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Mer. Pr'ythee read this letter, and tell me Fair. My lord, I am very well content ; what you think of it.

pray do not give yourself the trouble of sasTheo. Heavens, 'tis a letter from lord Aim- ing any more. worth! We are betrayed.

Ralph. No, my lord, you need not say Mer. By what means I know not.

any more. Theo. I am so frighted and flurried, that I Fair. Hold your tongue, sirrah. have scarce strength enough to read it. [Reads. Lord A. I am sorry, Patty, you have had

Sir,- It is with the greatest concern I tbis mortification. find that I have been unhappily the occa- Pat. I am sorry, my lor], you have been sion of giving some uneasiness to you and troubled about it. miss Sycamore: be assur'd, had I been ap- Fair. Well, come, children, we will not prised of your prior pretensions, and ihe take up his honour's time any longer; let us young lady's disposition in your favour, I be going towards home-Ileaven prosper should have been the last person to inter- lordship; the prayers of me and my family rupt your felicity. I beg, sip, you will do shall always attend you. me the favour to come up to my house, Lord A. Miller, come back-Patty, staywhere I have already so far settled mat- Fair. Has your lordship any thing further ters, as to be able to assure you, that every to command us? thing will go entirely to your satisfaction. Lord A. Why yes, master Fairfield, I have

Mer. Well, wbat do you think of it?- a word or two still to say to you-In short, Shall we go to the castle ?

though you are satisfied 'in this affair, I am Theo. By all means: and in this very trim; not; aud you seem to forget the promise I to show what we are capable of doing, if my made you, that, since I had been the means father and mother had not come to reason. of losing your daughter one husband, I would

[Ereunt Mervin and Theodosia. find her another. Giles. So, there goes a couple! Icod, I be- Fair. Your honour is to do as you please. lieve old Nick has got among the people in Lord A. What say you, Patty', will you these parts. This is as, queer a thing as ever accept of a husband of my choosing? I heard of.—Master Fairfield and miss Pally, Pat. My lord, I have no determination: it seems, are gone to the castle too; where, you are the best judge bow I ought to act; by what I larns from Ralph in the mill, my whatever you command, I shall obey. lord has promised to get her a husband among Lord A. Then, Pally, there is but one perthe servants. Now set in case the vind sets son I can offer you—and I wish, for your in that corner, I have been thinking with my- sake, he was more deserving~Take me self who the plague it can be: there are no Pat. Sir! unmarried men in the family, that I do know Lord 4. From this moment our interests of, excepting little Bob, the postillion, and are one, as our hearts; and no earthly power master Jonathan, the butler, and he's a mat- shall ever divide us. ter of sixty or seventy years old. I'll be shot Fair. O the gracious! Patty-my lordif it beant little Bob.-Icod, I'll take the way Did I hear right?-You, sir, you marry a to the castle as well as the rest; for I'd fain child of mine! see how the nail do drive. It is well I had Lord A. Yes, my honest old man, in me wit enough to discern things, and a friend to you behold the husband designed for your advise with, or else she would have fallen to daughter; and I am bappy, that by standing my lot.—But I have got a surfeit of going a in the place of fortune, who has alone been courting; and burn me if I won't live a ba-wanting to her, I shall he able to set her chelor; for when all comes to all, I see no- merit in a light where its lustre will be renthing but ill blood and quarrels* among folk dered conspicuous. that are maaried.

Fair. But good, noble sir, pray consider,

don't go to put upon ) a silly old man: my Then hey for a frolicsome life!

daughter is unworihy—Patty, child, why don't I'll ramble where pleasures are rife; you speak?

Strike up with the free-hearted lasses, Pat. What can I say, father? what an And never think more of a wife.

swer to such unlook’d-for, such unmerited, Plague on it, men are but asses, such unbounded generosity ? To run after noise and strife,

Ralph. Down on your knees, and fall a Had we been together buckl’d;

crying. 'Twould have prov'd a fine affair: [Ralph is checked by Fairfield, and they Dogs would have bark'd at the cuckold;

go up the Stage. And boys, pointing, cry'd-Look there! Pat. Yes, sir, as my father says, consider

[Exit. - your noble friends, your relations-It must

not, cannot be Scene IV.- A grand Apartment in LORD Lord A. It must and shall-Friends! relaAIWORTH's House, opening to a View Lions! from henceforth I have none, that will of the Garden.

not acknowledge you; and I am sure, when Enter Lord Aimworth, Fairfield, Patty, they will rather admire the justice of my choice,

they become acquainted with and Ralph.

than wonder at its singularity. Lord A. Thus, master Fairfield, I hope I have fully satisfied you with regard to the Duett.-LORD AIMWORTH and PATTY. falsity of the imputation thrown upon your Lord A. My life, my joy, my blessias, daughter and me

; To take advantage, to deceive.

AIR.

your perfections,

FINALE.

In thee each grace possessing

Enter Giles.
All must my choice approve.

Giles. Ods bobs, where am I running-I
Pat. . To you my all is owing; beg pardon for my audacity.
O! take a heart o’erflowing

Ralph. Hip, farmer; come back, mon, come With gratitude and love. back-Sure my lord's going to marry sister Lord A. Thus infolding,

bimself, feyther's to have a fine house, and Thus beholding,

I'm to be a captain. Both. One to my soul so dear; Lord A. Ho, master Giles, pray walk in ;

Can there be pleasure greater? here is a lady who, I dare say, will be glad Can there be bliss completer ? to see you, and give orders thal you shall 'Tis too much to bear.

always be made welcome,

Ralph. Yes, farmer, you'll always be welEnter Sir HARRY, LADY SYCAMORE, Theo

come in the kitchen. DOSIA, and MERVIN.

Lord A. What, have you nothing to say Sir H. Well

, we have followed your lord- to your old acquaintance-Come, pray let the ship's counsel, and made the best of a bad farmer salute you—Nay, a kiss-i insist upmarket-So, my lord, please to know our on it. son-in-law that is to be.

Sir H. Ha, ha, ha-hem! Lord A. You do me a great deal of honour Lady S. Sir Harry, I am ready to sink at -I wish you joy, sir, with all my hearl.And the monstrousness of your behaviour. now, sir Harry, give me leave to introduce Lord A. Fie, master Giles, don't look so to you a new relation of mine–This, sir, is sheepish; you and I were rivals, but not less shortly to be my wife.

friends at present. You have acted in this Sir H. My lord !

affair like an honest Englishman, wo scorned Lady S. Your lordship's wife!

even the shadow of dishonour, and thou shalt Lord A. Yes, madam.

sit rent-free for a twelvemonth. Lady S. And why so, my lord ?

Sir H. Come, shan't we all salute-With Lord A. Why, faith, ma'am, because I can't your leave, my lord, I'll — live happy without her-And I think she has Lady S. Sir Harry! too many amiable, too many estimable qualities to meet with a worse fate.

Lord A. Yield who will to forms a martyr, Sir H. Well, but you are a peer of the

While unaw'd by idle shame, realm; you will have all the fleerers

Pride for happiness I barter, Lord A. I know very well the ridicule that

Hecdless of the millions' blame. may be thrown on a lord's marrying a mill- i Thus with love my arms I quarter; er's daughter; and I own with blushes it has

Women grac'd in nature's frame, for some time had too great weight with me: Ev'ry privilege, by charter, but we should marry to please ourselves, not

Have a right from man to claim. other people; and, on mature consideration, Theo. Eas'd of doubts and fears presaging, I can see no reproach justly merited by rais

Whai new joys within me rise ; ing a deserving woman to 'a station she is

While mamma, her frowns assuaging, capable of adorning, let her birth be what

Dares no longer tyrannise. it will.

So long storms and tempests raging, Sir H. Why 'tis very true, my lord. I once

When the blust'ring fury dies, knew a gentleman that married his cook-maid:

Ah, how lovely, how engaging,, he was a relation of my own-You remember

Prospects fair, and cloudless skies! fat Margery, my lady. She was a very good Sir H. Dad, but this is wondrous pretty, sort of woman, indeed she was, and made

Singing each a roundelay; the best suet dumplings I cver tasted.

And I'll mingle in the ditty, Lady S. Will you never learn, sir Harry,

Though I scarce know what to say. lo guard your expressions?--Well, but give There's a daughter brisk and witty me leave, my lord, to say a word to you.

Here's a wife can wisely sway: There are other ill consequences attending Trust me, masters, 'twere a pity, such an alliance.

Not to let them have their way. Lord A. One of them I suppose is, that I, Pai. My example is a rare one; a peer, should be obliged to call this good

But the cause may be divin'd: old miller father-in-law. But where's the shame

Women want not merit-dare one in that? He is as good as any lord in being Hope discerning men to find. a man; and if we dare suppose a lord that 0! inay each accomplish'd fair one, is not an honest man, he is, in my opinion,

Brighi in person, sage in mind, the more respectable character. Come, master

Viewing my good fortune, share one Fairfield, give me your hand; from hence

Full as splendid, and as kind. forth you have done with working: we will Ralph. Captain Ralph my lord will dub me, pull down your mill, and build you a house Soon I'll mount a huge cockade; in the place of it; and the money I intended

Mounseer sball powder, queue, and for the portion of your daughter, shall now be laid out in purchasing a commission for

'Gad, I'll be a roaring blade,

If Fan shall offer once to snub me, Ralph. What, my lord, will you make me

Wben in scarlet all array'd; a captain ?

Or my feather dare to drub me, Lord A. Ay, a colonel, if you deserve it.

Frown your worst-but who's afraid? Ralph. Then I'll keep Fan.

Giles. Laugh’d'at, slighted, circumvented,

'club me,

your son.

And exposed for folks to see't

,

Since the fales have thought them meet;
Tis as tho'f a man repented

This good company contented,
For his follies in a sheet.

All my wishes are complete.
But my wrongs go unresented,

[Exeunt

GEORGE COLMAN JUNIOR Js the son of the author of The Clandestine Marriage. With the precise time of his birth we are unacquainted; but we suppose il to have been about the year 1767. He received his early education at Mr, Fountain's academy in Mary, bone, at that time in high estimation. 'He was next sent to Westminster School, and afterwards entered at Christcharh College, Oxford; but, for what reason we know not, he finished his education at King's College, Old Aberdeen ; whence he returned to London, and was entered of the Temple; with the design, it is said, to qualify him for the bar. But if sn, he early in life resigned Coke and Littleton in Invour of the Muses. The consciousness of literary talents, and an casy access lo the public through the medium of his father's theatre, naturally directed his attention to the drama; and his parent seemed to foster his genius; as he, in the prologue to the first play of his son's, announced him as "* chip of the old block.” When his father was scized with that malady which rendered him incapable of snperintending the theatre, Mr. Colman evinced a most commendable filial allection, by the great attention that he paid to bim and to the interests of his theatre, On the death of his father, His Majesty was pleased to transfer the palent to him; and he has discharged the duties of manager with zoal and alacrity towards the public, and liberalily towards authors and actors. In private life Mr. Colman is social, convivial, and intelligent; and in the playful contentions of wit and humour, ond particularly that agreeable coruscation called reparlee, he may perhaps be equalled, but, we think, has rarely been excelled. !n his heroic pieces, we observe a poetical rigour, a form of language, and a cast of sentiment, that forcibly remind us of the very best of our ancient dramatic writers. In the spring of the year 1997, Mr, Colma published My Nightgown and Slippers, a thin quarto, consisting of some amusing poetical trilles. In prologue and epilogue, we cannot better compare Mr. Colman with any one than with the late Mr. Garrick. His compositions ia this way are very abundant, and excellent in their kind.

INKLE AND YARICO,

Opera by George Colman jun. 1787. The great success this Opera in every thcatre in Kingdom, sio its first representation al lhe Haymarket, is justified hy ils real merit. The dialogue is not a collection of trite eommon places, to connect tho masic; but is replete with iaste, judgment, and manly feeling; the allusions to slavery (now so bobly abolished) correspond with every Britislı, cvery liberal, mind. The mal-d-propos oller of Inkle to sell his Yarics to Sir Christopher, is an admirable incidenı; and indeed all the characters are as forcibly drawn, that the most trifting part is ell'eclive. - The pathetic story of Inkle and Yarico first attracted sympathy, from the narrative of Mr. Addison, in the Specialor: to that affecting story, Mr. Colman was indebied only for the cold, calculating Inkle; and the gentle, affcctionale Yarico;-the rest of the characters and the developement of the whole are offspring of his abundant investice.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
INKLE,
CAMPLEY. TRUDGE. YARICO,

WOWSKI.
SIR CHRISTOPHER CURRY. MEDIUM.

MATE.

NARCISSA. PATTY.
SCENE.–First, on the Main of America: afterwards, in Barbadoes.

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ACT I.

to bring all the natives about us; and we shall SCENE I.-An American forest.

be stripped and plundered in a minute.

Trudge, Aye; stripping is the first thing Med. [Without] Hilli ho! ho! that would happen to us; for they seem to be Trudge. [Without] Hip! hollo! ho!– Hip!- woefully off for a wardrobe. ('myself saw

three, at a distance, with less clothes than I Enter Medium and TRUDGE.

have when I get out of bed: all dancing about Med, Pshaw! it's only wasting time and in black buff; just like Adam in mourning. breath. Bawling won't persuade him to budge

Med. This is to have to do with a scbemer! a bit faster. Things are all altered now; and, a fellow who risques his life, for a chance of whatever weight it may have in some places, advancing, his interest.-Always advantage in bawling, it seems,

don't

go for argument, here. view! trying, here, to make discoveries that Plague on't! .we are now in the wilds of may promote his profit in England. Anotber America.

Botany Bay scheme, mayhap. Nothing else Trudge. Hip, billio-ho-hi!

could induce him to quit our foraging, party, Med. Hold your tongue, you blockhead, or- from the ship; when he knows every inbabi

Trudge. Lord! sir, if my master makes no tant here is not only as black as a peppermore haste, we shall all be put to sword by corn, but as bot into the bargain-and I like the knives of the natives. I'm told they take a fool, to follow him! and then to let bim off heads like hals, and hang 'em on pegs in loiter behind. Why, nephew! why, lokle! their parlours. Mercy on us! my head aches with the very thoughts of it. Holó! Mr. Inkle! Trudge. Why, Inkle-Well! only to see master; holo!

the difference of 'men! he'd have thought it Med. Head aches! zounds, so docs mine very hard, now, if I had let him call so often with your confounded bawling. It's enough after me. Ah! I wish he was calling after

[Calling me now, in the old jog-trot way, again., expensive plan for a trader, truly. What, What a fool was I, to leave London for would you have a man of business come foreign parts!—That ever I should leave Thread-abroad, scamper extravagantly here and there needle-street, to thread an American forest, and every where, then return home, and have where a man's as soon lost as a needle in a nothing to tell, but that he has been here and bottle of hay!

there, and every where? 'sdeath, sir, would Med. Patience, Trudge! patience! If we you have me travel like a lord? Travelling, once recover the ship

uncle, was always intended for improvement; Trudge. Lord, sir, I shall never recover and improvement is an advantagt; and adé what I have lost in coming abroad. When vantage is profit, and profit is gain. Which, my master and I were in London, I had such in the travelling translation of a trader, means, a 'mortal snug birth of it! why, I was factotum. that you should gain every advantage of imMed. Factotum to a young merchant is no proving your profit

. I have been comparing such sinecure, neither.

the land, here, with that of our own country. Trudge. But then the honour of it. Think Med. And you find it like a good deal of of that, sir; to be clerk as well as own man. the land of our own country - cursedly enOnly consider. You find very few city clerks cumbered with black legs?), 1 take il. made out of a man'), now-a-days. To be Inkle. And calculating how much it might king of the counting-house, as well as lord be made to produce by the acre. of the bed-chamber. Ab! if I had him but Med. You were ? now in the little dressing room behind the Inkle. Ws; I was proceeding algebraically office; tying bis bair, with a bit of red tape, upon the subject. as usual.

Med. Indeed! Med. Yes, or writing an invoice with lamp- Inkle. And just about extracting the square black, and shining his shoes with an ink-bottle, root. as usual, you blundering blockhead!

Med. Hum! Trudge. Ob! if I was but brushing the ac- Inkle. I was thinking too, if so many nacounts, or casting up the coats! mercy on us! lives could be caught, how much they might what's that?

fetch at the West Indian markets. Med. That! what?

Med. Now let me ask you a question, or Trudge. Did'nt you hear a noise ? two, young cannibal catcher, if you please.

Med. Y-es - but -hush! Oh, heavens be Inkle. Well. praised! here he is at last.

Med. Aren't we bound for Barbadoes; partly

to trade, but chiefly to carry home the daughter Enter INKLE.

of the governor, Sir Christopher Curry, who Now, nephew?

has till now been under your father's care, Inkle. So, Mr. Medium.

in Threadneedle-street, for polite English eduMed. Zounds, one would think, by your cation? confounded composure, that you were walking Inkle. Granted. in St. James's Park, instead of an American Med. And isn't it determined, between the Forest; and that all the beasts were nothing old folks, that you are to marry Narcissa as but good company. The hollow trees, here, soon as we get there? centry boxes, and the lions in 'em soldiers; Inkle. A fixed thing. the jackalls, courtiers; the crocodiles, fine Med. Then what the devil do you do here, women; and the baboons, beaus. What the bunting old hairy negroes, when you ought plague made you loiter so long?

to be ogling a fine girl in the ship?, Algebra, Inkle. Reflection.

too! you'll have other things to think of when Med. So I should think; reflection generally you are married, I promise you. A plodding comes lagging behind. What, scheming, 1 fellow's head, in the hands of a young wife, suppose; never quiet. At it again, eh: what like a boy's slate after school, soon gets all a happy trader is your father, io have so pru- its arithmetic wiped off: and then it appears dent a son for a partner! why, you are the in its true simple stale; dark, empty, and carefullest Co. in the whole city. Never losing bound in wood, Master Inkle. sight of the main chance; and that's the rea- Inkle. Not in a match of this kind. Why, son, perhaps, you lost sight of us, here, on it's a table of interest from beginning to end, the main of America.

old Medium. Inkle. Right, Mr. Medium. Arithmetic, I Med. Well, well, this is no time to talk. own, has been the means of our parting at Who knows but, instead of sailing to a wedpresent.

ding, we may get cut up, bere, for a wedding Trudge. Ha! a sum in division, I reckon. dinner: tossed up for a dingy duke perhaps,

[Aside. or stewed. down for a black baronet, or eat Med. And pray, if I may be so bold, what raw by an inky commoner? mighty scheme has just tempted you to em- Inkle. Why, sure, you aren't afraid ? ploy your head, when you ought to make Med. Who, I afraid! ba! ha! ha! no, not use of

I! what the deuce should I be afraid of? tbank Inkle. My heels! here's pretty doctrine! do heaven, I have a clear conscience, and need you think I' travel merely for motion ? a fine not be afraid of any thing. A scoundrel might 1) Double entendre. The second meaning, generally given not be quite so easy on such an occasion;

.

your heels?

by the actor with an arch look at the upper-boxes, but it's the part of an honest man not to bethe place of resort of the London clerks at the The-bare like a scoundrel: I never behaved like a atres, is, that there are very few clerks really men now-a-days, they being rather dandyish and effemi- 1) Black legs, (slang) for Gameslers; and the blacks, or

negroes, have, of course, black legs.

nate in thcir dress.

scoundrel--for which reason I am an honest|And the Eagle, I warrant you, looks like a man, you know. But come-I hate to boast

goose. of my good qualities. Inkle. Slow and sure, my good, virtuous,

But we merchant lads, tho' the foe we can't Mr. Medium! our companions can be but half

maul, a mile before us: and, if we do but double Nor are paid, like fine king-ships, to fight at

a call, their steps, we shall overtake 'em at one mile's end, by all the powers of arithmetic.

Why we pay ourselves well, without lighting

at all. " Med. Oh, curse your arithmetic! how are we to find our way?

1st Sail. Avast! look a-head there. Here Inkle. That, uncle, must be left to the doc- they come, chased by a fleet of black devils, trine of chances.

[Exeunt. Midsh. And the devil a fire have I to give Scene II.-Another part of the Forest. A

'em. We han't a grain of powder left. What ship at anchor in the bay, at a small

must we do, Jad?

2nd Sail. Do? sheer off, to be sure. distance.

AN. Come, bear a band, Master MarlinEnter Sailors and Mate, as returning from spike! foraging.

Midsh. [Reluctantly] Well, if I must, Mate. Come, come, bear a hand ?), my must [Going to the other side and halloing lads. Tho'f the bay is just under our bow-to Inkle, etc.) Yoho, lubbers! crowd all the sprits, il will take a damned deal of tripping sail you can, d'ye mind me! (E.cit. to come at it-there's hardly any steering clear of the rocks here. But do we muster all Enter Medium, running, as pursued by hands? all right, think ye?

the Blacks. 1st Sail. All to a man - besides yourself, Med. Nephew! Trudge! run scamper! and a monkey-the three land lubbers 2), that scour-fly! zounds, what barm did I ever do, edged away in the morning, goes for nothing, to be hunted to death by a pack of bloodyou know--they're all dead may-hap, by this hounds? why, nephew! Ob, confound your

Mate. Dead! you be-why, they're friends long sums in arithmetic! I'll take care of my. of the captain; and, if not brought safe aboard self; and if we must have any arithmetic, dot to-night, you may all chance to bave a salt and carry one for my money. [Runs off. eel for your supper- that's all. - Moreover, the young plodding spark, be with the grave,

Enter Inkle and TRUDGE, hastily. foul-weather face, there, is to man the tight Trudge. Oh! that ever I was born, to leave little frigate, Miss Narcissa, what d'ye call her, pen, ink, and powder, for this ! that is bound with us for Barbadoes. Rot 'em Inkle. Trudge, how far are the sailors befor not keeping under

way,
I say! but come,

fore us? let's see if a song will bring 'em to. Let's Trudge. I'll run and see, sir, directly. have a full chorus to the good merchant ship, Inkle. Blockhead, come here. The savages the Achilles, that's wrote by our Captain. are close upon us; we shall scarce be able to The Achilles, though christend, good ship, trees with me; they'll pass us, and we may

recover our party. Get behind this tuft of 'tis surmis'd, From that old man of war, great Achilles, so

then recover our ship with safety: priz'd,

Trudge. [Going behind Oh! ''breadneedleWas he, like our vessel, pray, fairly baptiz’d?

street, Tbread!

Inkle: Peace.
Ti tol lol, etc.

Trudge. [Hiding] needle-street. Poels sung that Achilles — if, now, they've an [They hide behind trees. Natives cross itch

After a long pause, Inkle looks To sing this, future ages may know which is from the trees. which;

Inkle. Trudge. And that one rode in Greece-and the other Trudge. Sir.

[In a whisper in pitch.

Inkie. Are they all gone by? What tho' but a merchant ship — sure our

Trudge. Won't you look and see? supplies:

Inkle. (Looking round] So, all's safe at Now your men of war's gain in a lottery lies, last. [Coming forward] Nothing like policy And how blank they all look, when they can't in these cases; but you'd have run on, like a get a prize!

booby! A tree, I faucy, you'll find, in future, What are all their fine names? when no

the best resource in a hot pursuit. rhino's behind,

Trudge. Oh, charming! It's a retreat for a The Intrepid, and Lion, look sheepish, you'll

king ), sir. Mr. Medium, however, has not find;

got up in it; your uncle, sir, has run on like Whilst, alas! the poor Aeolus can't raise the this time, I take it; who are now most likely

à booby; and has got up with our party by wind!

at the shore. But what are we to do next, sir? Then the Thunderer's dumb; out of tune the Inkle. Reconnoitre a little, and then proceed. Orpheus;

Trudge. Then pray, sir, proceed to reconThe Cercs bas nothing at all to produce; noilre; for, the sooner the better.

Inkle. Then look out, d'ye hear, and tell 1) Make haste,

me if you discover any danger. >>) The elegant denomination given by sailors to persons not belonging to the sea, in show their superlative

Trudge. Y-ye-s-yes; bul—[Trembling.' contempt for every thing on dry land,

1) Charles ed. hid himself in a trec.

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