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beneath your rank; and practices, so unworthy | ALTON.] Do not alarm yourself, my Amelia !—

of your sex.

Lady Alt. You talk in riddles, my lord! Lord Fal. This gentleman shall explain them. Here, madam! here is the engine of your malice, the instrument of your vengeance, your prime minister, Mr Spatter.

Lady Alt. What have I to do with Mr Spatter?

Lord Fal. To do mischief-to intercept letters, and break them open; to overhear private conversations, and betray them; toLady Alt. Have you laid any thing of this kind to my charge, sir?

[TO SPATTER. Spat. I have been obliged to speak the truth, though much against my will, indeed, madamn.

Lady Alt. The truth! thou father of lies, did ever any truth proceed from thee? What! is his lordship your new patron! A fit Mæcenas for thee, thou scandal to the belles lettres!

Lord Fal. Your rage at this detection is but a fresh conviction of your guilt.

Lady Alt. Do not triumph, monster! you shall still feel the superiority I have over you. The object of your wishes is no longer under your protection; the officers of the government entered the house at the same time with myself, with a warrant to seize both Amelia and her father.

Lord Fal. Confusion! Are not they gone then? La France! villain! run, and bring me word!

La France. I go, milor!

[Exit. Lady Alt. Do not flatter yourself with any hopes; they have not escaped; here they are, secured in proper hands.

Lord Fal. Death and distraction! now I am completely miserable.

Enter SIR WILLIAM DOUGLAS, AMELIA, OWEN, and Officers.

Lady Alt. Yes, your misery is complete indeed; and so shall be my revenge. Oh! your servant, madam! [Turning to AMELIA] You now see to what a condition your pride and obstinacy have reduced you. Did not I bid you tremble at the consequences?

Ame. It was here alone that I was vulnerable. [Holding her father's hand.] Oh, madam! [Turning to LADY ALTON.] by the virtues that should adorn your rank, by the tenderness of your sex, I conjure you, pity my distress! do but release my father, and there are no concessions, however humiliating, which you may not exact

from me.

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Do not be concerned, sir! [To SIR WILLIAM.] Your enemies shall still be disappointed. Although ignorant of your arrival, I have, for some time past, exerted all my interest in your favour, and, by the mediation of those still more powerful, I do not despair of success. Your case is truly a compassionate one; and in that breast, from which alone mercy can proceed, thank Heaven, there is the greatest reason to expect it.

sir.

Sir Wil. I am obliged to you for your concern,

Lord Ful. Oh, I owe you all this, and much more-But this is no time to speak of my offences, or repentance.

Lady Alt. This is mere trifling. I thought you knew on what occasion you came hither, sir.

[To the Officer. Offi. Your reproof is too just, madam. I attend vou, sir. [TO SIR WILLIAM. Lord Fal. Hold! Let me prevail on you, sir, [To the Officer.] to suffer them to remain here till to-morrow morning. I will answer for the consequences.

Offi. Pardon me, my lord! we should be happy to oblige you; but we must discharge the duty of our office.

Lady Fal. Distraction!

Sir Wil. Come, then! we follow you, sir! Be comforted, my Amelia! for my sake, be comforted! Wretched as I am, your anxiety shocks me more than my own misfortunes.

As they are going out, Enter Freeport. Free. Heyday! what now! the officers here again! I thought we had satisfied you this morning. What is the meaning of all this? Offi. This will inform you, sir.

[Giving the warrant. Free. How's this? Let me see! [Reading.] This is to require you'-um um- the bodies of William Ford and Amelia Walton'—um um suspected persons'-um-um-Well, well! I see what this is: but you will accept of bail, sir?

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Offi. No, sir; this case is not bailable, and we have already been reprimanded for taking your recognizance this morning.

Sir Wil. Thou good man! I shall ever retain the most lively sense of your behaviour: but your kind endeavours to preserve the poor remainder of my proscribed life are in vain. We must submit to our destiny. [All going.

Free. Hold, hold! one word, I beseech you, sir? [To the Officer.] a minute or two will make no difference-Bail then, it seems, will not do, sir?

Officer. No, sir.

Free. Well, well; then I have something here that will perhaps. [Feeling in his pocket.

Lord Fal. How!

Lady Alt. What does he mean?

Free. No, it is not there.- -It is in t'other pocket, I believe. Here, sir William! [Producing a parchment.] Ask the gentleman, if that will not do. But, first of all, read it yourself, and let us hear how you like the contents.

Sir Wil. What do I see! [Opening and perusing it.] My pardon! the full and free pardon of my offences! Oh heaven! and is it to you then, to you, sir, that I owe all this?---Thus, thus let me shew my gratitude to my benefactor!

Free. Upon hearing that, and perceiving the danger you were in, I went immediately to the present lord Brumpton; who is a very honest fellow, and one of the oldest acquaintance I have in the world. He, at my instance, immediately made the necessary application; and guess how agreeably we were surprised to hear that the late lord had already been successful, and that the pardon had been made out, on the very morning of the day his lordship died. Away went I, as fast as a pair of horses could carry me, to fetch it; and should certainly have prevented this last arrest, if the warrant to apprehend you, as dangerous persons, had not issued under your assumed names of William Ford and Amelia Walton, against whom the information had been hap-laid. But, however, it has only served to prevent your running away, when the danger was over; for at present, sir William, thank Heaven and his majesty, you are a whole man again; and you have nothing to do but to make a legal appearance, and to plead the pardon I have brought you, to absolve you from all informations.

[Falling at his feet. Free. Get up, get up, sir William! Thank Heaven, and the most gracious of monarchs. You have very little obligation to me, I promise

you.

Ame. My father restored! Then I am the piest of women!

Lord Fal. A pardon! I am transported. Lady Alt. How's this? a pardon ! Free. Under the great seal, madam. Lady Alt. Confusion! what am I baffled at last then? Am I disappointed even of my revenge?-Thou officious fool! [To FREEPORT.] May these wretches prove as great a torment to you, as they have been to me! As for thee, [To LORD FALBRIDGE.] thou perfidious monster, inay thy guilt prove thy punishment! May you obtain the unworthy union you desire! May your wife prove as false to you, as you have been to me! May you be followed, like Orestes, with the furies of a guilty conscience; find your error when it is too late; and die in all the horrors of despair! [Erit. Free. There goes a woman of quality for you! what little actions! and what a great soul! Ha! Master Spatter ! where are you going? [To SPATTER, who is sneaking off. Spat. Following the Muse, sir! [Pointing after LADY ALTON.] But if you have any ther commands, or his lordship should have occasion for me to write his epithalamium-

fur

Lord Fal. Peace, wretch! sleep in a whole skin, and be thankful! I would solicit mercy myself, and have not leisure to punish you. Be gone, sir!

Spat. I am obliged to your lordship-This affair will make a good article for the EveningPost to-night, however. [Aside, and Erit. Sir Wil. How happy has this reverse of fortune made me !-But my surprise is almost equal to my joy. May we beg you, sir, [To FREEPORT.] to inform us how your benevolence has effected what seems almost a miracle, in my favour?

Free. In two words then, sir William, this happy event is chiefly owing to your old friend, the late lord Brumpton.

Sir Wil. Lord Brumpton!

Free. Yes; honest Owen there told me, that his lordship had been employed in soliciting your pardon. Did not you, Owen?

Owen I did, sir.

Lord Fal. Thou honest, excellent man! How happily have you supplied, what I failed to accomplish!

Free. Ay, I heard that your lordship had been busy.-You had more friends at court than one, sir William, I promise you.

Sir Wil. I am overwhelmed with my sudden good fortune, and am poor even in thanks. Teach me, Mr Freeport, teach me how to make some acknowledgement for your extraordinary generosity!

Free. I'll tell you what, sir William. Notwithstanding your daughter's pride, I took a liking to her, the moment I saw her.

Lord Fal. Ha! What's this!
Free. What's the matter, my lord?
Lord Fal. Nothing. Go on, sir!

Free. Why, then, to confess the truth, I am afraid that my benevolence, which you have all been pleased to praise so highly, had some little leaven of self-interest in it; and I was desirous to promote Amelia's happiness more ways than one.

Lord Fal. Then I am the veriest wretch that ever existed.-But take her, sir! for I must confess that you have deserved her by your proceedings; and that I, fool and villain that I was, have forfeited her by mine. [Going.

Free. Hold, hold! one word before you go, if you please, my lord! You may kill yourself for aught I know, but you shan't lay your death at my door, I promise you. 1 had a kindness for Amelia, I must confess; but, in the course of my

late negotiation for sir William, hearing of your lordship's pretensions, I dropt all thoughts of her. It is a maxim with me, to do good wherever I can, but always to abstain from doing mischief.-Now, as I can't make the lady

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Sir Wil. With all my heart!-You can have no objection, Amelia? [AMELIA bursts into tears. Lord Fal. How bitterly do those tears reproach me! It shall be the whole business of my future life to atone for them.

Ame. Your actions this day, and your solicitude for my father, have redeemed you in my good opinion; and the consent of sir William, seconded by so powerful an advocate as Mr Freeport, cannot be contended with. Take my hand, my lord! a virtuous passion may inhabit the purest breast; and I am not ashamed to con

fess, that I had conceived a partiality for you, till your own conduct turned my heart against you; and if my resentment has given you any pain, when I consider the occasion, I must own that I cannot repent it.

Lord Fal. Mention it no more, my love, I beseech you! You may justly blame your lover, I confess; but I will never give you cause to complain of your husband.

Free. I don't believe you will. I give you joy, my lord! I give you all joy! As for you, madam, [To AMELIA.] do but shew the world that you can bear prosperity, as well as you have sustained the shocks of adversity, and there are few women, who may not wish to be an Amelia. [Exeunt omnes.

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SIR BENJAMIN Dove, henpecked by his wife.

BELFIELD sen.

the Brothers.

BELFIELD jun.

jun.

LADY DOVE.

SOPHIA, SIR BENJAMIN's daughter.
VIOLETTA, wife to BELFIELD sen.

CAPTAIN IRONSIDES, uncle to BELFIELD sen. and FANNY GOODWIN.

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LUCY WATERS.

KITTY, LADY DOVE's maid.

JONATHAN, servant to SIR BENJAMIN.

Scene-The sea coast of Cornwall.

ACT I.

SCENE I-A rocky shore, with a fisherman's cabin in the cliff: a violent tempest, with thun der and lightning: a ship discovered stranded on the coast. The characters enter, after having looked out of their cabin, as if waiting for the abatement of the storm.

GOODWIN, PHILIP, and FANNY.

Phi. Ir blows a rank storm; 'tis well, father, we hauled the boat ashore before the weather came on; she's safe bestowed, however, let what will happen.

Good. Ay, Philip, we had need be provident : except that poor skiff, my child, what have we left in this world that we can call our own?

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misfortunes patiently, 'twere an ill office for me to repine; we have long tilled the earth for a subsistence; now, Philip, we must plough the ocean; in those waves lies our harvest; there, my brave lad, we have an equal inheritance with the best.

Phi. True, father; the sea, that feeds us, provides us an habitation here in the hollow of the cliff. I trust, the 'squire will exact no rent for this dwelling-Alas! that ever two brothers should have been so opposite as our merciless landlord, and the poor young gentleman, they say, is now dead.

Good. Sirrah, I charge you, name not that unhappy youth to me any more; I was endeavouring to forget him and his misfortunes, when the sight of that vessel in distress brought him afresh to my remembrance; for, it seems, he perished by sea: the more shame upon him, whose cruelty and injustice drove him thither. But come, the wind lulls apace; let us launch the boat, and make a trip to yonder vessel; if we can assist in lightening her, perhaps she may ride it out.

Phi. Tis to no purpose; the crew are coming ashore in their boat; I saw them enter the creek. Good. Did you so? Then, do you and your sister step into the cabin; make a good fire, and provide such fish and other stores as you have within: I will go down, and meet them: who ever they may be, that have suffered this misfortune on our coasts, let us remember, children, never to regard any man as an enemy, who stands in need of our protection. [Exit GooD. Phi. I am strongly tempted to go down to the creek, too; if father should light on any mischief well, for once in my life, I'll disobey him; sister, you can look to matters within doors; I'll go round by the point, and be there as soon as he.

Fun. Do so, Philip; 'twill be best.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II-Continues.

GOODWIN re-enters, followed by FRANCIS, and several sailors carrying goods and chests from the wreck.

Good. This way, my friends, this way! there's stowage enough within for all your goods.

Fran. Come, bear a hand, my brave lads, there's no time to lose; follow that honest man, and set down your chests where he directs you. Sai. Troth, I care not how soon I'm quit of mine; 'tis plaguy heavy. [Exeunt.

SCENE III-Continues.

Enter other Sailors.

1st Sai. Here's a pretty spot of work! plague on't, what a night has this been! I thought this damned lee-shore would catch us at last.

2d Sai. Why, 'twas impossible to claw her off;

well, there's an end of her-The Charming Sally privateer!-Poor soul; a better sea boat never swam upon the salt sea.

3d Sai. I knew we should have no luck after we took up that woman there from the packet that sunk along side us.

1st Sai. What, madam Violetta, as they call her? Why, 'tis like enough-But hush, here comes our captain's nephew; he's a brave lad, and a seaman's friend, and, between you and me Boatswain's whistle.]-But hark, we are called -Come along! [Exeunt Sailors.

SCENE IV.

BELFIELD jun. and FRANCIS.

Bel. jun. That ever fortune should cast us upon this coast!-Francis! Fran. Sir!

Bel. jun. Have the people landed those chests we brought off with us in the boat?

Fran. They have, sir; an old fisherman, whom we met, has shewn us here to a cavern in the cliff, where we have stowed them all in safety.

Bel. jun. That's well. Where's my uncle?

Fran. On board; no persuasions can prevail on him to quit the ship, which, he swears, will lift with the tide; his old crony, the master, is with him, and they ply the casks so briskly, that it seems a moot point, which fills the fastest, they, or the wreck.

Bel. jun. Strange insensibility! but you must | bring him off by force, then, if there is no other way of saving him. I think, on my conscience, he is as indifferent to danger as the plank he treads on. We are now thrown upon my unnatural brother's estate; that house, Francis, which you see to the left, is his; and what may be the consequence if he and my uncle should meet, I know not; for such has been captain Ironsides' resentment on my account, that he has declared war against the very name of Belfield; and, in one of his whimsical passions, you know, insisted on my laying it aside for ever; so that hitherto I have been known on board by no other name than that of Lewson.

Fran. Tis true, sir; and, I think, 'twill be adviseable to continue the disguise as long as you can. As for the old captain, from the life he always leads on shore, and his impatience to get on board again, I think, 'tis very possible an interview between him and your brother may be prevented.

Bel. jun. I think so, too. Go then, Francis, and conduct the old gentleman hither; I see Violetta coming. [Exit FRAN. Sure there is something in that woman's story uncommonly mysterious-Of English parents-born in Lisbon-her family and fortune buried in the earthquake-so much she freely tells; but more, I am convinced, remains untold, and of a melancholy sort: she has once or twice, as I

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