the man, that stood by me at sea, should be welcome to sit before me at land.

Sir Geo. That's true, my dear John; offer to stand up, and, damme, if I don't knock you down-zounds! I am as dry as a powder match-to sail at the rate of ten knots an hour, over fallow and stubble, from my own house, but half a league on this side of Gosport, and not catch these deserters!

John. In this here chase you wanted the ballast of wisdom.

Sir Geo. How, sirrah! hasn't my dear old friend, Dick Broadside, got the command of the ship I so often fought myself-to man it for him with expedition, didn't I (out of my own pocket) offer two guineas over the king's bounty to every seaman that would enter on board her? Hav'n't these three scoundrels fingered the shot, then ran, and didn't I do right to run after them? Damn the money! I no more mind, that than a piece of clinker; but 'twas the pride of my heart to see my beloved ship (the Eagle) well mann'd, when my old friend is the commander.

John. But since you've laid yourself up in ordirary, retired to live in quiet, on your estate, and had done with all sea affairs

Sir Geo. John, John, a man should forget his own convenience for his country's good.-Though Broadside's letter said these fellows were lurking about this part of Hampshire, yet still it's all hide and

seek.

John. Your ill luck.

Sir Geo. Mine, you swab?

Miss

John. Ay, you've money and gold; but grace and good fortune have shook hands with you these nineteen years, for that rogue's trick you play'd poor Amelia, by deceiving her with a sham marriage, when you passed yourself for Captain Seymour, and then putting off to sea, leaving her to break her poor heart, and since marrying another lady,

Sir Geo. Wasn't I forced to it by my father? John.-Ay; because she had a great fortin, her death too was a judgment upon you.

Sir Geo. Why, you impudent dog-fish!-upbraid me for running into false bay, when you were my pilot? Wasn't it you, even brought me the false clergyman, that performed the sham marriage with Amelia?

John. Yes, you think so; but I took care to bring you a real clergyman.

Sir Geo. But is this a time or place for your lectures? At home, abroad, sea, or land, you will still badger me! mention my Wild Oats again and-you scoundrel, since the night my bedcurtains took fire, when you were my boatswain aboard the Eagle, you've got me quite into leading strings-you snatched me upon deck, and tossed me into the sea,-to save me from being burnt, I was almost drowned.

John. You would but for me

Sir Geo. Yes, you dragged me out by the ear, like a waterdog-last week, 'cause you found the tenth bottle uncorked, you rushed in among my friends, and ran away with me; and, next morning Captain O'Shanaghan sends me a challenge for quitting the company, when he was in the chair! so, to save me from a headache, you'd like to've got my brains blown

out.

John. Oh, very well; be burnt in your bed, and tumble in the water, by jumping into boats, like a tight fellow as you are, and poison yourself with sloe juice; see if John cares a piece of mouldy biscuit about it. But I wish you hadn't made me your valet de shamber. No sooner was I got on shore, after five years dashing among rocks, shoals, and breakers than you set me on a high-trotting cart horse, which knockt me up and down like an old bomb-boat in the Bay of Biscay, and here's nothing to drink after all! Because at home you keep open house, you think every body else does the same.

Sir Geo. Why, by sailing into this strange port, we may be more free than welcome.

John. Holloa! I'll never cease piping, till it calls up a drop to wet my whistle.

[Exit. Sir Geo. Yes, (as John Dory remarks) I fear my trip through life will be attended with heavy squalls and foul weather. When my conduct to poor Amelia comes athwart my mind, it's a hurricane for that day, and turn in at night, the ballad of " Margaret and William," rings in my ear. [Sings.]" In glided Margaret's grimly ghost.' Oh, zounds! the dismals are coming upon me, and can't get a cheering glass toholloa!

Enter EPHRAIM SMOOTH.

Eph. Friend, what wouldst thou have?
Sir Geo. Grog.

Eph. Neither man nor woman of that name abideth here.

Sir Geo. Ha! ha! ha! man and woman! then if you'll bring me Mr. Brandy and Mrs. Water, we'll couple them, and the first child probably will be Master Grog.

Eph. Thou dost speak in parables, which I understand not.

Sir Geo. Sheer off with your sanctified poop, and send the gentleman of the house.

Eph. The owner of this mansion is a maiden, and she approacheth.

Enter LADY AMARANTH.

Lady Am. Do I behold?-It is! how dost thou, uncle?

Sir Geo. Is it possible you can be my niece, Lady Maria Amaranth Thunder?

Lady Am. I am the daughter of thy deceased brother Loftus, called Earl Thunder, but no lady, my name is Mary.

Sir Geo. But, zounds!-how is all this? Eh? unexpectly find you in a strange house, of which old Sly here tells me you're the mistress; turned quaker, and disclaim your title!

Lady Am. Thou know'st the relation to whose care my father left me?

Sir Geo. Well! I know our cousin, old Dovehouse, was a quaker! but I did'nt suspect he would have made you one.

Lady Am. Being now gathered to his fathers, le did bequeath unto me his worldly goods; amongst them this mansion, and the lands around it.

Eph. So thou becom❜st and continue one of the faithful. I am executor of his will, and by it, I cannot give thee, Mary, possession of these goods, but on those conditions.

Sir Geo. Tell me of your thee's and thou's, quakers' wills and mansions! I say, girl, though on the death of your father, my eldest brother, Loftus, Earl Thunder, from your being a female, his title devolved to his next brother, Robert; though, as a woman, you can't be an earl, nor as a woman, you can't make laws for your sex and our sex, yet, as the daughter of a peer, you are, and, by Heaven, shall be called Lady Maria Amaranth Thunder.

Eph. Thou makest too much noise, friend.

Sir Geo. Call me friend, and I'll bump your block against the capstern.

Eph. Yea, this is a man of danger, and I will leave Mary to abide it,

Sir Geo. 'Sfire, my lady

Lady Am. Title is yanity.

Enter ZACHARIAH.

[Exit.

Zach. Shall thy cook, this day, roast certain birds of the air, call'd woodcocks, and ribs of the exer likewise?

Lady Am. All. My uncle sojourneth with me peradventure, and my meal shall be a feast, friend Zachariah.

Zach. My tongue shall say so, friend Mary.

Sir Geo. [Strikes him.] Sir George Thunder bids. thee remember to call your mistress, Lady AmaJanth.

Zach. Verily, George.

Sir Geo. George! sirrah, though a younger brother, the honour of knighthood was my reward for placing the glorious British flag over that of a daring enemy-therefore address me with respect.

Zach. Yea, I do, good George.

[Exit. Sir Geo. George and Mary! here's levelling, here's abolition of title with a vengeance!

Lady Am. Kinsman, be patient; thou, and thy son, my cousin Henry, whom I have not beheld, I think these twelve years, shall be welcome to my dwelling. Where now abideth the youth?

Sir Geo. At the Naval Academy, at Portsmouth. Lady Am. May I not see the young man? Sir Geo. What, to make a quaker of him?-No, no. But, hold, as she's now a wealthy heiress, her marrying my son Harry, will keep up and preserve her title in our own family too. [Aside.] Wouldst thou really be glad to see him? thou shalt, Mary. Ha ha! ha! John Dory! [Calling.] Here comes my valet de chambre.

Enter JOHN DORY.

John. Why, sir-such a breeze sprung up!

Sir Geo. Avast, old man of war; you must instantly convoy my son from Portsmouth.

John. Then I must first convoy him to Portsmouth, for he happens to be out of the dock already. Sir Geo. What wind now?

John. You know, on our quitting harbour—