by reason actions in which it had no share? Brid. Ugh, ugh-at church, sir, his brain is indubitably touched. But Cecilia Gov. H. At church, quotha! A pretty place lies heavy on my heart, and excludes every to commence an intrigue in!-And how long other thought. was it before you came to this admirable Capt. H. Time may explain the secret of agreement? that letter, which, I will lay my life, she Brid. Um-why, Sunday was Midsummerdespises: a woman who did not, would have eve, and Sunday after was madam's weddingkept it from your hands. day, and Monday was our fair, and— Gov. H. Oh, curse your long histories!And what then said Woodville? Brid. Oh Lord, nothing at all; why, it warn't he. Wood. That's true, indeed! If I wrong her, and this was but an insult, there is a noble sincerity in her own letter which sets suspicion at defiance. If he stumbled on one word of truth during this visit, the crisis of my fate Gov. H. Ho! Who, who, who? Tell me approaches. Oh, wherever thou art, if the that, and quite distract me! exalted being I will still hope my Cecilia, thou shalt know I have at least deserved thee! ACT V. [Exeunt. [Ready to burst with Passion. Brid. Timothy Hobbs, squire's gardener. Gov. H. An absolute clown! [Walks about, half groaning with rage and disappointSCENE I. A mean Room; Boots, Bridles, ment] Who, oh, who would be a father?etc. hanging all round. I could laugh-cry-die- with shame and anger!-Since the man who corrupted left her BRIDGET discovered sitting very mournfully, only one virtue, would he had deprived her her fine Clothes in great Disorder; a of that too! Oh, that she had but skill enough Table by her, with a small Roll, a Glass to lie well! of Water, an old dog's-ear'd Book, and Brid. Whether I can or no, I'll never speak a bit of a Looking-glass. truth again, that's a sure thing. What do I Brid. Dear heart! dear heart! what a mise-get by it, or any poor souls of the female rable time have I passed! and where I be to kind?' [Aside. pass my whole life, my lord here only knows. Gov. H. 1 am incapable of thinking.—Every I have not much stomach indeed; neither have plan, every resource thus overturned. I must I much breakfast. be wiser than all the world; this fool's head [Eats a bit of Bread, and bursts into Tears. of mine must take to teaching truly! as if I could eradicate the stamp of nature, or reguEnter GOVERNOR HARCOURT. late the senses, by any thing but reason.Gov. H. Had I more sins to answer for than Don't pipe, baggage, to me! You all can do a college of Jesuits, I surely expiate them all, that, when too late. When I have considered by going through a purgatory in this life whether I shall hang myself or not, I'll let beyond what they have invented for the other. you know whether I shall tuck you up along This vulgar maux of mine haunts my imagi- with me, you little wretch you! [Exit nation in every shape but that I hoped to see Brid. Well, sure I have at last guessed her in; I dare hardly trust myself to speak where I am shut up! It must be Bedlam; for to her. 'Od, I would not have the extirpation the old gentleman is out of his mind, that's a of the whole female sex depend upon my sure thing. casting vote while I am in this humour. Enter VANE, Brid. Mercy on me, here's that cross old gentleman again! What will become of me? Vane. Ha, ha, ha! my future father-in-law [Aside] Do pray, strange sir, be so generous seems to have got a quietus of my intended: as to tell me what is next to be done with me? and, faith, so would any man who was not Goo. H. Why, just whatever I please, you in love with a certain forty thousand. To be audacious baggage.-'Od, now I think on't, I sure, in plain English, she is a glorious mawhave a great mind to try a few soft words, kin! [Aside] Well, madam, how are you and dive into all the secrets of the little igno- pleased with your present mode of living? ramus. [Aside] Come, suppose I had a mind Brid. Living, do you call it? I think 'tis to grant you your freedom, how would you only starving. Why, I shall eat my way requite me? through the walls very shortly. Brid. Dear heart, why I'd love you for ever and ever. Vane. Faith, miss, they use you but so so, that's the truth on't: and I must repeat, even Gov. H. Zounds, that's a favour I could to your face, what I said to my lord, that very readily dispense with; and yet 'tis natural your youth, beauty, and accomplishments, deto the poor wench. Ab, if thou hadst been a serve a better fate. good girl, thou hadst been a happy one. Hark. Brid. Dear heart! Bedlam, did I say I was ye, miss! confess all your sins; that's the in? Why, I never knew a more sensibler, only way to escape, I promise you; and if genteeler, prettier sort of a man in my life. you conceal the least, I'll-do-I don't know Aside] I am sure, sir, if I was to study what I'll do to you. seven years, I should never know what I have to be married. Brid. I will, I will, sir, indeed, as I hope done to discommode them, not I. Vane. O Lard, my dear! only what is done Gov. H. Married, you slut! Bad as that is, every day by half your sex without punishit's too good for you.-Come, tell me all your ment; however, you are to suffer for all it adventures. Describe the behaviour of the seems. You see your fare for life! a dungeon, young villain who seduced you.-Where did coarse rags, and the same handsome allowyou see him first? ance of bread and water twice a day. Brid. Oh, dear me! why I shall be an otomy in a week. Wood. While obedience was possible I never swerved, my lord; but when you comVane. And an old black to guard you, more mand me to make myself wretched, a superior sulky and hideous than those in the Arabian duty cancels that: already bound by a volunNight's Entertainments. tary, an everlasting vow, I cannot break it without offending heaven, nor keep it without offending you. Brid. Why, sure they will let you come and see me, sir? I shall certainly swound away every time I look at that nasty old black. Vane. This is the last time your dungeon (which your presence renders a palace to me) will ever be open to one visitor-unlessunless I could contrive but no, it would be my ruin: yet who wouldn't venture something for such a charming creature? you could endear even ruin. Tell me then what reward you would bestow on a man who ventured all to give you freedom? Brid. Nay, I don't know; you're such a dear sweet soul, I shan't stand with you for a trifle. Vane. Ahey! miss will be as much too complying in a minute. [Aside] Well then, my dear! I must marry you, or you will still be in the power of your enemies. Brid. Hey! what? do I hear rightly? marry me? Why, this will be the luckiest day's I work I ever did! [Aside] Nay, sir, if you should be so generous, I hope I shall live to make you amends. Gov. H. What's this? chopped about again! [Aside. Wood. Did you once know the incomparable merits of my love, even your lordship's prejudices must give way to your reason. Lord G. Mere dotage. Doesn't her conduct equally evince her folly and depravity? Wood. Covered, as I ought to be, with confusion and remorse, I will own she was seduced and deceived. Gov. H. Ah, poor boy! [Aside] One of the two was wofully deceived, sure enough. Lord G. Oh, your conscience may be yery easy on that account; it could not require much art to deceive such an idiot. Gov. H. No, no, my lord! Why paint the devil blacker than he is? Not an idiot neither. Wood. Sir, my father's freedom of speech must endure; but yours Gov. H. You must endure too, young sir, or I shall bite my tongue off. Wood. But, my lord! that dear unhappy Vane. The only amends you can make me girl is no longer a subject of debate. She is by dying. [Aside] And now, my dear! I evidently proves her merit by her flight. will own to you I have the license in my Lord G. Would you make a virtue from pocket; and my lord as eager as myself. Our not doing ill, when it is no longer in your chaplain will do us the favour with more power? Woodville! I was once weak enough expedition than he says grace before meat! to believe indulgence the surest way of obWell done, Vane! 'egad, thy lucky star predo-taining your duty and esteem. My eyes are minates! [Aside. Takes her Arm. at last opened. Miss Mortimer is worthy a Brid. Surely my locking up does end very better husband; but you are hers, or no son [Exeunt Arm in Arm. of mine. I solemnly promised this to her dying father, and will acquit myself at all events. SCENE II.-The Drawing-room, Wood. Can you resolve to sacrifice me to Enter GOVERNOR HARCOURT, musing. a promise made before we could judge of Gov. H. I have lived fifty-eight years, five each other? You never felt, sir, the compulmonths, and certain odd days, to find out I sion you practise. Will you dissolve the first a fool at last; but I will live as many band of morality, and see your highly estimated more, before I add the discovery that I am title end in me? for never will I on these terms continue it. comical. am a knave too. Enter CAPTAIN HARCOURT. Capt. H. What the devil can he be now hatching? mischief, "I fear. Lord G. I almost wish I never had continued it. [Walks in Anger] I am determined, Woodville! and nothing but miss Mortimer's refusal can break the match. Gov. H. Dear fortune! let me escape this Wood. I shall not put that in her power, once undiscovered, and I compound for all my lord. Permit me to tell you, no son was the rest. Charles! the news of the house? ever more sensible of a father's kindness; but for the politics of this family are employment if I can purchase its continuance only with for every individual in it. my honour and my happiness, it would be Capt. H. Bella, horrida bella, sir! My lord too dearly bought. is determined to bring his son's duty to an Lord G. Tis well, sir. —I have listened to immediate test. Thanks to his friend's schemes you sufficiently. Now hear me. Know, this and his mistress's beauty. [Aside. worthless wretch you prefer to your duty, is Gov. H. What poor malicious wretches are in my power; nay, in this house. we by nature! Zounds, if I could not find in Capt. H. The devil she is! How, in the my heart to rejoice at thinking every one here name of ill-luck, should he find that out?will be as mortified and disappointed as a cer- My fine scheme entirely blown up, by Jupiter! tain person that shall be nameless. So, so, here they come, faith, to argue the point in open court. Enter LORD GLENMORE, followed by WOOD-I VILLE. Lord G. Without this proof of your obedience, all you can urge, sir, is ineffectual. [Aside. Wood. Why play thus upon me, my lord? -Her letter Lord G. What, has she wrote to you? That was not aware of, nor indeed suspected she could write. Gov. H. No, not so ignorant as that neither I ordered she should write too! Lord G. You ordered she should write? Let me tell you, sir, it was wronging my confidence. Brid. Oh, dear me! Gov. H. No, I did not order she should write. I mean I meau-Zounds! I don't know to marry, sir, otherwise you may take her. what I mean. Wood. So it seems indeed; since, hardly half an hour ago, my uncle himself persuaded me to marry my love. Gov. H. Here's a cursed affair now. Wood. Take her? What poor farce is this? Capt. H. Hey-day! more incomprehensibilities. Vane. Now for the eclaircissement, since if the governor doesn't acknowledge her in his Lord G. Can this be possible? Let me tell first rage and confusion, I may never be able you, governor, if, presuming upon your wealth, to make him. [Aside] I humbly hope Mr. you play a double part in my family- Woodville will pardon me, if, with her own Gov. H. Zounds! nobody knows his own consent and my lord's, I this morning marpart in your family, that I see! and this fel-ried this young lady. low too to tease me, whom I loved above all Goo. H. Zounds, you dog, what's that? You in it. Why, I spoke entirely from regard to married her?-Why, how did you dare?— him. If since then I have discovered a bump-And you too, my lord! what the devil, did kin was beforehand with him in the posses-you consent to this? sion of his miss Vane. Believe me, sir, I didn't then know Lord G. Daughter! Gov. H. So it's out, after all. [Aside] It's Wood. If any one beside yourself, sir, durst she was your daughter. tell such a falsehood, it would cost a life. Gov. H. Yes, and if any one beside myself durst tell me such a truth, it would cost aa lie, you dog, you did know she was my soul perhaps. [Exil. daughter; you all knew it; you all conspired Capt. H. This is more unintelligible than all to torment me! the rest. All. Ha, ha, ha! Lord G. To end these altercations, upon Gov. H. Ha, ha, ha! confound your mirth! yourself, Woodville, shall depend the fortune As if I hadn't plagues enough already. - And of this wretch to whom you have been so you have great reason to grin too, my lord, gross a dupe as to justify the imputation of when you have thrown my gawky on your folly. Why, even without knowing me, she impudent valet. ridiculed your passion, and offered to leave you. Wood. Impossible! Lord G. Dare you disbelieve me, sir?-Nay, she shall be produced, and obliged to confess her arts; then blush and obey.-Here, Vane! governor! the keys! [Exit. Woodville walks behind Lord G. Who could ever have dreamt of -ha, ha, ha!-of finding this your little wonder of the country, brother? Capt. H. Nay, my lord, she's the little wonder of the town too. All. Ha, ha, ha! Gov. H. Mighty well, mighty well, mighty well!-Pray take your whole laugh out, good Capt. H. Now could I find in my heart to folks, since this is positively the last time of make this story into a ballad, as a warning to my entertaining you in this manner. A colall meddling puppies; and then hang myself, tage shall henceforth be her portion, and a that it may conclude with a grace. Zounds, rope mine. he must be endued with supernatural intelli- Brid. If you are my papa, I think you might gence! Just when I was saying a thousand give some better proof of your kindness. But civil things to myself on my success, to have I shan't stir. Why, I married on purpose my mine sprung before my eyes by the ene- that I might not care for you. my; and instead of serving my friend and Gov. H. Why, thou eternal torment! my myself, become a mere tool to old Gravity's original sin! whose first fault was the greatest revenge! Pshaw! however, we must make the frailty of woman, and whose second, her grea best of a bad matter. [Aside] Woodville, test folly! dost thou, or the designing knave what dost mean to do, man? who has entrapped thee merely for that purWood. Let them produce my Cecilia, I will pose, imagine my wealth shall ever reward then seize and protect her to the last moment incontinence and ingratitude? No; go of my life. stockings to. some regiment, where he is preferred to be drummer; warm yourself when the sun shines; soak every hard-earned crust in your own tears, and repent at leisure. [Exit in a Rage. Capt. H. And I will assist you to the last moment of mine. Wood. My generous cousin! this is indeed friendship. Capt. H. Not so very generous, if you knew all. Re-enter LORD GLENMORE and GOVERNOR Wood. My love! my life! do I once again behold thee?-Fear nothing; you here are safe from all the world!-Will you not bless me with one look? knit All. Ha, ha, ha! Lord G. He to ridicule my mode of edu cation! But what is the meaning of all this? Wood. Truly, my lord, I believe it would hard to find very for either any words or actions. I am equally at a loss to guess as to Bridget here. be my uncle's Vane. Hey, what? Bridget, did you say, sir? Why you little ugly witch, are you really Bridget? Brid. Why I told you so all along; but you wouldn't believe me. All. Ha, ha, ha! ville will tell you whether I have not solemnly Brid. Oh dear heart! I am now as much rowedafeard of my new husband as father. Lord G. For thee, wench! Wood. Not to accept me without the consent of both fathers; and if miue consents, what doubt Brid. [Falls on her Knees] Oh, no more locking up, for goodness' sake, my lord; I be Gov. H. Without] Stop that old man! sick enough of passing for a lady: but, if old Stop that mad parson! Stop him! Scratch ever puts such a trick again in my head, I hope your lordship will catch me, in pursuit of mythat's all. [Exit. Vane. I shall run distracted! have I married an—and all for nothing too? Lord G. A punishment peculiarly just, as it results from abusing my confidence. Hence, wretch! nor ever, while you live, appear again in my presence. [Exit Vane, looking furiously after Bridget. Lord G. 'Tis time to return to ourselves. We shall soon come to an eclaircissement, Woodville! since you won't marry, I will. Wood. My lord! Lord G. And you shall judge of my choice. [Exit. Capt. H. Now for it: whatever devil diverts himself among us to-day, I see he owes my sagacious lord here a grudge, as well as the rest; and I foresee that his wife and the governor's daughter will prove equally entertaining. Re-enter LORD GLENMORE, leading CECILIA, followed by MISS MORTIMER. Lord G. This lady, sir, I have selected; worthy choice. a Grey. [Without] Nothing shall stop me Enter GREY. Ha! she is she is here indeed! Providence has at length directed me to her. [Runs to Cecilia. Cecil. My father! covered with shame let me sink before you. Lord G. Capt. H. Her father! Re-enter GOVERNOR HARCOURT. Grey. Rise, my glorious girl! rise purified and forgiven! rise to pity with me the weak minds that know not all thy value, and venerate the noble ones that do. Gov. H. Hey! is it possible? Grey, is this myGrey. Yes, sir, this is your Cecilia; my Cecilia; the object of your avowed rejection and contempt. Gov. H. Rejection and contempt! stand out of the way: let me embrace my daughter; let me take her once more to my heart. [Runs, and embraces her. Lord G. His daughter! Gov. H. Yes, my friend, this is really my daughter; my own Cecilia; as sure as I am Wood. I dream, surely! that lady your an old fool after being a young one, this good choice? yours! " Lord G. Ungrateful son, had such been yours Wood. Why, this very angel is mine; my Cecilia, my first, my only love. Lord G. How? girl has a right to call me by the name of father: hasn't she, Grey? Why, my lord, this is the very parson I told you of! [Takes Cecilia's Arm under his] And now, young sir, what do you say to your uncle's freaks? [To Woodville. Cecil. Yes, my lord! you now know the Wood. Say, sir? that had you ten thousand unhappy object at once of your resentment, such, I would go through a patriarchal servicontempt, and admiration. My own misfor- tude, in hopes of Cecilia's band for my reward. tunes I had learned to bear, but those of Gov. H. And had I ten millions of money, Woodville overpower me. I deliver myself and this only girl, thou shouldst have her, up to your justice; content to be every way and that too for thy noble freedom! - And his victim, so I am not his ruin. Lord G. But to find you in this houseCecil. Your generous nephew and the amiable miss Mortimer distinguished me with the only asylum could shelter me from your son! what says my Cecilia to her father's first gift? Cecil. Astonishment and pleasure leave me hardly power to say, that a disobedience to you, sir, would only double my fault; nor to worship that heaven which has led me through Lord G. They distinguished themselves! Oh, such a trial to such a reward! Take all I Woodville! did I think an hour ago I could have left myself to give you, Woodville, in be more angry with you? How durst you my hand. warp a mind so noble? Wood. It is a crime my life cannot expiate; yet, if the sincerest anguish Grey. [Woodville kisses first her Hand, and then herself. Now let me die, my darling child! Lord G. I have one act of justice still in since I have seen thee once more innocent my power: my prejudice in favour of birth, and happy. and even a stronger prejudice, is corrected Gov. H. And now kiss me, my Cecilia! kiss by this lovely girl. Of her goodness of heart, me.-'Od! miss Mortimer shall kiss me too, and greatness of mind, I have had incon- for loving my poor girl here.- Kiss me, all testible proofs; and, if I thought you, Frank- of you, old and young, men, women, and Cecil. Yet stay, my lord! nor kill me with children!-'Od, 1 am so overjoyed, I dread too much kindness. Once your generosity the consequences.-D'ye hear there? Fetch me might have made me happy, now only mise- a surgeon and a bottle of wine.-I must both rable. My reason, my pride, nay, even my empty and fill my veins on this occasion!love, induces me to refuse, as the only way Zooks, I could find in my heart to frisk it to prove I deserve him. He has taught me to merrily in defiance of the gout, and take that know the world too late; nor will I retort on cursed vixen below, whoever she is, for my him the contempt I have incurred. Mr. Wood-partner! Lord G. Methinks all seem rewarded but Goo. H. 'Od, brother! Who'd have thought my poor Sophia here; and her protection of you in the right all the while? We'll never Cecilia deserves the highest recompense.-But separate again, by the Lord Harry! but knock whenever, my dear,' you can present me the down our Welsh friend's old house, and husband of your choice, I will present him raise him one on the ruins large enough to with a fortune fit for my daughter. contain the whole family of us, where he shall Gov. H. Protect Cecilia! 'Od! she is a reign sole sovereign over all our future little good girl, and a charming girl, and I honour Woodvilles and Čecilias. the very tip of her feathers now!-If she could| but fancy our Charles, I'd throw in something pretty on his side, I promise you. Miss M. Frankness is the fashion. What would you say, sir, and you, my lord, if had fancied your Charles so much as to make him mine already? Lord G. Hey-day! more discoveries! How's this, boy? Capt. H. Even so, sir, indeed. Lord G. It completes my satisfaction. Cecil. Oppressed with wonder, pleasure, gratitude, I must endeavour to forgive myself, when heaven thus graciously proves its forgiveness, in allying me to every human being my heart distinguishes. Grey. Yes, my Cecilia, you may believe him, who never gave you a bad lesson, that you are now most truly entitled to esteem; since it requires a far greater exertion to stop your course down the hill of vice, than to toil slowly up toward virtue. [Exeunt CHARLES MACKLIN. THIS author was a native of Ireland, born, as we have been informed, in the county of West Meath, and that the name of his family was M'Laughlin; which seeming somewhat uncouth to the pronunciation of an English tongue, he, on his coming upon the stage, anglicized it to that by which he was ever afterwards known. He is said to have been born as early as the 1st of May 1690, and, absconding from his mother, then a widow, came over to England in the year 1708. He was presently seduced into a marriage with a publican's widow in the Borough; but the circumstances coming to the cars of his friends, the widow was compelled to resign him (on the ground of non-age), and he was sent back to Ireland. Here forming an acquaintance with some under-graduates of Trinity College, Dublin, he took the employment of badgeman in that college; read much for the improvement of his mind, and remained in that menial situation till he arrived at the age of 21. He then again came to London, associated with the frequenters of Hockley in the Hole, made a connexion with a strolling company, played Harlequin; and, after leading an extraordinary course of life, was again restored to his mother, and returned to his former station of badgeman in Trinity College. A third time, he quitted, and finally, his mother's superintendence, and arrived in England in 1716. He first joined a company of players at Bristol, then attached himself to several strolling companies, and afterwards made his entré at the theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields; where his merit was first shown in a small character in Fielding's Coffee-house Politician, which in the hands of any other performer, would have gone unnoticed. For several seasons he performed cem characters; and on the 10th of May 1735, was unfortunate enough to kill Mr. Hallam, an actor in the same theatre with himself (Drury-Lane) and who was grand father to the present Mrs. Mattocks. The dispute originated about a wig, which Hallam had on in Fabian's Trick for Trick, and which the other claimed as his property; and, in a warmth of temper, he raised his cane, and gave him a fatal stroke in the eye. He was brought to trial in consequence; no malicious intent appearing in evidence, he was acquitted. On the 14th of February 1741 he established his fame 21 an actor, in the character of Shylock, in The Merchant of Venice, and restored to the stage a play which had bert forty years supplanted by Lord Lansdowne's Jew of Venice. Macklin's performance of this character so forcibly struck a gentleman in the pit, that he as it were involuntarily exclaimed, "That is the Jew, that Shakspeare drew." It h been said that this gentleman was Mr. Pope; and that he meant his panegyric on Macklin as a satire against Lord Landsdowne. Mr. Macklin was in his private character a tender hushaud, a good father, and a steady friend. To h firmness and resolution in supporting the rights of his theatrical brethren, it was owing that they have been relieved from a species of oppression to which they had been ignominiously subjected for many years, whenever the caprice malice of their enemies chose to exert itself. We allude to the prosecution which he commenced and carried ca against a set of insignificant beings, who, calling themselves The Town, used frequently to disturb the entertainments vi the theatre, to the terror of the actors, as well as to the annoyance and disgrace of the public. His merit as a come dian in various characters is too well known to need our taking up much time in expatiating on it, particularly in S Gilbert Wrangle in The Refusal, Don Manuel in She Would and She Would not, Sir Archy M'Sarcasm in his own farce of Love à-la-Mode, and Sir Pertinax Mac Sycophant, in The Man of the World. He was also esteemed ver capital in the character of Shakspeare's Iago; but the part in which he was long allowed to shine without a com petitor was that of Shylock. THE MAN OF THE WORLD. Acted with great success at Covent Garden 1781. This play, which in respect to originality, force of mind, and well-adapted satire, may dispute the palm with any dramatic piece that has appeared within the compass of hal century, was received with the loudest acclamations, in Ireland, about seventeen years before, under the title of The True-born Scotchman, in three acts. In London, however, an official leave for its exhibition was repeatedly denied: and our audiences are indebted for the pleasure they have since derived from it, to the death of Mr. Capell, the late sub-licenser of the Theatres Royal. The plot of the play is briefly this: a crafty subtle Scotchman, thrown upon the world without friends, and little or no education, directs the whole of his observation and assiduity (in both of which he is indefatigable) to the pursuit of fortune and ambition. By his unwearied efforts, and meanness, he succeeds; but, warned by the defects of his own education, he determines to give his eldest son the best that could be obtained, and for this purpose puts him into the hands of a clergyman of learning, integrity, and honour, who, by teaching him good precepts, and showing him the force of good example makes him the very reverse of what the father intended: vu. not a man educated the better to make his court to the great, and extend the views of false ambition- but to make himself respected, independent, and happy. Thus he defeats the views of his father, who wants to marry him to lady of rank and fortune, but to whom he cannot direct his affections, and marries the daughter of a poor officer, little better than a dependant on his mother, but who has virtues and accomplishments to adorn any situation. In short, the latter feels the just consequences of an overvaulting ambition; while the son, seeking his own happiness independent fortune or honours, in the concluding lines, thus avows and rejoices in the principles that he is governed by: "My scheme; though mock'd by knave, coquet, and fool, "In all pursuits-but chiefly in a wife, To thinking minds will prove this golden rule: "Not wealth, but morals, make the happy life." bet |