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and you afk me for patience-but I'll not be in a paffion, it's no ufe-he's not worth it—he's not worth it(prepares the letter.)

Pen. Now then

Sir B. " Friend," -there, there, read it yourfelf, read it yourfelf-(She takes the letter afide.) Fer. (without) D'ye hear, tell the recruits not to make fuch an infernal bustle.

Wait. Yes, Sir.

Fer. And tell Corporal Barrel, I want him. (Enters looking at papers, and not feeing Sir Barometer.) Bravo!-nothing like business to keep a man alive.— Sir Barometer has read the letter by this time-it's well I got into his good graces before he knew me. I dare fay old buckram has enlarged on fome of my boyish follies.

Sir B. (Afide.) Boyifh follies!-fwindling and feduction, boyish follies.-(loud.) Oh, you fcoundrel,

Fer. What-you've read the letter?

Sir B. I have Sir

Fer: So I thought.

Pen. (coming forward.) I don't believe a syllable—
Fer. That's right.

Sir B. It's all true.

Fer. That's wrong.

Sir B. Did'nt you this inftant acknowledge it? Fer. No,'till I know my accufation,-why fhould I plead guilty,

Sir B. (Afide.) That's true-well then, anfwer me, in the first place, hav'n't you feduced the daughter of Old Seagrave of this very town?

Fer. What! my fweet, charming, innocent little Patty-no, by heaven, I love her too well!

Pen. I thought fo-and Obadiah is an old crab---
Sir B. Madam-he's my friend.

Pen. Paa! then there's a pair of ye.
Sir B. But I'll afk Old Seagrave myfelf.

Fer. He won't tell you a word about it.
Sir B. I'll go to him, Sir- (threatening.)
Fer. You had better ftay where you are, Sir.
Sir B. Why-for what reafon?

Fer. He has been dead and buried these two months.

Sir B. Dead! poor fellow-your conduct has kill'd him.

Fer. Perhaps fo—I call'd in the doctor.

Pen. Well-and what effect?

Fer. In a week he was incurable.

Pen. What did he prescribe?

Fer. Alteratives

Sir B. (Anxiously.) And they fucceeded?
Fer. Yes-in a fortnight he was dead.

Sir B. And now, to complete your inquiry, you must go and diftrefs the poor girl for the rent, to get her again in your power.

Fer. Sir, thefe fufpicions are too cruel-you are deceived, upon my honour.

Sir B. Honour!-you talk of honour! that are purfued by officers, from whom your only chance of escaping is by diftreffing thofe you have already made completely miferable.

Pen. Don't be in a paffion, brother-its no useI fee very clearly that this is all a contrivance of Bdbrim's to injure your ward-for you may recollect 'twas one of your wife plans to fign a will with the reverfion in favour of this old viper.-Oh, I'm convinced he's a hypocrite.

Sir B. It cannot be, fure, it's impoffible-my friend Obadiah Broadbrim, -I'll not believe it,

Enter Corporal BARREL, quite tipfy.

Corp. It's very true for all that,-oh, he'll make an excellent foldier,-he's as upright as a ramrod.

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Pen. Why he's drunk

Corp. Not very-he's a little cut to be fure,-we foon made a wet quaker of him.

Sir B. What the devil does he mean?

Fer, Why, Barrel, you're in liquor

Corp. Your honor's pardon-the liquor's in the Barrell.

Fer. No wonder there has been fuch a noise-you have been making merry to fome tune.

Corp. Very pretty tune your honor-I've been giving 'em "Britons ftrike home"-that generally

makes fome noife.

Pen. He has been drinking fpirits

Corp. Yes, the King's health in punch,-'twas enough to put fpirits in any old foldier's heart-but water, cold water, your Ladyfhip, 'twould have been the fame-with fuch a toaft as that in it.

Fer. (Afide.) Now I can't for the foul of me be angry with him-come here, fcoundrel. Corp. (Turning Juddenly to Sir B.) Don't ye hear the Captain call?

Fer. Attention! (Barrel starts round.) Give me the orderly book, 'twas to you I fpoke.

Corp. 'Tisn't orderly to call any gemman a fcoundrel, Captain-my naine is not scoundrel, Scoundrel? (muttering.)

Fer. (Looking at the book.) Um-um-um-n Short, fix foot four, ha! why what the devil's all this-Obadiah Broadbrim! of Gracechurch-Street! London! aged forty-feven! meafur'd by the yard! and as tall as the Monument! Sir B. What! ObadiahPen. A quaker a foldier!

Fer. S'death he has not enlisted-

Corp. Yes, but he has tho-the fpirit moved him-(making figns of drinking.)

Fer. Confufion! oh-there'll be another bustlego firrah and get fober. (to the Corporal.)

Corp. I can get fober as foon as any other gemman-but fcoundrel's a word-Captain, that-but it's all right, I know my duty-but if any other man had call'd me fcoundrel-it's all right-I know my duty. [Exit Corporal.

Pen. Now then for your visit to the Seagraves;from them you may hear the plain truth at onceand we shall be able to make our escape from this angelic place.

Fer. My dear Sir-here has been fome incompre. henfible mistake-fufpend your judgment for a while-and if I do not clear every thing up to your fatisfaction-why then difcard me for ever as a wretch, loft to every fentiment of honor,-and disgracing at once the character of a britifh foldier, and an English gentleman.

[Exit. Sir B.I'll not lofe a moment-on their report depends his future fortune. Should he be guiltless, I fhall provide for him as my own fon-if the charge be true,O-I fhall be in a monstrous paffion. [Exeunt.

SCENE 111.-WILLIAM SEAGRAVE and PATTY difcovered-Tea things, &c. on the Table.

Pat. Indeed, brother, I'll do any thing to please you, I'll fing a little ballad I learn't while you were at fea-you have never heard it.

Far o'er the fea when torn from you,
And my fond heart beat ftrong and true-
How fwift, alas! the veffel flew :

From Mary.

Refulgent funk the wearied fun,
"And o'er the glaffy waters fhone;
"Still it was dark, for thou wer't gone.

The filver wave flow'd soft and clear,
And bright as if reflected there,

Bleft Mary.

Was feen the fairest of the fair.

My Mary.

"My throbbing heart heav'd many a sigh,
"The tear drop gliften'd in my eye,
"And fancy told me--thou wer't nigh.

"Dear Mary.

"But foon thy lovely form had past,
"And ocean with it's fwelling blast,
Difpell'd the dream too fweet to last,

86

"Of Mary.

Will. Thanks, thanks, my dear fifter. Oh Woman, virtuous and lovely-even in misfortune's hour, when all things earthly fail-ftill can'ft thou footh and charm us.

Pat. Ah, William, had you not enlifted, I should ftill have been happy.

Will. What elfe could be done?

Pat. Any thing, I would have ftarved, rather than you should have gone for a foldier, I am fure 'twill break my heart.

Will. Had Charles Fervor indeed known of our distress,—but alas, he's as poor as ourselves.

Pat. He faid he expected leave to raise a company-if fo, and he could get his guardian's confent, we were to be married, I am fure I love him dearly, he was fo kind to my poor father.

Will. I fhould rejoice to fee fuch a man the husband of my sifter,-but do not, my dear Patty, let your mind dwell on an event fo uncertain.