Enter WILLIAM.

Will. I am sorry, Nell, to make you wait, but it was an old friend.

Nell. Aye, aye, some one from Suffolk, I suppose, who has brought you news of your dear Nancy.

Will. I wish it had: it's unaccountable that I don't hear from her.

Nell. Unaccountable! not at all: I suppose she has changed her mind.

Will. No, Nelly, that's impossible, and you would think so, had you heard how she plighted her faith to me, and vowed, notwithstanding her parents were my enemies, nothing but death should prevent our union.

Nell. O, I beg your pardon; if her father and mother indeed are against you, you need not doubt her constancy. But come, don't be melancholy. I tell you, I want to have you stay somewhere near the inn, and perhaps I may bring you some intelligence of her.

Will. How! dear Nell?

Nell. Though indeed I think you are very foolish to plague yourself so, for even had Nancy loved you well enough to have carried your knapsack, you would have been very imprudent to have suffered her.

Will. Aye, but prudence, you know, is not a soldier's virtue. Its our business to hold life itself cheap, much more the comforts of it. Shew me a young fellow in our regiment, who, if he gains the heart of a worthy girl, and afraid to marry her for want of a little wealth, I would have him drummed out of the regiment for discretion.

Nell. Very fine! but must not the poor girl share in all your fatigues and mishaps?

Will. There, Nell, I own is the objection; but tenderness and affection may soften even these; yet if my Nancy ever makes the trial, though I may not be able to prevent her from undergoing hardships, I am sure my affection will make her wonder at their being called so; I wish I could once boast that the experience was made,

AIR.

My Nancy quits the rural train
A camp's distress to prove,
All other ills she can sustain,
But living from her love.

Yet, dearest, to your Soldier's there,
Would not your spirits fail,

To mark the hardships you must share,
Dear Nancy of the dale.

Or should you, love, each danger share,
Ah! how shall I secure

Your health, 'mid toils which you are born
To scothe but not endure?

A thousand perils I must view,

A thousand ills assail,

Nor must I tremble e'en for you,

Dear Nancy of the dale.

SCENE II.-An open View near the Camp.
Enter O'DAUB.

O Daub. Well, to be sure this same Camp is a prett'y place, with their drums, and their fifes, and their gigs, and their marches, and their ladies in their regimentals; upon my conscience I believe they'd form a troop of side-saddle cavalry if there was any hope of an invasion. But now I am alone by myself, 'tis time I should be after taking my plan; and here I see are some of my directions for it. [Pulls out a pocketbook and pencil.] I can't think what it is makes my hand shake so, unless it is Mr. Blaud's wine that is got into my head: so, so! Let me study my orders a little, for I am not used to this business. O. P. and P S. Who the devil is to understand that? O! here is. the explanation: P. S. the prompter's side, and O. P. opposite the prompter. So I'm to mark down the view as it is to be taken on one side, and the other. Very well: P. S. and O. P. Let me see. Somewhere hereabout is certainly the best point to take it from.

**

[Retires.

Enter SERJEANT and the Two COUNTRYMEN. 1st Countryman. There, you rogues, there he is! 2d C. Aye, aye, that's him sure enough; I have seen him skulking about these two days; if he ben't a spy I'll suffer hanging.

Serj. He certainly must be a spy by his drawing figures.

2d C. Do seize on him, or the whole camp may be blown up before we are aware.

O' Daub. Prompter's side.

Serj. Hush! we shall convict him out of his own

mouth.

O'Daub. O yes, the Star and Garter must certainly

be P. S.

Serj. P. S. What the devil does he say?

2d C. Treason, you may be sure, by your not understanding him.

O' Daub. And then O. P. will have the advantage. Serj. O. P. That's the old Pretender.

Jacobite spy, my life on't.

A damn'd

1st C. And P. S. is Prince Charles, I suppose.

Serj. No, you fool; P. S. is the Pretender's son. 2d C. Aye, aye, like enough.

O' Daub. Memorandum-the officers' tents are in

the rear of the line.

2d C. Mark that.

O' Daub. N. B. the General's tents are all houses. 1st C. Remember that.

O' Daub. Then the park of artillery; I shall never make any thing of that. Oh! the devil burn the park of artillery!

Serj. There's a villain; he'll burn the park of artiltillery, will he?

O'Daub. Well, faith, this camp is easier taken than I thought it was.

Serj. Is it so, you rogue? but you shall find the difference on't. O, what a providential discovery!

O' Daub. To be sure the people will like it much, and in the course of the winter it may surprise his majesty.

Serj. O, the villain! seize him directly-Fellow, you are a dead man if you stir!-We seize you, sir, as a spy. O' Daub. A spy-phoo, phoo; get about your busi

ness.

Serj. Bind him, and blindfold him if he resists.

2d C Aye, blindfold him for certain, and search him too; I dare say his pockets are crowded with powder, matches, and tinder-boxes, at every corner.

O' Daub. Tunder and ouns! what do you mean? 1st C. Hold him fast.

O' Daub. Why, here's some ladies coming, who know me. Here's Lady Sarah Sash, and Lady Plume, who were at the Fête-Champêtre, and will give me a good character.

Serj. Why, villain, your papers have proved you a spy, and sent by the old Pretender.

O' Daub. O Lord! O Lord! I never saw the old gentleman in all my life.

Serj. Why, you dog, did'nt you say the camp was easier taken than you thought it was.

2d. C. Aye, deny that.

Serj. And that you would burn the artillery, and surprise his majesty-so come, you had better confess before you are hanged.

O' Daub. Hanged for a spy! O, to be sure myself is got into a pretty scrape.

Serj. Bring him away; but blindfold him, the dog

shall see no more.

O' Daub. I'll tell you what, Mr. Soldier, or Mr. Sarjeant, or what the devil's your name, upon my conscience and soul I'm nothing at all but an Irish painter employed by Monsieur Lanternburg.

Serj. There, he has confessed himself a foreigner, and employed by Marshal Leatherbag.

2d C. O, he'll be convicted by his tongue. You may swear he is a foreigner by his lingo.

1st C. Bring him away. I long too see him hanging. O' Daub. Tunder and wounds! ifI am hanged, what will become of the theatre and the managers; and the

devil fly away with you all together, for a parcel of [They hurry him off.

red black-guards!

SCENE III.-Part of the Camp.

Enter LADY GORGET, LADY SASH and LADY PLUME.

Lady Plume. O! my dear Lady Sash, indeed, you are too severe; and I'm sure if Lady Gorget had been here she would have been of my opinion.

L. Sash. Not in the least.

L. Plume. You must know, she has been rallying my poor brother, Sir Harry Bouquet, for not being in the militia, and so ill-naturedly.

L. Sash. So he should indeed; but all I said was, he looked so French and so finical, that I thought he ran a risk of being mistaken for another female chevalier.

L. Plume. Yes, you must confess, that our situation is open to a little raillery: a few elegancies of accommodation are considerably wanting, though one's toilet, as Sir Harry says, is not absolutely spread on a drum head.

L. Sash. He vows there is an eternal confusion between stores military, and millinery; such a description he gives-On one shelf, cartridges and cosmetics, pouches and patches; here a stand of arms, there a file of black pins; in one drawer bullet-moulds and essencebottles, pistols and tweezer cases, with battle-powder mixed with marechelle.

L. Gorget. O, the malicious creature!

L. Plume. But pray, Lady Sash, don't renew it, for see, here comes Sir Harry to join us.

Enter SIR HARRY BOUQUET.

Sir Harry. Now, Lady Sash, I beg a truce; Lady Gorget, I am rejoiced to see you at this delectable spot, where, Lady Plume, you may be amused with such a dismal variety.

L. Gorget. You see, Lady Plume, he perseveres. L. Sash. I assure you, Sir Harry, I should have been against you in your raillery.

Sir Harry. Now, as Gad's my judge, I admire the