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get off the young one, and leave you to ob-1 Mrs.S. That was kindly done. Alas, sir, serve what may be wrought out of the old how do you find yourself? one for your good. TApart, and exit. Myr. Never I was taken in so odd a way in

Cim. Madam, this old gentleman, your great my life- Pray lead me-Oh, I was talking uncle, desires to be introduced to you, and here-Pray carry me-to my cousin Cimberto see you nearer-Approach, sir.

ton's young lady- [Cimberton and Lucinda Myr. By your leave, young lady- [Puts

lead him as one in Pain. on Spectacles] - Cousin Cimberton, she has Cim. Plague, uncle, you will pull my ear exactly that sort of neck and bosom for which off! my sister Gertrude was so much admired in Luc, Pray, uncle, you will squeeze me to the year sixty-one, before the French dresses death! first discovered any thing in women belowi Mrs. S. No matter, no matter; he knows the chin.

not what he does. Come, sir, shall I help Luc. Chin, quotha ! I don't believe my pas- you out? sionate lover there knows whether I have one Myr. By no means; I'll trouble nobody but or not. Ha, ha!

my young cousins here.

[Exeunt, Cim. Madam, I would not willingly offend; [Cimberion and Lucinda leading Myrtle. but I have a beller glass

[Pulls out a large Glass. Scene II.--Charing Gross. Re-enter Phillis.

Enter Sealand and HUMPHREY. Phil. Sir, my lady desires to show the Seal. I am very glad, Mr. Humphrey, that apartment to you that she intends for sir you agree with me, that it is for our comGeoffry.

[To Cimberton. mon good I should look thoroughly into this Cim. Well, sir, by that time you have suf- malter. ficiently gazed and sunned yourself in the beau-l Hum. I am indeed of that opinion; for ties of my spouse there, I will wait on you there is no artifice, nothing concealed in our again. [Exeunt Cimberton and Phillis. family, which ought in justice to be known.

Myr. Were it not, madam, that I might I need not desire you, sir, to treat the lady be troublesome, there is something of impor- with care and respect.. tance, though we are alone, which I would Seal. Master Humphrey, I shall not be rude, say more safe from being heard.

though I design to be a little abrupt, and Luc. There is something in this old fellow, come into the maller at once, to see how she methinks, that raises my curiosity. [Aside. will bear upon a surprise.

Myr. To be free, madam, I as heartily con- Hum. That's the door; sir, I wish you suctemn this kinsman of mine as you do, and cess.

[Exit. am sorry to see so much beauty and merit Seal. [Knocks] I'll carry this matter with devoted by your parents to so insensible as an air of authority, to inquire, though I make possessor.

lan errand to begin discourse. [Knocks again. Luc. Surprising!-I hope then, sir, you will

Enter a Footboy.. not contribute to the wrong you are so ge- So, young man, is your lady within ? nerous to pity, whatever may be the interest | Boy. Alack, sir, I am but a country boy; of your faraily.

I don't know whether she is or noa; but, an' Myr. This hand o! mine shall never be you'll stay a bit, I'll goa and ask the gentleemployed to sign any thing against your good woman that's with her. and inappiness.

| Seal. Why, sirrah, though you are a counLuc. I am sorry, sir, it is not in my power try boy, you can see, can't you? you know to make you proper acknowledgments; but whether she is at home wben you see her, there is a gentleman in the world, whose gra- don't you? titude will, I am sure, be worthy of the fa- Boy. Nay, nay, I'm not such a country lad, vour.

neither, master, to think she is at home beMyr. All the thanks I desire, madam, are cause I see her; I have been in town but a in your power to give.

month, and I lost one place already for beLuc. Name them, and command them. lieving my own eyes.

Myr. Only, madam, that the first time you Seal. Why, sirrah, have you learn'd to lie are alone with your lover, you will, with already ? open arms, receive him.

Boy. Ah, master! things that are lies in the * Luc. As willingly as heart could wish it. country are not lies at London; I begin to

Myr. Thus then he claims your promise! know my business a little better than so; but, Oh Lucinda!

lan' you please to walk in, I'll call a gentleLuc. Oh, a cheat, a cheat, a cheat! woman to you that can tell you for certain;

Myr. Hush! 'lis I, 'lis I, your lover; Myr- she can make bold to ask my lady herself. ile himself, madam.

Seal. Oh then, she is within I find, though Luc. Oh, bless me! what rashness and folly you dare not say so. to surprise me so !-But hush-my mother - Boy. Nay, nay, that's neitber here nor Re-enter MRS. SEALAND, CIMBERTON, and there; what's matter. whether she is within or PHILLIS.

no, if she has not a mind to see any body? Mrs. S. How now, what's the nialter? | Seal. I can't tell, sirrah, whether you are

Luc. Oh, madam! as soon as you left the arch or simple; but, however, get me a direct room, my uncle fell into a sudden fit, and answer, and here's a shilling for you. and so I cried out for help to support him, Boy. Will you please to walk in? I'll see and conduct him to his chamber.

Iwbat I can do for you.

Scal. I see you will be fit for your busi- the fame of your beauty, and the regard ness in time, child; but I expect to meet with which Mr. Bevil is a little too well known nothing but extraordinaries in such a house. to have for you, excited my curiosity.

Boy. Such a house, sir! you ha'n't seen it Ind. Too well known to have for me! yet. Pray walk in.

Your sober appearance, sir, which my friend Seal. Sir, P'll wait upon you. [Exeunt. described, made me expect no rudeness, or Scene III. - Indiana's House.

absurdity at least.-Who's there?-Sir, if you

Ipay the money to a servant, 'twill be as well. Enter Isabella and Fooiboy.

Seal. Pray, madam, be not offended; I came Isa. So, Daniel, what news with you ? bither on an innocent, nay, a virtuous, de

Boy. Madam, there's a gentleman below sign; and if you will have patience to hear would speak with my lady.

me, it may be as useful to you, as you are Isa. Sirrah, don't you know Mr. Bevil yet? in friendship with Mr. Bevil, as to my only

Boy. Madami, 'tis not the gentleman who daughter, whom I was this day disposing of comes every day and asks for you, and won't Ind. You make me hope, sir, I have misgo in till he knows whether you are with taken you: I am composed again. Be free; her or no.

say on-what I am afraid to hear. [Aside. Isa. Ha! that's a particular I did not know Seal. I fear'd indeed an unwarranted pasbefore. Well, be who it will, let him come sion here; but I did not think it was in abuse up to me.

(Exit Footboy. lof so worthy an object, so accomplisbed a

lady, as your sense and mien bespeak: but Re-enter Footboy, with SEALAND. ISABELLA the youth of our age care not what merii looks amazed.

and virtue they bring to shame, so they gratisySeal. Madam, I can't blame your being, al Ind. Sir, you are going into very great little surprised to see a perfect stranger make errors; but as you are pleased to say you a visit, and

see something in me that has changed at Isa. I am indeed surprised.-I see he does least the colour of your suspicions, so bas not know me.

[Aside. your appearance altcred mine, and made me Seal. You are very prettily lodg'd here, carnestly attentive to wbat has any way conmadam: in troth, you seem to have cvery cerned you to inquire into my affairs and thing in plenty.-A thousand a year, I war- character. rant you, upon this pretty nest of rooms, and Scal. How sensibly, with wbat an air, she the dainty one within them.


[ Aside. [Aside, and looks about. Ind. Good sir, be sealed, and tell me tenIsa. Twenty years, it seems, have less ef-derl,-keep all your suspicions concerning sect in the alteration of a man of thirty, than me alive, that you may in a proper and preof a girl of fourteen - he's almost still the pared way aquaint me why the care of your same. How shall I contain my surprise and daughter obliges a person of your seeming satisfaction? - He must not know me yet. worth and fortune to be thus inquisitive about

[Aside. a wretched, helpless, friendless -[Weeps] Seal. Madam, I hope I don't give you any But I beg your pardon; though I ain an ordisturbance? but there is a young lady here pban, your child is not; and your concern with whom I have a particular business to for her, it seems, has brought you hither. Il discourse: and I hope she will admit me to be composed: pray go on, sir.' that favour.

Seal.' How could Mr. Bevil be such a monIsa. Why, sir, have you had any noticester to injure such a woman? concerning her? I wonder who could givei Ind. No, sir, you wrong him; he has not it you.

injured me: my support is from bis bounty: Seal. That, madam, is fit only to be com- Seal. Bouniy! when gluttons give bigh municated to herself.

prices for delicates, they are prodigious bounIsa. Well, sir, you shall see ber; you iful! shall see her presently, sir; for now I am as Ind. Still, still you will persist in that era mother, and will trust her with you. [Exit. ror; but my own fears tell me all. You are

Seal. As a mother! right: that's the old the gentleman, I suppose, for whose happy phrase for one of those commode ladies, who daughler he is designed a husband by his lend out beauty for hire to young gentlemen good father? and he has perhaps consented that have pressing occasions. But here co-io the overture, and he is to be perhaps this mes the precious lady herself: in troth, a very night a bridegroom. sightly woman!

| Seal. I own he was intended such; but,

madam, on your account I am determined to Enter IndianA.

defer my daughter's marriage till I am satisInd. I am told, sir, you have some affair fied, from your own mouth, of what nature that requires your speaking with me.

are thu obligations you are under to him. Seal. Yes, madam. There came to my Ind. His actions, sir, his eyes, have only bands a bill, drawn by Mr. Bevil, which is made me think he designed to make me the payable to-morrow; and he, in the intercourse partner of bis heart. The goodness and genof business, sent it to me, who have cash of ileness of his demeanour made me misinterhis, and desired me to send a servant with pret all; 'twas my own hope, my own pasit; but I have made bold to bring you the sion, that deluded me. He never made one money myself.

amorous advance to me; his large heart and Ind. Sir, was that necessary ?

bestowing hand have only helped the miserSeal. No, madam; but to be free with you,lable: nor know I why, but from his mere

delight in virtue, that I have been his care, let which I bequeathed niy wife at our last the object on which to indulge and please mournful parting. himseif with pouring favours.

Ind. What said you, sir? your wife! Seal. Madam, I know not why it is, but I, Whither does my fancy carry me? what as well as you, am, methinks, afraid of enter-means this new-felt motion at my heart? And ing into the matter I came about; but 'tis the yet again my fortune but deludes me; for if same thing as if we had talked never so di-I err not, sir, your name is Sealand; but my stinctly; he ne'er shall bave a daughter of lost father's name was-mine.

Seal. Danvers, was it not? Ind. If you say this from what you think Ind. What new amazeinent ! that is indeed of me, you wrong yourself and him. Let not my family. me, miserable though I may be, do injury to Seal. Know then, when my misfortunes my benefactor: no, sir, my treatment ought drove me to the Indies, for reasons too tedious rather to reconcile you to his virtues.- If to now to inention, I changed my name of Danbeslow, without a prospect of return; if to vers into Sealand. delight in supporting what might perhaps be thought an object of desire, with no other

Re-enter Isabella. view than to be her guard against those who Isa. If yet there wants an explanation of would not be so disinterested; if these actions, your wonder, examine well this face; yours, sir, can, in a careful parent's eye, commend sir, I well remember. Gaze on, and read in him to a daughter, give yours, sir; give her me your sister Isabella. to my honest, generous "Bevil! - What have Seal. My sister! I to do but sigh and weep, to rave, run wild, Isa. But here's a claim more tender yet-a lunatic in chains, or, bid in darkness, mul- your Indiana, sir, your long-lost daughter. ter in distracted starts and broken accents my Seul. Oh, my child, iny child! strange, strange story!

Ind. All-gracious heaven! is it possible ? Seal. Take comfort, madam.

do I embrace my father? Ind. All my comfort must be to expostulate Seal. And do I hold thee?- These passions ia madness, to relieve with frerzy my despair, are too strong for utterance. Rise, rise, my and shricking to demand of fate why, why child, and give my tears their way.-Oh, my was I born to such a variety of sorrows? sister!

[Embraces Isa. Seal. If I have been the least occasion. Isa. Now, dearest niece, if I have wronged

Ind. No, 'twas heaven's high will I should thy noble lover, with too hard suspicions, my be such-to be plundered in my cradle, toss-just concern for thee, I hope, will plead my ed on the seas, and even there, an infant cap-pardon. tive, to lose my mother, hear but of my fa-| | Seal. Oh! make him then the full amends, ther, to be adopted, lose my adopter, then and be yourself the messenger of joy: fly this plunged again in worse calamities!

instant: tell him all these wondrous turns of Seal. An infant captive!

Providence in his favour; tell him I bave now Ind. Yet then to find the most charming a daughter to bestow which he no longer of mankind once more to set me free from will decline; that this day he still sball be a what I thought the last distress; to load me bridegroom ; nor shall a' fortune, the merit with his services, his bounties, and his fa- which bis father seek's, be wanting. Tell bim vours; to support my very life in a way that the reward of all bis virlues waits on his acstole at the same time my very soul itself ceptance. (Exit Isabella) My dearest Indiana! from me.

[Turns and embraces her. Seal. And bas young Bevil been this worthy Ind. Have I then at last a father's sanction man?

on my love? his bounteous hand to give, and Ind. Yet then again, this very man to take make my heart a present worthy of Bevil's another, without leaving me ihe right, the generosity? pretence, of casing my fond heart with lears! | Scal. Oh, my child! how are our sorrows for, oh! I can't reproach him, though the past o'erpaid by such a meeting! Though I same band that raised me to this height now have lost so many years of soft, paternal daltbrows me down the precipice.

liance with thee , yet in one day to find thee Seal. Dear lady! oh yet one moment's pa-thus, and thus bestow thee in such perfect tience; my heart grows full with your afflic- happiness, is ample, ample reparation and tion! but yet there's something in your story yet again the merit of thy lovertbat promises relief when you least hope it. Ind. Oh, had I spirits left to tell you of

Ind. My portion here is bitterness and his actions, the pride, the joy of his alliance, sorrow.

sir , would warm your heart, as he has conSeal. Do not think so. Pray answer me;[quered mine. does Bevil know your name and family? Seal. How laudable is love when born of

Ind. Alas, too well! Oh! could I be any virtue! I burn to embrace him. other thing than what I am! I'll tear away Ind. Sce, sir, my aunt already has succeedall traces of my former self, my little orna-ed, and brought him to your wishes. ments, the remains of my first state, the hints of what I ought to have been.

(Re-enter Isabella, with Sir John Bevil, rin her Disorder she throws away her! Bevil, Mrs. SeaLAND, CIMBERTON, MYRTIE,

Bracelet, which Sealand takes up, and and LUCINDA.
looks earnestly 'at it.

| Sir J. Where, where's this scene of wonSeal. Ila! what's this? my eyes are not de- der?-Mr. Sealand, I congratulate, on this occeir'd! It is, it is the same; the very brace_casion, our mutual happiness. Your good sister, sir, bas, with the story of your Cim. I bope, sir, your lady has concealed daughter's fortune, filled us with surprise nothing from me? and joy. Now all exceptions are remo- Seal. Troth, sir, nothing but what was conved; my son has now avowed his love, cealed from myself; another daughter, who and turned all former jealousies and doubts has an undoubted title to half my estate. to approbation, and I am told your goodness Cim. How, Mr. Sealand? why then, if half has consented to reward bim.

Mrs. Lucinda's fortune is gone, you can't say Seal. If, sir, a fortune equal to his father's that any of my estate is settled upon her; 1 hopes can make this object worthy his ac- was in treaty for the whole: but if that's not ceptance. I

to become at, to be sure there can be no Bevil. I hear your mention, sir, of fortune bargain. Sir, I have nothing to do but to with pleasure only, as it may prove the means take my leave of your good lady, my cousin, to reconcile the best of fathers to my love: and beg pardon for the trouble I have given let him be provident, but let me be happy. this old gentleman. My ever destined, my acknowledged wife! | Myr. That you have, Mr. Cimberton, with Embraces Indiana. all my heart.

[Discovers himself Ind. Wife!-oh! my ever loved, my lord, Omnes. Mr. Myrtle! my master!

Myr. And I beg pardon of the whole comSir J. I congratulate myself as well as you pany that I assumed the person of sir Geofir that I have a son who could under such dis- only to be present at the danger of this lady's advantages discover your great merit. being disposed of, and in her utmost esigence

Seal. Oh, sir John, how vain, how weak, to assert my right to her, which if her pais human prudence! What care, what foresigbt, rents will ratify, as they once favoured my what imagination, could contrive such blest pretensions, no abatement of fortune sha events to make our children happy, as Pro- lessen her value to me. vidence in one short bour has laid before us?! Luc. Generous man!

Cim. I am afraid, madam, Mr. Sealand is Seal. If, sir, you can overlook the injury a little too busy for our affair; if you please, of being in irealy with one who has means we'll take another opportunity.

|left her, as you have generously asserted your

[To Mrs. Sealand. right in her, she is yours. Mrs. S. Let us have patience, sir. | Luc. Mr. 'Myrtle, though you have ever Cim. But we make sir Geoffry wait, madam. my heart, yet now I find I love you more. Myr. Oh, sir, I'm not in baste.

because I deserve you less. During this Bevil presents Lucinda to Mrs. S. Well, bowever, I'm glad the girl's Indiana.

disposed of any way.

[Aside. Seal. But here, here's our general bene- Bevil. Myrtle, no longer rivals now, but factor. Excellent young man! that could be brothers. at once a lover to her beauty, and a parent Myr. Dear Bevil! you are born to triumph to ber virtue!

over me, but now our competition ceases. ! Bevil. If you think that an obligation, sir, rejoice in the preeminence of your virtue, give me leave to overpay myself in the only and your alliance adds charms to Lucinda. instance that can now add to my felicity, by Sir J. Now, ladies and gentlemen, you have begging you to bestow this lady on Mr. set the world a fair example; your happiness Myrtle.

lis owing to your constancy and merit, and Seal. She is his, without reserve. I beg he the several difficulties you have struggled with may be sent for,--Mr. Cimberton, not with-evidently showstanding you never had my cousent, yel there Whate'er the gen'rous mind itself denies, is, since I saw you, another objection to your The secret care of Providence supplies. marriage with my daughter.



Performed for the first time at Cover:I-Garden, March uth, 1824. This piece was dedicated to Mr. Canning, the author did not choose to mention his own name; it being, as le says, his first allempt, he had not cons enough in his own talents openly to stand the fat of the severely criticising public. Modesty is in every case o commended; but in this he might certainly have dared; for the whole is not only prettily, but well wrillen, cher finely drawn, and full of good smart reparlee. The character of the old Countess is most admirably painted rento in the serenade and prison scenes must be excellent in the bands of Jones. The dandy Cornet is just the type of the modern puppies, with their monstrous affectation of language; if we add to the ridiculous pronunt with which these man-milliners honour the English language, we shall have an exact antidote to the mably O'Shannon, who blunders out his Irish with the greatest goud-humour in the world, till the honour of his cum altacked, and then he is all fire and flames. Our readers may, perhaps, remember an afiair that took place ago, about the ioth. Hussars, in which the officers of that regiment are said not to have conducted themselt that manly behaviour, that ought to be the guide of a man of honour and a soldier, and were consequently, eyes of the world, as the Cornet sny "uiterly nonentified. Muffs and Meerschaums!” We think that there is so. like a reflection on this allair in Torrento, who will have nothing to do with “the abandoned habits of the nor aspire to be a national benefactor in breaking the regiment. Major O'Shannon's oath of by the glory of the tieth," might be divided by two. Whatever this may be, the play is well written; and, if it be but a young are inclined to think it must be plucked from the wing of a young cagle, which upon growing a Jiule strong produce us something good.

equently, in the

a young pea, !






Serenaders, Turnkeys, Prisoners, etc. Attendants, etc.


shall stab you.

ACT 1.

Maidens must shun you, or be undone; CENE I.-Night. The front of a Villa in Cupid's a traitor both night and day; the Suburbs of Palermo. A Shrubbery

Oaths are but air, when the heart is won. a Balcony.

Then farewell to his billing and cooing,

The little rogue 's gone, other victims purSpado enters with Musicians from the

suing, Street.

So sing, Fal, lal, la, etc. Spa. THERE, my men of strings and sym- Chorus. — So sing, Fal, lal. honies! Lutes in front. I always make the ght troops take the advance.- ( They begin

SERENADERS sing, itune] ---My master is coming-Stand back Lady of beauty! away, away, -All ready? Now, my lads, the moment the Roses will fade, Time is flying on. dy show's the head of her column, close Weep when you must--when you can, be gay, inks, and give her a volley of violins. Here'sy Life is too short to be sighing on. e Signior Torrento. Arrived just in time, Here at your feet is your Cavalier suing: our honour! [To Torrento, who enters. Hard hearted beauty, you'll be his undoing ! Tor. Bravo, gentlemen, well mel-forwards

So sing, Fal, lal, lal, la, etc. -a general discharge,-a raking fire.

CHORUS.-So sing, Fal, lal, la. [ Approaching the Balcony, and speak- Tor. My adorable!

[To Leon ing towards it.

Leon. [ Whispering]-Who's there? ome, wake my lady from the honied sleep, Spa. Your adorable.

[To Leon. bat sits upon her eyes like dew on flowers; Tor. Dog, be quiet! Your Torrento. ur song shall be the sun that dries it off.

[To Leon. Spa. (Whispering)- There's light in the Leon. [Whispering]-What do you want? chamber.

I cannot elope--to-night. Tor.

Let the silver late, Spa. [To Torrento ]-What do we want? of softer than my love, tell of my love: (Ask her to lend you some money) [Aside. hen fill the winds of night with harmonies Tor. [To Spado]-Villain !-silence, or ! olemn as incense, sweet as zephyr's wing ew wet from rosebuds, to petition her Tor. [10 Leon]-Lovely Leonora, this is bat she would stoop,-an empress-from her the propitious moment. throne, Leon. Ah, deceiver!

(She sighs. od listen to the suit of my true love. Tor. I must leave Palermo to-night. Spa. [To the Musicians] - Now level a Leon. This nigbt? so soon! ortal canzonet at her casement—a bar-shot). Tor. Yes, Leonora, my ange!! yes. [He

[Aside. declaims] Misfortune! desperation! fatality! 1st Seren. Sir, shall we sing the Galliard, 'disastrous love! wrecked happiness! eternal · the Allemagne ?

constancy! an early grave! (That must do.) Spa. Is this a wine-bouse, dog! are these

[Aside. the tunes Leon. Oh, irresistible!

Aside. draw a lady down a ladder?

Tor. Yes, divine Leonora, daylight must not (The Casement opens. see me in Palermo. Tor. See, she's coming; are you prepared ?| Spa. Or it will see you in gaol. [Aside. Spa. Let me alone, Sir, I have been a sere- Leon. What cruel chance has done this? der before now; in my time I would un- Tor. Ah! [Sighs] (Wbat the deuce shall rtake to blow the heaviest Signora in all I say ?)

[ Aside alermo out of ber first sleep.

Spa. Tell her you killed a Duke in a duel. Tor. Hush! begin-begin.

Anything will do for a woman.
The SerenADERS sing.

[Aside to Torrento. SERENADE.—(Italian.)

Tor. Oh, a deadly rencontre! [To Leon. Oh, lady!

Leon. Alas! what is to be done? Prudence. Sweet lady!

Tor. Yes; I know it all. Prudence! Oh,
Unveil thine eyes;

The stars are dim, the moon is gone, The image of my, love will follow me.
The hour's for love, and love alone,

Spa. Aye, and the original, ton, if you
Ob, hear its sighs.

don't take care.

[ Aside.

She's coming. [Whispers to Torrento. BONORA appears at the Window, and sings.

Tor. [To Leonora)- and make me miser-(Span.)

able. [He declaims] Ruin! anguisb! sudden Gay Serenaders, away, away!

death! » A bar of music.

Leon. Are you determined to die?

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