this moment, I haven't half a crown in the world, I'm such a miserable dog, ha! ha! ha!

Miss Dolly B. Ha! ha! ha! Estate in Herefordshire!-Oh, Lud! then we can make, at least―ay, twenty hogsheads of cyder.

Lack. Make cyder-hem! Oh, you elegant[Aside.] Garlick Hill!

Miss Dolly B, I've a monstrous mind-Now answer me one question, that's all-If I should consent to run off with you, would you leave me standing here, for great travelling boots, or your dancing pumps? Lack. Me! Not for the Pigot diamond!

Miss Dolly B. No?-come along.

Lack. Where?

Miss Dolly B. Lord, don't you know?

Lack. If we had but a chaise, and a priestMiss Dolly B. One's in the house, and t'other's at the door below.

Lack. Indeed! My dear, you're young, and frank -I throw myself, and all my fortune, at your feet, in spite of figs, raisins, canvass sleeves, and moist sugar-Oh, you amazing fine creature !

Miss Dolly B. Oh, you astonishing charming man! [Exeunt.

Enter COLONEL EPAULETTE, speaks as entering. Colonel E. All is ready-Allons, ma chere mademoiselle.

Enter TALLYHO, in French Boots, &c. speaks as entering.

Tall. Well, Doll, here I am, booted and pistoled[Looks about.] How!

Colonel E. Aha! de lady is gone.

Tall. Ay, where is she gone?

Colonel E. Oui, vere have you put her?

Tall. [Resolutely.] Yes, tell me what you have done with her

Colonel E. Moi?-I did leave her here.

Tall. You mean, you found her here, master poacher.

Enter SIR JOHN BULL.

Tall. So, there, you wouldn't give your daughter to an honest Englishman, and now, she's whipped up by a poaching Frenchman !-I give you joy of your son-in-law, my old nag, ha ha ha!

Sir J. B. [To COLONEL E.] Where is Doll? Colonel E. Ask dat gentleman dat did stole her. Sir J. B. Hearkye, you Yorkshire bite, you sha'n't rob me of my child.

Tall. What, the devil, are you mad, old Holofernes! It's that there greyhound has whipped up little puss.

Sir J. B. I believe it.

Colonel E. Diable m'emporte-Zounds-Splutter and oons-it is no such ting.

Tall. It is.

Colonel E. It is not-You are as wrong in dis, as when you took me for a taileur.

Sir J. B. Where have you hid my child? restore her, or, I'll Cressy and Agincourt you—I'll be a Black Prince to you. Why, Dolly Bull! [Calling.-Exit. Colonel E. Nay, but, Sir John

Tall. I am so vexed and perplexed-Oh, if I had you at Dover, I'd fight you-ay, with a pair of queen Anne's pocket pistols.

Colonel E. Monsieur, any thing to oblige you-I vil fight, or let it alone-all von to me-ma foi ! Who's there? [Calls.] Hey! Le Fleche, Justine![Exit.

Tall. Oho! since I find I am jockeyed in this match, I must look sharp to my other matches-See what Captain Henry has been about-This French pony is now in his own stall, and let him stay there-A silly tit! to prefer monsieur, to such a tight lad as I!

but if I get once back to dear London, with a fob full of French gold, see, if I let the finest lady in the land fetter my gamarets.

SCENE IV.

LEPOCHE'S HOUSE.

Enter LEPOCHE, strutting.

Lep. Aha! 'tis certain dat I ave someting in my air dat is grande-1 wrong my bon addresse and figure, to stick to dis taileur trade; Oui, dat is de reason of Madame Rosa's scorn. If de Lady de Bull did take me for a colonel, dressed as I vas, vat must I be a-lamode de noblesse?-Aha! I have a tought; I vill surprise Madam Rosa into de love for my person! [Sings.] Oui, le Marquis de Papillon clothes fit me exactement-how lucky I did not take dem home yesterday! ---Aha! Oh, here come de Madame Rosa! [Retires.

Enter ROSA.

Rosa. Ah, could I again behold my dearest lordevery separation, from those we love, seems a chasm in existence-No danger, I think, from my brother Henry; he's now too busy with his own love, to give any interruption to mine: and, yet, I think, had his passion for this young lady but commenced previous to that of Lord Winlove's for me, Henry would not now lament the life, which, he imagines, he has taken. Enter LEPOCHE in a tawdry Dress-Kneels before her. Rosa. [Not recollecting him.] Pray, sir, if I may

Lep. Heigho! Behold de gentilhomme dat love a you-throw your arms round my neck like solitaire, and give me kiss, my charming fair.

Rosa. Trifling-Impertinent !

Lep. Impertinent-Aha! [Rises in a Passion.] Do you know who you talk to, mademoiselle ?-Impertinent!-You are great lady, indeed, but I vas just now, (little as you may tink of me) taken for a colonel, by my Lady de Bull, though, perhaps, not so great as you, but, by gar, she vas tree times as big--Impertinent !-See, I vill be revenge-may I never set a stitch, but I vill have satisfaction-I am enragé !

Enter NANNETTE.

You, Nannette, stand out of my valk, or I may put my feet upon you.

Nan. Oh, lud, what's the matter?

Rosa. Nannette, step with me into my chamber.

[Exit. Lep. Dere you may stay in your chamber-Aha! since you scorn me, Madame Runavay, I vill deliver you up to de Lady Abbess.

Nan. But Miss Rosa wants me.

Lep. I vant you, and I am your maître-[Towards the Door.] you vant a gentilhomme, do you?—but, dere, madam, you may play vid your pincushionvantrebleu! Aha; I am so fine and clever, I must ave somebody-Nannette, you come and kiss me. Nan. Pooh! Nonsense! Lep. Comment!

Nan. Lud, sir, what signifies your strutting about there like a jackdaw, and there's the foreman waiting to take home that suit of clothes on you. [Exit.

Lep. So-I vas just now impertinent, and now I am jackdaw-fort bien !-de devil's in all de vomen about me to-day-[Knocking without.] Malpeste!-

[Looking.] here is dat Lord Winlove returned again— By gar, he vill cut my throat-best hide a littel. [Exit.

Enter LORD WINLOVE.

Lord W. No, I cannot drive her from my heart— let me not condemn her too hastily—I'll first know to a certainty who accompanied her from this house yesterday morning-My death, from that rencontre with Henry, is everywhere believed, and even a reward offered for apprehending him-Well, one comfort, I'm a living witness of his innocence-But now for his lovely sister-Ah, see where she sits! dissolved in grief and tears. [Runs out to her,

Enter HENRY.

Henry. Here you, Lepoche! Where is this fellow? -what has he done with Rosa? 'Pray Heaven she ha'n't given him the slip! Now, with Tallyho's consent, and the amiable Celia's acceptance of my passion, I've no alloy to my golden delights, but the mournful memory of Lord Winlove, thus revived, in my unhappy sister's recent elopement.-Was she still in possession of her unsullied name, I, of my Celia's love, and the esteem of such a friend as Lord Winlove could have been-Fortune might do her worst.

AIR. HENRY.

Let Fame sound her trumpet, and cry,
Let glory re-echo the strain;

"To the war!"

The full tide of honour may flow from the scar,
And heroes may smile on their pain.

The treasures of autumn let Bacchus display,
And stagger about with his bowl,

On science, let Sol beam the lustre of day,
And wisdom give light to the soul.