! 19 I am taking you to see one, whom you will be right glad to see, and from whose lips you will learn the secret of the danger in which you now stand. Come on i (Campbell goes to the wicket-gate of the Tol- booth, and knocks). Doug. (Within). Who's that? Camp. Gregarach ! (The door is opened Campbell beckons Frank, and they enter the door heard to be locked and bolted). SCENE V. Interior of the Tolbooth. DOUGAL enters, followed by CAMPBELL and FRANK, DOUGAL expressing extravagant joy he has a shock head of red hair, and an extraordinary personal appearance; a huge bundle of Keys at his belt, and a Lamp in his hand. Camp. Dougal, you have not forgotten me ? Doug. De'il a bit de'il a bit ! where shall I go? what shall I do for ye ? Oigh ! its lang since she has seen you. Frank. She ! she seen him ! Is it then a fe- male to whom I am conducted ? or, is it merely the dialect of his country, in which that animal expresses himself? (As Frank says this apart, Campbell speaks to Dougal, and points to his Companion). Doug. To be sure she will, with all her heart, with all her eoul ! but what will come o'ye, D2 20 ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; if the Bailies should call, or the Captain should wake ? Camp. Fear nothing, Dougal ; your hands shall never draw a bolt upon me. Doug. She would hack 'em off at the elbows first. Camp. Then dispatch ! Doug. Wi' all her soul ! (He trims his Lamp, and beckons Frank, who perceiving Campbell does not follow , pauses). Frank. Do you not go with us ? Camp. It is unnecessary my company might be inconvenient. I had better remain, and se- cure our retreat lose no time ! (Frank and Dougal pass off on one side Campbell at that on which they entered). SCENE VI. A Cell in the TolboothA Pallet Bed on one side, with a person reposing in it A small 'Table and Chair. DOUGAL opens the Door and advances, followed ly FRANK. Frank. I cannot suppose he means to betray me yet 'tis strange Doug, (having looked toivards the Bed) She's asleep ! Frank. She ! Who ? Doug. Gentlemens to speak wi* her. (Rous- ing the Sleeper). Owen. Ey ! what ! -Oh dear ! On, AULD LANG SYNE! 21 (Owen pops his head, adorned with a red Night-cap, from beneath the clothes, just as Frank has eagerly advanced). Frank. Owen ! (Pausing in surprize). Owen. I'll tell you what, Mr. Dugwell, or whatever your name may be, the sum-total of the amount is this if my natural rest is to be broken in upon in this manner, I'll complain to the Lord Mayor. Doug. Ugh ! Cha neil Sassenach. [Exit. Frank. Owen ! Owen. Ey ! Oh dear ! have they caught you too ! then our last hope fails, and the account is closed. Frank. Do not be so much alarmed all may not be so bad as you expect. Owen. O, Mr. Frank ! we are^gone 1 Osbal. distone and Co. Crane-Alley, London, is no longer a Firm ! I think nothing of myself ! I am a mere cypher but you! that were your father's sum-total, as I may say his Omnium ! that might have been the first man in the first house in the first city, to be shut up in a nasty Scotch jail Oh dear ! Frank. I am no prisoner, my good friend, though I can scarcely account for my being in such a place at such a time. Owen. Not a prisoner ! Heaven be gracious to us ! But what news this will be upon 'Change ! Frank. Cease these lamentations, and let me know the cause of your being here. Chven. It's soon told, Mr. Frank When I disclosed my business to Messrs. M 4 Vittie and M'Fin, instead of instant assistance, they de- manded instant security ; and as I am liable, be- 22 ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; ing a small Partner in our House, they made oath that I meditated departing this realm, and had recourse to a summary process of arrest and imprisonment, which it seems the law here allows, and and here I am ! Oh dear ! Frank. Why did you not apply to our other Correspondent, Mr. Nicol Jar vie ? Owen. What, the cross-grained crabstock in the Salt-market ? 'Twould have been of no use. You might as well ask a broker to give you up his percentage, as expect a favour from him with- out the per contra. O! Mr. Frank ! this is all your doing ! but I beg pardon for saying so to you in your distress. Enter CAMPBELL hastily, and DOUGAL. Doug. O hone a rie ! O hone a rie! what'll she do now ? it's my Lord Provost, and the Bailies, and the Guard ! hide yoursel behind the bed, The Captain has open'd the wicket ! Camp. Lend me your pistols yet it's no mat- ter, I can do without them. Whatever you see, take no heed do not mix your hand in another man's quarrel. t [Exit Dougal. I must manage as I can. MATTIE enters, followed by Bailie NICOL JARVIE. Bailie. (Looking back). I'll call when I want you, Stanchells. Dougal shall make all fast, or I'll make him fast, the scoundrel! A bonnie thing, and beseeming, that I should be kept at the door half an hour, knocking as hard to get into jail, as any body else would to get out on't ! How's this ? (Seeing Campbell and Frank) OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 23 Strangers in the Tolbooth after lock-up hours ! Keep the door Ipck'd, you Dougal IIP soon talk to these Gentlemen ; but I must first have a crack with an old acquaintance. Ah ! Mr. Owen, how's all with you, Mr, Owen ? Owen. Pretty well, in body, Mr. Jarvie, I thank you, but sore afflicted in spirit. Bailie. Ay, ay, we are all subject to downfals, as my father, the Deacon, used to say" Nick," said he (his name was Nicol, as well as mine, so the folks called us Young Nick, and Old Nick !) " Young Nick," said he, " never put out your arm farther than you can draw it easily back again." Owen. You need not have called these things to my memory in such a situation, Mr. Nicoi Jarvie. Bailie. What! do you think I came out at such a time o'night, to tell a falling man of his back- slidings? No that's not Bailie Jarvie's way, nor his worthy father's, the Deacon, afore him. 1 soon discovered what lodgingsyour/h'ewcfo had provided you, Mr. Owen ; but give us your list, man, and let us see how things stand between us while I rest my shanks. Mattie, hold the lantern. (Taking Papers from Owen, and sitting at the corner of the Bed Dougal at watch at the Door Campbell moves towards it 9 making a sign to Frank). Camp. Say nothing ! fin a low tone). Bailie. Ey ! look to the door there, you Dougal creature let me hear you lock it, and keep watch on the outside. Owen. There, Sir, you'll find the balance in 24 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; the wrong column for us but you'll please to consider Bailie. There's no time to consider, Mr. Owen 'tis plain you owe me money ; but I can't, for the soul of me, see how you'll clear it off by snoring here in the Tolbooth ! Now, Sir, if you won't fly the country, you shall be at liberty in the morning. Owen. O, Sir ! O, Mr. Jarvie ! Bailie. I'm a careful man as any in the SalU market, and I'm a prudent man, as my father the Deacon, good soul ! was before me but rather than that double-faced dog, M'Vittie, shall keep an honest, civil gentleman by the heels, I'll be your bail myself ! I'll be your bail (Owen goes up to him in raptures, but fails in his attempt to speak). There, you've said enough ! but in the name of misrule, how got ye companions ? Gi' me the light, Mattie. (He catches it from her, and holding it to- wards Campbell, who is seated calm'y on the Table, starts back). Ey! My Conscience ! it's impossible and yet I'm clean bambaized why, you robber! you Cateran ! you cheat-the-gallows rogue ! Owen. Bless me ! it's my good friend, Mr. .Campbell ! a very honest man, Mr. Jarv Bailie, Honest ! My Conscience ! You in the Glasgow Tolbooth ! What d'ye think's the Value of your head ? (Tb Campbell). Camp. Umph ! why, fairly weighed one Pro- vost, four Bailies, a Town Clerk, and six Deacons ! Bailie. Deacons ! Was there ever such a born On, AULD LANG SYNE! 25 devil ! but, tell over your sins, for if I say the word . Camp. True, Bailie ; but you never will say that word. Bailie. And why not why not, Sir ? Camp. For three sufficient reasons First, for auld lang syne Secondly, for the good wife, that made some mixture of our bloods and last, Bailie Jarvie, because if I saw any sign of your be- traying me, I'd plaister that wall with your brains, 'ere the hand of man could rescue yon. Bailie. (Clapping his hand to his head) My Conscience! Well, well, it would be quite as un- pleasant for me to have my head knocked about, as it would be discreditable to string up a kinsman in a hempen cravat! but, if it hadn't been yourself, I'd have gripp'd the best man in the Highlands. Camp. You'd have tried, Bailie. Bailie. And who the devil's this ? (To Frank) another honest man ? Owen. This, good Sir, is Mr. Francis Osbaldi- stone. Bailie. O, I've heard o' this spark ! run away from his father, in pure dislike to the labour an honest man should live by. Well, Sir, what do you say to your handy -work ? Frank. My dislike of the commercial profes- sion, Mr. Jarvie, is a feeling of which I am the best, and sole judge ! Owen. O dear ! (Owen holds up his hands). Camp. It's manfully spoken ! and I honour the lad for his contempt of weavers and spinners, and all such mechanical persons. (Here Owen retires again to bed). 26 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; Bailie. Weavers and spinners indeed ! I'm a weaver and spinner, and who better ? Will all your ancestry tell where Rashleigh is, or all your deep oaths and drawn dirks procure Mr. Frank five thousand pounds to answer the bills which fall due in ten days ? Frank. Ten days ! is the time so near ? T may then have recourse (Frank has drawn out the Letter, opened it, and an enclosure falls from the envelope the Bailie catches it up). Bailie. My Conscience ! for Rob Roy ! .Frank. Rob Roy ! (Campbell instantly snatches the Letter}. Bailie. As I'm a Bailie, there were ten thou- sand chances against its coming to hand. Frank You are too hasty, Sir ; I was not, in this instance, desirous of your interference. Camp. Make yourself easy ! Diana Vernon has more friends than you know of. Frank. Is it possible ! is the fate of a being so amiable, involved in that of a man of such desperate fortunes and character ? Camp. (Having read aside) So, Rashleigh sent these papers to the Highlands. It's a ha- zardous game she has given me to play, but I'll not baulk her. Mr. Osbaldistone, you must visit me in the glens and, cousin, if you dare venture to shew him the way, and eat a leg of red deer venison with me, I'll pay the two hun- dred pounds I owe you ; and you can leave Mr. Owen the while to do the best he can in Glasgow. Bailie. Say no more, Robin say no more ! OR, AULD LANG SYNE ! 27 but you must guarantee me safe home again to the Salt-market. Camp. There's my thumb I'll ne'er beguile you but I must be going the air of Glasgow Tolbooth is not over wholesome for a High- lander's constitution. Bailie. O ! that I should be aiding and abetting an escape from justice ! it will be a dis- grace to me, and mine, and the memory of my father, for ever ! Camp. Hout hout, man ! when the dirt's dry it will rub out. - Your father could look over a friend's faults, and why nor your father's son ? Bailie. So he could, Robin he was a good man, the Deacon you remember him, Rob ? Camp. Troth, do I ! he was a weaver, and wrought my first pair of hose. Bailie. Take care his son doesn't weave your last cravat ! You've a long craig for a gibbet^ Rob ! But, where's that Dougal creature ? Camp. If he is the lad I think him, he has not waited your thanks for his share of this night's work. Bailie. What, gone ! left me and Mattie lock'd up in jail for all night! I'll hang the Highland devil as high as Haman ! Camp. When you catch him. But see (Frank and Mattie have hastened to the door, and find it open). He knew an open door might serve me at a pinch. Bailie. Stanchells, let this stranger out he he's a friend o' mine ! Camp. Fare ye well ! be early with me at Aberfoil, E2 28 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; " Now, open your gate, and let me go free, " 1 dare na* stay longer in bonny Dundee." [Exit Rob. Bailie. So that Dougal creature was an agent of Rob's. I shouldn't wonder if he has one in every jail in Scotland Well, I have done things this night, that my father, the Deacon, rest be with him ! would not ha' believed ! but there's balm in Gilead Mr. Owen, I hope to see you t breakfast Ey ! why the man's fast ! (Owen snores). Frank. And the sooner we depart, and follow his example, Sir, the better it must be near midnight. Bailie. Midnight ! Well, Mattie shall light you home, but no tricks none of your London no, now I think again, I'll see you home myself. (St. Mungo's Clock strikes twelve} . FINALE. FRANK, BAILIB JARVIE, OWEN, STANCHBLLS, and MATTIE. Frank. Hark! hark! now from St. Mango's tower The bell proclaims the midnight hour, Borne! Mattie. And thro* the city far and near, From spire and turret now I hear, Borne! Both. Ere yet the first vibration dies. Each iron tongue of time replies, Borne! Owen. A ugh J OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 29 Bailie. Hark! hark! from Mister Owen's nose, A cadence deep ! a dying close, Owen. A ugh ! Frank $ Ere yet > &c * Mat.Bail >^ re ^ et tnc ^ rst vibration dies, ' (His nasal organ quick replies, Borne! Borne! Owen. Aus:h ! Bless me ! every way Pra undone, 1 did not dream of being here; But snug in sweet Crane-Alley, London, And Stocks were up, and I O dear ! ALL. frank, Bailie &r Mattie. Owen Sf Stanch. Home, home, 5 ^ > must no longer stay, For soon will peep the morning light. NowS ^ us ?ha t S come > con[ iC)? Jj ^ ?pray make$ ' I go, go, $g Farewell at once, at once good night. END OF ACT I. ROB ROY MACGREGOR; ACT II. SCENE I. The College-yard, or Walking Grounds at Glasgow. Enter RASHLEIGH OSBALDISTONE, M'VITTIE, and JOBSON rather behind him, as waiting his instructions he walks rapidly, turns and pauses. Rash. Galbraith and Stuart are in the neigh- bourhood of Aberfoil. Good! When did Captain Thornton march ? Job. Yesterday morning, Sir. Rash. Umph ! you are certain that order for the arrest of those two persons I described, was given to him ? Job. I delivered it myself into his own hands, Sir. Rash. Mr. M'Vittie ! M'Fit. (Advancing). Mr. Rashleigh ! Rash. You committed Mr. Owen to prison, you say is he there now ? M'Vit. He is ! Rash. If my cousin, Mr. Francis Osbaldi- stone, follows him to Glasgow, instantly enforce the warrant, of which Jobson has a duplicate. M'Fit* It shall be done, you may depend on it, Sir. Rash. 'Tis of importance to keep him out of the way that man is a basilisk in my sight, and has been an insurmountable barrier to my dearest On, AULD LANG SYNE! 31 ! Now, Sir, a parting word if you breathe a syllable to any human being of the business which the Government has entrusted to my di- rection, before the blow is struck which must counteract the intended rising in the Highlands, you share the destiny of the rankest rebel among them. (M'Vittie bows). As to the papers which I forwarded to M'Gregor, 'ere long they shall be again in my possession, and himself in your custody ! Jobson, what hour is it ? [Exit M'Vittie. Job. Not yet five, Sir. Rash. That's well ; we have no time before us. Make yourself ready, and be well armed. Job. Armed ! There's no retreating ; but if I had known I was to have used any weapon but the sword of justice, I'd never have given her scales into his hands. (Apart). Rash. Leave me ! [Exit Jobson. M'Gregor is by this time in the Highlands. He still believes me faithful to the cause I have hitherto so ardently encouraged and assisted ; and these papers (which I now regret having committed to his care) will at least serve to aid the delusion. Cursed infatuation ! yet Ire* pine not, for I have the power to check the gaze of cunning, probe all hearts, and watch the varying cheek ; link'd with success, it moulds each other's weakness to my will such it hath been, and such it shall be now! Rejected by her I loved, scorned by him I would have served, they shall at least rind the false friend and the renegade knows how to resent such insults. Ah! ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; Enter FRANK OSBALOISTONE. (Rashleigh starts, but instantly recovers himself}. Frank. You are well met, Sir. Rash. I am glad to hear it. (Aside) He's earlier than I expected; but M'Vittie is pre- pared. Frank. I was about to take a long and doubt- ful journey in quest of you. Rash. You know little of him you sought then. I'm easily found by my friends, still more easily by my foes in which am i to class Mr. Francis Osbaldistone ? Frank. In that of your foes, Sir, your mortal foes, unless you instantly do justice to my fa- ther, by accounting for his property. Rash. And to whom am I, a member of your father's commercial establishment, to be com- pelled to give an account of my proceedings ? Surely, not to a young gentleman, whose exqui- site taste for literature would render such dis- cussions disgusting and unintelligible. Frank. Your sneer, Sir, is no answer ; you shall accompany me to a Magistrate. Rash. Be it so; yet, no were I inclined to do as you would have me, you should soon feel which of us had most reason to dread the presence of a Magistrate; but I have no wish to accelerate your fate. Go, young man, amuse yourself in your world of poetical imaginations, and leave the business of life to those who understand, and can conduct it. Frank: This tone of calm insolence shall not a?ailyou! the name we both bear, never yet submitted to insult. OR, AULD LANG SYNE ! 33 Rash. Right ! right ! you remind me, that it was dishonoured in my person ; and you remind me also by whom ! Think you I have forgot- ten that blow never to be washed out, but by blood ! For the various times you have crossed my path, and always to my prejudice ; for the per- severing folly with which you seek to traverse schemes, the importance of which you neither know, nor are capable of estimating, you owe me a long account ! and fear not, there shall come an early day of reckoning. Frank. Why not the present? Do your schemes or your safety require delay ? Rash. You may trample on the harmless worm, but, pause, 'ere you rouse the slumbering venom of the folded snake. Frank. I will not be trifled with. Rash. I had, other views respecting you ; but, enough Receive now the chastisement of your boyish insolence ! (They draw, and at the moment their swords cross, M'Gregor rushes forward, and beats down their Guard). Camp. Hold ! stand off! Rash. M'Gregor! Camp. By the hand of my father, the first man that strikes, I'll cleave him to the brisket. (To Frank^ Think you to establish your father's credit by cutting your kinsman's throat ? Or do you (to Rash.) imagine men will trust their lives and fortunes, and a great political interest, with one that brawls about like a drunken Gillie ? Nay, never look grim, or gash at me, man ! if you're angry, turn the buckle of your belt be- hind you ! Rash. You presume on my present situation, F 34 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; or you would hardly dare interfere where my ho- nour is concerned. Camp. Presume? And what for should it be presuming? Ye may be the richer man, Mr. Os- baldistone, as is most likely, and ye may be the more learned man, which I dispute not; but you are neither a better or a braver man than myself and it will be news to me> indeed, when I hear you are half as good! And dare too? dare! Hout, tout ! much daring there is about it. Rash. (Aside) What devil brought him here, to mar a plan so well devised ? I must lure him to the toils. Camp. What say you ? Rash. My kinsman will acknowledge he forced this on me. I'm glad we were interrupted before I chastised his insolence too severely the quar- rel was none of my seeking. Camp. Well then, walk with me I have news for you. Frank. Pardon me, I will not lose sight of him, till he has done justice to my father. Camp. Would you bring two on your head in- stead of one ? Frank. Twenty ! rather than again neglect my duty. Hash. You hear him, M'Gregor ! Is it my fault, that he rushes on his fate ? The warrants are out ! Camp. Warrants ! curses on all such instru- ments ! the plague of poor old Scotland for this hundred year but, come on't what will, I'll never consent to his being hurt, that stands up for the father that begot him ! Rash. Indeed ! Camp. My conscience will not let me. OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 35 Rash. Your conscience ! M'Gregor ! Camp. Yes, my conscience, Sir ; I have such a thing about me that, at least, is one advantage you cannot boast of. Rash. You forget how long you and I have known each other. Camp. If you know what I am, you know what usage made me what I am ; and however you may think, I would not change with the proudest of the oppressors that have driven me to take the heather-bush for a shelter. What you are, and what excuse you have for being what you are, lies between your heart and the long day. Rash. (Aside) Can M c Gregor suspect? has M'Vittie betrayed ? Camp. Leave him, I say I you are more in danger from a Magistrate than he is -And were your cause as straight as an arrow, he'd find a way to warp it ! (Frank has persisted in not leaving Rashleigh, and is withheld by Campbell). Take your way, Rashleigh! make one pair of legs worth two pair of handsYou have done that before now. Rash. Cousin, you may thank this Gentleman, if I leave any part of my debt to you unpaid ; and I quit you now, but in the hope that we shall soon meet again, without the possibility of interrup- tion. [Exit. Camp. (As Frank struggles to follow) As I live by bread, you are as mad as he ! Would you follow the wolf to his den? (Pushes Frank back). Come, come, be cool ! 'tis me you must look to for that you seek ! Keep aloof from Rashleigh, and that pettifogging Justice-Clerk, F2 36 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; Jobson ! above all, from M'Vittie ! Make the best of your way to Aberfoil and, by the word of a M'Gregor, I will not see you wronged I Remember ! the Clachan of Aberfoil ! (Campbell shakes the hand of Frank with great cordiality, and tfiey separate). SCENE II. The Library at Osbaldistone-Hall. (A knocking heard without). Sir FREDERICK VERNON enters with haste and agitation. Sir Fred. I was not mistaken it is at the pri- vate door ! (Knocking repeated). Martha ! Martha ! I dread the purport of this unexpected visit yet, what should I fear? Martha ! MARTHA enters. Martha. I come ! I come ! bless me, I'm all in a tremble I Sir Fred. Is Diana in the next apartment ? Martha. Yes, truly, and full of wonder and apprehension, Sir Fred. Haste, and observe the appearance of this person Question, but do not admit him 'till I know his errand. [Exit Martha. Can it be Campbell ? Rashleigh f> No ! per- haps a courier from the Earl of Mar My hopes, my existence hangs upon a thread ! either Scot- land has her right restored, or I have nothing more to do with life ! Well ? OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 37 Re-enter MARTHA, with a Letter. Martha. A Gentleman a Cavalier a I know not what to call him this, he said, would speak for him (Giving a Letter, which Sir Fre- derick, opens t and reads with agitationJA.nd well it can, for he had scarcely breath to say, " Deliver that !" when he put spurs to his pant- ing steed, and dashed from the wicket, as if he had seen a worlock or a witch, instead of a decent looking lassie. Sir Fred. Betrayed! ruined! lost! Desire my daughter to attend me. [Exit Martha. O, villain ! villain ! I had suspicions, but little did I expect so sudden, so fatal a confirmation ! This ill-advised confidence in Rashleigh has ruin- ed all. To yield, or to be taken now, were but to lay our heads upon the block. But 'tis yet too strong a cause, to be abandoned for the breath of a traitor's tale ! Promptness and decision often restore to health and vigour, that which despair would leave hopelessly to perish I must hasten instantly to the Highlands If our friends there are as weak as some are false, but one course remains an immediate escape to France. Enter DIANA. Diana. Dear Sir, what means this unusual summons ? Sir Fred. Diana, our perils are now at the ut- most you must accompany, and share them with me. Diana. Willingly ! Sir Fred. Contemplate the dangers which sur- round us, with firmness and resolution ! rely on 38 ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; the justice of Heaven, and the unshaken con- stancy of your own mind. Diana. I have been taught endurance, and will not shrink from it. What I have borne for your sake, I can bear again! But the cause? Some political secret ? Sir Fr6d. Yes which your late rejection of Rashleigh for a husband, has induced him to betray contrary to the oath by which he bound himself. Sir Fred. But prepare instantly for your de- parture. Diana. Whither to go ? Sir Fred. First to the Highlands I must en- deavour to see M'Gregor You shall know more when I have made my own arrangements. I will relieve the distresses of your cousin, Francis, if possible; but the solemn contract that has bound me to Rashleigh, leaves the convent your whole and sole resource, unless, indeed, you renounce the creed in which you have been educated. Diana. Forsake the faith of my gallant Fa- thers ! I would as soon, were I a man, forsake their banners when the tide of war press'd hard- est, and turn, like a hireling recreant, to join its enemies ! (Sir Frederick clasps her with transport to his bosom, and exit). Yes, when the gathering cry is heard upon the hills, there's not a lassie but will share her hero's danger, and thus sing the praise of her gallant Highlandman. OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 39 SONG DIANA. (Words by BURNS). A Highland lad ray love was born, The Lowland Laws he held 'in scorn, But he still was faithful to his Clan, My gallant braw John Highlandman. Sing hey my braw John Highlandman, Sing ho my braw John Highlandman, There's not a lad in a' the Clan, Can match \vi* my braw Highlandman. With his bonnet blue, and tartan plaid, And good claymore down by his side , . The Ladies' heart he did trepan, My gallant braw John Highlandman. Sing hey, &c. SCENE III. Interior of JEAN M e ALPINE'S Hut, in the Vil- lage of AberfoiL Turf^fire, with branches of dry wood A Door, composed of basket-work , in lieu of plank Two square holes, by way of Windows; one stuffed with a Plaid, the other with a tattered Great-coat. At an Oak-table^ near the fire, sits Major GAL- BRAITH of the Lennox Troopers M*STUART, of the Highland Infantry ', wearing the Trews, which distinguishes him from ALLAN, another Highlander. In one corner lies a Highlander asleep, his Sword and Target near him. . M' Stuart. Enough! enough! Galbraith I'll drink my quart of Usquebaugh, or brandy, with any man ; but we have work in hand, just now, and had better look to it. Galb. Hout, man ! meat and mess never yet hindered work ! had it been my directing instead of this RishRash what's the Saxon's name ? 40 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; M' Stuart. Have a care, Galbraith ! (Pointing to the Sleeper). Don't let the brandy be too bold for your brain. Gall. I say, tbe Garrison, and our Troopers, with Captain Thornton's party, could have taken Rob Roy without bringing you from the Glens to Aberfoil here. There's the hand that should lay him on the green, and never ask a Highlander for help. dllan. Come, come, 'tis time we were going. Gall. Going ! why 'tis here Thornton was appointed to meet us ; besides, mind the old saw " It's a bauld moon, quoth Bennygask another pint, quoth Leslie." We'll not start 'till we've finished it. SONG* GALBRAITH. A famous man is Robin Hood, The English ballad singers' joy ; Bat Scotland has a thief as good- She has her bold Rob Roy. A dauntless heart M'Gregor shews, And wondrous length and strength of arm j He long has quell'd his Highland foes, And kept his friends from harm. Chorus. A famous man, &c. His daring mood protects him still, For this the robber's simple plan, That they should take who have the will, And they should keep who can. And while Rob Roy is free to rove, In summer's heat and winter's snow : The eagle be is lord above, And Rob is lord below. Chorus. A famous man, &c; * The words of this Song are varied, for the purpose of being set to Music, from the first lines of a Poem by Mr. Wordsworth, called " Rob Roy's Grave." OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 41 (Jean M'Alpine is heard in loud expostula- tion with Frank Osbaldistone and the Bailie. The party look round angrily, and then at each other with surprize The Sleeper raises his head, and discovers (lie features o/'DougaL He secures his Sword and Target, and resumes his position as the new comers enter). Jean. Indeed, Gentlemen, my house is taken up vvi' them that will not like to be intruded on. Frank. But, my good woman, we are dying with hunger. Bailie. Starving ! six hours since I have tasted a morsel, except the rough, tough legs of an old moorcock. Jean. You'd better go further than fare worse. Bailie. I've other eggs upon the spit I'll not stir, woman. Jean. Well, well ; a wilful man must have his way But I wash my hands on't. Frank. I must make the best apology I can to your guests, but as they are so few, I hope little will be required for adding two more to their company. [Exit Jean M'Alpine. (The Bailie has turned up a meal-tub, and seated himself very composedly near the fire). Galb. You make yourself at home, Sir ! (B'd\\\e starts up)* Frank. We usually do, Sir, (Advancing) when we enter a house of public entertainment. Bailie. Pray, Gentlemen, don't be angry we are only bits of Glasgow bodies, travelling to get in some siller. G 42 ROB ROY MACGRE1GOR; M'Siuart. Did you not see by the white wand at the door, that the public-house was occupied ? Frank. The white wand ! I do not pretend to understand the customs of this country ! but I am yet to learn, how three persons should be entitled to exclude all other travellers from the only place of shelter and refreshment for miles round. Bailie. There is no reason for it, Gentlemen we mean no offence, and if a stoup of brandy will make up the quarrel Galb. Damn your brandy ! Bailie. That's civil ! you seem to have had too much already, to judge by your manners. M* Stuart. We desire neither your brandy nor your company. Galb. If ye be pretty men, draw ! (Unsheaths his Sword). (Allan and Frank do the same). Bailie. I am neither a pretty man, nor have I any thing to draw ; but, by the soul of my fa- ther, the Deacon, I'll not take a blow without giving a thrust ! (Runs to the fire, and seizes a red-hot poker J. So, he that likes it, has it! they make a tilt at each other, Dougal starts up 9 and darts between the Bailie and M'Stuart). Doug. Her own self has eaten the Town- bread o' Glasgow, and she'll fight for Bailie Jar- vie at Aberfoii troth, will she ! Allan. Hold ! hold ! the quarrel's not mortal and the Gentlemen have given reasonable sa- tisfaction. Bailie. I'm glad to hear it ! On, AULD LANG SYNE! 43 Galb. Well, well, as the Gentlemen have shewn themselves men of honour M'Stuart. But saw ever any body a decent Gentleman fight wi' a firebrand before ? Figh ! my bonnie plaiddie smells like a singed sheep's head! Bailie. Let that be no hind'rance to good fel- lowship ; there's always a plaister for a broken head If I've burnt your plaiddie, I can mend it with a new one I'm a weaver. M'Stuart. But the next time you fight, let it be with your sword, and not like a wild Indian. Bailie. My Conscience ! every man must do as he can I was obliged to grip at the first thing that offered, and as I'm a Bailie, I wouldn't wish a better. Galb. Come, fill a brimmer ! let's drink, and agree like honest fellows ! (Frank and Galbraith have paused at the interference of Dougal, who leaves the Hut during the parley, unnoticed- Gal- braith then turns to the Table, after sheath- ing his Sword Frank does the same, and the Bailie replaces the Poker). Bailie. Well, now I find there's no hole in my wame, I shan't be the worse for putting some- thing into it. (Seats himself). (Andrew with a Letter in his hand, appears at the door, terrified for fear of intrud- ing. Frank beckons him forward). And. I'm an honest lad, Sir I would not part with your Honour lightly -but, the the the read that ! Frank. Tis from Campbell ! (Reads). " There are hawks abroad, and I cannot meet 41 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; you at Aberfoil, as intended. The bearer is faithful, and may be trusted he will guide you to a place where we shall be safe, and free to look after certain affairs, in which I hope to be your guidance. " RORERT MACGREGOR CAMPBELL." Hawks ! he means the Government forces. From whom did you receive this ? And. From a Highland devil wi' red hair- that that (Andrew perceives Dougal's head at the Window). Frank. Have the horses saddled, and be ready at a minute's notice. (Dougal, satisfied that the Letter has been ready disappears^). And. De'il be in my feet if I stir a toe's length further to gang into Rob Roy's country, is a mere tempting o' Providence. Frank. Wait without ! one way or other I will determine speedily. \_Eocit Andrew. Bailie. Let Glasgow flourish ! I'll hear no language offensive to the Duke of Argyle, and the name of Campbell remember the poker- my Conscience ! I say, he's a credit to the country, and a friend to our town and trade ! (They all rise}. Gall. Ah ! there'll be a new world soon. We shall have no Campbells cocking their bonnets so high, and protecting thieves and murderers, to harry and spoil better men, and more loyal clans ! Bailie. More loyal clans, I grant you but no better men, Galb. No ! (Laying his hand on his Sword). On, AULD LANG SYNE ! 45 Frank, Pray, Gentlemen, do not renew your quarrel in a few moments we must part com- pany. A/' Stuart. That's true ; why should we make hot blood? but we are plagued and harried here, Sir, with meetings, to put down Rob Roy ! I have chased the M'Gregor, Sir, like a red deer had him at bay and still the Duke of Argyle gives him shelter it's enough to make one mad ! but I'd give something to be as near him as I have been. Bailie. You'll forgive me for speaking my mind but it's my thought, you'd ha' given the best button in your bonnet to have been as far away from Rob Roy, as you are now ! My Conscience ! my hot poker would have been no- thing to his claymore. M* Stuart. A word more o' the poker, and by my soul, I'll make you eat your words, and a handful o* cold steel Frank. Come, come, Gentlemen, let us be all friends here ; and drink to all friends far away. SONGFRANK. (Words by BURNS). Should auld acquaintance be forgot, And never brought to mind ? Should auld acquaintam e be forgot, And days o' lang sync ? For auld lang syne, my friends, For auld lang sync, We'll tk* a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. Chorus. For auld lang syne, &c. 46 ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; An* here's a hand, my trusty Friend, An' gie's a hand o' thine, An* we'll toom the stowp to friendship's growth, An* days o' lang syne. Chorus. For auld lang syne, &c. An* surely you'll be your pint stowp, An' surely I'll be mine; An* we'll tak a right gude willy-wacht, For auld lang syne. Chorus. For auld lang syne, &c. (A Drum heard without). JEAN M'ALPINE enters in alarm. Jean. The red coats ! the red coats ! Enter Captain THORNTON. Capt T. You, Sir, I suppose, are Major Gal- braith, of the squadron of Lennox Militia ? and these are the two Highland Gentlemen whom I was appointed to meet in this place ? Galb. .You are right, Sir ; Captain Thornton, I believe Will you take some refreshment ? Capt. T. I thank you, none ; I am late, and desirous to make up time. I have orders to search for, and arrest two persons guilty of trea- sonable practices. Do these Gentlemen belong to your party ? Bailie. No, Sir travellers, Sir; lawful tra- vellers by sea and land. Capt. T. My instructions are, to place under arrest, an elderly, and a young person you answer the description. Bailie. Me ! take care what you say, Sir ; take care what you say ! It shall not be your red coat, nor your laced hat, that shall protect you, if you put any affront on me ! I'll convene you in enaction of scandal and false imprisonment. OR, AULD LANG SYNE ! 47 I'm a free Burgess, and a Magistrate j Nicol Jarvie is my name, so was my father's afore me. I'm a Bailie, be praised for the honour, and my father was a Deacon. Galb. True enough ; his father was a prick - ear'd cur, and fought against the King at Both- well Brigg. Bailie. My father paid what he ought, and what he bought, Major Galbraith since I know you, Major Galbraith and was an honester man than ever stood upon your clumsy shanks Major Galbraith. Capt. T. I have no time to attend to all this. And you, Sir, what may be your name ? Frank. Francis Osbaldistone. Capt. T. What ! a son of Sir Hildebrand ? Bailie. No, Sir ; son to a better man the great William Osbaldistone, Crane-Alley, Lon- don, as Mr. Owen has it. Capt. T. I am afraid, Sir, your name only in- creases the suspicions against you, and lays me under the necessity of demanding your papers. Frank. I have none to surrender. Capt. T. What is that now in your breast ? Frank. O ! to this you are welcome (Giving it) ; yet it may endanger I have done wrong (Aside). Capt. T. 'Tis confirmed ! here I find you in written communication with the outlawed robber, M'Gregor. Galb. Spies of Rob ! M'Stuart. Strap'em up to the next tree ! Bailie. Gently, kind Gentlemen, I beseech you there's no haste. Capt. T. How came you possess'd ,of this ? Frank. You will excuse my answering. Capt. T. Do you, Sir, know any thing of this ? 48 ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; Bailie. No, by my soul ! Capt. T. Gentlemen, you are waited for (Significantly to Galbraith, &c.) -I'll thank you to order two sentinels to the door. [Exeunt Galbraith, M'Stuart, &c. Bailie. Sentinels ! sentinels ! what Capt. T. I can hear no remonstrances the service I am on, gives me no time for idle dis- cussions. Come, Sir Bailie. O, very well, very well, Sir. You're welcome to a tune on your own fiddle, but if I don't make you dance to it before I've done, my name's not Jarvie ! Gude save us! Arrest a Bailie! a free Burgess a Magistrate! My Conscience ! [Exit, following Captain Thornton and Frank. SCENE IV. The Clachan of AberfoilThe Inn on the left- Two Sentinels parading before the Door A few miserable -looking, low-roofed Hovels in va- rious parts under the Craigs, which rise imme- diately behind them, interspersed with brush- wood, &c. The back of the Scene exhibits the distant Highland Country Part of a House conspicuous near thejront on the right. The Soldiers are reposing in groups their Arms piled at the upper end. Captain THORNTON enters from the Inn. Capt. T. Corporal, make the men fall in 7 these Gentlemen must be taken with us I cannot spare a man to guard them here. Is the Ser- jeant on the look-out ? OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 49 Corp. Yes, your Honour. Capt. T. Come, my lads, get under arms ! (The Men put their Provisions in their Knap- sacks, and fling on their Canteens). I cannot be mistaken these strangers must be the persons described by Rashlcigh Osbaldistone. Yet his own relative, one would think, might have been overlooked. No, no ; he is one that makes no exceptions! The self-interested wretch that would have first betrayed his country, and now his dearest friends, respects no tie of honour, kindred, or affection. Sentinels, bring out your prisoners ! (The Sentinels enter the Hut At the same instant a noise heard without, the Serjeant and two Men dragging forward Dougal, followed by the Inhabitants of the Fil- lage, consisting of Women and Children, with a very small proportion of young Boys and old Men, evidently irifirm, and clad in the wildest attire : they are eager for the safety of Dougal, and with difficulty sup- press their enmity to the Soldiers). Doug. Oigh ! Oigh ! Serj. Bring him along ! People. Oigh! Oigh! poor Dougal! Capt. T. Cease this howling, and let the man be heard. Serj. Wecanght this fellow lurking behind the Inn, Captain he confesses to have seen Rob Roy within half an hour. Capt. T. How many men had he with him, fellow, when you parted ? Doug. She cannot just be sure about that. Capt. T. Your life depends upon your answer a 50 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; How many rogues had that outlawed scoun- drel with him ? Doug. Not above half so many as there are here now. Capt. T. And what thieves' errand were you dispatched upon ? (Dougal looks about him, as beset with doubt and difficulty}. Speak, rascal, instantly ! I'll not give you time to hatch a lie what errand ? Doug. Just to see what your Honour and the red coats were doing at Aberfoil. (At this time Frank and the Bailie arrive in front}. Bailie. Mercy on us ! if they hav'n't gripp'd the poor creature Dougal. Captain, I'll put in bail, sufficient bail, for that Dougal creature. Capt. T. You know him then ! are interested for his safety ? Bailie. He did me a good turn when I was- sore beset, and I Capt. T. Mr. Jarvie, you will please to recol- lect, that for the present you likewise are a pri- soner. Bailie. I take you all to witness the Captain refuses sufficient bail ! the Dougal creature has a good action of wrongous imprisonment, and I'll see him righted ! Capt. T. Mr. Jarvie, unless you keep your opinions to yourself, I shall resort to unpleasant measures. Bailie. My Conscience ! {At this time Rob Roy, in his Highland Dress, but unarmed, appears in the back ground, and listens to the examination of Daagal). OR, AULD LANG SYNE ! 51 Capt. T. Now, my friend, let us understand each other You have confess'd yourself a spy, and should string up to the next tree but, come if you will lead ',ie and a small party to the place where you feft your master, you shall then go about your business, and I'll give you five guineas earnest to boot. Dong. Oigh ! Oigh ! she cannot do that she'd rather be hang'd ! Capt. T. Hang'd then you shall be ! Bailie. Hanged ! My Conscience I Capt. T. Corporal Cramp ! do you play Pro- vost Marshal Away with him! People. O hone ! O hone ! (Corporal and Serjeant seize Dougal). Doug. Stop ! stop ! I'll do his Honour's bid- ding. Bailie. You will ? then you deserve to be hanged Away with him, Corporal ! Away with him ! Capt. T. It's my belief, Sir, when your own turn arrives, you'll not be in so great a hurry. Bailie. Me ? mine ? I'm a Bailie ! my father was a Deacon ! would you hang a Magistrate ? O, my Conscience ! Doug. You'll not ask her to gang further than just to shew you where the M'Gregor is ? Capt. 7\ Not a step. Doug. And the five guineas ? Capt. T. Here they are ! Bailie. The Dougal creature's worse than I thought him ! a worldly and perfidious creature! My father, the Deacon, (rest be with him, honest man !) used to say, that gold slew more souls than the sword did bodies and it's true- its true ! H2 52 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; Capt. T. Mr. Osbaldistone, and you, Mr. Jar- vie, if loyal and peaceable subjects, will not re- gret being detained a few hours, when it is essen- tial to the King's service if otherwise, I need no excuse for acting according to my duty ("To Dougal) Now, observe, if you attempt to de- ceive me, you die by my hand ! Bailie. Lord save us ! (Here two Sentinels place themselves on each side the Bailie, ivho looks at them with mingled anger and dismay the same cere- mony is observed ivith Frank - Dougal leads the March, taking an opportunity to ex- change a glance of recognition and under- standing with Rob). Capt. T. March ! (Military Music, which dies away as the Party gradually disappear). ROB enters, and as it ceases, RASHLEIGH advances from behind the right hand Hut. Rob. Who'd have thought Dougal has so much sense under that ragged red poll of his. Rash. Did he act then by your direction ? Rob. Troth did he and well acted it was ! he'll lead the Saxon Captain up the Loch ; but not a red coat will come back to tell what they landed in. Rash. And their prisoners my Cousin, and the Bailie ? Rob. They'll be safe enough while Dougal's with them. Rash. Perhaps not. (Apart). Rob. Fetch my claymore and rifle, some of you! I must away. Rash. If Thornton has been fool enough to be OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 53 led into an ambuscade this opportunity shall not be lost ! Rob, My dirk, and claymore ! I must attack these buzzards in the rear. (A Boy runs into the Hut). Rash. A word, M'Gregor! you told me your whole force was disposed to watch the different parties sent to surprize you. Rob. I did! Rash. How then have you been able to pro- vide so suddenly, for this unexpected party of Thornton's ? Rob. Look around you ! Rash. Well ? Rob. Think you any but old men, women, ancl bairns, would stand idle when King James's cause, or M'Gregor's safety needed them ? ten determined men might keep the Pass of Loch- ard against a hundred and I sent every man forward, that had strength to wield a dirk or draw a trigger. Rash. Indeed ! Move on then ! f Rob looks towards the direction taken by the Soldiers the Boy returns from the Hut with his Dirk and Claymore, which are instantly snatcKdfrom him by Rashleigh)* Now! now! Galbraith! M'Stuart ! (The people shout Rob, seeing himself be- trayed, springs upon Rashleigh, grips his sword-arm, and wrenches the Dirk from him At the same instant, Galbraith, with three or four dismounted Troopers, enter \ and level at Rob he pauses -throws Rashleigh from him, and is darting off on the opposite side, when M' Stuart meets him in the same manner and Allan, with Infantry, Jills up ike l}a$k ground). 54 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; Rash. Now, M'Gregor, we meet as befits us, for the first time. Hob. But not the last ! Oh villain ! villain! villain ! Rash. I should better have deserved that re- proach, when, under the direction of an able tutor, I sought to introduce civil war into the bosom of a peaceful country ; but I have done my best to atone for my errors. Galbraith, let him be mounted on the same horse with the strongest trooper of your squadron, buckled in the same belt, and guarded on every side, 'till he's safe in the garrison. Rob. There's a day of reckoning at hand ! think on't! dream on't!- there's not a red M'Gregor in the country, but from this time for- ward marks you for a traitor's doom ; there's a day to come ! You have not yet subdued Rob Roy! Rash. Away with him ! FINALE. Highlanders and Soldiers. Soldiers \ Tram P> tram P> ' er moss aruj fell> Highlanders. McGregor's ) / j So&en. The Robber's j found > Highlanders. M'Gregor's 7 K^ ,^ Soldier,. The Traitor's r ound ' And wailing Clans shall hear his knell Whose battle cry, Was " win or die!" SOLO Katty. Guardian spirits of the brave, Freedom grant, the Chieftain save ! Full Chorus. Tramp, tramp, &c. / END OF ACT II. OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 55 ACT III. SCENE I. A romantic Pass, bordering the Loch On each side, precipitous rocks A track, winding along the water's edge, under the base of the Moun- tain, seen in the perspective. Captain THORNTON V Party march in FRANK, BAILIE JARVIE, DOUGAL, f?c. Capt. T. Halt ! front ! now, Sir, you wish to speak with me. Bailie. Yes, Captain, I crave that liberty ; and, for the sake of all concern'd, I'm sorry you did not grant it a full half hour gone by ; but its my sincere advice, for the sake of your friends in general, and myself in particular, that you make the best of your way back again to a place of safety ; if you do not, by the hand o' my body, there isn't one of us will go home to tell the tale. Capt. T. Make yourself easy, Sir. Bailie. Easy! I can't Sir; he'll have us all butcher'd (Apart). Capt. T. As you are friends of the Govern- ment, Gentlemen, you will be happy to learn, that it is impossible this gang of ruffians can escape the measures now taken to suppress them. Various strong parties from the garrison, secure the hills in different parts : three hundred High- landers are in possession of the upper, while Major Galbraith and his Troopers occupy the lower passes of this Country. 36 ROB ROY MACGREGORj Bailie. Ah ! that sounds all very well ; but ? in the first place, there's more brandy than brains in Major Galbraith ; in the next, I wouldn't have you place too much confidence in the Highland- ers. Hawks won't pick out hawks' eyes. They may quarrel among' themselves, and give each other a stab with a dirk, or a slash with a clay- more, now and then ; but take my word for't, they are sure to join in the long run, against all folks that wear breeches on their hinder ends, and have got purses in their pockets. Capt. T. (Suddenly turning to Dougal) The route you have led us is dangerous, and there- fore suspicious. Doug. Dougal didn't make the road ; if gen- tlemans would travel better ways, they should have staid at Glasgow. Bailie. That they should indeed ! Doug. Your Honour can't expect to take the red Gregarach without some danger. Bailie. The Dougal creature's right again. Capi. T. You dog, if you have deceived rne, I'll blow your brains out on the spot. Your cau- tion, Sir, shall not go unregarded ; but we must proceed. Bailie. Proceed! My Conscience ! there's something devilish hard in being obliged to risk one's life in a quarrel with which we have no con- cern. Frank. I sincerely grieve, that your kindness for me has led you into perils, in a cause which is now so hopeless ! Bailie. We may shake hands on't ! Your troubles will soon be over, and I shall slumber with my father, the Deacon. Capt. T. Now my lads, forward I OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 57 (Helen M'Gregor appears on the point of a projecting rock witk Claymore and Target, a Brace of Pistols in tier Belt^ and wearing a mans Bonnet and Tartan Plaid). Helen. Hold there -stand ! (Captain Thornton starts ; the Soldiers, who have made a step forward, instantly regain their position). Tell me what you seek in the country of the M'Gregor? Bailie. By the soul of my father, it's Rob's wife, Helen ! there'll be broken heads among us in three minutes. Helen. Answer me ! what is it you seek ? Capt. T. The outlaw rebel M'Gregor Camp- bell, Offer no vain resistance, arid assure your- self of kind treatment. We make no war on women. Helen. Ay, I am no stranger to your tender mercies ! Ye have left me neither name, nor fame ; my mother's bones will shrink in their grave when mine are laid beside them ! Ye have left me neither house nor hold blanket nor bed- ding cattle to feed, or flocks to clothe us you have taken from us all all! the very name of our ancestors you have taken from us, and now you come for our lives ! Capt. T. I seek no man's life, nor would I rashly lose my own. Bailie. Nor I, mine ! Capt. T. You have therefore nothing to fear ; but should there be any with you, hardy enough to offer unavailing resistance, their own bloods be on their own heads ! A hundred guineas for Rob Roy ! Helen. Fire ! Capt. T. Forward ! 58 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; -(The heads of the Highlanders appear above the Rocks A volley isjired, as Helen dis appears The first party of Soldiers, led on by a Serjeant, return it, and rush, forward The Bailie at the Jirst discharge starts forward in great alarm, and scrambles up a Rock Dougal at the same instant at- tacks Captain Thornton, drives him up the Pass, and then ascends the Rock to assist the Bailie, amidst a scattered and occasional Jire The Drum and the Bugle heard in- cessantiy As the tumult subsides in the dis- tance, Frank Osbaldistone advances}. Frank. The contest has terminated,. and I fear, fatally for the assailants ; but where is my poor friend ? I saw him in a situation of imminent danger, but I trust no random shot has confirmed his melancholy prophecy. Enter the BAILIE, greatly disordered t the skirts of his Coat torn off and ragged. Bailie. My Conscience ! Frank. Somewhat damaged, I perceive ; but I heartily rejoice the case is no worse. Bailie. Thank you, thank you ! the case is nothing to boast of $ they say, a friend sticks as close as a blister I wish I had found it so. (Putting himself to rights). When I came up to this cursed country forgive me for swear- ing! on no one's errand but yours, Mr. Os- baldistone, d'ye think it was fair, when my foot slipped, and I hung by the loins to the branch of a ragged thorn, to leave me dangling, like the sign of the Golden Fleece over the door of a Mercer's shop on Ludgate-Hill ? D'ye On, AULD LANG SYNE! 59 think it was kind, I say, to let me be shot at like a regimental target, set up for ball-practice, and never once try to help me down. Frank. My good Sir, recollect the impossibi- lity of my affording you relief, without assist- ance ? How were you able to extricate yourself? Bailie. Me extricate ! I should have hung there a twelvemonth, if it hadn't been for the Dougal creature ; he cut off the tails o' my coat, and clapped me on my legs again, as clean as if 1 had never been off them. Frank. And where is he now ? Bailie. Following your example, and taking good care of himself. He warned me to keep clear of that amiable lady we saw just now ; and troth he's right there again ; for Rob himself stands in awe of her, when her blood's up. Frank. Do you know her ? Bailie. A devilish deal too well ; but its long since we've met, and its odds if she'll remember me. (Two or three Highlanders rush fortvard, Dougal following). }st High. More Saxons ! whiz a brace o' ball thro' 'em. 2d High Three inches o' cold steel ! Doug. Hand, hand ! they're friends to the Gregarach Bailie. Yes ! I care not who knows it, I'm a McGregor 1 -We're both M'Gregors. (Helen, followed by her Party> advances dowjt the Pass, to a March). Helen. Englishmen, and without arms ! that's strange, where there is a McGregor to hunt and slay. Bailie. (Hesitating) I I am very happy ex- i2 60 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; ceeding happy to have this joyful opportunity '4 hem ! this joyful occasion of wishing my kins- man Robin's wife a- (She looks at him with great contempt). - a good morning! Helen. Is it so ? Bailie. You have forgotten me, Mrs. Helen Campbell ; but Helen. How ! Campbell ! my foot's upon my native heath, and my name is M'Gregor. Bailie. Mrs. M'Gregor, 1 beg pardon I would crave the liberty of a kinsman, to salute you. Helen. What fellow art thou, that dare claim kindred with our clan, yet neither wear its dress, or speak its language ? Who are you, that have the tongue and habit of the hound, yet seek to shelter with the deer ? Bailie, Why, my mother, Elspeth Macfarlane, was the wife of my father, Nicol Jarvie she was the daughter of Parline Macfarlane, and Maggy Macfarlane married Duncan M'Nab, who stoed in the fourth degree Helen. And doth the stream of rushing water acknowledge any relation with the portion that's withdrawn from it for the mean domestic use of those that dwell upon its banks? Bailie. Perhaps not; but when the summer's sun has dried the brook, it would fain have that portion back again. I know you hold us Glas- gow people, cheap ; but, lord help you, think what a figure I should cut with my poor bare thighs in a kilt, and gartered below knee my Conscience \ I have been serviceable to Rob as I am, and might be more so, if he'd leave his evil ways, and not disturb the King's peace. fielen. Yes, you, and such as you, would have OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 61 ns hewers of wood, and drawers of water. You'd have us find cattle for your banquets, and sub- jects for your laws to oppress, and trample on ; but now we are free free by the very act which left us neither house nor hearth, food or covering which has bereaved us of all all but vengeance ! Bailie. Don't speak of vengeance! Helen. I will speak on't. I will perform it I will carry on this day's work by a deed that shall break all bonds between M'Gregor and the Low- landers Here ! Allan, Dougal, bind these Sas- sanachs neck and heel, and throw them in the Highland Loch, to seek for their Highland kins- folk ! Bailie. My Conscience ! Lord help us ! Doug. To be sure, her pleasure should be done. Bailie. Nay, nay. Doug. But they are friends of the Chief, as I can testify, and came on his assurance of wel- come and safety. Helen. Dog! do you dispute ray commands! should I order you to tear out their hearts, and place them in each other's breasts, to see which there could best plot treason against M'Gregor, would you dispute my orders ? (Distant voices are heard singing the burthen of the Lament). Hark! Hark! what means that strain ? ( An emotion of alarm visible in the High- land Group Helen becomes more agi- tated as the sounds approach). Helen. Why is this ? why a Lament in the rnoment of victory ? ROB HOY MACGREGOR, Enter ROBERT, HAMISH, and a Party of High- lander s> with ALLASTEK the Minstrel. Robert, Hamish, w here's the M'Gregor ? where's your father ? (The young men intimate his Captivity). Ah! Prisoner! taken prisoner! then M'Gregor dies ! Cowards/ did I nurse you for this, that you should spare your blood on your father's ene- mies that you should see him prisoner, and come back to tell it ! (Suddenly to Frank) Your name is Osbaldistone ? Frank. It is, ffelen. Rashleigh ? Frank. No ; Francis. Helen That word has saved you. Frank. Francis is my cousin ; but, for what cause I am unable to divine, he is my bitterest enemy. Helen. I'll tell you the cause. You have un- consciously thwarted him in love, and in ambition. He robbed your father's house of Government papers, to aid a cause which he has this day de- serted, and by his treachery has my husband fallen. Dare you carry a message to these blood- hounds, from the wife of your friend ? Frank. I am ready to set out immediately. Bailie. So am I. Helen No, you must remain, I have further occasion for you. Bring forth the Saxon Cap- tain! Frank. You will be pleased to understand, that I came into this country on your husband's in-?,, vitation, and his assurance of aid in the reco- On, AULD LANG SYNEl 63 very of those papers you have just now men- tion'd ; and my companion, Mr. Jarvie, accom- panied me on the same errand. Bailie. And I wish Mr. Jarvie's boots had beeii full of boiling-water, when he drew them on for such a damnable purpose. Helen. Sons, you may read your father in what this young; man tells us, wise only when the bonnet's on his head, and the sword is in hi hand. He never exchanges the Tartan for the broad cloth, but he runs himself into the miser- able intrigues of the Lowlanders, and becomes again their agent, their tool, their slave! (Captain Thornton is led on). But enough of this. Now mark well my mes- sage If they injure a hair of the M'Gregor's head if they do not set him at liberty within the space of twelve hours, I will send them back their Saxon Captain, and this Glasgow Bailie, each bundled in a plaid, and chopped into as many pieces, as there are checks in the Tartan. Bailie. Nay, nay, I beseech you, send no such message. Capt. T. Tell the Commanding Officer to do his duty, Sir! If I have been deceived by these artful savages, I know how to die for my error, without disgracing the King I serve, or the coun- try that gave me birth. Bid him not waste a thought on me. I arn only sorry for the poor fellows who have fallen into such butcherly hands. Bailie. Whist! are you weary o' your life ? O, Mr. Osbaldistone ! you'll give my service, Bailie Nicol Jarvie's service, a Merchant and a Magis- trate o' Glasgow, and tell them there are some honest men here in great trouble, and like to 64 ROB ROY MACGIIEGOR; come to more; and the very best thing they can do for the good of all parties, is just to let Hob loose again, and make no more stir about it. Helen. Remember my injunctions ; for, as sure as that sun shall sink beneath the mountain, my words shall be fulfilled. If I wail, others shall waii with me; there's not a Lady in the Lennox, but shall cry the Coronach for them she will be loth to lose; there's not a Farmer but shall sing, Weel avva' over a burnt barn-yard and an empty byre; there's not a Laird shall lay his head on the pillow at night, with the assurance of being a live man in the morning. Conduct him on his way. (She signs to one of her People The Bailie takes leave of Frank, and he departs). ?Now, Allaster, the Lament! the Lament ! LAMENT. O hone a vie ! O hone a rie t Before the sun has sunk to rest, The turf will lie upon his breast. O hone a rie ! &c. The pride of all our line deplore, Brave M'GregoY is no more ! O hone a rie ! &c. (She sinks in grief upon the Rock in front The Highlanders droop their heads, and lean on their arms, while the Lament is sung at the close ) Rob. (Heard without). Gregarachl DOUGAL rushes in. Doug. Rob ! Rob Roy ! OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 65 ROB ROY follows, and is received in the arms of HELEN, with a wild and exulting shout from the Highland Party The Bailie exhilarated to the highest pitch of joy from the deepest despondency. Helen. M'Gregor ! husband ! life ! Bailie. But how ! how did you slip their clutches, Rob? Rob. Passing the ford of Avondow, Ewan of Briglands cut the belt that bound us, and I duck'd, and dived down the river, where not one trooper in a thousand would have dared follow me. Helen. And how fell you within their grasp ? Rob. By him, who has placed a brand where he swore to plant the olive Rashleigh OsbaldU stone. But were he the last and best of his name, may the fiend keep me, when next we meet, if this good blade and his heart's blood are not well acquainted. Bailie. Well, there are as many slips between the throat and the gallows, as there are between the cup and the lip I'm like a dead man restored to life ! Rob. Drink, lads, drink, and be blythe ! (Dougal passes about Horn Cups and Cans The Music strikes The Bailie shakes hands with Rob, who pledges him with cordiality The Group form themselves, and dance the Highland Fling during the Chorus The Bailie, enraptured at his escape from danger, joins the Dancers). CHORUS AND DANCE. Hoy's Wife of Aldivalluch, Ro>'s Wife of Aldivalloch, We can be, As blythe as she, Dancing now the Highland walloch ; K 66 ROB ROY MACGREGOR Drink and dance, and sing wi* glee, Joy can never mak us weary ; Rob is frae the sodger free, And Helen she has fand her dearie ! Roy's Wife, &c. SCENE II. Wild Scenery in the Neighbourhood of AberfoiL Enter FKANK OSBALDISTONE. Frank. I fear I have dismiss'd my guide too early. Every step I have taken since his depar- ture, renders my way to Aberfoil more intricate. The twilight darkens rapidly, and each succeed- ing moment the surrounding objects wear a dif- ferent feature, changeful as my fortunes. SONG FRANK. O ! life is like a summer flower, Blooming but to wither ; O love is like an April hour, Tears and smiles together. And hope is but a vapour light, The lover's worst deceiver 5 Before him now it dances bright, And now, 'tis gone for ever I O joy is but a passing ray, Lovers' hearts beguiling ; A gleam that cheers a winter's day, Just a moment smiling ; But tho' in hopeless dark despair, The thread of life may sever, Yet while it beats, dear maid I swear, My heart is thine for ever ! OB, AULD LANG SYNE! 67 Enter Sir FREDERICK VERNON and DIANA, who are muffled in Horsemen s Cloaks. Sir Fred. Soho ! Friend, whither go you ? Frank. To Aberfoil : Can you direct me ? Sir Fred. Turn the projecting rock on your left, and the village lies before you. Frank. I thank you ; in return, let me advise, if you travel northward, to wait till the passes are open there has been some disturbance in this neighbourhood. Sir Fred. We have heard so; the soldiers had the worst, had they not ? Frank. Yes ; but in another quarter, the Out- law, called Rob Roy, has been captured. Sir Fred. Know you not Rob Roy has again escaped ? Frank. Escaped ! I rejoice to hear it ! that circumstance will at once secure a friend of mine from danger, and prevent my being detained by a commission with which I was entrusted in his behalf. Sir Fred. Who are you ? what is your name ? Frank. My name can be of little consequence to an utter stranger. Diana. Mr. Francis Osbaldistone should not sing his favourite airs, when he wishes to remain concealed. Frank. Miss Vernon ! at such an* hour, in such a lawless country ! Sir Fred. Now, Diana, give your cousin his property, and waste no further time. Diana. But a moment, Sir; but one moment, to say farewell. Sir Fred. Remember, 'tis your last. Frank. Our last ! Diana. Yes, dear Frank ; there is a gulph be- lt 2 (58 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; tween us a gulph of absolute perdition-r-Where we go, you must not follow What we do, you must not share in. Take from my hand these eventful papers poor Scotland has lost her free- dom, but your father's credit will at least be restored. Frank. And is there no way in which I may be allowed to show my graritude ? Diana. Alas ! none ! adieu ! be happy ! SONG DIANA. Forlorn and broken-hearted, I weep my last adieu ! And sigh o'er joy departed, That time can ne'er renew. Farewell ! my love, I leave thee, For some far distant shore, Let no fond hope deceive thee, We part to meet no more ! Tho' grief may long oppress thee, Your love I'll ne'er resign ; My latest sigh shall bless thee, My last sad tear be thine ! Farewell ! my love, &c. \Exeunt separately. SCENE III. Mrs. M'ALPINE'S Hut. Bailie JARVIE discovered at the Table. Bailie. Well, after the fatigue it has been my lot to suffer this blessed day, a oup o'brandy does no harm. ]Vly cousin Rob is bringing up his family to an ill end: and as for my cousin Helen! My Conscience ! (drinks) Thank Heaven, I shall soon leave this doleful country. OR, AULD LANG SYNE] 69 Enter ROB ROY. Rob again ! why, the man's like a bogle, a ghost ! Rob. 'Twas business that made me follow you so quickly, Bailie, and business waits for no man there is the payment I promised you Never say a Highlander belied his word. Bailie. You're an honest man, Rob that is, you've a sort of honesty a kind of Rob, you're an honest rogue. Rob. Come, come, take your money, and your cup, and say no more about it. Bailie. Well, here's your health, and my cou- sin Helen's, and your two hopeful sons, of whom more anon (drinks). As to Helen, her reception of me this blessed day, was the north side of friendly, that I must say. Rob. Say nothing of her, but what is befitting a friend to say, and her husband to hear. Bailie. Well, well, we'll let that flea stick by the wa" ; but I must tell you, your sons are as ignorant as the very cattle you used to drive to market. Rob. And where was I to get them teachers ? Would you have me put on the College- gate of Glasgow, " Wanted a Tutor for the Children of Rob Roy, the Outlaw ?" Bailie. Why, not exactly ; but you might have taught them something. Rob. I have Hamish can bring down a black- cock on the wing, with a single bullet; and his brother drive a dirk thro' a two inch deal board. Bailie. So much the worse ; but I have been thinking, Hob, to take them 'prentices; (Rob starts angrily) and 1*11 give you back your two hundred pound, for the satisfaction. 70 ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; Bob. What! a hundred thousand devils! the sons of M'Gregor, weavers ! I'd sooner see every loom in Glasgow, beams, traddles, and shuttles, burnt first in hell fire ! Bailie. My Conscience ! well, you needn't grip your dirk, as tho' you were going to drive it through me : I am not a two-inch deal board. Rob. Give me your hand You mean well, but you press over hard on my temper. Consider what I have been, and what 1 am become ; above all, consider that which has forced me to become what I am. Enter FBANCIS OSBALDISTONE. Frank. Ah ! M'Gregor and Mr. Jarvie -both safe ! Rob.- Ay, and like to keep so the worst hour is past. Bailie. It has left behind it plenty of sore bones; but a man mustn't expect to carry the comforts of the Salt-market at his tail, when he comes visiting his Highland kinsfolk. Rob. {Aside to Frank) Your father is now in Glasgow send the packet to him, by Mr. Jarvie. Frank. My father ! how knew you this ? Rob. Dispatch your business, and follow me You shall see the moonlight on the mountain You shall hear Bailie. What? Rob. The night-bird scream ! will you listen to her bodings now the mist is on the brae, and the spirit of the Gregarach walks ! but I forget! you mean kindly Farewell, Cousin farewell (shakes hands with the Bailie, who is much affected). I would speak with you alone follow me towards the Loch. [Exi t, making a sign of dispatch to Frank. OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 71 Bailie. What did Rob say ? Frank. Something concerning these papers. Bailie. Ey ! Papers! why, by the son of my la- ther, Rob is an honest ! Stay! (Frank tears open thepacket). Here's Mr. Owen's list "Catch'em and Whjttington 706," delightful ! Pollock and Peelman 28 7" Exact " Grubb and Grinder" right to a fraction ! Lord save us. what's this ? * Will of Sir Hildebrand Osbai- distone, in favour of his nephew, Francis ? My Conscience ! Frank. Is it possible ? Bailie. True, as I'm a Bailie ! Frafik. This, then, was the cause of Rashleigh's unrelenting hatred. Bailie. No matter we've got the stuff, praise be blest ! We've got the stuff ! Frank. Mr. Jar vie, I entrust these documents to your care, as, henceforward, the sole agent of my Father's concerns in Scotland. Take some repose, and set forward early. Bailie. Sole agent! Mr. Osbaldi stone (bowing) I'll not affect to disclaim having done my best to deserve the favours of my friends in Crane- Alley, London; or, that the recompense will not be highly advantageous to Nicol Jarvie, Merchant and Magistrate, of the Salt-market in Glasgow, but, I trust, you'll say as little as need be, of our pranks here among the hills ; the Members of the Town Council mightn't think it creditable, for one of their body to fight with a red-hot poker, or to hang dangling like an old scarecrow, over a potatoe garden. Frank. Fear nothing, Sir, on that score. Your kindness deserves, and shall receive every expression of the most grateful sentiments; but 72 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; let me beg of you to lose no time in returning home. Bailie. That you may swear ; and the next time you catch me out o'hearing o' St. Mango's bells, may Rob Roy sleep with his ancestors, and I marry his widow! My Conscience ! [Exeunt on opposite sides. SCENE IV. Distant View of the Banks of the Loch. Enter RASHLEIGH and JOBSON, in great alarm. Rash. Am I ever to be pestered with these coward fears ? Job. For Heaven's sake, Sir ! if you kill me I must speak. Except our own people, we are en- tirely unsupported ; the Government forces are all withdrawn. Rash. Poh ! for that very reason we shall not be suspected on that very circumstance alone, we might build our surest hope. This ruffian will not now suppose it possible he is watched, and least of all by me. Did you overhear their con- ference in the hut ? Job. Partly. Rash. And you are sure my cousin is in posses- sion of the packet ? Job. Certain. Rash. Does he accompany that foolish Magis- trate to Glasgow ? Job. I think not : fearing to be surprized, I withdrew some paces from the hut, and crouched in the deepest shade presently I saw -(He looks round terrified) Rash. Saw who ? OR, AULD LANG SYNE ! 73 Job. (In a subdued tone) Rob Roy! In a few minutes Mr. Frank joined him, and they walked away hastily towards the Loch Rash. To meet Diana and her Father in the Cave. Well, let them meet I'll wait till M'Gre- gor and his Band depart, then spring upon, and crush them in the very nest where their ve- nom was engendered. Did you place Wingfield in the track, to prevent the retreat of Sir Fre- derick and the proud dame his daughter ? Job. I did, Sir, exactly as you directed, and all the rest are within call Hush ! hark ! (Dougal has suddenly appeared; he instantly falls flat, throwing at the same time his Plaid entirely over him). *As I live and breathe, I heard a step I Rash. The echo of your own footfall. Job. No, no ! as I'm an honest man that is, as I'm a sinner I beseech I implore you to quit this place. Rash. Never, till my purpose is accomplished. Death alone shall defeat it. Curses on the chance that brought him to Diana's presence, that ever brought him to my father's house! but I will not suffer singly ; the disappointment and misery they have inflicted upon me shall be shared by them, in all its bitterness Who's there ? Enter LANCIE WINGFIELD. Lancic. Word has passed, that the Highland- ers are preparing to move. Rash. Lose not a moment Remember, if there be lives sacrificed in the business we are upon, your evidence must justify the act, as necessary L 74 HOB ROY MACGREGOR; to the subju^ 6n of treason. Now, be resolute and be silent. [Exit Rashleigh, followed by Lancie and Jobson. Dougal looks after them from beneath his Plaid, rises cautiously and follows. SCENE V. The Cave, the mouth at the upper end opening to the Loch, and opposite Mountains. The Moon rising, illuminates the distant Scenery, and part of the mouth of the Cave. Enter ROB ROY and FRANK. Mob. Let me now speak of my own concerns : my kinsman said something of my boys, that sticks in my heart, and maddens in my brain ; 'twas truth he spoke, yet I dared not listen to it 'twas fair he offered, yet I spurned that offer from very pride. My poor bairns ! I'm vexed when I think they must lead their father's life. Frank. Is there no way of amending such a life, and thereby affording them an honourable chance of Rob. You speak like a boy ! Do you think the old gnarled oak can be twisted like the green sapling ? Think you I can forget being branded as an outlaw stigmatized as a traitor a price set upon my head, and my wife and family treated as the dam and cubs of a wolf? The very name which came to me from a long and noble line of martial ancestors, denounced as if it were a spell to conjure up the devil ! OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 75 Frank. Rely on it, the prostration of your name and family is considered b^ .ne English as a most cruel and arbitrary law. Rob. Still it is proscribed ; and they shall hear of my vengeance, that would scorn to listen to the story of my wrongs. They shall find the name of M'Gregor is a spell to raise the wild devil withal Ah ! God help me! I found deso- lation where I left plenty I looked east, west, north, and south, and saw neither hold nor hope, shed nor shelter, so I e'en pulled the bonnet o'er my brow, buckled the broad sword to my side, took to the mountain and the glen and became a broken man ! But why do I speak of this ? 'Tis of my children, of my poor bairns I have thought, and the thought will not leave me. Frank. Might they not, with some assistance, find an honourable resource in foreign service ? if such be your wish, depend on its being grati- fied. Rob. (Stretching one hand to Frank, and passing the other across his eye) I thank, I thank you I could not have believed that mortal man would again have seen a tear in M'Gregor's eye. We'll speak of this hereafter we'll talk of it to Helen bat I cannot well spare my boys yet the heather is on fire. Frank. Heather on fire 1 I do not under- stand. Rob. Rashleigh has set the torch let them that can prevent the blaze (March heard) Ah ! they come then all's well ! Frank. V comprehend (Seeing the approach of the Highlanders) - The clans are assembling, and the defection of Rashleigh has but hastened this long-expected insurrection. L2 76 ROB ROY MACGREGOR; (The M'Gregor Highlanders enter, Hamish and Robert directing their movements Helen confers with Rob Roy}. Rob. Have you seen Diana and Sir Frederick on their way ? (Apart). Helen. I have. Stranger, you came to our unhappy country when our bloods were chafed, and our hands were red excuse the rudeness that gave so rough a welcome, and lay it on the evil times, not upon us. Rob. Helen, our friend has spoken kindly, and proffer'd nobly our boys our children *- Helen. I understand ; but, no, no ; this is not the time ; besides, I, no no I wll not cannot part from them. Frank. Your separation is not required leave the country with them. Helen. Quit the land of my Sires ! never ! Wild as we live, and hopeless, the world has not a scene that could, console me for these rude rocks and glens, where the remembrance of our wrongs is ever sweeten'd by the recollection of our revenge. Frank. M'Gregor .? Rob. She says truly; 'twas a vain project We cannot follow them- cannot part with the last ties that render life endurable. Were I to lose sight of my native hills, my heart would sink, and my arm would shrink like fern i'the winter's frost. No, Helen, no the heather we have trod on while living, shall bloom over us when