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- 
 <c dian the only friend he hath in exiftence fent 
 <c him to be arrefted in the very fight of this friend, 
 " by bailiffs whom he cannot fatisfy ; for thou haft 
 <c aflured him of the means, where thou well know- 
 eft, he cannot obtain it, Thy love for the wo- 
 <c man, and thy kindnefs for the youth, is hypo- 
 
YES, OR NO? 7 
 
 * crify." Thy chara&er (hall be publifhed amongft 
 our brethren, vvhofe fe& thou haft difgraced by 
 fuch a flagrant outrage on juftice and humanity. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Oba. (Having liftentd in fonfter nation, ftands Jor a 
 moment irrefolute, then takes a Jew fteps after DRAB 
 flops, turns round and uttering the ejaculation, 
 " Hem" walks Jlowly off, contrary to the Exit of 
 DRAB, 
 
 SCENE II. PATTY SEAGRAVE infimple mourning, 
 is feen working at a Table, ; the appearance of the 
 Room clean but indicative of extreme diflre/s. 
 
 Pat. Heigho! How folitary and fad every 
 thing appears, J wifh William would return poor 
 brother his heart is full, and as heavy as mine 
 (a knock at the door) Oh, there he is at laft, (opens 
 the door 9 WILLIAM SEAGRAVE enters^ and drops into 
 a Chair exhaufted.) 
 
 Pat. (Leaning over him.) Dear William, you 
 have been out a long time. 
 
 Will. To no purpofe. 
 
 Pat. No will not Mr. Worldly pay the debt ? 
 (WiLLiAMyM*j his head.) What will become of 
 us? 
 
 Will. A prifon. 
 
 Pat. Can nothing be done ? 
 
 Will Nothing! ftarve ! 
 
 Pat. Nay, do not defpair. 
 
 Will What elfe is left us ? 
 
 Pat. I can work 
 
 Will. Inceffantly ! you have fupported yourfelf 
 and a fick brother feven weeks it cannot laft. 
 
 Pat, Oh, yes 
 
 Will. Impoffible! arrears of rent out-ftanding 
 debts the apothecary's bill (hides bis face.) 
 
YES, OR NO? 
 
 Pat. You went out very early brother, 1 fear 
 you are ill. 
 
 Will. Not very well. I have not tafted food to- 
 day. 
 
 Pat. Heaven! and there is no bread in the 
 houfe 
 
 Witt No bread ! and you you have toil'd fince 
 morning without refrefhment 
 
 Pat. I wifh'd for none. 
 
 Will. What's that ! Ha! it (hall, it muft be 
 fo. (a Recruiting Party heard without.) 
 
 Pat. Where are you going ? 
 
 Will. Heaven knows! ( half afide.) 
 
 Pat. What agitates you, let me 
 
 Will, No No I (hall return immediately. 
 'Tis the laft refource! Aftde and Exit.) 
 
 Pat. Poor fellow how pale he looks, and he 
 was once fo handfome : I am fure 'tis anxiety for 
 me and yet I try to appear happy on his account, 
 and fometimes fing his favourite ballad ; but it 
 founds more melancholy than it ufed. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 On Ella's cheek, the rofe was feen, - 
 The tint was pure, the hue ferene ; 
 Awhile it bloom'd in beauty rare, 
 But traniient was its dwelling there : 
 Bright was her eye of heavenly blue, 
 Her lips like rubies dip'd in dew, 
 And fweeteft melody there hung, 
 On the loft accents of her tongue. 
 
YES, OR NO? 9 
 
 But foon the ftorm began to low'r ; 
 It ftruck the tree that held the flower 
 Her lover died, fhe droop'd her head, 
 In forrow o'er his lowly bed : 
 And fading like her cheek's foft bloom, 
 Sunk like a lilly to the tomb; 
 Still will the tears, foft pity gave, 
 Refrefli the flowers that deck her grave. 
 
 SCENE lll.Outfide of the Angel Inn. 
 
 Enter Corporal BARREL, and Recruiting Parly, feve- 
 ral Countrymen with Cockades in their Hats. Drum 
 and Fife flaying the Air, Roaft Beef." 
 
 Corp. Huzza my boys! if thofe are not a fet 
 of as fine recruits as ever carried a mufket, my name 
 is not Barrel another fuch a day's work, will make 
 my Officer a Captain; and, if merit fliould meet it f s 
 reward, will turn me, a noify Corporal, into an Or- 
 derly Serjeant, in boys in with you. (As they 
 go into the Tap Enter WULIAM SEAQRAVE. 
 
 Will. Corporal-* 
 
 Corp. Hey! What do ye want ? Who are 
 ye? 
 
 Will. An Englifhman, have been a failor - 
 would be a foldier. (Will, /lands with his hands 
 ctafp'd, and eyes fixed on the ground ) 
 
 Corp. That's a brave fellow (,a/tde.) he looks 
 like a Frenchman, for all that he's as pale and 
 thin as foup-meagre ; I wonder what he lives 
 upon. 
 
 Will. (Abftratltdlyt) Dear Patty ! 
 Corp. Dear Patty! the devil ! 
 
 
 Will. This will be a temporary relief (he has 
 laboured inceflantly, 
 
 B 
 
10 YES, OR NO? 
 
 Corp. Well, friend, here are two gujneas. 
 
 Will. - For two months 
 
 Corp. Two months! 
 
 Will. 'Tis my turn now tho' we cannot find 
 the bond Old Worldly may ftili be induced to 
 pay the money. 
 
 Cot p. Pay the money ! Oh the Captain will 
 give you the bounty rnpney. 
 
 Will. He's rich. 
 
 Corp. Not very but then you'll have- 
 
 Will. A hundred pounds, it is nothing to him; 
 
 Corp. A hundred pounds ! 
 
 Will. 'Twould be to us every thing. 
 
 Corp. If you think of getting a hundred pounds, 
 friend, I fear you'll be difappdmted. 
 
 Will. I fear fo too. (to tHt Corporal) 
 
 Corp. Well, there's the 'lifting money and the 
 cockade, however.- 
 
 Will. (Again thoughtful) ^iouldlie ftill refufe, 1 
 muft write to my landlord 
 
 Corp. (Takes out his notebook.) Wftere born ? 
 
 Will, In London 
 
 Corp. Very well, (writes.) Where do you live r 
 
 Will. I have loft thediredion, but 
 
 Corp. Eh! 
 
 Will. I think 'tis in Gracechurch- Street. 
 
 Corp. Oh I did'nt know there was fuch a ilreet 
 in this town, (writes.) How tall ? 
 
 Will. Near the Monument 
 
 Corp. S'blood he's mad I muft meafure him 
 
 Will. By the yard, the number I think 
 
 Corp. How old? 
 
 Will. Forty-feven 
 
 Corp. (Looking at him in aftomjhment, and writing. } 
 Forty-feven impoflible 
 
 Will. Right exactly, and the name 
 
 Corp. (S ill writing.) Ay, the name ? 
 
 Obadiah Broadbrim. That will do 
 
YES, OR NO? U 
 
 Corp. Will it well, I've put it all down according 
 to orders ; but I'll be fliot if the captain can make it 
 out. 
 
 WM. When muft I appear? 
 
 Corp. At roll-call this evening. But Come, come 
 
 in, and have iome roaft beef and fome punch. 
 
 Were you ever found guilty of eating and drinking ? 
 
 Will. Never, while 1 had a fitter perilhing for want. 
 
 [Ext!: 
 
 Corp. What the devil can he mean periming for 
 want! Poor fellow, I am afraid his head's out of 
 order for he has fo bother'd me with his defcription, 
 and alarm'd me by his behaviour that rot me if I 
 know whether I ft and on my head or my heels. 
 Well, this recruiting's fine fun however fuch va- 
 riety I went laft night to fee the ftrolling players, 
 dear, dear, how they did get on, talking of all forts 
 of liquors 'till at laft I furely knew whether I waa 
 in a play-houfe or a wine-vault. 
 
 * SO NG. BARREL. 
 
 A play-houfe of liquor, 'tis found, 
 Reminds us, I've inftances twenty, 
 Some plays much in Spirits abound, 
 And then we have Mellow-Drams plenty, 
 A manager's Draft we all know, 
 When bufinefs runs dry is no thumper; 
 But mould all his houfe overflow, 
 He cries, dam'me to-night, I've a bumper. 
 
 A bumper, &c* 
 
 Many aftors are certainly rum, 
 And folks in the critical line, 
 Say comedians are given to mum, 
 And tragedians are given to whine* 
 
 * For this, and Obadiah Broadbrim's Song, id the Second 
 Act, I am indebted to tfce inimitable pen of George Cohnanj 
 
 ' 
 
YES, OR NO? 
 
 Then Juliet 'tis plain has her beer, 
 
 To the family vault e'er they've brought her s 
 
 Fair Ophelia alone 'tis we hear 
 
 Who poor creature had too much of Water. 
 
 Of water, &c. 
 
 King Lear in the midft of his court, 
 Inquires which way Burgundy went ; 
 And Richmond tho' juft come to Port, 
 Soon roufes King Dick from his lent -, 
 While Blackflrap Othello the (hock 
 Of jealoufy feels through his brain, 
 lago flicks clofe to his Hock, 
 And tips him a dofe of /ham-pain. 
 
 Thus a theatre waving dry facts, 
 
 Is a tavern for critic fpectators ; 
 
 And when they are flow 'twixt the ads, 
 
 The audience alas are the waiters. 
 
 Plays like wines are fome four and fome fweet* 
 
 They pleafe and difguft various throttles; 
 
 The plays that fucceed are call'd neat, 
 
 And damn'd pieces are all the cork'd bottles. [Exit, 
 
 SCENE. Room at an Inn Waiters without catting 
 (oming, &c. a confufwn of bells heard, three doors 
 leading to chambers with names written on them, 
 Lion, Star, Drum, Lieutenant FERVOR is feen 
 at the Table with fapers. 
 
 Ftn This will do, this will do, this will do none 
 of your hum-drum moping, melancholy country vil- 
 lages this, all fpirit, life, and buttle, nothing like a 
 populous market town to recruit in, bells ringing, 
 (fulls the bell violently.) colours flying, drums beating, 
 
YES, OR NO? 13 
 
 (waiter without ', 'coming Sir\) Waiters all attention, 
 by the bye, nothing I like fo much as civility, (waiter 
 cro/es the flage very quick.) Holloa, my fine fellow! 
 a word with you,* 
 
 Wait. Coming diredly Sir. [Exit Waiter. 
 
 Fer. Impudent rafcal ! Try again, (ring* the bell.) 
 I fhall get every information from the landlord he's 
 a civil man fee that by his face. 
 
 Enter Landlord, looking very angry, with a till of fare 
 in bis hand. 
 
 Oh Landlord, wilhM to fay much pleafed with 
 the apartment very clean and comfortable fuit 
 me exa&ly, (Looking round the room with nods of appro- 
 bation to the Landlord, afide.) nothing like flattery, 
 always anfwers, very good room indeed Landlord. 
 Land. Yes Sir, the gentlemen of the Excife always 
 dine in this roomwe expedt them ii* le(s than half 
 an hour, fo it you have done writing, Sir (going to 
 move the table, &c.) 
 
 Per. Stop can't you be quiet a moment. 
 Land. Impoffible Sir, there's company in every 
 room in the houfe. 
 
 Per. Houfe full! what's to become of me ? (bet's 
 ring.) 
 
 Land. (Hurrying.) Blefs my foul, I never was fo 
 hurried in my life. 
 
 Per. That's right, that's right, nothing like 
 buttle to keep people alive. But where am I to 
 ileep? 
 
 Land. In the Drum Sir, 
 
 Fer. A Drum ! what d'ye mean ? 
 
 Land. A fnug room over the coach office gate. 
 
 (pointing.) 
 
 Ftr. 'Sdeath, there'll be buftle enough there. 
 Coaches coming in all night. Eh ? 
 
14 YiES, OR NO? 
 
 Land, Yes, and the noife of the cattle all day 
 the market is juft under your window. 
 
 Per The devil! 
 
 Land. Yes, and to-morrow the affize begins Oh 
 you'll have plenty of buftle, Sir plenty, (rubbing 
 his hands.) 
 
 Fer. Too much of a good thing I fear, Eh 
 
 (Mrs. PENELOPE SNAP heard -without.) What's that? 
 an old woman ! Zounds, (how me into the Drum 
 quick ! quick ! [Exit FERVOR and Landlord* 
 
 Enter Mi/s PENELOPE SNAP, followed by Sir BARO- 
 METER OLD STYLE. Mrs. P. in a travelling drefs 
 very much difordered.~Before they enter Mrs, P. is 
 heard on the flairs. 
 
 <c The travellers room indeed I never met with fuch 
 treatment in my life, 'tis impoffible to put up with 
 it." they enter. 
 
 Sir B. Pho, -don't be vexed 'tis unlucky to be 
 fure ; but beins i a paffion, will not make one a jot 
 more comfortable. 
 
 Pen. Brother, brother, 'tis impoffible to keep one'? 
 temper, (in great anger.) 
 
 Sir B. (Afide.) And yet you have kept your's the 
 fame for the laft fifty years. (Mrs. P. appears fretful.) 
 What's the ufe of being angry , - it only puts one in a 
 fever, a fever puts one in the hands of the doftor, 
 he puts one to bed for three or four months, that's 
 worfe than being cramm'd in a ftage for three or four 
 hours. 
 
 Pen. Impoffible I dare fay I look as red as- 
 (Landlord comes out of the Drum> 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, 
 
 <c Before you have perufed many lines of this 
 epiftle, thou wilt be ftruck" 
 
 Per. (flapping Sir B* on the flioulder.) This is the 
 way, Sir Barometer, (pointing to the door.) 
 
 Sir B. Then its a damn'd bad way, Sir. What 
 d'ye mean ? 
 
 Ftr. Mifs Penelope has done me the honour to 
 accept the ufe of my apartment, and an invitation 
 to dinner, lam forry I cannot exprefs my feelings 
 with fufficient ftrength but if 
 
 Sir B. Sir, you exprefs your feelings ftroqger than 
 any man I ever knew in my life. 
 
 Fer. \ fear every accommodation in the houfe 
 is engaged could I enforce any other arguments 
 
 ***"*'* A^^*" 
 
 Sir B. Sir, I beg you'd not be at that trouble 
 thofe you have already made ufe of, are irrefiftible, 
 
YES OR NO? ia 
 
 ril attend you diieftly, Sir, (looks again at the 
 letter.) 
 
 Per. Oh! that unlucky letter (afdc.) 
 
 Sir B. " Friend, 
 
 " Before thou haft perufed many lines of 
 this epiftle, thou wilt be ftruck (flops, and looks 
 round, as if exptfting another attack) ftruck dumb 
 with anger and amazement." (Eh !) u but I be- 
 ieech thee, let not the violence of thy ward move 
 thee."- 
 
 Per. (Having walked about in agitation, fulls Sir B. 
 along fuddenly.) Come, Sir Barometer, dinner's on 
 table plenty of time to finifh your letter after. 
 
 Sir B. Well well, fome other time but I'm 
 very anxious 
 
 Per. So am I for my dinner. 
 
 Enter Waiter from the Drum, 
 
 Wait. Every thing is ready, Sir 
 
 Per. \Yhat, the lobfter ? 
 
 Wait. Yes, Sir, and the lady [Exit Wait. 
 
 Sir B. That's right I'll be content with the 
 lobfter you may take the lady; O, you'll find 
 her a delicate morfel. Hark'ye, Sir, there's an old 
 faying 
 
 Per. I know it " What's one man's meat, is 
 another man's poifon." 
 
 Sir B. No. That's not it. 
 
 Fer. Yes, it isHa! ha! ha! come along.- 
 
 SirB. No. 
 
 Fer. Yes. (talking together, FBfcvoJr^fa^m 
 
 Sir B.) Zounds, here's a buttle. [Exeunt. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST ACT* 
 
*0 YES OR NO? 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. The fign of the Angel Inn, Tap-Room, 
 
 Enter BROADBRIM. 
 
 Oba. Verily, my fpirit is much fatigued, and I 
 am weary with the length of the journey but the 
 conduct of Drab, my clerk, made difpatch and ex- 
 pedition indifpenfible. Now, fhall I wed the wo* 
 man called Penelope Snap, or not ? Verily, yea, for 
 me is wealthy, although flie be waxen in years, and 
 corpulent as a coufin German of the man called 
 Lambert. 
 
 SONG. BROADBRIM. 
 
 When wife man cleaveth to woman's fide, 
 He always choofeth a wealthy bride ; 
 Then fat as mud, or thin as deaih, 
 He taketh her and marrieth. 
 
 Foddle e di dol, &c 
 
 Oh what is love, that can't keep houfe ? 
 Or what's a fpoufe without a foufe? 
 A rofy cheek, it fadeth faft; 
 But England's three per Cents, will laft. 
 
 Foddle e di dol, &c 
 
YES OR NO? 
 
 They talk of dimples, and what not ; 
 A dimple boileth not a pot, 
 Then let me read in woman's face, 
 Some lines to Mr. Henry Hafe. 
 
 Foddle e di dol, &c. 
 
 Enter Poft-Boy with a Pormanttau. 
 
 Pofl B. Where will your worfhip pleafe to have 
 the portmantit taken ? 
 
 Oba. Depofit it any where, friend, fo it be not 
 defiled. (Poft Boy places it at the Tap door. ) 
 
 Pojl B. (dftde.) I hope the fpirit will move the 
 old buck to be generous. Driver, pleafe your wor- 
 fhip. ( taking off his Cap. ) 
 
 Oba. I had forgotten there is half-a-crown. 
 
 Pojl B. I hope your worfhip will tip a crown. 
 
 Oba. Tip a crown ! 
 
 Poft. B. It's a bad ftage, and I put 'err along. 
 
 Oba. Put 'em along ! verily, he fpcuketh the lan- 
 guage of the profane, which I comprehend not. 
 Friend, the money is fufficient, I will give thee no 
 more. 
 
 Poft B. Pray your Worfhip. 
 
 Corporal BARREL enters from the lap, ana 7 flops to read 
 the direction on. OB ADI AH BROADBRIM'S /Vf- 
 manteau. 
 
 Corp I'll foon be with you my lads~- muft brufli 
 the Captain's cloak. 
 
 Oba. (to Poft-Boy.) Thy appeal is in vain, my re- 
 folution is hVd. (Exit P oft- Boy muttering.) D d 
 ftiff-rump'd rafcal ! 
 
 Corp. (reading) " Obadiah Broadbrim, Grace- 
 church-ftreet."- -Oh it belongs to the recruit I 
 'lifted this morning. (Noifc of jolity in the Top.) 
 
2t YES OR NO? 
 
 Oba. I hear the founds of revelry and riot... 
 Friend (to Corp.) wilt thou convey my baggage to a 
 place of fafety for me ? 
 
 Corp. (Looking with aftonifhment at OBADIAH.} 
 Your baggage ? 
 
 Oba. Yea friend mine. I will reward thee. 
 
 Corp. (rubbing his eyes.) Well, I know the punch 
 has made me a little muzzy therefore, I am not 
 myfelf the fame man I was in the morning ; but, 
 may I never drink punch again, it my recruit there, 
 is not altered more than I am. 
 
 Oba. (Afide.) This man of war, I fhotild guefs 
 appertaineth unto the youth Charles Fervor. 
 
 Corp. (Afide.) And yet he looks more like forty- 
 feven than he did in the morning. Well, you'll 
 make a fine ftout foldier, and I am glad to fee 
 you tho* I did not expect you quite fo foon. 
 (fhakes OBA. violently by the hand.) 
 
 Oba. Nay, friend, I befeech thee verily, the 
 fumes of ilrong liquor hath drawn a veil over his 
 eyes, and he taketh me for one of his recruits he 
 deceiveth himfelf, the fault relletli not with me 
 and I will therefore benefit myfelf, and further my 
 defigns by the information which I may extract 
 from him, concerning the conduct of the youth 
 Charles Fervor. 
 
 Corp. (aside.) What a devililh good military hat 
 his will make when it is fmartly turn'd up, and a 
 cockade (tuck in it. 
 
 (Soldier from the Tap calls) Corporal rCorporal 
 Barrel make hafte we've juft attack'd t'other 
 bowl. (Sbouts of /augbter, &c.) 
 
 Corp. O ho have ye fo come along Broad- 
 brim we'll foon make a foldicr of you; here, 
 clap the Captain's cloak on, (Corp. throws it over 
 him) it's lucky I happen'd to have it, *there, 
 now for your hat. (offers to take it.) 
 
YES OR NO? 33 
 
 Oba. Pray, friend, let .my beaver remain (afide. ) 
 1 rejoice greatly at this diiguiie; my character, as 
 one of the faithful, will not be fcandalized. 
 
 Corp. Come along, my lad of wax. 
 
 Oba. Follows Corp. flouts of merriment. Gl a. flops 
 fuddenly, and walks back.} When I hear the (bouts 
 of drunkennefs, and debauchery I wax fearful. 
 
 Corp. Come along, my boy come along, Broad- 
 brim. 
 
 Oha. Hupi ! (fear/idly , aud drazving baik ) 
 
 SCENE II. Enter Mrs. P. SNA?, and Sir B. with 
 the Letter in his hand. 
 
 SirB. Thefeare the precious Qffefts of jnodern 
 education thele are your town morals thefe are 
 your fafhionable accomplishments. Oh! I (hall 
 break my heart. 
 
 Pen. i wi(h you'd read the letter firft. What can 
 poffibly be the matter? 
 
 SirB. Matter! -- Matter enough, Madarn 
 to think after all the care Obadiah took of him 
 when I expeded to find him pofleffed of every noble 
 feeling educated in every virtue, and free from 
 every vice to have him return'd to me with a cata- 
 logue of crimes -- 
 
 Pen. (impatient.) Will you read the letter or 
 not? 
 
 Sir B. Yes no yes - 1 have read it once, and 
 it has half kill'd me. - 
 
 Pen. Ah, well, read it again then, and I (hall be 
 fatisfied. 
 
 Sir B. What! there's an old faying 
 
 Pen. Give me patience, brother. 
 
 Sir. B. How can I I have none myfelfj lam 
 half frantic with rage, difappointment, and vexation, 
 
24 YES OR NO? 
 
 and you afk me for patience but I'll not be in a, 
 paffion, it's no ufe he's not worth it he's not 
 worth it [prepares the letter.} 
 
 Pen. Now then 
 
 Sir B. " Friend," there, there, read it your- 
 felf, read it yourfelf (Jhe takes the letter a/tde.) 
 
 Per. (without) D'ye hear, tell the recruits not to 
 make fuch an infernal buftle. 
 
 Wait. Yes, Sir. 
 
 Per. And tell Corporal Barrel, I want him 
 (Enters looking at papery and not feeing Sir Barometer. ) 
 Bravo! nothing like bulinefs to keep a man alive. 
 Sir Barometer has read the letter by this time it's 
 well I got into his good graces before he knew me. 
 1 dare fay old buckram has enlarged on fome of my 
 boyifh follies. 
 
 Sir B. (Afide.) Boyifh follies! fwindling and 
 fedudtion, boyifh follies. (loud.) Oh, you fcoun- 
 drel, ' 
 
 Fer. What you've read the letter ? 
 
 SirB' I have Sir 
 
 Per-. So I thought. 
 
 Pen. (( owing forward.) I don't believe a fy liable 
 
 Per. That's right. 
 
 Sir B. It's, all true. 
 
 Fer. That's wrong. 
 
 Sir B+ Did'nt you this inftant acknowledge it ? 
 
 Fer. No, 'till I know my accufation, why 
 iliould I plead guilty, 
 
 SirB. (Afide.} That's true well then, anfwer 
 me, in the firft place, havVt you feduced the 
 daughter of Old Seagrave of this very town? 
 
 Per. What ! my fwect, charming, innocent little 
 Fatty no, by heaven, I love her too well ! 
 
 Pen. I thought fo and Obadiah is an old crab 
 
 Sir B. Madam he's my friend. 
 
 Pen. Paa ! then there's a pair of ye. . 
 
 Sir B. But I'll alk Old Seagrave myfclf. 
 
- 
 
 YES, OR NO? 25 
 
 Per. He won't tell you a word about it . 
 
 Sir B. I'll go to him, Sir (threatening.) 
 
 Per. You had better ftay where ycu are, Sir. 
 
 Sir B. Why for what reafon ? 
 
 Per. He has been dead and buried thefe two 
 months. 
 
 Sir B. Dead ! poor fellow your conduft has 
 kill'd him. 
 
 Per. Perhaps fo I call'd in the doftor. 
 
 Pen. Well and what efFed? 
 
 Per. In a week he was incurable. 
 
 Pen. What did he prefcribe? 
 
 Per. Alteratives 
 
 Sir B. (Anxioujly.) And they fucceeded ? . 
 
 Per. Yes in a fortnight he was dead. 
 
 Sir B. And now, to complete your inquiry, you 
 mud go and diftrefs the poor girl for the rent, to 
 get her again in your power. 
 
 Per. Sir, thefe fufpicions are too cruel you aie 
 deceived, upon my honour. 
 
 Sir B. Honour ! you talk of honour ! that are 
 purfuecl by officers, from whom your only chance 
 ofefcaping is by diftreffing thofe you have already 
 made completely miferable. 
 
 Pen. Don't be in a paflion, brother its no ufe 
 I r ee very clearly that this is all a contrivance of 
 Bi D ilbrim's to injure your ward for you may re- 
 colled 'twas one of your wife plans to fign a will 
 with the reverfion in favour of this old viper. Oh, 
 I'm convinced he's a hypocrite. 
 
 Sir B. It cannot be, fure, it's impoflible my 
 friend Obadiah Broadbrim, I'll not believe it, 
 
 Enter Corporal BARREL, quite tip/y. - v 
 
 Corp. It's very true for all that, oh, he'll make 
 i excellent foldier, he's as upright as a ramrod. 
 
 D 
 
<i6 YES, Oft NO? 
 
 Pen. Why he's drunk 
 
 Corp. Not very he's a little cut to be fare, we 
 foon made a wet quaker of him. 
 
 Sir B What the devil does he mean ? 
 
 per. Why, Barrel, you're in liquor 
 
 Corp. Your honor's pardon the liquor's in the 
 Barrell. 
 
 Per. No wonder there has been fuch a noife you 
 have been making merry to fome tune. 
 
 Corp. Very pretty tune your honor I've been 
 giving 'em <c Britons ftrike home" that generally 
 makes fome noife. 
 
 Pen. He has been drinking fpirits 
 
 Corp. Yes, the King's health in punch, 'twas 
 enough to put fpirits in any old fpldier's heart but 
 water, cold water, your Ladyfhip, 'twould have been 
 the fame with fuch a toaft as that in it. 
 
 Fer. (Aftde.) Now I can't for the foul of me be 
 angry with him come here, fcoundrel. 
 
 Corp. (Turning fuddenly to Sir B.) Don't ye hear 
 the Captain call ? 
 
 Fer. Attention! ( Barrel ftarts round.) Give me the 
 orderly book, 'twas to you I fpoke. 
 
 Corp. 'Tisn't orderly to call any gemman a fcoun- 
 
 drel, Captain my name is not fcoundrel, 
 
 Scoundrel ? (muttering. ) .,< , 
 
 Per, (Looking at the book.) Um-^-um urn *J % a 
 Short, fix foot four, ha ! why what the devil's all 
 this Obadjah Broadbrim! of Gracechurch-Street! 
 London ! aged fortyrfeven ! meafur'd by the yard 1 
 and as tall as the Monument ! 
 
 Sir 3. What! Obadiah 
 
 Pen. A quaker a foldier! 
 
 Fer. S'death he has not enlifted-*-- - 
 
 Corp. Ye, but he has tho'-r-the fpirit moved 
 him (making figns of drinking.) 
 
 Fer. Confufion ! oh there'll be another buftle 
 go firrah and get fober. (to the Corporal.) 
 
YES, OR NO? 27 
 
 Corp. I can get fober as foon as any other gem* 
 man but fcoundrel's a word Captain, that but 
 it's all right, I know my duty but if any other man 
 had call'd me fcoundrel it's all right I know my 
 duty. [Exit Cerporal. 
 
 Pen, Now then for your vifit to the Seagraves; 
 from them you may hear the plain truth at once 
 and we (hall be able to make our efcape from this 
 angelic place. 
 
 Fer. My dear Sir here has been fome incompre- 
 henfible miftake fufpend your judgment for a 
 while and if I do not clear every thing up to your 
 fatisfadtion why then difcard me for ever as a 
 wretch, loft to every fentiment of honor, and dis- 
 gracing at once the character of a britHh foldier, and 
 an Englifh gentleman. [Exit. 
 
 Sir B, I'll not lofe a moment on their re- 
 port depends his future fortune. Should he be 
 guiltlefs, I fhall provide for him as my own fon if 
 the charge be true/ -O I fhall be in a monftrous 
 paffion. [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE III. WILLIAM SEAGRAVE and PATTY 
 <tif covered Tea things, fcsfa. on the Table. 
 
 Pat. Indeed, brother, I'll do any thing to pleafe 
 you, I'll fing a little ballad 1 learn't while you were 
 at fea you have never heard it. 
 
 Far o'er the fea when torn from you, 
 A nd my fond heart beat ftrong and true- 
 How ftrift, ali* * Ac veffel flew : 
 
 Front Marv, 
 
28 YES, OR NO? 
 
 " Refulgent funk the wearied fun, 
 
 " And o'er the glafly waters {hone ; 
 
 Tt Still it was dark, for thou wer't gone. 
 
 " BIcft Mary. 
 
 The filver wave fiow'd foft and clear, 
 And bright as if reflected there, 
 Was feen the fairefl of the fair. 
 
 My Mary. 
 
 " My throbbing heart heav'd many a figh, 
 " The tear drop gliften'd in my eye, 
 " And fancy told me thou wer't nigh. 
 
 " Dear Mary; 
 
 *' But foon thy lovely form had paft, 
 . ** And ocean with it's fwelling blaft, 
 " .DifpeU'd the dream too fweet to laft, 
 
 " Of Mary. 
 
 Will. Thanks, thanks, my dear fifter. Oh Woman, 
 virtuous and lovely even in misfortune's hour, 
 when all things earthly fail ftill can'ft thou footh 
 and charm us. 
 
 Pat. Ah, William, had you not enlifted, I fhould 
 ftill have been happy. 
 
 Will. What elfe could be done ? 
 
 Pat. Any thing, I would have ftarved, rather 
 than you fhould have gone for a foldier, I am fure 
 'twill break my heart. 
 
 Witt. Had Charles Fervor indeed known of our 
 diftrefs, -but alas, he's as poor as ourfelves. 
 
 Pat, He faid he expeSed leave to raife a com- 
 pany if fo, and he could get his guardian's confent, 
 we were to be married, J am fure I love him dearly, 
 he was fo kind to my poor father. 
 
 Will. I fhould rejoice to fee fuch a man the hus- 
 band of my sifter, but do not. my dear Patty, let 
 your mind dwell on an event fo uncertain. 
 
YES, OR NO? 39 
 
 Pat. I am fure Charles will never defer t me. 
 
 Will. From his paft behaviour, 'tis impoffible to 
 doubt the noblenefs of his nature, but remember, 
 he is intirely dependant on his guardian who, very 
 poflibly may objed to his alliance with one fo much 
 his inferior in fortune. 
 
 Enter FERVOR. 
 
 JFVr. Here they are, here they are at laft, 
 
 Will, and Pat. Charles! 
 
 Per. My charming, fweet, lovely Patty. Sea- 
 grave, my good fellow, your hand. I haven't felt a 
 moment of fuch real comfort fince we parted but 
 we won't talk of that, hang melancholy kick care 
 to the devil (ing to-day, laugh to-morrow oh I'm 
 fo happy but there's been a devil of a buftle. 
 
 Pat. Dear, Charles, what about? 
 
 Fer. I have fuch news 
 
 Will. What fort ? 
 
 Fer. All forts good, bad, and indifferent in 
 the fir ft place, you muft know, I'm a great fcoun- 
 
 Witt. That's not true. 
 
 Fer* So I fay next I've got promotion leave 
 to raife a company. 
 
 Will. That I rejoice at, what elfe? 
 
 Enter Sir BAROMETER Sir B. flops fuel denly on feeing 
 FERVOR, Sir B. behind, Itjlens, anal by aftion, 
 Jfiows his feelings at the fctne* 
 
 SirB Oh, there he is. 
 
 Fer. Oh plenty, plenty your tender-hearted 
 landlord and my deputy guardian has order'd me to 
 worry you for the rent, which if you do not pay, 
 you will inevitably be caged in a jail. 
 
 Pen. Ungenerous cruel man ! 
 
30 YES, OR NO? 
 
 Will. You know Charles, 'tis impoflible. 
 Sir B. (Behind, and Jhaking his flick at FERVOR* 
 Oh, you villain. 
 
 Fcr. To be Cure I do fo does Broadbrim ; but 
 unlefs I receive the money, I (hall be laid like you 
 in the black hole, My company will march to the 
 right about J fhall not be able to marry Patty, and 
 what the devil's that? (pointing to the cockade.) 
 
 Pat. Oh, Charles; 
 
 Will. Hard prefs'd by poverty, exhaufted by ill- 
 nels, and dilhearten'd by hopelcfs endeavours to ob- 
 tain a fubsiftance as the only means left of procuring 
 an immediate fupply J inlifted this morning to the 
 recruiting party now in town. 
 
 SirB. (Behind.) Oh! 
 
 Per. What my party, you a foldier ? 
 
 Pat. Your party Charles ! 
 
 Fer. Yes but it can't be his name is not down 
 in the roll. 
 
 Pat. Indeed it is true. 
 
 Fer. Impofiible what could induce fuch rafh- 
 nefs? 
 
 ( WILLIAM turns from him, and FER YOB, catches his 
 hand.) 
 
 Will. We had not a {hilling in the world. 
 
 Fer. No -no no money no food no and 
 Patty. William what the devil ails ye both a-a 
 -ant you fet care at defiance, and lau-a-a-augh at 
 misfortunes as I do (trying to laugh, but choaking with 
 txce/s of feeling) ha! ha! Come, come be alive. 
 William, s'ueath cheer up (recovering) come go with 
 me I'll find Sir Barometer tell him the plain 
 ftory ftate the facts produce the vouchers and 
 I Shouldn't be (urprifed now, if Patty and I were to 
 marry, raife a company, encreafe the Handing 
 army, efcape the pn(on t bilk the bailiffs, and bother 
 old Broadbrim, lo come along my boy.* 
 
YES OR NO? 
 
 SCENE IV. Enter Corporal BARREL and OB ADIAH 
 BROADBRIM, with the Cloak on him as before bis 
 Hat turnd up, with a Cockade in it both tipfyand 
 
 Corp. and Oba. Tollol, de rol, &c. 
 Corp. Sing, my boy, fing 
 
 DUET. 
 
 Oba. Of the mighty power of love, 
 Corp, Let's (ing like jovial fellows ; 
 Oba. While the fpirit thus can move 
 Corp. " Old Rofe and burn the bellows/' 
 Ota. I'll go wed Penelope, 
 
 And to my bofom take her ; 
 Corp. I never did his fellow fee, 
 
 O what an upright Quaker ! 
 Oba. Pad awhile ihe wedding joys, 
 
 Should their country need 'em, 
 
 All my little Quaker boys 
 
 Shall fight for England's freedom, 
 Corp. Then never let a jealous pet, 
 
 Our future friendfhip fever, 
 Oba. While both can fing, 
 Corp. c< Long live the King." 
 Oba. Verily aye for ever .'* 
 
 [ Ex it O B Ar ha If ft nging and f peaking . 
 
 Corp. There he goes there he goes ha ! ha ! ha! 
 now, that fellow's as drunk as a watchman it's 
 quite dreadful to think how men can give way to 
 fu-u-uch hor-horri-horrible habits. - However, 
 J (houldn't have wonder'd if I had been a little 
 tipfy myfelf for they made the laft bowl of punch 
 with gin, inftead of water. 
 
s> 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<TOu> 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, <z;^/ PETER BABBLE 
 on the ofpojite fide, in altercation. 
 
 Peter. This is affault and battery I'll bring an 
 adicn ! 
 
 Oliv. You can't efcape I'll make you repent 
 your villanies, 1 will, Bring an aclion, indeed ! 
 
 Sid. Why what's the matter here? 
 
 White* Oh ! here is Mr. Sidney. We found this 
 powder-puff, pleafe your honor, (tealing out of your 
 garden gate with a lady ; a poft chaife was waiting, 
 and 
 
 Peter. Well fuppofe it was the lady's my wife - 
 and if any one dare intermeddle Crim. Con. 
 bring an a&ion for that too. 
 
 Qliv. Didn't I hear you defire the lady to fay no- 
 thing that you were off and had all the particu- 
 lars ? 
 
 Peter. What then caution was neceffary^ Mifs 
 Fanny had a liking for me took a fancy to my figure 
 and accompliOiments and (o we agreed to be off 
 
 Fanny, (advancing.) Infolent ! you dare not utter 
 fuch a falfehood. 
 
 Peter. Ha ! Mifs Fanny here ! Then who, in the 
 of wedlock, is my wife ? 
 
 White Who indeed ! I'll fwear we faw a woman ; 
 (he is now waiting with rny daughter, illlen I'll foon 
 fee who (he is. [Exit. 
 
 Enter LA ROQUE dragging in BABBLE. 
 
 La Ro. Dare is your fon, Sair. [Exit. 
 
 Sid. My fon why, curfe me if it is'nt the per- 
 fum'er. 
 
 J. Bab. To think of my taking this lout for a wo- 
 man 1 (hall never be able to ihew my face again. 
 
Dramatic Repojttofy, 19, RuJJell-Strett^ Cotient-Gardeti, 
 J. BARKER refpeafully informs the Public,' 
 that he has a Colle&ion of PLAYS on Sale, which, 
 conficlered either as to Extent or Rarity, from the 
 Dawn of the Hiftrionic Art in England, to the pre- 
 {ent Day ; forming an Aflbrtment which he may, 
 without Hazard, pronounce Matchlefs ; part of 
 which were felefted from the Libraries of 
 
 SHELDON, ESQ. 
 
 MAJOR PEARSON 
 DR. WRIGHT 
 
 MR.DODD 
 
 MR. MACKLIN 
 
 MR. HENDERSON 
 DUKE OF BRIDGEWATER 
 DR. FARMER 
 G. STKEVENS, ESQ. 
 MR. FORSTER 
 
 MR. REED, & e . fefc. 
 
 In this Affemblage will be found the ORIGINAL 
 Editions of our moft valuable Writers; as* 
 
 SHAKESPEARE 
 JONSON 
 CHAPMAN ' 
 HEYWOOD 
 
 MIDDLETON 
 WEBSTER 
 BEAUM.&FLETCHER 
 MASSINGER 
 
 SHIRLEY 
 DAVENANT 
 GLAPTHORNE 
 KILLICREW, & 
 
 Subjoined to thefe, are the more modern AUTHORS, to which 
 every Article is added, as Toon as publiflied, 
 
 Lately publifhed, Price FIFTEEN SHILLINGS, 
 A New Edition, with very large Addition*, of 
 
 COMMENTS 
 
 ON THE 
 
 Several Editions of Shakefpeare's Plays, 
 
 Extended to thofe of MALONE and STBEVENS. 
 By the Right Hon. JOHN MONK MASON. 
 
 dlfo* A few Remaining Copiet of 
 MURPHY's WORKS, 7 vol. 
 MASSINGBR's WORKS, 4 vol. With Critical and Explana. 
 
 tory Notes, by Giffbrd 
 
 SHAKESPEARE'S WORKS, with Notes and liluftration* by 
 JOHNSON and STEIVENS, correflly printed from the Copy left 
 ifor publication by Mr. STEEVENS, and revifed and augmented 
 by ISAAC REED, with aGloftarial Index, elegantly printed on 
 a fupeifine Paper, 21 vol. 8vo. 
 PLATES (37) by Hail, Byrnt, Matzell, Cook, Griz*ion t &c. 
 
 printed to illullraie Bvo or izmo. Editions. 
 SHAKESPEARE. Various Editions. 
 O'KEEFE's WORKS, 4. vol. 
 
 VICTOR'S HISTORY of the THEATRES of London and 
 Dublin. . 
 
 ught^ or taken in Exchange. 
 
THE MILLER AND HIS MEN, 
 
 A MELO-DRAME, 
 IN TWO ACTS: 
 
 AS PERFORMED AT 
 
 THE THEATRE-ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN T , 
 ON THURSDAY, OCTOBER 21st, 1813. 
 
 BY J. POCOCK, ESQ. 
 
 AUTHOII OF " HIT OR MISS," U TWENT Y YEARS AGO a "&C. 
 
 THE ACTION ARRANGED KY MR. FARLEY. 
 
 THE OVERTURE AND MUSIC, ENTIRELY NEW, COMPOSED 
 BY MR. IJISHOP. 
 
 ?tontou : 
 PRINTED FOR C. CHAPPLE, 60, PALL MALL. 
 
 181J. 
 P nee TK-O 
 
Flint, Printer, Old Bailey, London* 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONAL 
 
 HfEN. 
 
 'Grindoff, -the Miller ..... . . . . MR. FARLEY. 
 
 Count Frederick Friberg MR. VINING. 
 
 Karl, his Servant . . MR. LISTON. 
 
 ,Lothair, a young Peasant .... . . . MR. ABBOTT. 
 
 Kelmar, an old Cottager . MR. CHAPMAN. 
 
 Kruitz, his Son MAST. GLADSTANES. 
 
 Riber J MR. JEFFERIE?. 
 
 Golotz \ Banditti < MR. KING. 
 
 Zingra ) C MR. SLADER. 
 
 WOMEN. 
 
 Claudine, Kelaiar's daughter Miss BOOTH. 
 
 Laurett, ditto Miss CAREW. 
 
 MRS. EGERTDN. 
 
 FILLER'S MEN. 
 
 Mr. Higman, Mr.Treby, Mr.Norris, Mr. Tinuey, Mr. Durussett. 
 Banditti Officers of Count Friberg, &c. &c. 
 
 SCENE The Banks of a River on the Borders of a Forest 
 
 n 
 

 
 
 
THE 
 
 MILLER AND HIS MEN. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 The Banks of a River-On the right a rocky Eminence, on 
 which is a Windmill at workCottnga in 'front. Sun-set. 
 Music as the Scene opens. The Millers Men are seen in 
 perspective, descending the eminencecross the River 
 in Boats, and land near the Cottage with their Sacks 
 Then sing the following Hound. 
 
 . HEN the wind blows, 
 
 When the mill o- oes , 
 Our hearts are all li^ht and merry; - 
 
 When the wi.ul drop., 
 
 When th mill stops, 
 We drink and sing, hey down deny. 
 
 [With the concluding sympfany the Millers depart, and M 
 Ktlmar enters from the Cottage. 
 
 
 hel. What ! more sacks, more ffrist to the mill . 
 Karly mid late the miller thrives;' lie thut was my 
 tenant is now my landlord: this hovel that OIKV 
 slieliorod !iim,is now the only (t\\ Hliiio-oflKiDk- 
 rupt broken-hearted KcJinur \\\ 11. ] strove mv 
 ost against misfortune, and thanks be to hoavei'i 
 have (alien respected even In- my eiu-mies _ 
 So Chuidnic,v.Mi are returned.-f^/rr 
 tuH, a, basket.] Where staid you so lo,,.- 
 
6 THE MILLER AND HIS MEN. {Act L 
 
 Cla. I was obliged to wait ere I could cross 
 the ferry there were other passengers. 
 
 KeL Amongst whom 1 suppose was one in 
 whose company time flew so fast .the sun had 
 set before you had observed it. 
 
 Cla. No, indeed, father,, since you desired me 
 not to meet Lothair and I told him what you 
 had desired I have never seen him but in the 
 cottage here, when you were present. 
 
 KeL You are a good girl a dutiful child, and 
 I believe you you never yet deceived me. 
 
 Cla. Nor ever will, dear father but 
 
 Kcl. But what? 
 
 Cla. I I find it very lonely passing the 
 borders of the forest without- without 
 
 KeL Without Lothair? 
 
 Cla. You know 'tis dangerous, father. 
 
 KeL Not half so dangerous as love subdue it, 
 child, in time. 
 
 Cla. But the robbers ! 
 
 KeL Robbers ! what then? *hey cannot injure 
 or thy father- Alas ! we have no more to 
 >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 <CI>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-<litty^-sing, sing when I 
 
" FOR ENGLAND, MO !" 3 
 
 was a younker I was reckoned the best singer and 
 the boldest man in all the province of Nor- 
 mandy. You have not my courage, 'tis true, 
 but you have my voice exactly ah, 'tis a sweet 
 pipe ! ^ 
 
 Lis. My husband Guillaurrre shall not find 
 mine a sweet pipe when he returns, I can tell 
 him a cold-hearted good-for-nothing creature. 
 
 Jer. Nay, nay, he may have found some diffi- 
 culty in giving the basket of provisions we sent 
 to the poor English prisoners here, and 
 
 Lis. Humph ! No doubt his attention to them 
 will be the excuse for his neglect of me. Come, 
 Michael, sing. 
 
 SONG MICHAEL. 
 
 Loud and chill was the blast, 
 
 And the bright snow fell fast, 
 On a maiden's fair bosom who travers'd the plain, 
 
 And oft a sad tear 
 
 On her cheek pale with fear, 
 Fell in sorrow for him who in battle was -slain . 
 
 ;u 
 
 " Down she sunk in despair, 
 
 " While her dark flowing hair 
 *' Wildly waved in the blast that swept over the v/oldj 
 
 " And more white than the snow 
 
 " Was her bosom of woe, 
 " And the heart in her bosom, alas:! was as cold." 
 
 III. 
 
 But the proud foe had fled, 
 
 Where her Henry had bled .9 
 Still with conquest and love had he thought on her charms : 
 
 Amid the wild storm 
 
 He beheld her fair form, 
 
 And he kiss'd her, and warm'd her to life in hi arms. 
 B 2 
 
" FOU ENGLAND, HO i 
 
 Well done, child, well done ; ah, you have 
 my voice exactly, so soft and so sweet (attempts 
 to sing, but is seized with a Jit of coughing a 
 knock at the door), Oh, there-he is at last open* 
 the door, boy,, mt/msq 
 
 Lis. (aside). I won't speak to him>- 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<Jaq. The initials E. A. were on his belt. 
 
 Mick. A belt ! Oh yes, you know he drop'd 
 it, father and I gave it to you. 
 
 (Here LISETTE catches MICHAEL aside 
 angrily). 
 
 GuiL You you did you did, Michael. 
 
 Com. Produce it 
 
FOR ENGLAND, HO!" U L 
 
 Guil. The stranger snatch'd it from me as he 
 fled. 
 
 Jaq. Fled ! 
 
 Guil. Ay but come, pray sit down, Sir, and 
 I'll inform you of the circumstance There, Sir, 
 there (they sit on a circular bench before the 
 /fa))!-rthe air is sharp, and this old house but ill 
 protects us Lisette, draw the curtains quick, 
 quick, and bring some wine. 
 
 / ALTIEJU at this instant appears on the stairs 
 descending, but is prevented by a signal 
 from LISETTE he starts back, and is seen 
 listening to the ensuing conversation). 
 
 Com. Come, your story 
 
 Guil. I obey you, Sir scarcely had I returned 
 from my duty at the prison, when a man, dress'd 
 as you describe, knock'd at my door, and was 
 admitted he had a soldier's mien, and you know 
 one's heart warms towards a comrade in distress 
 but he was hardly seated, when, fixing my eye 
 stedfastly upon him, I thought I remember'd 
 the features of the Count Altieri, who eluded 
 my vigilance when I kept guard over him, and 
 (Here GUILLAUME^O;^ his eyes earnestly on 
 AZ/TIEIU). 
 
 Jaq. Well ! 
 
 Guil. He seemed to read my thoughts he 
 suspected himself to be in danger, and, from the 
 agitation I betray'd he knew that to remain 
 here one instant longer might be fatal to him 
 and, spite, of all anxiety of all fatigue, he dart- 
 ed through that door ' 
 
 Jaq. (turning) What, that door? 
 
 Lis. (coming up at the instant, and interrupt- 
 ing the sight OPAQUES, Some wine, Sir ! 
 
 Guil. Ay, that door, and escaped the very 
 moment he would have been taken. 
 . \^ . c 4 
 
12 ' FOR ENGLAND, HO r 
 
 Com. Which way went he ? (rising.) 
 
 J(iq. Ay did you watch him ? 
 
 Guil. No! The circumstance so much dis- 
 turbed me, that, for a few moments I sparcely 
 knew h vv to proceed. 
 
 Com. He must be pursued instantly ; no doubt 
 Ine will take the road to Dieppe Guillaume fol- 
 low me You can identify his person; arid 
 should it be your fortune to secure him, J will 
 double the reward to you, which is offered by 
 the state for AUieri's apprehension- Qn 
 
 Guil. If it be possible 4o secure him, I will do 
 it not for your reward, but that my owp con* 
 scierice will afford me. 
 
 Jaq. Come, we loiter 
 
 [Eyeunt COM. and JAOFES, 
 
 Guil. Michael, my sword (the Idy brings it, and 
 his cap). Lisette, my denr Lisette, thou hast 
 done this well once again we have preserved 
 him Follow me to Dieppe instantly -he will 
 surely fly that way- so follow, for without thee, 
 I am but half myself. Farewell ! 
 
 [Music** Exeunt, 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 A Forest. 
 
 Enter ALTIERI. (Music). , 
 
 Alt. I have outstrip'd my pursuers, and in this 
 obscurity I may for a time repose my wearied 
 limbs in ssfety. O unfortunate Altieri, to what 
 a fate has man's oppression, and a just resent- 
 ment of it reduct d thee ! the gratitude of that 
 soldier, the noble-hearted Guillaurne, has twice 
 preserved me but now my only hope is to es- 
 cape to England. Tne chance is desperate. 
 
 starts at ike voices of his pursuers J . 
 
FOR ENGLAND, HO !" 13 
 
 Jaq. Follow, follow, comrades. He cannot 
 escape. " Follow, follow !" (Voices without). 
 
 Guil. (rushes in) We are close upon him I 
 saw him distinctly Altieri ! Altieri ! 'tis Guil- 
 laume calls. 
 
 Alt. My friend (advancing) my only friend. 
 
 Guil. You have no time for thanks plunge 
 into the deepest shade, and lie concealed till the 
 pursuit is past. 
 
 Jaq. " Pollow he entered this part of the 
 forest/' 
 
 Guil. Away ! to the left, to the left. 
 ^ALTIERI retires as JACIUES enters). 
 
 Jaq. Have you found him ? 
 
 Guil. No, he's too nimble for us. 
 
 Jaq. Too nimble ! why I thought I'm sure 
 I heard voices. 
 
 Guil. Yes, so did he your confounded howl- 
 ing gave him due notice of your approach. 
 
 Jag. Humph ! you may thank, yourself for it 
 he was safe in your custody once you should 
 have kept him so but you are so plaguy compas- 
 sionate. 
 
 Guil. How ! dare you suspect me ! 
 
 Jaq. I know you you are too full of this hu- 
 manity ; witness the English captives, the has* 
 ket of provision last night I observed it 'tis 
 contrary to order so look to yourself, or keep a 
 civil tongue. 
 
 Guil. Do you threaten, scoundrel ! hear me 
 those English, when in their power, have ever 
 treated us with kindness and compassion so 
 they treated me ; arid if ever I forget it, may I 
 become a wretch, mean and contemptible as thou 
 art. 
 
 Jaq. Ah ! that's all very fine but while you 
 preach, this fellow escapes. 
 
 Guil. Well, forward then--this way he went 
 
14 " FOR ENGLAND, HO!'* 
 
 but remember, that mercy to a brave Enemy is 
 the brightest laurel on the Conqueror's brow. 
 [Exeunt GUJLLAME looking back anxiously. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 The Quay at Dieppe An Hotel on the right of 
 the Stage Merchandize of various sorts lying 
 (it the back Shipping in the Harbour beyond. 
 
 . 
 GLEE. SEAMEN*, 
 
 I. 
 
 Our ship in port, our anchor cast, 
 
 The tempest- hush 'd, and calm the main.. 
 
 We little think of dangers past, " 
 Nor those that we may meet again ; 
 
 But v.hile the cheerful can goes round,, 
 
 In every draught is pleasure found, 
 
 For then we drink, and drink with glee, 
 
 The sailors' welcome home from sea,' 
 
 II. 
 
 Tho' hard our toil, our peril great, 
 Our hours of ease but short and fev/, 
 
 We never murmur at our fate, 
 
 But each fond moment past renew, 
 - ^And while the cheerful can, &c. 
 
 \Exeunt Sailors. 
 
 . 
 
 
 Manet BLOCK. 
 
 Enter TOM TOUGH. 
 
 Tom Yeo-ho, brother Block ! what all 6ur 
 Stowage heav'd ashore ? 
 
 Block. All right, messmate. 
 
 * Tn compquenctf of the length of the piece, this Glee was 
 omitted after the first night. 
 
" FOR ENGLAND, HO ! n 15 
 
 Tom. Ecod there's a rare cargo I reckon after 
 thecustom-househa' rummaged them a bit I shall 
 swing my hammock at old Madam Arunders 
 and all the French landlord's congees, and my 
 Lor Anglais, won't better him a pinch of oakum . 
 
 Block. Ah, I never thought to see a thorough- 
 bred seaman, like Tom Tough, sail in the wake 
 of such a cock-boat as Sir Francis Faddle. 
 
 Tom. Why look ye, Block I've seen some 
 service in my time, but I'm now little better than 
 a sheer hulk ; and when the old Admiral, Sir 
 Frank's father, broke from the moorings of life 
 
 Block. What, not alive ! 
 
 Tom. No more life in him, than one o'the 
 dead eyes o'the Dreadnought stifF as the main- 
 mast death has brought him to, arid he's safe 
 moor'd at last in smooth water, and a blessed 
 harbour. He was a kind heart, and as brave too, 
 as ever laid an enemy alongside, or cut a passage 
 thro' a boarding netting. 
 
 Block. Ah, you've weather'd some squalls to- 
 gether. 
 
 Tom. We have that ; and when the Admiral 
 struck his colours as we all must some time 
 or other (with reverence) I promised to stick by 
 his son as I had by him but I don't much un- 
 derstand the trim of this gingerbread son of his- 
 he whiffles and skims about like a dog- vane on the 
 weather-quarter in a cat's-paw while his father 
 was as steady as his flag at the fore in a seven- 
 knot breeze firm as the mast, and immoveable 
 as the colours it supported. But come, bear a 
 hand, or Sir Frank will heave in sight a'fore 
 we're clear'd for action. 
 
 [Exi' BLOCK. TOM turns up the Stage, and 
 at goods. 
 
 > 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 ! 
 
 <QO 
 
 Dear maid, though thy loss I deplore, 
 
 Should fate all our sorrows dispel, 
 I ne'er may be torn from you more. 
 Till in death we may sigh a farewell, 
 For ever ! for ever, dear maid ! 
 
 ' 
 
 Tom. What cheer, brother ! 
 
 Alt. A stranger, I would learn when the next 
 packet sails for England. 
 
 Tom. When the wind chops about. 
 
 Alt. Weather-bound too ! Stranger, I am faint 
 with hunger and with thirst. 
 
 Tom. What, banyan-day, may-hap ? you 
 shall mess with me, see, here's the victualling- 
 office I'll line your planks with some English 
 beef and a can of grog -.-that will fetch up your 
 lee- way with a wet sail, I warrant; so heave 
 a-head, my hearty. 
 
 Alt. We we shall not be interrupted ? 
 
"FOR ENGLAND, HOt' y 17 
 
 Tom. Interrupted ! by whom ? 
 Alt. I had forgotten this transport \ 
 Tom. Transport ! why, Lord help the man \ 
 there's not one in the harbour. Mo im seer a little 
 crazy, I take it. Come, it seerns to ha' been hard 
 a-weather with you for some time- Helms a-lee 
 about you are (A i/rtERr enters the Hotel). 
 Damme, he looks as if he'd been on short allow- 
 ance all his voyage poor devil ! [Exit* 
 
 Enter Captain LAUREL. 
 
 Lau. At length hostilitie^pgve ceased, and I 
 am again at liberty yet, ere * embark, I must 
 inquire if my sister be now at Dieppe 'twould 
 be unkind t'o leave France without seeing her, 
 Perhaps together we may hail the white cliffs of 
 Albion ; that happy land ! the guard of the weak,' 
 the support of the stranger. 
 
 SONG* LAUF.EL, 
 
 I. 
 
 Undaunted in peril, and foremost in danger j 
 
 Ever ready the rights of mankind to defend ; 
 The guard of the weak, and support of the stranger ,- 
 
 To oppression a foe, and to freedom a friend : 
 Amid the rude scenes of dismay and commotion, 
 
 Since Anarchy first her red banner unfurl'd, 
 Still 6r.ni as a rock in her own native ocean, 
 
 Stood England, the Anchor and Hope of the World. 
 
 II. 
 
 Sweetest spot on the earth ! where true honour combining 
 With justice and truth, gives a strength to the whole ; 
 
 Where the rose-bud of beauty wUh valour entwining, 
 Exalteth the heart, and enlargeth the soul. 
 
 *' This Song was written by W. J. Lake, Esq. 
 D 
 
IS FOR ENGLAND, HO!" 
 
 O, land'of my birth ! yet shall peace be thy portion, 
 Thy white sails in commerce again be unfurl'd ; 
 
 And still shalt thou stand, lovely rock in the ocean, 
 The Anchor of Europe, the Hope of the World ! 
 
 Enter Sir FRANCIS FADDLE*. 
 
 Fad. Custom-house officers, don't tell me 
 custom-house officers, indeed they broke open 
 all my trunks, ransack'd my whole wardrobe, put 
 every individual thing into utter confusion, and 
 me into a passion ! I shall not be able now, to 
 make myself irresfetible these two days such a 
 pack of savages I never Hey ! what, Laurel \ 
 is it possible ? 
 
 Lau. Frank ! 
 
 Fad. Whoj in the name of all that's wonder- 
 ful, would have thought of plumping upon you 
 the instant I set foot in France. 
 
 Lau. The fact is, I have just been liberated 
 the cessation of hostilities now allows rae to 
 return to England. 
 
 Fad. Ah ! that's the very reason I left Eng, 
 land : that going abroad in time of war is prodi- 
 giously inconvenient. 
 
 Lau. Your father, the Admiral, never found 
 it inconvenient, Sir Francis. 
 
 Fad. Oh, yes, he did very he absolutely 
 lost his life in the service of his country. 
 
 Lau. For which reason, I perceive, there is no 
 danger of your country losing you. 
 
 Fad. Oh, yes ; St. James's Street must endea- 
 vour to do without me for a short time not 
 that I see what /can possibly learn in France. 
 
 * It is necessary to remark, that Sir Francis, from affecta- 
 tion, has acquired a habit of pronouncing the r, like the letter y. 
 For instance : You rough rogue, he pronqunces, 
 yogue"- and, cr.tical crisis, " cytical c 
 
"FOR ENGLAND, HO!" ID 
 
 Lau. One lesson at all events you'll learn 
 how to seta just value on the blessings you enjoy 
 in your own country. 
 
 Fad. Ha! hum! Yes, dear me, that's very 
 prettily said. But, Captain Laurel, my motive 
 is matrimony, with an absolute rar'a avis an 
 article that will do us credit I protest, her tout 
 ensemble is so irresistibly fascinating, that I am 
 actually pining to death for her positively my 
 senses seem to be leaving me. 
 
 Lau. Upon my soul, I think so I'm perfectly 
 of your opinion, Sir Francis. But tell me, what 
 is the fair one's name, Faddle? 
 
 Fad. Faddle ! no ; the fair creature's name is 
 not Faddle yet, but it soon will Lady Faddle! 
 no, at present she is cal I'd Eliza Arundel. 
 
 Lau. Eliza Arundel ! my sister I then she is 
 still in France. (Aside). 
 
 Fad. You must know, she is the child of a 
 second marriage both father and mother are 
 defunct but I am told Eliza has a half-brother, 
 an Officer of some kind in the Navy. Now these 
 brothers are sometimes very inconvenient to us: 
 and as he has been in the thick of war's alarms, 
 I hope by this time that he's pop'd off. 
 
 Lau. He's much obliged by your good wishes. 
 
 Fad. Eliza resides at this place, with a stiff 
 frump of an aunt, Miss Eleanor Arundel. Tom 1 
 Tom Tough ! (Calling towards the Hotel). 
 
 Enter GUILLAUME and LISETTE. 
 
 - 
 
 Guil. Now, while Jaqnes attends the Com 
 mandant on a different route, if I can see Altieri, 
 you, Lisette, may conduct him to the cottage of 
 the vineyard 'twas well you followed me so 
 soon, jf 
 
 D 2 
 
% FOR ENGLAND, HOlf'n 
 
 Lau. Ah, Guillaumel my kind-hearted guard, 
 what brings you to Dieppe so suddenly ? 
 
 Guil. I am in search of a fugitive perhaps, Sir, 
 you may have seen him. (Retires with Laurel). 
 
 Fad. Tom, I say where the plague is Torrv?' 
 .stuffing himself with lobscouse, I protest. 
 
 Tom. Aye, aye, Sir ! (coming from the Hotel, 
 ALTIERI following,: retreats at Uie appearance of 
 strangers). 
 
 Fad. Take this billet-doux to Madmoiselle 
 Arundel, as they call her here- no blunder 
 now. 
 
 Tom. ToMad le E, Arundel what's the lady 
 mad ? 
 
 Fad. Mademoiselle^ 'tis directed to Eliza- 
 mind, no blunders Adieu, Laurel, adieu! Waiter,, 
 a. dressing-room immediately^ Waiter ! pGfcV, 
 Tom. Never sail'd in the packet service afore, 
 so I'll stow it away under hatches I'll give it a 
 birth a-board my bacco-box. 
 
 Lau. I have seen no man so dress'd here A 
 black cloak ?. \Q -. 
 
 Guil. And a broad hat and feather, that is the 
 description given in this .order for his apprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 Tom. Hey! how was he rigg'dj brother? over- 
 hawl that article again. L- * - 
 
 Guil. A dark cloak--- 
 
 Tom. So, so-^-a pirate has hung out the signal 
 of distress, and I have (Here ALTIERI appears 
 /at the ivindowjr. Well, they may sink him with- 
 out my help I have been on a lee-shore myself 
 before now, and damn me if I betray him. (Here 
 ALTJEKI appears at the window <> 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 <OD vjiij--'. , 
 
 Tom. They've been telegraphing a long while ; 
 
 iut neither vessel seems to know its number. 
 (She scolds) I thought how 'twould be ship 
 has miss'd stays, and run bump ashore 1 
 
 . This is a very awkward accident-r-quite a 
 ical crisis I presumed .it was Miss Arundel's 
 
 and that 
 
 Miss A. Well, Sir, am not I Miss Arundel? 
 Fad. Miss Eliza Arundel, I presumed. 
 Miss A. Miss Eliza ! 
 
 Tom. Ods bobs! I ha' given the letter to 
 the wrong woman. 
 
 Miss A. Miss Eliza ! but I'll restrain my 
 ^nger. Sir, this insult is not to be borne, after 
 
 F 3 
 
3$ <* FOR ENGLAND, HO 1" 
 
 your repeated tenders of affection to me ; after 
 your vows, your protestations, your letters. 
 
 Fad. Letters ! letters ! 
 
 Tom. So, now we shall go a voyage of disco- 
 very, and I shall be cast away on the rocks and 
 shoals of explanation. 
 
 Miss A, YeSj Sir (produces the Letter) Here, 
 :(to TOM) did you not deliver this to me from your 
 master ? 
 
 Tom. Please your ladyship's honour, I -I-r^I'm 
 swamp'd, split my topsails, 
 
 Fad. Speak, rascal -! 
 
 Tom. Rascal ! loo-key, Sir Frank, 'twas hazy 
 weather, and I lost my bearing the letter was 
 superscribed to Miss E. Arundel. This old wo- 
 man called herself Miss E. something, so I gave 
 it her. 
 
 Miss A. Old woman, indeed ! Enough! I have 
 deserv'd this for a condescension so derogatory 
 to the family of Arundel ; but I thank fortune 
 for my escape. 
 
 Fad. So do I for my escape, I protest. 
 
 Tom. Humbly axes your worship's pardon. 
 
 Miss A. Out of the way, porpuss ! Sir Fran- 
 cis Faddle, I leave you with the contempt you 
 merit; and be this your consolation, as it is 
 mine, my niece Eliza shall never be your wife, 
 unless she sacrifices half her fortune, which, with- 
 out my consent, she forfeits So fare you well, 
 Sir Francis Faddle. \_Exit. 
 
 Tom. Mercy on us ! Why she bounces like a 
 bomb-vessel : three such fire --ships as that would 
 set Portsmouth in a blaze. 
 
 Fad. I'll be reveng'd on that terrible old wo- 
 man. What an escape! Her husband faugh! 
 Tr-Jf this be her temper, she would certainly have 
 
FOR ENGLAND, HO !" . 37 
 
 clapt that family extinguisher, a monument, over 
 my unfortunate body, before the brightness of 
 our honeymoon had waxed' dim. Oh, you blun- 
 dering, rascally rapscallion ! [Exit. 
 
 "T^TTiflt of troubles at sea Pooh! give me 
 sea room enough, and a snug birth a-board, after 
 nil a man may live or die ashore, as it suits him, 
 but let Tom Tough live as he has always done, 
 and die as he hopes to do. like a true British 
 ' 
 
 SONG TOM TOUGH. 
 *< 
 
 When a boy, Harry Bluff left his friends and his home*, 
 And his dear native land, on the oceao to roam, 
 Like a sapling he sprung, he was fair to the view, 
 And \vas true British Oak, boys, when older he grew. 
 The' his body was weak, and his hands they were soft, 
 When the signal was heard, he the first went aloft j 
 And veterans all cried, he'll one day lead the van, 
 For tho' rated a boy, he'd the soul of a man, 
 And the heart of a true British Sailor ! 
 
 ji. 
 
 When in manhood promoted, and burning for fame, 
 Still in peace and in war, Harry Bluff was the same, 
 ^o true to his love, and in battle so brave, 
 fl?he myrtle and laurel entwine o'er his grave. 
 For his country he fell, when by victory crown'd, 
 Hi* dag shot away, -fell in tatters around, 
 Tt>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<rw 
 
 Guil. I hear the tread of feet distinctly the 
 house is watch'd. 
 
 Lent. Let us enter the house, and secure the 
 door. 
 
 Guil. I will (as GUILLAUME advances to the 
 do&r, JAQUES enters and interrupts them). Jaques ! 
 itftiq. Aye ! 
 
 Guil. What brought you hither ? 
 ' Jaq. My duty. I am an unwelcome visitor, 
 no doubt. 
 
 Guil. Right What seek you here ? 
 
 Jaq. The runaway described in this paper. 
 
 Lau. You must find him elsewhere. 
 
 Jaq. But. I'll search this house first. 
 
 (As JAQUES -turns to speak to LAUREL, Lr- 
 SETTE enters, and seeing hi?a, immediately 
 $jfoj&Or40tafc* on a signal from GUILLAUME). 
 Here is my authority. 
 
 //fiw f Sign'd by the Intcndant of Police. 
 
 Guil. Indeed! that's strange. 
 
 Jaq. Aye (puts up the paper). 
 
 Gull. Well, convince yourself he is not here. 
 
 Jaq. I will (looking round). I'll not take your 
 word for it, however. [Exit after LISETTE. 
 
 Guil. 'Tis unusual for the police to interfere- 
 but 'twas in vain to resist that order, Sir. Now 
 Lisette, if ever woman's cunning served you at a 
 pinch, this is your time, 
 *-.' 
 
 Enter LISETTE. 
 
 "V I "-iff I. 
 
 H^s safe, he's safe Ihe drop'd from the 
 
40 EpR ENGLAND, HO!" 
 
 window as Jaques entered the apartment ; and 
 lies concealed at the back of the house. 
 
 Gail. Then I live again ! 
 
 Lis. From the window I observ'djyour friends 
 approaching. 
 
 Lau. Listen! ''tis the signal. 
 
 (a whistle heard). 
 
 Enter TOM. 
 
 Tom. The boat's crew are at hand, your Honor. 
 
 Guil, Hark ! So far all is well Now Lisette, 
 while Jaques toils upon a fruitless search, bring 
 Altieri forth. 
 
 Lis. I will instantly. cm 
 
 Guil. But remember, not before you hear his 
 name pronounced aloud. JR 
 
 Lis. I'll remember. [Exit LISETTE. 
 
 Lau. Another interruption might* destroy us 
 I'll hasten forward, and prevent all difficulty. 
 
 [Exit LAUREL. 
 
 Jaq. (bursting from the house}. You are too 
 late. 
 
 Guil. For what ? 
 
 Jaq. Escape ! if you attempt further to con- 
 ceal him, I arrest you in his place Do you know 
 this belt ? (Producing the belt, which he has found 
 with the cloak in the house}. 
 
 Guil. Ah. fool ! I neglected to destroy it 
 f aside} What belt? 
 
 Jaq. This do you know the initials on the 
 clasp? 
 
 Guil. Ye yes what of them, E. A.? they 
 are those of my benefactress, Eliza Arundel. 
 
 Jaq. Indeed ! is this cloak too hers, with the 
 same initials the same clasp upon the collar ? 
 No, 'twas Enrico Altieri's. (Speaking very loud). 
 
FOR ENGLAND, HO !" 
 
 ^f^&i# > <*(**> 
 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 <armed men rusk forward). 
 Jaq. Se^ze that traitor, Guillaume, and the 
 long- sought fugitive, Count Altieri . 
 
 (They are surrounded LISETTE awe? ELIZA 
 
 enter from the House). 
 Lis. Hold ! hold 1 Spare my husband ! 
 Eliz. Oh, my Altieri ! 
 Alt. My -Eliza! 
 Jaq. Bear them away ! 
 
 Tom. Nay then, we must clear ship for action! 
 (Whistles). " FOR ENGLAND, HO !" 
 
 (Sailors rush on. led by Captain LAUREL, 
 
 and front the Soldiers). 
 Tom. I say, how do you like 'em ? 
 
 (Distant drums heard). 
 
42 " FOR ENGLAND, HO!" 
 
 Jag. The Commandant, and the Intendant 
 of Police ! now escape if you can. 
 
 Enter COMMANDANT, &c. &c. 
 
 Lis. Oh, Sir, spare him spare my husband ! 
 
 (Clinging about him). 
 
 Eliz. (On the opposite side) Turn not away 
 hear in pity hear me ! 
 
 (They, in the struggle, force the cloak from 
 
 the face of the COMMANDANT). 
 (Eliz. starting) Holstien ! then we are free. 
 
 Guil. Jag. &c. Holstien ! you the Baron Hol- 
 stien ? 
 
 Hoi. Aye, Holstien ! but a day of vengeance 
 may arrive. 
 
 Inten. of Pol Never to gratify your malice; 
 for know that a new trial has been granted to 
 Altieri ; and I am deputed to bring you, Baron 
 Holstien, before the Court. 
 
 Hoi. Well, lead on whatever be their sen- 
 tence, no punishment can equal the torture I 
 now feel at Altieri's triumph. [Exit, guarded. 
 
 Lau. Honest Guillaume, it shall be my first 
 care to purchase your discharge from the army, 
 that my sister still may have your loves and ser- 
 vice. 
 
 Guil. We'll follow her thro' the world ac- 
 cept our gratitude and thanks may all, like Guil- 
 laume and Lisette, find in their hearts the rich 
 reward we feel, for assisting the unfortunate- 
 and protecting those who have protected us. 
 
FOR ENGLAND, HO \ 
 
 JBROME enters, with Peasants. 
 FINALE. 
 
 All our cares are ended 
 Those we love are free, , 
 While by them befriended, 
 Happy must we be ! 
 
 Hail! Supreme protecting Power, 
 Hail! Triumphant joyous hour. 
 All our cares, &c. 
 
 END. 
 
 London i Printed by U. M'MiUafl, J 
 Kvir Street, Cffrent Garden. $ 
 
The following Works will be published In a few Days, 
 BY JOHN MILLER, 
 
 25, BOW-STREET, COVEMT-GARDEN. 
 
 . 
 
 1 
 I. 
 
 In One Volume, Duodecimo, 
 
 WEWITZER'S "SCHOOL FOR WITS;" 
 
 A new Jest Book ; containing, in addition to a selection of 
 the most celebrated Bon Mots, &c. &c. many that have never 
 appeared in print, by the most celebrated Wits of the Present 
 Day. The whole selected and arranged by Mr. R. WEWITZER, 
 of the Theatre-Royal, Drury-Lane. 
 
 II. 
 
 In One handsome Volume,, Crown Octavo, 
 
 POSTHUMOUS PARODIES; 
 
 Including (among many others) a Parody of Dryden's cele- 
 brated Ode on St. Cecilia's DayMilton's 1' Allegro Gold- 
 smith's Retaliation Shakspdare's Seven Ages Cowper's Alex- 
 ander Selkirk Cojlin's Ode on the Passions and Gray's Elegy 
 in a Country Church-Yard applied chiefly to Modern Charac- 
 ters and Events. 
 
 III. 
 
 ORGER'S TRANSLATION OF OVID'S 
 METAMORPHOSES. 
 
 No, XI. of a New Translation of the Metamorphoses of 
 Ovid, by Mr. THOMAS OKGER, with the original Latin Text. 
 This Work will be published Quarterly, and completed in 
 Fifteen Numbers. 
 
 
 

 
JOHN OF PARIS; 
 
 A COMIC OPERA, 
 
 IN TWO ACTS. 
 
 FIRST PERFORMED AT THE 
 
 THEATRE.ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN, 
 
 SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 12, 1814. 
 
 r 
 f 
 
 BY I. POCOCK, Esa. 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE MILLER AND HIS MEN, FOR. ENGLAND, HO ! 
 MIT OR MISS, &C. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR JOHN MILLER, 25, BOW-STREET, 
 COVENT-GARDEN; 
 
 By B. M'Milltn, Bow Street, Coreot Qaidn, 
 
 1814. 
 [Price Two Shillings.] 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THOSE who wish to know how much I am 
 indebted to the original of this Piece, or how 
 little the original is indebted to me, must peruse 
 the opera of "Jean de Paris," written by Mons. 
 Saint Just ; the Music of which is composed by 
 Boieldieu, and considered the most successful that 
 has been heard for some time on the French 
 stage. 
 
 The masterly manner in which my coadjutor, 
 Mr. Bishop, has executed the arduous tatk of 
 selecting and adapting those parts which were 
 thought most valuable, has been approved by the 
 auditors in a way that leaves me nothing to 
 praise. I have only to add my thanks. 
 
 To the Performers, it is my duty, and at the 
 same time my greatest pleasure, to acknowledge 
 how much I am indebted for their exertions in 
 the representation ; and take this opportunity of 
 requesting them individually and collectively to 
 accept my sincere thanks, for efforts, which have 
 rendered this trifle acceptable to the Public. 
 
 I. P. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 John of Paris, Mr. SINCLAIR. 
 
 Grand Chamberlain, Mr. TAYLOR. 
 
 Vincent, Mr. DURUSET. 
 
 Pedrigo Potts, Mr. LISTON. 
 
 Gregory, a Waiter, Mr. TREBY. 
 
 Philip, ditto, Mr. TINNEY. 
 
 Princess of Navarre, Miss STEVENS. 
 
 Rosa, ... Miss- MATTHEWS, 
 
 Suite of John of Paris Suite of the Princess 
 
 Suite of the Chamberlain Attendants Waiters 
 
 Villagers^ Sfc. 
 
 SCENE An Inn on the Road from Navarre to Paris. 
 
JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 Ringing ofBel"^ &c. denoting the confusion of an 
 
 Inn. 
 
 PHILIP and GREGORY discovered, directing Wait- 
 ers and Female Servants, who are busily em- 
 ployed cleaning and removing Furniture. 
 
 CHORUS, &c. ROSA, PHILIP, and Attendants. 
 
 Chorus. Now prepare, 
 
 The guests are near, 
 
 To your work be steady ; 
 Now prepare, 
 Phil. They'll soon be liere, 
 
 We must all be ready. 
 
 Now attend: no delay: 
 
 We attend, we obey ; 
 
 Oh, happy, happy day ! &c. 
 
 Enter ROSA. 
 
 Rosa. Did you not say this lady fair, 
 This noble dame, 
 In birth and fame, 
 For whose reception we prepare, 
 Was call'd the Princess of Navarre : 
 
$ JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 Phil. - {O \ The very samev 
 
 Qf ;Tbat is her name ; ^ V 6ff UO'( pflfcl 
 It is the Princess of Nuvarre.^^ JO *| ] 
 
 Chorus. It is the Princess of Navarre, 
 
 And she whose matchless beauty's praise, 
 
 rr\ i ' 11 ii i i i 
 
 I nns rues thro every la ml, renown a , 
 By virtue's softest spirit sways, 
 
 And firm by love our duty's bound. 
 . 
 
 Phtl. My words believe isnnib arfo 
 
 You'll now receive 
 
 rr\ i i? T7" * 
 
 1 he sister of vour King. 
 
 *> 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, 
 <c To win the sweet smile that bewitch ingly plays 
 
 " On the lip of his charmer dear ; 
 " Through dangers he'll toil to obtain the rich prize, 
 " Of one ravishing glance, from her love-beaming eyes, 
 
 a Or that gem of the soul a Tear ! 
 
 " Though the fondest of lovers, he often may prove 
 u A culprit in all the small treasons of love, 
 
 u To his bosom she only is dear ; 
 
 " From that bosom indignant he'd tear forth his heart, 
 u 'Ere sec from those eyelids in agony start, 
 
 " That bright gem of the soul a Tear!" 
 
 o 
 
 Vin. (Entering.) Ha ! ha ! poor Mr. Potts. 
 
 John. This new system of travelling seems to 
 amuse you, Vincent. 
 
 F'in. Its novelty cannot but make it agreeable 
 to me, Sir ; but if you knew half the disturbance 
 it has given Mr. Potts, you would pity him. 
 
 John. He will soon be released from all per- 
 plexity : the whole of the accommodations being 
 in my possession, will give me an opportunity 
 of obliging the Princess, in a manner that must 
 lead to an introduction ; and the simple name I 
 now bear will create no suspicion. 
 
 Vin. But with the accompaniment of horses, 
 carriages, and attendants, it may afford matter of 
 surprise they have amazed Mr. Potts more than 
 once ; he'll not soon forget John of Paris. 
 
 John. Let that rest. Be assured this disguise 
 is not adopted from idle motives. The laurels I 
 have acquired, and the rank I hold, shall never be 
 tarnish'd by an act unworthy of a true and faithful 
 Knight. 
 
20 JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 DUETT. JOHN and VINCENT. 
 
 diirc M the dangers of & tor ^ 
 
 Bend lowly at beauty's throne, 
 And live renown'd in story, 
 
 Of knighthood the flow'r and crown. 
 
 John. Clf >, ,,, , 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 <o alarm the heart of youth. 
 Vain foolish fears! Oh do but see, 
 
 When fondness carves the votive rhyme 
 On the soft bark of some young tree, 
 
 Still stronger grow the lines with time ! 
 And thus pure love's first image grows, 
 With life expands, till life shall close* 
 
 Enter CHAMBERLAIN. 
 
 Cham. By the honour of a Chamberlain, this 
 John of Paris has corrupted the whole house: 
 His impudence is infectious it spreads from 
 master to man, and subverts all order and autho- 
 rity. The landlord too, that rascal Potts, treats 
 me with as little respect as he would a travelling 
 tinker. 
 
 Prm. What now, Chamberlain ? you seem 
 angry. 
 
 Cham. Madam your Highness, (lowing) with 
 all duty and consideration, I beseech you, let me 
 assert your right, and my authority. 
 
 Prm. In what manner? 
 
 Cham. By immediately setting the landlord in 
 the stocks, and kicking this purse-proud citizen 
 out of the house. 
 
 Prm. Nay, I have no right, or you authority, 
 
JOHN OF PARIS. 29 
 
 for an act so violent ; besides, this man's eccen- 
 tricity amuses me, and I would willingly see the 
 end on't. 
 
 Cham. So would I with all my soul, but he 
 proceeds from one outrage to another with such 
 amazing sang froid, that I am utterly confound- 
 ed ; his extraordinary wealth too, has so com- 
 pletely won the affections of Mr. Potts, that un- 
 less I exert my privilege 
 
 Prin. Exert your patience, Chamberlain. 
 
 Cham. I haven't a grain left I verily believe 
 Mr. John has taken possession of that. Wouldyou 
 believe it, Madam, not content with your having 
 accepted an apartment in your own house, he 
 just now ordered me to bring your Highness an 
 invitation to \our own dinner. 
 
 Prin. He is very considerate. 
 
 Cham. Very, is he not, Madam ? 
 
 Prin. I am really obliged to him. 
 
 Cham. Obliged ! can you be serious ? Will 
 you then encourage this man ? 
 
 Prin. All men ought to be encouraged, who 
 practise politeness and attention to a female. 
 
 Cham. Would you have me then permit him ? - 
 
 Prin. Certainly present my thanks torjohn 
 of Paris, and say I accept his invitation. Poor 
 Chamberlain this will drive him distracted. 
 
 \_Exif Princess. 
 
 Cham. I'm petrified ! a Princess dine with a 
 mechanic ! Oh monstrous degradation this le- 
 velling system will extend its influence to me, 
 and I shall soon be considered by the household, 
 as of little more value than I consider this plague, 
 Mr. John. 
 
30 'JOHN OF PARIS, 
 
 SONG. CHAMBERLAIN. 
 
 My anger, my anger will choke me, 
 If thus they combine to provoke me ; 
 
 To worry and vex, 
 
 Disturb and perplex, 
 
 My orders refuse, 
 
 My person abuse, 
 
 And all of it 's done 
 
 By this plague, Mr. John; 
 Ob, my anger, &c. 
 
 The Princess herself condescends too, 
 A mechanic to class with her friends too ; 
 To dinner sits down 
 With a knave and a clown, 
 And bids me be civil, 
 (Oh Death and the Devil) ! 
 And all of it's done 
 By this plague, Mr. John. 
 Oh, my anger, &c. 
 
 Is it thus that a Chamberlain's treated ? 
 By a Maitre d'Hotei to be cheated : 
 
 The vilest neglect, 
 
 No sort of respect, 
 
 Still heaping disgrace, 
 
 He laughs in my face; 
 
 And all of it *s done 
 
 By this plague, Mr. John. 
 Oh, my anger, &c. 
 
 Enter VINCENT, speaking as he comes on. 
 
 Fin. Let the dinner be served immediately. 
 
 Cham. So this is the worthy right-hand of Mr. 
 John of Paris his foreman, I suppose, if the 
 truth was known well, Mr. Mr. 
 
 Fin. Vincent that's my name, old gentleman. 
 
JOHN OF PARIS. 81 
 
 Cham. Well, young gentleman; the Princess 
 will in her great condescension accept your Mas- 
 ter's invitation. 
 
 Fin. That of course. Her condescension has 
 no remedy ; better dine with a Citizen than not 
 dine at all. 
 
 Cham. Since^she will submit to the indignity, 
 I must instruct you in the etiquette to be observed 
 on this occasion In the first place, your Master 
 must wait respectfully behind the chair of the 
 Princess, and endeavour 
 
 Fin. Wait behind her chair! you mistake. 
 When John of Paris invites company, he always 
 takes the head of his own table. 
 
 Cham. No, no, that must not be. I perceive 
 he understands nothing of ceremony. 
 
 Fin. Oh, yes he does. He will place the 
 Princess on his right hand me he will place on 
 his left 
 
 Cham. You ! you sit at table with royalty. 
 Have a care, Sir! the Princess is affable, too much 
 so 
 
 Fin. Not a bit. 
 
 Cham. But Mr. John may read in her looks 
 
 Fin. He has; and finds that her beauty is alone 
 surpassed by the gentleness of her demeanour. 
 
 Cham. I'm glad to hear he feels such admiration. 
 
 Fin. His admiration's now combined with love. 
 
 Cham. Love! love! Is the man crazy; does 
 he know what he's about ? 
 
 Fin. He's about to propose himself as her hu,s- 
 band : first throw himself at her feet, and then 
 into her arms. 
 
 Cham. Plagues and torments ! is he aware of 
 the consequence of such an act ? 
 
 Fin. Perfectly the usual consequence of ma- 
 trimony Great expense, much anxiety, many 
 quarrels, a little love, and a large family of children. 
 
32 JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 Cham. Why, the man's desperate. 
 
 Vin. Most men are who take a wife. 
 
 Cham. Wife, wife! Oh the world's at an end ! 
 
 Enter PEDRIGO, in a gaudy dress. 
 
 Fed. The world at an end nonsense, only 
 just began, I nevec lived till to day. Here's 
 sport, here's fun alive ! a band of music and a 
 dance. 
 
 Cham. A dance ! a dinner you mean. 
 
 Fed. No, I don't. 
 
 Cham. Dance the devil ! who's to pay the 
 piper ? 
 
 Ped. John of Paris. 
 
 Cham. Who gave you orders ? 
 
 Ped. John of Paris. 
 
 Cham. Who has turn'd your brain, blockhead ? 
 
 Ped. John of Paris. I'm wild with joy ! he's 
 something like a customer look here, here's a 
 figure, you don't see the like every day. He doesn't 
 leave modest merit to pine in obscurity, like some 
 folks. Talk of a Chamberlain, pish ! a fellow of 
 yesterday, a nonentity a body without a soul. 
 
 Cham. A what, Sirrah ? 
 
 Ped. A man of straw ! a thing of no use to 
 any but the owner ! give me John of Paris, none 
 of your whip syllabubs he, he's substantial a 
 good man. He's got it here, and I've got it here 
 look ! (slapping his pockets , and producing mo- 
 ney.) Ha ! ha ! 
 
 Cham. Oh, I shall lose my senses among 'em. 
 
 Ped. Ah, Mr. John's man, how are you, Mr. 
 John's man ? you see how it is they become me, 
 don't they ? I say, I wish you'd teach me a little 
 of your high talk, such as you palaver'd me with 
 this morning, you know. Fine folks are nothing 
 without fine words. 
 

 JOHN OF PARIS. 33 
 
 'Fin. You seem to require little instruction ; 
 but let me tell you 
 
 Cham. And let me tell you, Sir, once for all, 
 that unless you instantly fulfil your agreement, 
 I'll have you laid by the heels, for detaining a 
 member of the Blood Royal under false pretences. 
 If that doesn't frighten the fellow, he's impene- 
 trable. (A 'side.) 
 
 Ped. Have me laid by the heels ? Poor man, 
 d'ye hear him ? laid by the heels come, I like 
 that I think I see myself laid by the heels. 
 
 Cham, Was there ever such an insensible 
 why, you fetch -and -carry rascal 
 
 Ped. Come, come ; I'll thank you not to call 
 names; it isn't civil to a new acquaintance. 
 
 Cham. Acquaintance ! this fellow's worse than 
 a surfeit. I shall not have a morsel of appetite 
 for my dinner. 
 
 Ped. If you don't behave yourself, you'll not 
 have a morsel of dinner for your appetite will 
 he, Mr. John's man ? 
 
 Cham. I can endure it no longer. Reynard, 
 Fripon, La Roche ! (Calling.) 
 
 Ped. Pho ! pho ! don't be ridiculous (imitating 
 Vincent) that's the way, isn't it ? 
 
 Cham. What says the booby ? 
 
 Ped. Don't bother ; don't be troublesome, fel- 
 low ! Oh that's it comes as natural as the life. 
 
 Cham. Where are they all Varenne, La 
 Roche ! Where can these fellows be ? 
 
 Ped. With John of Paris, to be sure. Go 
 and talk to him he's your man. Bless you, 
 it's no fault of mine. I did my best for you j 
 just now I took the liberty of going into my own 
 kitchen ; but they trundled me outagain neck 
 and crop -told me I'd no business there, and 
 sent me to the devil. So I went to John of 
 Paris. 
 
 s 2 
 
34 JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 Cham. What then ? 
 
 Ped. Then he pop'd another purse of money 
 under my nose upon which I immediately recol- 
 lected 
 
 Cham. What ? what did you recollect ? 
 
 Ped. That it wasn't my business to affront a 
 customer. 
 
 Fin. So you pocketed the money ? 
 
 Ped. Certainly, its a custom I have. 
 
 Cham. Why, scoundrel, is it thus you make 
 distinctions? 
 
 Ped. I make no distinctions, I make it a rule to 
 treat all comers with equal attenrion I didn't 
 refuse your fifty piasters, you know. 
 
 Cham. (With dignity} Fellow, your doom is 
 fix'd. Your ignorance and folly I might have par- 
 don'd, but contempt of the honorable situation 
 I hold, and neglect of the high trust which I re- 
 posed in you, now calls upon the strong arm of 
 justice to redress. Too late you'll find, weak and 
 mistaken man, that insolence and meanness never 
 go unpunish'd. nor will they find support even 
 from John of Paris. [Exit Chamberlain. 
 
 Ped. He does not seem pleased. 
 
 Fin. The Chamberlain at last behaves with 
 propriety I must alarm this fellow into common 
 civility, or our plan may be destroy 'd. (Aside). 
 Ped. Lord, what's the matter with me ? I feel 
 very odd. 
 
 Fin. And well you may, poor wretch. 
 
 Ped. Poor wretch ! Don't talk nonsense What 
 d'ye mean ? 
 
 Fin. The meaning's plain, you have roused the 
 just resentment of that worthy man, and even 
 should he spare your life- 
 Ped. Hey ! 
 
 Fin. You'll linger out the remnant of your 
 
JOHN OF PARIS, : > 
 
 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," 
 
 <c My true love is mine." 
 " Now my victory bless:" 
 
 "Oh yes, my Love, yes. 1 ' 
 To his bosom she sprung, 
 And there joyfully sung, 
 " While we've life, all for Love, all for Honour !" 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 The Garden of the Inn. 
 
 Enter- PEDRIGO and ROSA. 
 
 Ped. End- my days in a dungeon! Come, I'm 
 out of that scrape, however. Mercy on us, how 
 vicious disappointment makes a hungry stomach ! 
 he threaten'd to put me on short allowance, 
 by way of giving me a taste, as he call'd it e'cod 
 he'd have done it too, if I had not buckled down, 
 and promised to keep a sharp look out on Mr. 
 John and the Princess. 
 
 Enter GREGORY. 
 
 Greg. Sir, Sir, John of Paris ! 
 
 Ped. What, coming ? 
 
 Greg. Yes, Sir he has got the Princess tuck'd 
 under his arm as neat as a napkin. 
 
 Ped. And the Chamberlain ? 
 
 Greg. Struts before them, Sir, like a drum- 
 major, Sir. [Exit Gregory. 
 
 Ped. Now for it then. (Pulls out a long Bill of 
 Fare) Rosa, mind what you are about. Fish 
 at the top, soup in the middle. 
 
 Rosa. Lord, father, how should you know : 
 Soup at the top ! 
 
 Ped. Have you no consideration for her High- 
 ness's nose ? Would you stew a Princess to death 
 
38 JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 in a hot-bath of soup-maigre ? Put the venison at 
 the bottom, the Chamberlain sits there; and he 
 likes a solid joint : its rather too strong of the 
 haut gout, I fear ; but if he doesn't stop his nose, 
 he'll soon stop his mouth, I warrant. Rosa ! 
 
 Rosa. Father ! 
 
 -Fed. How is the venison ? Four days, you 
 know - 
 
 Rosa, Delicious ! 
 
 Fed. What, all right ? 
 
 Rosa. Nothing can be better. 
 
 Fed. Mr. John's cook's a deep one Mum ! he 
 has been a restaurateur before to-day. 
 
 (Music.) 
 
 Enter JOHN, PROCESS, and CHAMBERLAIN, fol- 
 lowed by Villagers, Dancers, &c. 
 
 John. Now then prepare. 
 
 (Music The Table appears, and various Embel- 
 lishments in honour of the Princess). 
 
 Prin. Amazing ! this has more the air of a 
 courtly fete champetre, than a simple village fes- 
 tival. 
 
 John. Your approbation, Madam, makes me 
 truly happy ; I could wish it better but a plain 
 Citizen 
 
 Cham. (Surveying the preparations with sur- 
 prise) k plain Citizen, and such splendour 
 why, who is this man ? 
 
 Fed. John of Paris* 
 
 Cham. But we lose time is the dinner quite 
 ready for her Highness ? 
 
 Fed. It is, and the Chamberlain is quite ready 
 for the dinner. (Aside.) 
 
 John. Let it appear. 
 
JOHN OF PARIS. 39 
 
 Ped. Directly, Mr. John. 
 
 (Music Procession of Dinner Pedrigo bearing 
 the first Dish Rosa superintending.) 
 
 Cham. I'm astonish'd silver plate ! and can 
 all these belong to 
 
 Ped. John of Paris. Ask what you will, his 
 name answers every question. 
 
 Prin. I am indeed perfectly satisfied. (To John). 
 
 John. Believe me, tho' I offer it without suc- 
 cess, I offer it with all my heart. 
 
 Prin. So, so, he has began already. (Aside). 
 
 Cham. What said he ? Madam, the dinner 
 cools I attend your Highness. 
 
 (John takes her hand at the moment the 
 Chamberlain is receiving it, and retires). 
 
 Ped. Oh, he'll do it he'll do it. (Noticing 
 the action) . 
 
 Cham. Do it, do what ? 
 
 Ped. I only made an observation Mr. John 
 seems irresistible every where, that's all. 
 
 (They seat themselves at Table, the Fil- 
 lagers dance / and at the conclusion of the 
 Ballet, Me Princess, &c, advance}. 
 
 Prin. After all I have heard and seen, I am 
 anxious to know what family you are of. 
 
 Cham. So am I. 
 
 John. I am related, Madam, to the the First 
 Citizen in Paris. But come, my Lord Chamber- 
 lain will not object to a little singing, it will en- 
 liven our repast. Mr. Potts ! (calling him). 
 
 Ped. Mr. John 
 
 John. I heard your daughter sing a couplet of 
 the Troubadour will she repeat it ? 
 
 Rosa. Most willingly, Sir. 
 
 Ped. That's right, Rosee ; clear your pipes, 
 
40 JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 and perhaps he'll give you something worth hav- 
 ing. (She takes a Guitar). 
 
 John. The story is curious on his travels this 
 Troubadour won the affections of a certain Prin- 
 cess. 
 
 Prin. Indeed ! he was a bold man. 
 
 Cham. He must have been a very impudent 
 fellow. 
 
 John. Listen. 
 
 1st Stanza ROSA. 
 
 Thy Troubadour, 
 Who, love's soft bondage owns, 
 
 Here in thy bower 
 Pours forth his minstrel tones; 
 Born but for love, 
 To thee he'll faithful prove ; 
 O then confess 
 
 In turn, love's pow'r, 
 And, Lady, bless 
 
 Thy Troubadour. 
 
 CHORUS. (During which they dance). 
 Sound castanets while dancing, 
 Bounding, in grace advancing 
 Hark ! all the sprightly throng 
 Joins each joyful heart to raise the Song. 
 
 John. (Taking the Guitar.) You should sing 
 with more expression, more tenderness thus 
 
 2nd Stanza JOHN. 
 Thy Troubadour, 
 Consum'd by passion's flame, 
 
 Each passing hour 
 Sings to his peerless dame. 
 Hark ! each fond tone 
 Is struck to thee alone ; 
 
 O then confess 
 Love's mutual power, 
 
 And, Lady, bless 
 Thy Troubadour. 
 
 CHORUS. Sound castanets, &c. 
 
JOHN OF PARIS. 41 
 
 Prin. I know something of the story: the 
 Princess, if 1 remember right, answer'd in this 
 manner 
 
 3rd Stan%a. PRINCESS. 
 
 Dear Troubadour, 
 Whose gentle mind is given 
 
 To glory's hour, 
 Or love's luxurious heav'n ; 
 Keep firm thine oath 
 To her who hears thy trotb ; 
 She'll soon confess 
 
 In turn, love's power, 
 And, haply, bless 
 Her Troubadour. 
 
 (Chorus as before the Dancers complete their 
 Ballet, and leave the Stage). 
 
 John. (Aside to Vincent.) See that my people 
 obey the orders I gave them, 
 
 Fin. Instantly. [Eocit Vincent. 
 
 Cham. I neither like that Troubadour business, 
 nor all those amorous glances. Will your High- 
 ness now proceed on your journey ? May I order 
 the carriages? 
 
 Prin. Certainly. 
 
 Cham. I wish we were safe away from this 
 man. If the King should hear of it, I may lose 
 my office. Pedrigo, have an eye upon him. 
 
 Fed. I will I smoke (Exit Chamberlain). I'll 
 not spoil sport, tho' I'll be Jack o'-both-sides. 
 
 (Retires to watch them). 
 
 Prin. Before we part, I request to know what 
 brought you into this part of the country ? 
 
 John. An event the most interesting I came 
 to s^ek a wife. 
 
 P2 
 
42 JOHN OF PARIS. 
 
 Prin. Indeed ! you seem dejected at the very 
 name perhaps a mere marriage of convenience, 
 
 John. Of the strongest inclination. 
 
 Prin. Is the object so amiable ? 
 
 Jo.hn, Nature never forrn'd a thing so/perfect 
 every thing thfct mind and person can bestow, 
 are hers ; and to her alone my vows were given 
 from the first moment I beheld her. 
 
 Prin. An enthusiast too ! you indeed appear 
 in love. 
 
 John. Appear ! believe me, I am. 
 
 (Seizing her hand). 
 
 Prin. Sir, you forget I I am not this happy 
 object you you are warm, Sir. 
 
 John. Pardon me, all men are so who speak to 
 those of those, they love. 
 
 Prin. Nearly caught (Aside). I must teaze 
 him a little. Well, Sir, you must know that I 
 myself, urged by the King my brother to enter 
 the state of matrimony, have already chosen a 
 husband. 
 
 John. 'Tis true then ! (Aside). 
 
 Pri7i. And as you have given such ample proof 
 of ability in conducting festivals, 1 engage you to 
 superintend that at my marriage. 
 
 John. 'Sdeatti ! be witness of my rival's triumph. 
 Madam, you over-power me with joy torments ! 
 - but unless I know your happy consort's name- 
 his person 
 
 Prin. Oh, I'll give you his description ; but 
 his name he wishes to conceal. See, I wear his 
 portrait in my bosom the original is in my 
 heart. 
 
 John. Distraction ! 
 
JOHN OF PARIS. 43 
 
 " DUETT JOHN and PRINCESS. 
 
 Prin. " The dearest form my childhood knew, 
 
 " Delighted here I trace, 
 u With every charm my fancy drew, 
 " And every princely grace. 
 
 John. u Oh, Lmdy, think, while thus you sigh, 
 
 " How false his heart may prove ; 
 " He may, like those frail colours, fly, 
 <c And basely scorn thy lo*e. 
 
 f <c Ah no, < t j^ sc 1 e yes of heavenly blue, 
 | Proclaim a heart as fond as true ; 
 Boih ' 4 | ^, d | barter all the world to be 
 
 So dearly lov'd, if lov'd by [ J^V, } 
 "(At the conclusion" she shews him the Picture}. 
 
 John. Heavens ! my own portrait. 
 Prin. Your's ! This is the Prince. 
 John. I am the Prince, f Dropping on his knee). 
 Prin. Ah ! fairly caught at last. When next 
 you use disguise, " beware of John of Paris." 
 
 (Shews the Letter). 
 
 (Pedrigo enters at the moment, and the Cham- 
 berlain on the opposite side). 
 
 Ped. Hey ! mercy on us ! but I thought how 
 'twould be I said he'd take possession of her, 
 and he has done it he's done it ! 
 
 Cham. Do my eyes deceive me !~ Does the 
 Princess suffer at her feet 
 
 John. Her husband ! (Rising) Is that so sur- 
 prising, Sir ? 
 
 Ped. Ah, is that so surprising ? (to Cham.) 
 
 Cham. Husband ! Oh scandalous ! abomina- 
 ble ! 
 
Delect British theatre, 
 
 Publishing in Weekly Number s^ 
 
 (Price One Shilling each), 
 
 By JOHN MILLER, Bow-Street, Covens-Garden ; 
 
 \ 
 
 TO CONTAIN 
 
 ALL THE PLAYS 
 
 TORMERLY ADAPTED TO THE STAGK 
 
 BY MR. KEMBLE, 
 
 And Revised by him, with ADDITIONAL ALTERATIONS, 
 
 Now first uniformly printed as they are performed at 
 
 THE THEATRES ROYAL. 
 
 PLAYS ALREADY PUBLISHED. 
 
 No. 
 
 1. King Richard the Third. 
 
 2. Othello. 
 J. Hamlet. 
 
 4. Venice Preserved. 
 
 5. Cortolanus. 
 
 6. Cato. 
 
 No. 
 
 7. Julius Caesar, 
 
 8. Romeo and Juliet, 
 p. Isabella, 
 
 10. Macbeth. 
 
 11. Fair Penitent, 
 
 12. The Revenge, 
 
ZEMBUCA; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE NET-MAKER AND HIS WIFE: 
 
 8 Bramattc Romance, 
 
 t 
 
 IN 
 
 IN TWO ACTS; 
 
 AS REPRESENTED AT THE 
 
 Cfjeatte * Hogal, <oaenf> 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<nevei 
 did one of the Tradeoffs! them with sincerer gratitude to 
 all parties from whom he has received assistance, than 
 myself. By the united efforts of all concerned in the re- 
 presentation of Zembuca, it became at once a favorite 
 with the Public ; and now, as upon former occasions, 
 J must pay to Mr. FARLEY, upon whom the general 
 arrangement of these Productions devolves, my most 
 especial thanks, for the ability and attention he so 
 uniformly exhibits in his department. 
 
 I. P. 
 
PERSONS REPRESENTED 
 
 Zembuca, the Sultan, * ......... . ....... Mr. Farley* 
 
 Selim, Aga of the Janissaries, ..*-.. Mr. Abbott. 
 Korac, Confidant of Zembuca, and") M T 
 Governor of the Household, .... y VJ ' rry * 
 
 Mirza, the Net-Maker, ... ............. Mr. Emery. 
 
 Bit far do <Superintndarl of Slaves, ) Mr T ton 
 Purse-bearer, %c ..... . ................. } Mr. .Liston. 
 
 Abdallah, .... .................. . ................. Mr. HowelL 
 
 Cryer, .................. . ......................... Mr. Atkins. 
 
 Hasan, - ....... ........... ............. ......... Mr. King. 
 
 Salic, ......... ..,.* .......... . ...... .. ........ *.., Mr. Tinney* 
 
 Malic, ........................ . ................... Mr. Duruset. 
 
 Tasner 9 ........................ .......... ....... Mr. Norrisv 
 
 The Spear-Guard, ..... ................. .. Mr. Jefferies* 
 
 Sentinel, .... ..... . ....... ............. ............ Mr. Lewis. 
 
 Almazaide, the betrothed Wife /| jvii ss Booth. 
 Selim, . ...... ..... .....*.* 3 
 
 Ebra, the Wife of Mirm, ........ Mrs. Gibbs. 
 
 Katcheka, a Slave, ..... ....... .... ...... Miss Carew. 
 
 Guards, Slaves, $c. 
 
 Principal Dancers Miss Lupino, Mrs. Parker^ and 
 Mr. Soissons. 
 
 Sc #> 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 
 <c like game-cocks, and cover yourselves with 
 " glory." Upon which the Captain of the Janis- 
 saries, taking me, that is, mistaking me for a hero, 
 swore I should lead a party into the very thick 
 of the battle. 
 
 Prices (without). BufFardo ! Buffardo ! 
 
 | | Enter HASAN. 
 
 Buf. That's the fellow, with the long whis- 
 kers, that let fly at me well I 
 
 G2 
 
44 ZEMBUCA. 
 
 "Has. You are waited for ; the rebels advance ; 
 we expect fine sport. 
 
 Buf. Sport! sport! I wish you merry Tray 
 don't let me keep you from the entertainment. 
 
 Has. Why, you are appointed to head the 
 sortie, and surprise the enemy. 
 
 Buf. Are you sure the enemy won't surprise 
 us ? 
 
 Has. Why, they are very strong, so you had 
 better prepare there will be the devil to pay 
 presently. (Going}. 
 
 Buf. The devil to pay, will there ? Then, as I 
 am purse-bearer, curse me if I don't resign my 
 office fly, rascal, to your post, and say I am 
 coming when the fight's finished. 
 
 (HASAN is met by Officer and Troops). 
 
 Off. Halt! 
 
 Buf. Ah! some of us will halt with ^ven- 
 geance, after the battle. 
 
 Off. Buffardo, you must remain 1 here the 
 chief attack is expected on this side the fortress. 
 
 Buf. You don't say so ! 
 
 Off. We shall be safe enough y 
 
 Buf. Shall you? I wish I was of your party 
 
 then, afeqesd 
 
 Off. Our scouts inform me, there. are no,,csnd 
 to the troops who are advancing. , \ jb^ivoiq 
 
 Buf. Ah ! then there will soon be an $nd of 
 
 me - : '"-I ladhfjl ^itfip 
 
 Off. Now plant your men upon the ramparts, 
 
 and stand firm ! ,, \Exit Officer. 
 
 (HAS.AN occupied in-dressing- the Troop). 
 Buf. I'll stand firm, as long as I can, you may 
 take your oath ; and, When I've planted my riven, 
 as yon call it, Fil transplant myself to a "place 
 of safety. He re? s a horrid business r 
 
145 
 
 stuck me in the -post of Honor ! Honor ! ' 
 it never was in my department. 
 
 ' A 
 [Flouris/i]. not 
 
 r. 
 
 Enter ZEMBUCA, KORAC, and Guard, with AL- 
 MAZAIDE. 
 
 / - <1 
 
 Zem. Convey her to the tower that flanks the 
 northern entrance, over the dry moat. 
 
 Ko. Not there ! not there ! 'Tis dangerous, 
 should the foe strike there. 
 
 Zem. I care not ; from that tower she shall be- 
 hold the downfall of the rebel Selim. 
 
 'Aim. E'en lead me where you please; Selim, 
 my beloved Selim ! has escaped thy tyrant grasp, 
 and I shall now possess, even in death, a joy 
 beyond thy power to deprive me of. 
 
 Zem. You know your orders obey them. 
 
 (ALMAZAIDE is led off ZEMBUCA perceives 
 irfo ftts BUFFARDO hiding himself beh1$$ the 
 383-iJio: Troops). 
 
 ^ Buffardp! Villain I (BUFFARDO shrinkfr^from 
 him, terrified) Should yon have aided Selim 
 in his flight, you pay the forfeit with your life. 
 
 Buf. Impossible ! my life is bespoke already, 
 "By 'the Captain of the Janissaries Oh, yes, I'm 
 provided for. 
 
 Zem. When you are return'd, we sfcail en- 
 quire further Now, follow me, to punish trea- 
 son, and subdue rebellion ! [Exit ivith Troops. 
 Buf. -When I'm return'd, hey ? If ever I'm 
 returned, it shan't be in the list of killed arid 
 wounded I'll be one of the missing my accom- 
 modating conscience is terribly bother'd ; but if 
 I can save my life, arid retain my place, its all 
 the same to me which party gets into power. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
46 ZEMBUCA. 
 
 SCENE THE LAST. 
 
 The exterior of the Fortress the body of the build- 
 ing, with Ramparts and Towers extending in per- 
 spective up the Stage A Moat, dry, occupies the 
 centre a Drazvbridge raised over it steps on 
 the right ascend to a IVate r- sluice, shut. In the 
 distance, various buildings appertaining to the Pa'" 
 [ace and Fortress, beyond which are Mountains, 
 with a Minaret on one of their summits. The 
 appearance, early dawn the whole exhibiting a 
 striking effect of repose and grandeur. 
 
 ALMAZAIDE /j f seen in a grated window of the 
 Tower that flanks the Bridge. 
 
 Music 9 low and mournful, accompanies the opening. 
 KORAC appears at the Portal, and looks around the 
 Various parts as in search notices ALMAZAIDE- 
 Music ceases. bBsnqe 
 
 Ko. Yes, in that Tower she is immur'd, the 
 very Tower I warn'd them to attack ; 'tis true, I 
 may release her, but to pass the moat without 
 our friends to aid us ! it must not be attempted 
 my heart misgives me, if Ebra should have lost 
 that packet to the Shiek Mohammed. ' 
 
 . (EsRA appears at the Bridge 
 
 Round, round to the portal ! 
 
 (Koiuc crosses the Stage^ as EZRA, goes from the 
 
 Platform*- the Drawbridge slowly descends, and 
 : MIBZA cautiously. passes > 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 * <arncn, 
 
 TUESDAY, MAY 20, 1817- 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR JOHN MILLER, 25, BOW-STREET, 
 COVENT-GARDEN; 
 
 By B. MMillan, Bow-Street, Covent-Gardeiu 
 
 1817. 
 [Price Two Shillings.] 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 Don Pedro, Mr. Chapman. 
 
 Don Juan, Mr. C. Kemble. 
 
 Don Octavio, Mr. Sinclair. 
 
 Leporello, Mr. Listen. 
 
 Masetto, Mr. Duruset. 
 
 Lopez, *, Mr. Comer. 
 
 Peasant, Mr. Norris. 
 
 Donna Elvira, Mrs. Faucit. 
 
 Donna Leonora, Miss Matthews. 
 
 Maria, , Miss Carew. 
 
 Zerlina, Miss Stephens. 
 
 Peasants, Masqueraders, Dancers, Demons, 8?c. fyc. 
 
 
 
 SCENE In and near Seville. 
 
 *** The lines \rith inverted commas, are omitted 
 in representation, in consequence of the length of the 
 Piece. 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 The Garden of Don Pedro's House at Seville 
 Part of the Mansion on the left, with 
 Door, Balcony, and Window ; at the back, 
 Railing, and open Iron Gates The Wall, 
 in an angular direction to the right, is inter- 
 sected by Trees and Flowers. Music, as the 
 Scene opens Leporello descends a Ladder 
 placed at the angle, followed by Don Juan. 
 
 Don J. Now, Spirit of Intrigue., befriend 
 thy votary ! 
 
 Lep. Guardians of Innocence, on you I call ! 
 protect me, I beseech you, from spring-guns, 
 and man-traps ! 
 
 Don J. Come on! the lanthorn ! ( Music}. 
 
 ( Leporello gives the Lanthorn Don Juan 
 reconnoitres). 
 
 Lep. Now, must I stand sentinel without, 
 while he plays the lover within. Night after 
 night, the same game, and every week a fresh 
 object! My constitution will never hold--it 
 will kill me ! 
 
2 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 Don J. 'Tis well; they sleep,, Leporello ! 
 the key ! the key ! 
 
 Lep. There it is ; that cursed key can open 
 half the doors in Seville. 
 
 Don J. Now, haughty Don,, spite of thy 
 mandate, Leonora, the beauteous Leonora, shall 
 be mine ! 
 
 Lep. Leonora! the daughter of Don Pedro, 
 the first Grandee in the city ? 
 
 Don J. The same ! 
 
 Lep. Are you mad ? 
 
 Don J. I'm in love. 
 
 Lep. That's worse. ( Liglit appears at the 
 window). Sir! Sir! 
 
 Don J. ; What now ? 
 
 Lep. Look! (Points to the window). 
 
 Don J. Ha! not yet retired : I am too early. 
 
 Lep. You are never too late on such occa- 
 sions. Oh! that J dare tell you a piece of my 
 mind ! 
 
 Don J. Say on : -thy folly will divert my 
 impatience. 
 
 Lep. Have you forgotten one Donna Elvira ? 
 
 Don J. Elvira! who's she ? 
 
 Lep. Who's she! his own wife! and asks 
 Can't your Lordship call to mind a slight mishap 
 you met with about three weeks ago ? 
 
 Don. J. What was it ? 
 
 Lep. You got married. 
 
 Don J. Ha! ha! true that was the most 
 serious accident that ever happened to me but 
 I'm quite recovered. 
 
 Lep. Recovered! that's very well for you; 
 tut with reverence to your Worship., I have a 
 conscience. 
 
 Don J. Ha! ha! a what? 
 Lep. A conscience. And, sooth to say, I am 
 something scandalized at the life you lead. 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 3 
 
 Don J. 'Tis wondrous pleasant! 
 
 Lep. Pleasant ! under favour, I have seen 
 handsomer gentlemen than you, hanged for such 
 pranks. 
 
 Don J. How, rascal ! 
 
 Lep. How? why, with a cord, vulgar hemp. 
 I beg pardon. 
 
 Don J. Proceed, proceed! 
 
 Lep. I should never finish, were I to enu- 
 merate the catalogue of your vagaries the 
 bead-roll would last till doomsday. 
 
 Don J. Am I not right ? I have a heart to 
 be in love with all the world, and, like Alex- 
 der, could wish me other worlds, that I might 
 still love, still conquer. 
 
 Lep. I find your Lordship is no more afraid 
 of perdition, than many other gay cavaliers ; 
 but I have scruples. People will be apt to say, 
 ft like master, like man/' and I may be hanged 
 in your Lordship's company. 
 
 Don J. Be tranquil, Leporello; that's an 
 honour you'll ne'er have courage to deserve. 
 
 Lep. I am not ambitious, ( The window is 
 opened Leonora appears ) . 
 
 Leon. 'St, 'st 
 
 Don J. Hush ! we have been discovered 
 
 Lep. Discover'd! I'm a dead man! (Drops 
 on his knees). 
 
 Leon. Octavio! Octavio! 
 
 Don J. Leonora! (In a subdued tone). 
 
 Leon. Dear Octavio, I dare not meet you yet. 
 Depart, and read that note. ( She throws down 
 a Letter, and closes the window}. 
 
 Don J. Good. She takes me for that favour'd 
 npstart, young Octavio, the light quick! 
 ( Leporello discloses the Lanthorn, and holds it 
 while Don Juan finds and reads the Note). 
 f< When 'tis time, my attendant shall apprise 
 
 B 2 
 
4 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 you. You know the signal." The signal! 
 s'death! I know it not. 
 
 Lep. For the love of life, let us leave the 
 garden she'll raise the house,, and I shall be 
 murder'd. 
 
 (Prelude without}. 
 
 Don J. Ha ! who have we here ? 
 Lep. It's all over ! 
 
 Don J. Some serenading coxcomb. Curse 
 on his intrusion. 
 
 (Octavio and Serenaders enter, and place 
 themselves under the Window Leporello 
 creeps to the side amongst the trees, fol- 
 lowed by Don Juan). 
 
 SONG Serenade, Octavio, 
 
 Come shining forth, my dearest. 
 
 With looks of warm delight, 
 Shed joy as thou appearest, 
 
 Like morning's beam of light ! 
 Like morning's beam of light, Love f 
 
 Mild shines thine azure eye, 
 Thine absence is a night, Love, 
 
 In which I droop and die. 
 
 Oh ! let me hear that tongue, Love, 
 
 Whose music thrills my heart, 
 Like notes by Angels sung, Love, 
 
 When souls in bliss depart. 
 And, at thy casement rising, 
 
 Illume my ravish'd sight, 
 Like day, the world surprizing, 
 
 With morning's beam of light. 
 
 (At the close, the window is slowly opened. 
 Don Juan appears listening, and Lepo- 
 rello crouching close behind him Leo- 
 nora appears on the Balcony). 
 
THE J.1BERTINE. 5 
 
 Oct. The \vindow opens. Begone! begone! 
 DonJ. 'Tis himself, Octavio! 
 Leon. This must be some mistake. I have not 
 heard the whistle. 
 
 DonJ. The whistle! enough. [_Music.~\ 
 ( Don Juan rushes after Octavio, who has 
 sent off his Companions). 
 
 DonJ. (Without). Villain, have I caught 
 thee ? 
 
 Oct. Ah! betrayed! 
 
 Leon. Ah! (Closing the window, suddenly 
 the light disappears). 
 
 Lep. Here's goodly work ! Heaven bless all 
 serving-men from such a master as mine ! Turn 
 him loose with Belzebub, and he'll beat him 
 at his own weapons Ey! 
 
 ( Don Juan enters hastily, with a Ribbon, 
 to which is attached a Whistle ) . 
 
 Lep. Which of you is kilPd you, or the 
 other ? 
 
 Don J. I have obtained my object, but he 
 escaped. 
 
 Lep. I wish I could escape. 
 
 (Don Juan draws near the window, and 
 whistles). 
 
 Lep. This will end in something unpleasant 
 the gallows, as like as not. 
 
 ( The door opens Maria appears), 
 
 Mar. 'St! 'si! Don Octavio! 
 Don J. Here. 
 
 Mar. My lady feared you had been beset by 
 ruffians. 
 
 Don J. Soft lead me to her. 
 
 ( Goes in door closed). 
 Lep. Ob, that Octavio's sword had released 
 me from this precious night-bird ! While he 
 
6 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 lives, I must be faithful, in spite of my inclina- 
 tion. If I quit him without leave, he's so re- 
 vengeful, he'd search all Spain to find me out, 
 for the sole satisfaction of cutting my throat. 
 
 ( Scuffle in the House, and voices Leo- 
 nora screams}. 
 
 Hey ! I thought so. I knew it ! Oh ! this is 
 no time for ceremony ! I'm off. 
 
 ( Leporello runs off by the gates ) . 
 
 Don P. Traitor, think not to escape. 
 Leon. Help, help ! I'll die sooner than quit 
 my hold. 
 
 Don J. Foolish woman ! be advised! 
 
 ( Enter struggling, followed ~by Don Pedro ) . 
 
 Don P. Turn, turn, abandon'd villain, and 
 meet a father's wrath, a father's chastisement. 
 
 Leon. Oh, father! father! 
 
 Don P. You fly not hence unpunished. 
 
 (Many voices without}. This way! this! 
 follow! follow! 
 
 Don J. If thou wilt perish, take thy destiny, 
 
 [Music."] 
 Leon. Oh! shield, protect him! 
 
 (Short and rapid combat. Don Juan,, 
 hearing the alarm, throws Leonora/raw 
 him, and draws. Don Pedro falls. 
 Leporello rushes in, as pursued. The 
 -voices again heard close without}. 
 Lep. Fly! fly! we are beset on all sides. 
 
 ( They scale the Wall At the instant, 
 Octavio and Party rush in with torches. 
 Maria and Servants enter from the 
 House. Leonora sees the body of her 
 Father, utters a shriek, and falls ) . 
 
 Tableau. 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 A Hall in the Mansion 0/DoN PEDRO. 
 [Mws/c.] 
 
 Servants enter in confusion; MARIA followed 
 by others, giving directions. 
 
 Mar. Are the messengers dispatched, as Don 
 Octavio directed ? 
 
 Serv. They are, they are ! 
 
 Mar. Away then, quickly, and remove all 
 traces of this horrible event. My mistress 
 comes, away, away ' [Music. ,] 
 
 [Exeunt Maria and Servants. 
 
 Enter OCTAVIO and LEONORA. 
 
 Oct. Be comforted you have yet the fond- 
 est lover, and the truest friend. 
 
 Leon. Never, never again shall Leonora 
 taste of comfort. O ! Octavio, our fatal pas- 
 sion has destroyed him : but for our imprudent 
 assignation, he had still lived ! he that gave 
 me life ! my dear, dear father ! 
 
 Oct. Tears are no sacrifice for blood, calm 
 this tumultuous grief, and think but of re- 
 venge. 
 
 Leon. Revenge can ne'er give back the 
 dead. Juan, ungrateful, and perfidious Juan, 
 soon receives a punishment, terrible and just ; 
 but never, never can restore my father. 
 
 Oct. Juan! was he the wretch? 
 
 Leon. Too surely ; I knew his voice. 
 
 Oct. You are deceived under the guise of 
 friendship, to perpetrate so fool a crime ! 
 impossible! 
 
 Leon. Nay, he came not so, but, like a 
 
8 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 fiend of darkness,, marring the bliss he was de- 
 nied to share ! Muffled in his cloak., with every 
 feature shrouded like his form, he stole into 
 my presence, my cries were heard, assistance 
 was at hand he fled, and dragged me with 
 him. To confirm my doubt, this glove, which 
 in the struggle, I retained, bears his detested 
 name. 
 
 Oct. O, eternal stain on fair nobility ! inde- 
 lible disgrace to the proud name of Spaniard ! 
 Thy life, I swear, shall be the forfeit of thy 
 crime, or mine be lost in the attempt to pu- 
 nish it. 
 
 DUET Leonora and Octavio. 
 
 Leon. Leave me, for ever leave me ! 
 Heaven, of life bereave me! 
 With him, who being gave me, 
 Oh, let me perish too ! 
 
 Oct. Forbear this wild appealing, 
 
 Oh, calm your frantic feeling! 
 And hear your lover, kneeling, 
 Vow life and death with you ! 
 
 Leon. My Love, alas! forgive me, 
 
 My madd'ning mind will leave me! 
 My father, thee 1 call! 
 
 Ocfa Console thee, soothe thy mind, Love ! 
 
 Ever in me thou'lt find, Love, 
 A father, lover, all! 
 
 Leon. Swear, for my bleeding sire, 
 
 Thou'lt stern avenger prove. 
 
 Oct. I swear, by thine eyes' soft fire, 
 
 I swear by all our love! 
 
 Both. Our bosoms, Oh! just heaven! 
 Till vengeance shall be given, 
 By rage and sorrow riven, 
 Tortures on tortures prove! 
 
 [Exeunt 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 Distant View of Seville : Morning. 
 
 Enter DON JITAN, followed by LEPORELLO. 
 
 Don J. Come on, and, prithee, let me hear 
 no more reproofs, or I shall crop your ears, 
 sirrah. 
 
 Lep. A word to the wise that's quite suffi- 
 cient. 
 
 Don J. What though we failed, success was 
 well deserved. 
 
 4< 'Mongst all the joys, which in the world are souglif, 
 <c None are so great as those by dangers bought." 
 
 -Ey! 
 
 Lep. I've done, I've done! He thinks no 
 more of running; a gentleman through the body, 
 than I do of splitting a lark ! 
 
 ZERLI^A fl/zdMASETio, with Male and Female 
 Peasantry, enter, as to celebrate a Wedding 
 DON JUAN and LEPORELLO retire. 
 
 DUET AND CHORUS Zerlina, Masctto, 
 and Peasants. 
 
 Zer. Pretty lasses, love's summer, remember, 
 
 Ever flies upon gossamer wing ; 
 Suffer not then, life's chilly December, 
 To destroy Cupid's bow and his string! 
 
 Lira la, lira la ! 
 
 Bui make haste, and be happy, like rue i 
 Chorus. Lira la, lira la! 
 
 Zer. Sf > 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! 
 
 <e Zer. Do not use me thus, indeed I have not 
 deserved it. 
 
 ff Mas. Not! why persist in coming here, after 
 what has passed ? 
 
 " Zer. Where's the harm, would you deny 
 me this fine entertainment, the music, the 
 dancing ? it was all on our account, and if 
 the Signer will pay me so much attention., how 
 can I prevent him ? Now, Masetto " 
 
22 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 SONG Zerlina. 
 
 " Chide me, chide me, dear Masctto! 
 
 " Chide Zerlina at your will ; 
 4C Like the patient lamb, I'll suffer, 
 
 * Meek and mute, and loving still. 
 
 " Rend these locks you've prais'd so highly, 
 
 " From thine arms, Zerlina cast ; 
 " These fond eyes in rage extinguish, 
 
 " Fondly still they'll look their last. 
 
 4 c Ah ! I see, Love, you're relenting, 
 
 " Pardon, kneeling, implore, 
 " Night and day to thee devoted, 
 
 " Here I vow to err no more." 
 
 <e Mas. (Subdued, and kissing her hand). 
 There's no resisting her! Ah! we swains have 
 stout hearts, but marvellous weak heads! ( They 
 turn up the Stage)." 
 
 Enter LEPORELLO at the side, in subdued 
 alarm. 
 
 Lep. All's not right we have suspicious com- 
 pany ! yet, he sees them not, nor will he hear. 
 Folks are not wont to wear Toledo blades a 
 yard and a half long, at a Masquerade! I 
 don't like it. 
 
 \Music.~] 
 
 ( Don Juan and Masks enter at the upper 
 end as they advance to occupy the Stage, 
 Octavio, Leonora, and Elvira, enter at 
 the side they are noticed by Leporello 
 Zerlina and Masetto again join the 
 throng). 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 23 
 
 DonJ. Now then, our dance the soft Bolero 
 and the gay Fandango! when Pleasure fills 
 the cup, and Beauty proffers it, who would not 
 taste? I'll quaff it to the dregs! Well, what 
 now ? 
 
 Lep. Sir, Sir! there are certain strangers 
 
 Don J. They are welcome! welcome all. 
 (To the Party, who bow slightly). Refresh- 
 ments quick! the motto here, is " Liberty and 
 Love!" you are entirely welcome! (bowing to 
 them, and turning to the rest). But, we lose 
 time provide Masetto with a partner. ( Aside 
 to Leporello, as he turns towards Zerlina). 
 
 Elv. That's the young girl, I told you of 
 we must save her from this destroyer! Oh, 
 shame upon my tenderness! even now, I would 
 preserve him (Aside}. 
 
 Oct. (To Lopez). Be cautious! the stag at 
 bay is a dangerous foe! and surrounded by his 
 dissolute and desperate companions the time ill 
 suits. (Leporello, in pairing the Dancers, 
 comes close to Octavio, and starts). 
 
 Lep. As I live, Don Octavio! he's here for 
 no good, I'll watch him. 
 
 Don J. Charming Zerlina! you are my part- 
 ner in the dance. (Kissing her hand). 
 
 Mas. Do again! your head shall ache for 't! 
 
 Lep. There's a storm rising but I'll be un- 
 der shelter (Apart). 
 
 Don J. Come, the music, strike. 
 
 [Ballet.] 
 
 ( During which, Masetto keeps an eye on 
 Juan Octavio is seen speaking occa- 
 sionally to Lopez Elvira and Leo- 
 nora, the same Don Juan exerts Twn- 
 self to overcome the scruples of Zerlina 
 
24 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 she at length consents, and they join 
 the Dance Leporello seeing Octavio 
 and Lopez, eyes them with suspicion., 
 makes his way to the upper end, and 
 enters the Summer-house. As the figure 
 of the Dance brings Juan and Zerlina 
 near it, he forces her off. Zerlina 
 screams, and the Dance ends in confu- 
 sion ) . 
 
 Mas. Ah! 'tis Zerlina's voice! 
 
 [Music."] 
 
 Zer. Help ! help ! Masetto! Masetto! (Rush- 
 ing forward). Oh '.save me! save me! 
 
 ( She runs into the arms of Masetto Juan 
 instantly following from the Summer- 
 house^ his sword drawn, and drag- 
 ging forward Leporello. ) 
 
 Don J. Wretch! rascal! 
 
 Lep. Ah! murder! what are you doing ? 
 
 Don J. This is the reptile who has dared to 
 insult that innocent but my own hand shall 
 bestow his punishment. 
 
 Lep. Ah! 
 
 Mas. No, Don Juan, 'twas thyself this sub- 
 terfuge shall not save you. 
 
 Oct. Villain! (Unmasks). 
 
 (Elvira and Leonora do the same). 
 
 Don J. 'Sdeath ! Octavio I , Leonora, and 
 Elvira too! 
 
 Oct. Ay, each minute is an age, till thou hast 
 answered for Don Pedro's death ! 
 
 (A roll of Thunder). 
 
 Don J. Is it so ? WeU, I shrink not let 
 heaven and earth combine, nothing can or shall 
 appal me ! 
 
( THE LIBERTINE. 25 
 
 SEPTETTO. 
 
 Tremble, traitor! Wrath is waking, 
 Terror deep thy conscience shaking, 
 Sudden vengeance guilt overtaking, 
 
 Thou, unheard, for aid shall cry ; 
 Dead to hope, un pitied falling, 
 Wild remorse thy heart appalling, 
 Thou for mercy vainly calling, 
 
 In despairing guilt shall die I 
 
 (Juan stands in the midst, laughing at their 
 rage, and braving their threats Octavio, 
 towards the close, breaks from Leonora and 
 Elvira, and attacking Don Juan, is dis- 
 armed Elvira rushes between them, and 
 arrests the blow of Juan Tableau). 
 
 END OF ACT I. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 ELVIRA'S House Viranda Window, and En- 
 trance. Evening twilight ~ [Music, .] 
 Peasants discovered. 
 
 MASETTO enters from the House, as the 
 Curtain rises. 
 
 Mas. So, if she can be safe any where from 
 the pursuit of this Don Devil, it must be with 
 the Lady Elvira; but, do not be far off, my 
 friends ; I may need your service yet. 
 
 
 
26 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 1st Peas. Never fear us, Masetto. 
 
 Mas. Even the dwelling of his wife may not 
 be sufficient to protect Zerlina from his snares. 
 When once his mind is bent on mischief, there's 
 nothing bars his course. 
 
 IstPeas. I'll warrant you, he's flesh and blood, 
 tho* he be a Lord : his head can feel the weight 
 of a cudgel, as well as another's. 
 
 [Exeunt Peasants. 
 
 Mas. This foolish girl has vexed me to the 
 heart; but woman is a riddle, that has puzzled 
 wiser heads than mine they sometimes seem to 
 love the man they hate, and hate the man they 
 love. 
 
 SONG Masetto. 
 
 When women warm us, 
 Oh, how they charm us, 
 Never alarm us, 
 
 Till they are wont 
 
 Wedded, how changing, 
 Fickle and ranging, 
 Fancy estranging, 
 
 From us they run ! 
 
 Rivals invite them, 
 Pleasures delight them, 
 Nothing can fright them, 
 Under the sun ! 
 
 Anger resenting^ 
 Never repenting, 
 Teazing, tormenting, 
 Still they go on ! 
 
 Nothing can move them, 
 Riddles we prove them, 
 Yet still we love them, 
 All said and done ! 
 
 When women, &c. 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 27 
 
 Enter DON JUAN and LEPORELLO. 
 
 Don J. You are right, Leporello; it was, 
 indeed, a fortunate escape. 
 
 Lep. Yes, for me, in particular! When your 
 purpose serves, you don't stand for trifles 
 friend or foe, its all one to you Ey! there goes 
 Masetto. 
 
 Don J. Masetto! where? Ah! then, Zerlina 
 cannot he far off. I have it! She is here, here, 
 in this very house. 
 
 Lep. Why, who's is it ? 
 
 DonJ. Elvira's. 
 
 Lep. Your wife's! What the pestilence 
 brought you here? 
 
 DonJ. Fool! my wife's house is the last 
 place in which they'll expect to find me. 
 
 JLep, Come, there's some truth in that. 
 
 DonJ. But how! how to attract her atten- 
 tion! Leporello, have you courage to assist in 
 a project? 
 
 Lep. Not a morsel! that last affair extin- 
 guished every spark on't. If you'll only stick 
 to wine, and give up women, I'll not flinch. 
 
 Don J. Give up women, sot! give up women! 
 give up the dearest blessing of my life. I am 
 confident Zerlina's in the house, Listen! You 
 shall take my cloak and hat ; I'll wear thine ; 
 and while you engage the attention of Elvira, 
 as Don Juan, I, as Leporello, may discover 
 the concealment of Zerlina. 
 
 Lep. Ah! while I get run thro' the body I 
 demur it's a bad plan. 
 
 DonJ. Sneaking scoundrel! can you fear 
 your rascally carcass, when I venture mine? 
 
 Lep. Oh ! I don't value my life ! but con- 
 
28 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 sider my reputation Only reflect on the dis- 
 grace of being killed in your character. 
 
 Don J. No matter, I insist so ah, Lepo- 
 rello! happy is the servant that can arrive at 
 the glory of dying for his master that's well! 
 
 (During this, they have changed Cloaks and 
 Hats The Window opens, and Elvira ap- 
 pears). 
 
 Elv. Hish! is that Masetto? Masetto! I 
 wo'uld speak with you. 
 
 Don J. Elvira! dearest Elvira! ( Turning 
 Leporello towards her). 
 
 Elv. Ah! Heaven! do my senses niock me? 
 Juan! 
 
 Don J. Yes, dear Elvira, your own repent- 
 ant Juan! 
 
 Elv. Can it be possible? that voice, con- 
 joined with those kind accents ! 
 
 Don J. Keep still, you dog, or I shall save 
 the hangman's labour (In a whisper to Le^ 
 porello, who fidgets). Ah! best beloved EI- 
 yira! 'tis your husband asks forgiveness, and 
 a shelter from the dangers that surround him. 
 
 (During this, Don Juan, provoked at the 
 sluggishness 0/Xeporello, and the awkward- 
 ness of his motions, makes him accom- 
 pany the expression of the words himself). 
 
 Don */., Admit me, I entreat. 
 
 Elv. That must not be; beneath this roof 
 you'll but increase your peril. 
 
 Don J. Ah! then she is here Villain, if you 
 stir, I'll stab you (To Leporello,). Oh! do 
 not keep me on the rack. 
 
 Elv. What a situation's mine! 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 29 
 
 Don J. Come down, my dearest love, come 
 down. 
 
 Elv. To be again imposed on! Ob, Juan, 
 Juan! 
 
 Don J. She yields! sbe yields! ( The Window 
 closes ) , 
 
 Ltp. If this lying devil hasn't wheedled her 
 again. 
 
 Don J. Now, observe when she comes out, 
 I may get admittance occupy her attention 
 speak little, and caress much. 
 
 Lep. Lord, I never made love in my life! 
 
 Don J. You know my way 
 
 Lep. But I never practised. 
 
 Don J. Pho ! easy as lying. 
 
 Lep. But, Sir your worship 
 
 Don J. No reply Peace ! the door opens 
 
 (Elvira enters Don Juan retreats, and as 
 she advances to Leporello passes behind her, 
 and enters the house). 
 
 Lep. If she should find me out ! 
 
 Elv. Could I have believed my sorrows 
 would have melted that obdurate breast? ( Le- 
 porello makes action of assent, imitating Juan). 
 Ah ! if you knew what sighs, what tears 
 your cruelty has caused me ! the anguish I have 
 endured ! 
 
 Lep. Oh ! (Attempts tenderness, but groans 
 as he kisses her hand). Angel ! 
 
 Elv. And will you be for ever mine will 
 you, indeed ? ( She reclines affectionately on 
 his shoulder ) . 
 
 Lep. Ah, goddess of love ! (Embracing her). 
 This is not unpleasant I like the joke. 
 
 Elv. Nay, fear not the approach of enemies, 
 
SO THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 no ill shall e'er befal thee, sheltered in my fond 
 arms. 
 
 Lep. I'm all on fire ! 
 
 ( Masetto appears on the watch the Pea- 
 sants stealing cautiously after him}. 
 
 JElv. My heart's dearest treasure ! 
 Lep. My soul's delight ! 
 JSlv. Swear then, 
 Lep. By this kiss 
 
 (At the moment Leporello is kissing Elvira, 
 Masetto strikes him down Leporello roars 
 Elvira screams, and runs into the house J, 
 
 Mas. Now traitor, I'll repay your kindness. 
 
 Elv. Ah ! fly, Juan, fly! 
 
 [Exit to the House. 
 
 Mas. Spare him not lay on ! lay on ! ( To 
 the Peasants). 
 
 Lep. Ah ! oh ! s'heart ! a man may as well 
 fight as he killed ! have at you, rogues ! 
 ( Leporello draws, and lays about him Ma- 
 setto starts ) . 
 
 Mas. Hold ! hold ! 'tis Leporello ! 
 
 Lep. Flesh and fire ! is this the way you 
 treat the best friend you have in the world ? 
 
 Mas. We took you for Don Juan Where 
 is he ? 
 
 [Music. ^ 
 
 ( Don Juan runs across the Stage, from 
 the House, Zerlina in his arms, scream- 
 ing). 
 
 Ah! 'tis he! follow he shall not escape us 
 now. [Exeunt Masetto and Peasants. 
 
 Lep. Plague take the booby, I say, and the 
 devil take my master ! I hav'n't a whole bone 
 in my body Ey ! 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 31 
 
 (Scuffle and confusion without). 
 
 Mas. Down with him ! villain ! Zerlina ! 
 (Without). 
 
 DonJ. Caitiff! rascals! (Without). 
 
 Lep. Oh., brave master! he fights like an 
 imprisoned rat he'll score you he'll pay you, 
 dogs! 
 
 Mas. Pusue ! pursue ! ( Don Juan returns 
 alone, running across). 
 
 Don J. Fly, fly, Leporello ! they are at my 
 heels fly, fly! [Exeunt. 
 
 Lep. Fly ! egad ! its no time for me to 
 stand, when he runs. [Exit. 
 
 Enter MASETTO and ZERLINA. 
 
 Zer. Oh, Masetto ! guard me from that 
 wicked man 1 
 
 Mas. From which ? he that fled, or he 
 with whom I found you ? Oh, Zerlina ! 
 
 Zer. What is't you mean ? Of whom do you 
 speak ? 
 
 Mas. I scarcely know Leporello, Juan, 
 hoth, or the devil in their likeness this girl will 
 drive me mad did I not see him kiss thee ? 
 and when I struck him down, did you not bid 
 him fly ? 
 
 Zer. No! no indeed when I heard your 
 voice, terrified, I flew from my concealment, 
 and Juan then surprized me but are you hurt, 
 Masetto ? 
 
 Mas. More by your unkindness, than his 
 blows. 
 
 Zer. Why will you let this foolish jealousy 
 betray you into trouble ? But all will be well, 
 soon ; only cherish the heart that loves you, 
 Masetto, and you will find in it, an unfailing 
 balm for distrust and suspicion. 
 
32 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 SONG Zerlina. 
 
 List ! and I'll find, Love, 
 If you are kind, Love, 
 Balm for your mind, Love, 
 Patient but be; 
 
 This balm so pure, Love, 
 Simple and sure, Love, 
 Sweet to endure, Love, 
 None know but me. 
 
 Thrilling and healing, 
 Over thee stealing* 
 Exquisite feeling, 
 
 Meant but for thee ! 
 
 To thy entreating 
 
 I'll yield it, dear ! 
 Feel how 'tis beating, 
 
 Beating just here ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 Moonlight A Cemetery The Tomb of Don 
 Pedro, surmounted by his Statue on Horse- 
 back. 
 
 Enter DON JUAN laughing, followed by 
 LEPOUELLO. 
 
 DonJ. Hal ha! ha ! poor Leporello ! thou 
 art still alive. 
 
 Lep. No thanks to you were I beaten to a 
 mummy, you care not. 
 
 Don J. Come, come, this shall make all 
 we ll 'tis a sovereign remedy for your complaint 
 (holding out a purse). 
 
 Lep. Ey ! no I'm not to be bribed, like the 
 weaker sex what is it ? 
 
THE LIBERTNE. S3 
 
 Don J. A plaister for bruised bones. 
 
 Lep. How much ? 
 
 Don J. Ten pistoles. 
 
 Lcp. Enough! 
 
 Don J. Quite, for a broken coxcomb! What 
 a lovely night is here! " The air, methinks, 
 breathes a delicious balm, and nature now, 
 looks soft and bright as the relenting glance 
 of some cold beauty, warmed and won to love. 
 
 <f Lep. More raptures! more ravings! I wish 
 I'd a remedy for you." 
 
 Don J. Why, such a night as this, was made- 
 for amorous enterprise! yet the hue and cry 
 without might make it troublesome to venture. 
 
 Lep. The what! the hue and cry! 
 
 Don J. Hark ye! Leporello 1 there are cer- 
 tain envious knaves abroad to-night, that seek 
 to mar the sports they'd fain enjoy. Your 
 lynx-eyed alguazil keeps watch. We must not 
 yet move hence. 
 
 Lep. Why, where are we? (Looking round) 
 Oh! worse and worse! if there's one place I dis- 
 like more than another, its a church-yard by 
 night, and in such company! (Aside). 
 
 Don J. What's that you mutter ? 
 
 cc Lep. Oh! if you would but take warning > 
 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. 
 
 <f Delay shall not make punishment less cer- 
 Jain ; better that an act of even-handed justice 
 should expose him to the world a terrible ex- 
 ample, than that he should fall obscurely the 
 victim of intemperate rage." 
 
 Enter ELVIRA. 
 
 Elv. Where is he ? Where is Octavio? Oh, 
 cruel roan ! what hast thou done? Do not 
 avoid, but answer me Who are those dread- 
 ful men, that I now passed ? 
 
 Oct. The ministers of justice. 
 
 Elv. And their purpose? 
 
 Oct. To bring a criminal to justice Don 
 Juan. 
 
 Elv. He is my husband ! Octavio! he is my 
 husband ! 
 
 Leon. And can Elvira pity him? 
 
 " Elv. Oh! who would not pity him? Who 
 \vould not feel compassion for a wretch, so lost 
 as he is'? stained with every crime, that human 
 nature shudders but to think of; accursed by 
 
38 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 man, renounced by heaven, no sins repented, 
 lost to all comfort here, bereft of every hope 
 hereafter 
 
 " Leon* What would you ask ? 
 
 " Elv. Do not mistake; I plead not for his 
 life, but for his guilty soul Oh, give him time 
 for penitence spare him but for that! 
 
 ff Oct. He has a heart that penitence can 
 never touch. The outraged laws of justice and 
 humanity must be appeased, Don Pedro's 
 death revenged." 
 
 Elv. Vengeance is heaven's, and should not 
 be usurped by man. 
 
 Oct. Elvira, think what it is you ask ; reflect, 
 how impossible for me to grant. 
 
 Elv. Oh Juan, Juan ! are all men's hearts 
 obdurate as thine own! Ah! how arn I debased, 
 how is Elvira sunk, when she would save the 
 life, that has rendered her's a curse? But 
 there is a way yes, once again I'll see him, 
 see him for the last time then, in a Convent's 
 gloom, bury ray disgrace and shame for ever. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Oct. Poor Elvira ! how the strong passions 
 of affection and disgust rend her distracted 
 breast! 
 
 Enter MASETTO and ZERLINA. 
 
 Mas. Ah, this is fortunate ; 'tis Don Oc- 
 tavio! 
 
 Oct. Masetto! Zerlina too! 
 
 Zer. Pray, pray, Sir, befriend us! 
 
 Oct. Most willingly; but what has happened, 
 that Elvira should so suddenly appear in Se- 
 ville ? Could not her protection screen you from 
 the arts of that abandon'd miscreant? 
 
LIBERTINE. 39 
 
 Zer. Oh no! while Juan lives, there is no 
 safety for the innocent, no refuge for Zerlina. 
 
 Mas. He respects no tie of kindred or affec- 
 tion ; no law of earth or heaven The pea- 
 sant's cottage, and the regal palace, are alike 
 indifferent, when his base passions prompt him to 
 assail them. Not even our holy church, wherein 
 he never trod, except for sanctuary, can stop 
 his guilty course, 
 
 Oct. Come, then with me; the arms of my 
 Leonora shall be henceforth Zerlina's safeguard 
 Octavio, Masetto's friend. 
 
 Zer. Oh, unexpected happiness ! 
 
 Mas. Signor, our hearts must thank you 
 we are ill schooled in words. 
 
 [Exit Masetto. 
 
 Oct. I know your worth, and value it. Hasten 
 to Leonora, and prepare her to receive us. 
 Juan's career of wickedness is nearly closed, 
 and ne'er again shall wound our friendship or 
 affection. 
 
 DUET Zerlina and Octavio. 
 
 Zerl. The purest flame this bosom warming, 
 
 My thrilling- heart, with love shall glow, 
 Oct. And heav'nly truth each doubt disarming, 
 
 The sweetest balm of life bestow. 
 Both. Hail, sacred pow'r, indulgent prove! 
 
 We bow before thine altar, Love ! 
 ZerL For ever now our fates combining, 
 
 With blooming flow'rs thy ahrine adorn, 
 Oct. And while the wreath of Hope we're twining, 
 
 Oh! grant the rose, but spare the thorn 
 Both. Vows so pure let none destroy, 
 We all earthly bliss enjoy. 
 
40 THE LIBERTINE. 
 
 SCENE THE LAST. 
 
 I 
 
 A magnificent Saloon, Illuminated by Chan- 
 deliers ; Tables superbly decorated for a 
 JBanquet, $c. $c. 
 
 Enter DON JUAN and LEPORELLQ. 
 
 Don J. Well, Leporeljo, what think yoii of 
 my preparations ? Will they not honor the oc- 
 casion ? 
 
 Lep. Grand, very grand! but, somehow, I 
 never was less inclined to see company. I have 
 no affection for the guests you have invited. 
 
 Don J. Why, they are fair and courteous, 
 the very paragons of womankind, culled from 
 the choicest Dames in Spain. You would not 
 have me set Don Pedro down alone ? 
 
 Lep. Ah! if you love me, do not talk of him! 
 I'll never trouble your Worship with another 
 request, if you'll be graciously pleased to dis- 
 pense with my service this evening. 
 
 DonJ. Sirrah, if you demur, I'll make you 
 eat at the same table. 
 
 ^ Lep. Thank you, all the same ; but this is 
 fast-day with me I'm not hungry. 
 
 Don J. I'll have you sing to entertain him, 
 too. 
 
 Lep. Sing! I'm hoarse; I caught cold in the 
 church-yard besides, I never sing in company, 
 never! 
 
 Don J. I'll warrant you; but 'tis past the 
 time I fear me, he'll not come. 
 
 Lep. I hope with all my soul he's better en- 
 gaged! yet, if a Statue can move its head, I 
 see no reason upon earth, why it shouldn't move 
 its legs. 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 41 
 
 Don J. Pboh 'twas a vile deception. Oh! 
 he'll not come., I warrant. 'Tis past twelve 
 o'clock. 
 
 Lep. Past twelve ! I'm alive again! we are 
 safe! your Ghosts never go abroad after mid- 
 night morning air doesn't agree with them 
 fe Shall I call up the music ? (eagerly). 
 
 fe Don J. To what end ? you never sing in 
 company ? 
 
 " Lep. My hoarseness is better. Let me or- 
 der supper. 
 
 tf DonJ. Supper! why, this is your fast-day. 
 
 f< Lep. You forget past twelve o'clock ! 
 breakfast now. 
 
 " Don J. But you are not hungry. 
 
 (f Lep. My voice and appetite are wonderfully 
 recovered so" have in the Music, admit the 
 Ladies, serve up the Feast, call for what you 
 will I'm up to any thing. Past twelve o'clock! 
 Oh! 
 
 Don J. Why, you talk now like a Bon-vi- 
 vant! a Bacchanalian! and you talk well, Le- 
 porello! 
 
 tc Whate'er the joys of temperate mortals be, 
 *< Women and wine, and minstrelsy for me." 
 
 Come, the music and the banquet, there! 
 
 (The draperies that conceals the Band, at 
 this instant are drawn up, and a burst 
 of Music introduce the Company, who 
 are all Ladies. Leporello ushers them 
 in t and Don Juan welcomes them joy- 
 ously they raise their Veils, one after 
 the other, and Juan compliments each on 
 her appearance, till he has noticed the 
 ivholt group). 
 
 G 
 
42 1'HE LIBERTINE. 
 
 So ! my happiness is now complete, and 
 not a wish remains. 
 
 Lep. One more 
 
 DonJ. What? 
 
 Lep. Woman. 
 
 Don J. Is she handsome ? 
 
 Lep. Can't say- she's modest. 
 
 Don J. Ah ! That's why you let her in. 
 
 Lep. Exactly* 
 
 ( Elvira has entered in a religious habit, 
 and throws up her Veil as she advances). 
 
 DonJ. Elvira! 
 
 Elv. Do not he surprized, Don Juan, that 
 you see me here at such an hour, and in such 
 apparel the motive that has brought me to thy 
 presence, needs no excuse admits of no delay. 
 Listen, then, for the last time ! Listen to that 
 , voice you never will hear more ! I come not to 
 upbraid you, Juan; I am no longer that Elvira, 
 whose irritated mind breathed nothing but re- 
 proaches; 'tis perfect, pure affection, that im- 
 pels me now to warn you of the precipice on 
 which you stand. 
 
 Don J. How that dress becomes her! (Apart 
 to Leporello). 
 
 Lep. He has a heart of stone (Apart). 
 
 [Retires. 
 
 Elv. Mark me! the same power that has pu- 
 rified my earthly passions, tells you, by me, 
 that your offence has exhausted all its mercy. 
 
 DonJ. Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Elv. Avoid then, I implore you, while you 
 may, the blow that threatens leave this pol- 
 luted spot abandon these licentious scenes, 
 and spare, oh, spare me the horror of knowing 
 you condemned to punishment eternal. 
 
THE LIBERTINE. 43 
 
 Don J. Pshaw ! I will not listen to't, Elvira. 
 If it please you> 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 
 <Jead! 
 
 (Helen throws herself into AW arms). 
 
 Frank. I grieve that my opportunity of serv- 
 ing those who have so greatly befriended me, 
 is incompatible with their prospects and desires. 
 
OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 77 
 
 Rob. Farewell ! the best wish M'Gregor car* 
 give his friend is, that he may see him no more. 
 
 Helen. A mother's blessing! for the only kind* 
 ness shewn for years to the blood of M'Gregor 
 be upon you ! Now, farewell ! Forget me, and 
 mine forever ! 
 
 Frank. Forget ! 'Impossible ! 
 
 Helen. All may be forgotten but the sense of 
 dishonour, and the desire of vengeance. 
 
 Rob, No more strike ! 
 
 (March The Highlanders Jile through the 
 mouth of the Cave Robert and Hamish 
 M'Gregor stretch forth their hands to 
 Frank, as they pass in the March ; Helen 
 and Rob Roy each take leave of him with 
 cordiality and regret, and exeunt). 
 
 Frank. What a wayward fate 4 is mine ! My 
 father's peace of mind is happily restored, but 
 mine, with Diana, is for ever lost ! 
 
 (Rashleigh appears at the back of the Cave, 
 and seeing Frank, conceals himself). 
 
 What noise ? surely I heard No, they have left 
 me ! 
 
 (The Boats are seen passing the Loch with 
 the Highlanders). 
 
 They are passing the Loch I shall see them 
 no more ! 
 
 DIANA VERNON and Sir FREDERICK rush in % 
 greatly alarmed. 
 
 Diana. Gone! M'Gregor Helen our friends 
 gone ! 
 
 Sir Fred. Embarked already ! then my course 
 is ended ! 
 
 Frank. Amazement ! Diana Vernon, and 
 
78 ROB ROY MACGREGOR ; 
 
 Diana. Her father! her unhappy, her wretched 
 father ! Oh Frank ! we are beset by enemies on 
 every side ; the only path by which we could 
 escape, is guarded. 
 
 Frank. No danger shall befa! you here. 
 
 Sir Fred. Do not involve yourself in my fate 
 protect my child, but leave me to suffer ; I am 
 familiar with danger, and prepared to meet it 
 
 RASHLEIGH advances. 
 
 Rash. Meet it then here. 
 All. Rashleigh ! 
 
 (Diana turns from him, to her Father's arms). 
 
 Rash. Ay, I come to repay the various obliga- 
 tions conferred on me by my friends. (He beck- 
 ons on Lancie Wingfield, Jobson, &fc. cf?c.) Ap- 
 prehend Sir Frederick Vernon, an attainted trai- 
 tor, Diana Vernon, and Francis Osbaldistone, 
 aiders and abettors of treason. 
 
 Frank. Rashleigh, thou art too a great villain 
 for words to speak thee. 
 
 Rash. I can forgive your spleen, my gentle 
 cousin it is hard to lose an estate and a mistress 
 in one night. Take charge of your prisoners 
 if my conduct displeases you, Lady, thank your 
 minion there. 
 
 Frank. I never gave you cause. 
 
 Rash. 'Tis false ! in love, in ambition, in the 
 paths of interest, you have crossed and blighted 
 me at every turn. I was born to be the honour 
 of my father's house I have been its destruction, 
 and disgrace my very patrimony has become 
 yours ; but, if you ever live to possess it, the 
 death-curse of him you have thus injured, stick 
 to it ! Ah ! 
 
 Rob. Gregarach ! 
 
OR, AULD LANG SYNE! 79 
 
 (Rob darts in, and confronts Rashleigh, who 
 instantly levels a Pistol at him it flashes 
 in the pan Highlanders, led by Dougal, 
 appear at the mouth of the Cave Rash- 
 leigh's party shout " Rob Roy !" and 
 defend themselves, merely to effect their re- 
 treat, Dougal attacking Lancie, &c. &c.) 
 
 Rob. Now ask mercy, for your soul's sake ! 
 Rash. Never ! (Standing on his guard). 
 Rob. Claymore ! die, traitor, in your treason ! 
 
 (Short and rapid combat Rashleigh falls, 
 and is caught by Dougal, who returns at 
 the moment, and by signal from Rob, , is 
 borne off Helen, with Females, enter 
 towards the close of the tumult 9 and Bailie 
 Jarvie runs on confused). . 
 
 Bailie. Gude save us ! what's here to do ! I 
 fear I've lost my way. 
 
 Frank. Mr. Jarvie ! I thought you were on 
 the road to Glasgow. 
 
 Bailie. So did I ; but, troth, the whisky has 
 deceived me My Conscience ! to think of a 
 Magistrate losing his head, and losing his horse 
 too ! A little man, called Jobson, dismounted 
 me just now in a trice, and gallop'd off, as though 
 my cousin Helen herself was at his (Sees Helen) 
 My Conscience ! 
 
 Sir Fred. Brave Highlander ! you have saved 
 more than my life you have preserved my honour! 
 You, young man, have proved yourself worthy of 
 my child, and to you I give her. But whence 
 this unexpected aid ? I surely saw the boats de- 
 part. (To Rob.) 
 
 Rob. With half my band, no more. Dougal 
 overheard, and fortunately apprised me of Rash- 
 leigh's intentions, and I kept up the appearance 
 which decoyed the villain to his own snare. 
 
80 
 
 ROB ROY MAdGREGOR. 
 
 Helen. (To Frank) By Sir Frederick Vernon's 
 means your Father's house has been preserved ; 
 that consideration must induce his honourable 
 mind to confirm the gift you prize, and endea- 
 vour to obtain from the Government a remission 
 of the law, in favour of a noble enemy. (Pointing 
 to Sir Frederick). 
 
 Rob. We shall rejoice in your happiness, 
 though we may not share it. If in such mo- 
 ments, you ever think upon M'Gregor, think 
 kindly when you cast a look towards poor old 
 Scotland, do not forget Rob Roy ! 
 
 FINALE. 
 
 Pardon now the bold Outlaw, 
 
 Rob Roy M'Gregor, O ! 
 Grant him mercy, gentles a', 
 
 Rob Roy M'Gregor, O ! 
 Let your hands and hearts agree, 
 Set the Highland Laddie free 
 Mak us sing wi' muckle glee, 
 
 Rob Roy M'Gregor, O! 
 
 Frank. Long the stale had doom'd his fa', 
 
 Rob Roy, &c. 
 Still he spurn'd thehatefu' law, 
 
 Rob Roy, &c. 
 
 Scots can for their country die, 
 Ne'er from Britons' foe they flee, 
 A' that's past forget forgie, 
 
 Rob Hoy McGregor, O ! 
 Chorus. Pardon now, &c. 
 
 Diana, Scotland's fear, and Scotland's pride, 
 
 Rob Roy, &c. 
 Your award must now abide, 
 
 Rob Roy, &c. 
 
 Lang your favours ha' been mine, 
 Favours I will ne'er resign 
 Welcome then for auld lang 
 
 Rob Roy M'Gregor, O 1 
 
 Chorus. Pardon now, &c. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 London: Printed bjr Jj. McMillan, 3 
 Motr Streci, Cor en t Garden. \ 
 
RETURN CIRCULATION DEPARTMENT 
 
 TO ^ 202 Main Library 
 
 LOAN PERIOD 1 
 HOME USE 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 ALL BOOKS MAY BE RECALLED AFTER 7 DAYS 
 
 1 -month loans may be renewed by calling 642-3405 
 
 6-month loans may be recharged by bringing books to Circulation Desk 
 
 Renewals and recharges may be made 4 days prior to due date 
 
 DUE AS STAMPED BELOW 
 
 ADT8 DISC MAR 13*9 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY 
 FORM NO. DD6, 60m, 12/80 BERKELEY CA 94720 
 
LIBRARY - U.C. BERI