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sibility of his ever getting one, he has begun te scribble—commenc'd bookseller, and started a weekly newspaper—they say most authors come to a morsel of bread, and so may he, if he happens to be lucky.

Mrs. Honey. He's an excellent young man notwithstanding; by-the-bye, I wonder he has not called; he surely must have heard of our arrival at the Cottage—

, Stir. The Cottage! there's a precious nickname for a mansion that has cost me fifteen thousand pounds! The Cottage! a place like a labyrinth, that when I am at one end of it, .curse me if I don't lose my way before I can get to the other.

Clara. Certainly the name is not very appropriate.

Stir. Appropriate! why zounds ! you may as well call a palace a pigsty: my old friends in the "City will think I am crazy, when they direct t6 old Adam Stirling at the Cottage. (0'Daisy without, "There was a bold dragoon.") Oh, there's that noisy fellow, Rourke O'Daisy.

Enter O'daisy.

O'Daisy. Eh! I beg pardon of your Honor's honor, but there came just now a great big fellow to the lodge gate, and kept tolling the bell, till there was a greater hubbubboo than at a wake in Ballinatrotty.

Stir. An express from town, no doubt. I thought there was something a-foot.

O'Daisy. The devil a yard of him was a-foot— he was outside of a horse.

Mrs. Honey. Something of consequence.

O'Daisy. Your Ladyship may say that thing

and tell no lie neither. He said it vvas of very great weight, and, by the powers, I believe him, or he would not have had a horse to carry it.

Mrs. Honey. And what is it?

O" Daisy. A Letter it is—he told me to deliver it immediately into the hands of the right owner; and that's the reason I came myself, because there should be no blunder.

Stir, Ah, 'tis for old Adam—

O Daisy. Is it? by the powers, then, 'tis the first time I ever knew old Adam was a gentlewoman.'

Mrs. Honey. 'Tis for me, I dare say—come, give it me.

CfDaisy. Give it you—the name's Honeymouth—this must be the honeymouth, for it certainly belongs to the sweetest lady of the two,, and therefore you have nothing at all to do with it. (Giving it to Clara). Leave me alone for the service of the ladies—I'm sure to be right there, whether I'm wrong or not. O bless your sweet Hps! that's the most gentlemanly young lady I have seen since I left Ballinatrotty.

[Exit O'Daisy.

Stir. Augusta Carolina! there's for you—there's the effect of novel reading. Her husband (rest his soul) happened to be called Honeymouth, so that his name now attaches to her like a libel. Honeymouth! her mouth looks a great deal more like the family lemon-squeezer (aside).

Mrs. Honey. (Looking at the Letter). From Mr. Jumble, I protest.

C(ara. Indeed! from Mr. Jumble!

Stir. So, .now I shall be plagued with him. Well, what says he?

Mrs. Honey. You shall hear. (Reads). "Allow

"me, dearest Madam, to congratulate myself on "your arrival at the Cottage: I Bhall take the "earliest opportunity of kissing your fair hands, "and those of my youthful companion, Clara." Stir. The devil he will!

Mrs. Honey. Stay, here's a postscript. (Reads). "I have just received from town a new novel, "called 'The Victorious Lover;' and I hope you "will think he has sufficient merit to authorise "my introducing him at the Cottage." Delightful!

Stir. Yes, very delightful. I see how 'twill be—this is to be the Enchanted Castle, Clara an imprisoned damsel, I am to be the cock giant, and you the fiery dragon.

Mrs. Honey. How!

Stir. D—n his impudence! yes, yes! but when he and his "Victorious Lover" get footing in this house, he shall be welcome to keep it for his pains.

Mrs. Honey. I am astonish'd, cousin Stirling ^—old Mr. Jumble was your most intimate friend.

Stir. So he was, but that's no reason I should make his son a present of my daughter. Old Jumble hinted to me, that a small estate would fall to his son when he came of age; but when we open'd the Will, there was hardly enough to pay for the funeral. But come, I must have a little private conversation with you about young Cypher. I have ask'd him down for a day or two. I never saw him, but I hear he's a quiet steady fellow—none of your novel readers—he has ten thousand pounds in his pocket, and yet sticks to business—that's the boy for om Adam Stirling. Come along, Coz.

[Exeunt Stirling and Mrs. Honeymouth.

Clara. Brought up together from our earliest youth, how cruel of my father thus to separate me from the only man I can ever love as a husband. Love too often withers like a gaudy flower; but when friendship is the soil it springs from, like the constant ivy, it will thrive for ever.

SONG—O.A.BA,

I.

Yes, well I remember how happy the hour*

I pass'd with my love in the cool shady bow'rs; _

How cbeerfol, how gaily, time flitted away,

Pleasure beam'd on each minute, Hope brighten'd each day:

Ah! little then thinking that soon overcast,

Our hopes would be wither'd, our joy* would be past.

It.

** In this life of uncertainty oft it appear*,

"Those who smile in the morn, in the evening shed tears l

** So fate on the sun of my day cast a frown,

** Tho' in smiles it arose, 'twill in sorrow go down:

*• For my bosom is chill'd by adversity's blast,

"And ray hopes are all wither d, my joys are all past.

HI.

•* But grateful sensations, if friendship can give,

"For them, and them only, I still wish to live. f

m And when 'tis my lot from this life to depart,

"Tho' deaden d my feelings, tho' cold my poor heart,

"Deep and keen will the pang be, as sighing at last

f My hopes we re soon witlier'd, my joys were soon pa6t."

[Exit. SCENE II.

A Lodge in the Cottage Style, with House qnd Garden, seen through the Gate.

(Dolly 0'Daisy singing without.)

"He's straight and he's tall as a poplar tree,
"His cheeks are as red as a rose," &c.

Enter Dolly O'daisy from the Lodge.

Dolly. Oh dear, I wish Rourke was come back; I don't half like his staying at the house so long, it's for no good, that's a sure thing; and as to his taking the letter, 'tis nothing more than an excuse to see that gauky creature, Sally Broom, the housemaid. Heigh ho! I didn't think he'd have been half so wild after I married him; but these Irishmen are the very devil after the girls, that's the truth on't.

O'Daisy (Coming through the gate). Ah! ah! my beautiful t'other half, is it yourself that's there?

Dolly. So! you are come at last—

O'Daisy. At last! you would not have me come before I was gone, would you? Oh! Botheram, by all the butter-milk and potatoes in Old Ireland, but my darling here, Mrs. Dolly O'Daisy, is a little bit jealous.

Dolly. Well, and if I was, it's enough to make any poor girl jealous; you had no business to stay so long.

O'Daisy. How the devil's a man to do a job properly without you give him time; but it's the

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