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accuse me.

me !

Sir Ben. Who desired you to put in your oar? Bel, sen. What's this I hear! Oh! brother,

Iron. Why, sirrah, would not one wife con can you pardon, too? tent you? 'Tis enough in all reason for one man; Bel. jun. Be indeed a brother, and let this is it not, sir Benjamin?

providential event be the renovation of our Bel. jun. Sir, when it is proved I am married, friendship.

Bel. sen. What shall I say to you, madam ?Iron. Look'e, Bob, I don't accuse you for [To Soputa.] Paterson, you know my heart : marrying; 'twas an indiscretion, and I can for- bcar witness to its remorse. By Heaven, my segive it, but to deny it, is a meanness, and I cret resolution was, instantly to have departed abhor it.

in search of this my injured wife—but I'm not Sophia. Mr Belfield, do you say nothing upon worthy even of your resentment: here is one this occasion !

that merits, and returns your love. Bel. sen. Paterson, I am struck to the heart

[Turning to his brother. I cannot support my guilt-I am married to Vio Iron. Come, god-daughter, we can never say letta-save me the confusion of relating it: this the fleet's fairly come to an anchor, 'while the addishonourable engagement for ever I renounce; miral's ship is out at sea. [Presenting BelFIELD nor will I rest till I have made atonement to an junior.] My nephew here is as honest a lad as injured wife. Madam, I beg leave to withdraw lives, and loves you at the soul of him : give him for a few minutes.

your hand, and I'll broach the last chest of dolBel. jun. Hold, sir! this contrivance is of lars, to make him a fortune deserving you.your forging-you have touched me too near What say you, my old friend? and now, if you dare draw your sword, follow Sir Ben. Here's my hand! I've spoke the

word-she's his own. Lady Dove, I won't hear Sophia. Hold, gentlemen! you forget the lady a syllable to the contrary. is now in the house-she is a witness that will Iron. Then, the galleon is thy own, boyeffectually put an end to your dispute--I will What should an old fellow like 'me do with moconduct her hither.

[Erit Sophia. ney? Give me a warm night-cap, a tiff of punch, Bel. jun. I agree to it.

and an elbow-chair in your chimney-corner, and Iron. Hark'e, nephew? I shrewdly suspect you I'll lay up for the rest of my days. have been laying a train to blow yourself up: Bel. jun. How shall I give utterance to my if once Bob comes fairly alongside of you, you'll gratitude, or my love! find your quarters too hot to hold you : I never yet found my boy out in a lie, and shan't tamely Enter Goodwin, Fanny, Francis, Puilip, and

Lucy. see a lie imposed upon him; for while he is honest, and I have breath, he shall never want a Sir Ben. So, so ! more work for the parson ! friend to stand by him, or a father to protect

Iron. What, Francis ! hast thou chosen a him.

mate, and art bound upon a matrimonial cruize, Bel. sen. Mr Paterson, explain my story—I as well as thy master? will depart this instant in search of Violetta. Fran. Ay, sir; so he is happy as well as my

self, and has no objection to my choice. Enter Sophia and VIOLETTA.

Bel. sen. What! Are you all assembled to Sophia. Stay! I conjure you—stay, turn, and overwhelm me with confusion ? Like some poor look back upon this lady, before you go. culprit, surrounded by a crowd of witnesses, I

[Presenting VIOLETTA. stand convicted and appalled. But all your Bel. sen. My wife!

wrongs shall be redressed—yours, GoodwinSir Ben. Hey-day! here's a turn.

Philip's—Lucy's: my whole life shall be emIron. I thought how 'twould be.

ployed in acts of justice and atonement. Virtue, Vio. Yes, sir, your faithful, your forsaken wife. and this virtuous woman, were my first ruling

Bel. sen. How shall I look upon you? What passions. shall I say? Where shall I hide my


Now they resume their social, soft controul, Oh! take me to your arms, and, in that soft shelter, let me find forgiveness and protection.

And love and happiness possess my soul. Vio. Be this your only punishment! and this !

(Exeunt omnes. Bel.jun. Was it, then, a sister I preserved from death?








WOMEN. STOCKWELL, a merchant, father to Belcour. LADY RUSport, attached to MAJOR O'FLANERBELCOUR, the West Indian, attached to LOUISA. CAPTAIN DUDLEY, an old officer on half-pay. CHARLOTTE, her daughter. CHARLES DUDLEY, his son, attached to Char- | Louisa, daughter to Dudley. LOTTE RUSPORT.

MAJOR O'FLAHERTY, an Irishman.

STUKELY, principal clerk to STOCKWELL. Housekeeper belonging to STOCKWELL,
VARLAND, a lawyer.

Clerks belonging to STOCKWELL, Servants, SciSailor.

lors. Negroes, fc. Servant to STOCKWELL. Servant to LADY Rysport,

Scene, London,


SCENE I.-A merchant's counting-house. writings to a vast amount. I'll accost him.

Sir! Mr Stockwell! In an inner room, set off by glass-doors, are dis Stock. Stukely Well, have you shipped

covered several clerks, employed at their desks. the cloths ? A writing-table in the front room. STOCKWELL

Stuke. I have, sir; here's the bill of lading, is discovered, reading a letter ; STUKELY comes and copy of the invoice : the assortments are all gently out of the back room, and observes him compared : Mr Traffick will give you the policy some time before he speaks.

upon 'Change. Stuke. He seems disordered: something in that Slock. 'Tis very well; lay these papers by; and letter, and I'm afraid of an unpleasant sort. He no more of business for a while. Shut the door, has many ventures of great account at sea; a ship Stukely. I have had long proof of your friendrichly freighted for Barcelona; another for Lis ship and fidelity to me; a matter of most intinite bon; and others expected from Cadiz, of still concern lies on my mind, and 'twill be a sensible greater value. Besides these, I know he has ma- relief to unbosom myselt' to you. I have just now ny deep concerns in foreign bottoins, and under- been informed of the arrival of the young West

Indian, I have so long been expecting; you know would deeply affect his spirit, which was haughty, whoin I mean?

vehement, and unforgiving: and lastly, in regard Stuke. Yes, sir; Mr Belcour, the young gen to the interest of her infant, whom he had warınticman who inlcrited old Belcour's great estates ly adopted, and for whom, in case of a discovery, in Jamaica.

every thing was to be dreaded from his resentSlock. Husl, not so loud; come a little nearer ment. And, indeed, though the alteration in my this way. This Belcour is now in London; part condition might have justified ine in discovering of his bossage is already arrived; and I expect myself

, yet ï always thought my son safer in him every minute. Is it to be wondered at, if trusting to the caprice, than to the justice, of his luis coming throws me into sonic agitation, when grandfather. My judgment has not suffered by I tell you, Stukcly, he is iny son!

the event; old Belcour is dead, and has beStuke. Your son !

queathed his whole estate to him we are speakStock. Ycs, sir, my only son. Early in life I ing of. accompanied bis grandfather to Jamaica, as his Stuke. Now, then, you are no longer bound to clerk; be had an only daughter, somewhat older secrecy. than myself, the mother of this gentleman: it Stock. Truc: but before I publicly reveal mywas my chance (call it good or ill) to engage her self, I could wish to make some experiment of afiections; and, as the interiority of my condition my son's disposition. This can only be done by made it hopeless to expect her father's consent, lciting liis spirit take its course without restraint; hier fondness provided an expedient, and we were by these means, I think I shall discover mich privately married: the issue of that concealed more of his real character, under the title of his engagement is, as I have told you, this Belcour. merchant, than I should under that of his father,

Stuke. That event, surely, discovered your A Sailor enters, ushering in several black serconnexion?

Stock. You shall bear. Not many days after tunts, carrying portmanteaus, trunks, &c. our marriage, old Belcour set out for England; Sai. Save your honour-is your name Stockand, during his abode here, my wife was, with well, pray? great secrecy, delivered of this son. Fruitful in Stock. It is. expedients to disguise her situation, without part Sai. Part of my master Belcour's baggage, an't ing from her infant, she contrived to have it laid please you : there's another cargo not far a-stern and received at her door as a foundling. After of us, and the cock-swain has got charge of the some time, her father returned, having left me dumb creatures. here; in one of those favourable moments, that Stock. Prithee, friend, what dumb creatures decide the fortunes of prosperous men, this child do you speak of? has Nir Belcour brought over a was introduced : from that instant, he treated collection of wild beasts? him as his own, gave him his name, and brought Sai. No, lord love him! no, not he: let ma him up in his family.

scc; there's two green inoukies, a pair of grey Stuke. And did you never reveal this secret, parrots, a Jamaica sow and pigs, and a Mangrove either to old Belcour, or your son.

dog; that's all. Stock. Never.

Stock. Is that all? Stuke. Therein you surprise me; a merchant Sai. Yes, your honour; yes, that's all; bless of your eminence, and a member of the British his heart, a'might have brought over the whole parliament, might surely aspire, without offence, island if he would; a didn't leave a dry eye in it. to the daughter of a planter. In this case, too, Stock. Indeed! Stukely, shew them where to natural affection would prompt to a discovery: bestow their baggage. Follow that gentleman.

Stock. Your remark is obvious; nor could I Sui. Come, bear a hand, my lads; bear a hand. have persisted in this painful silence, but in obe

[Exit with STUKELY and servants. dience to the dying injunctions of a beloved wife. Stock. If the principal tallies with his purveyThe letter, you found me reading, conveyed those ors, he must be a singular spectacle in this place: injunctions to me; it was dictated in her last ill. he has a friend, however, in this sea-faring fels ness, and almost in the article of death (you'll low : 'tis no bad prognostic of a man's heart, spare me the recital of it); she there conjures when his shipmates give him a good word. (Exit, me, in terms as solemn as they are affecting, never to reveal the secret of our marriage, or with SCENE II.-Changes to a drawing-room. draw my son, while her father survived.

Stuke. But on what motives did your unhappy A servunt discovered setting the chairs by, 8c. lady found these injunctions ?

A woman servant enters to him. Stock. Principally, I believe, from apprehen House. Why, what a fuss does our good mas, sion on my account, lest old Belcour, on whom, ter put himself in about this West Indian! See at her decease, I wholly depended, should with what a bill of fare I've been forced to draw out: draw his protection : in part, from consideration seven and nīne, I'll assure you, and only a family of his repose, as well knowing the discovery dinner, as he calls it: wby, if my lord mayor was

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expected, there couldn't be a greater to do about

BELCOUR enters. him.

Ser. I wish to my heart you had but seen the Stock. Mr Belcour, I'm rejoiced to see you ; loads of trunks, boxes, and portmanteaus he has you're welcome to England. sent hither. An ambassador's baggage, with all Bel. I thank you heartily, good Mr Stockwell : the smuggled goods of his family, does not ex- you and I have long conversed at a distance; ceed it.

now we are met; and the pleasure this meeting House. A fine pickle he'll put the house into! gives me, amply compensates for the perils I had he been master's own son, and a Christian have run through in accomplishing it. Englishman, there couldn't be more rout than Stock. What perils, Mr Belcour? I could not there is about this Creolian, as they call them. have thought you would have made a bad pase

Ser. No matter for that; he's very rich, and sage at this time o' year. that's sufficient. They say he has rum and sugar Bel. Nor did we courier-like, we came postenough belonging to him, to make all the water ing to your shores, upon the pinions of the in the Thames into punch. But I see my mas- swiftest gales that ever blew; 'tis upon English ter's coming.

[Ereunt. ground all my difficulties have arisen ; 'tis the

passage from the river-side I complain of. STOCKWELL enters, followed by a Servant,

Stock. Ay, indeed! What obstructions can

you have met between this and the river-side? Stock. Where Mr Belcour? Who brought Bel, Innumerable! Your town's as full of dethis note from him ?

bles as the island of Corsica; and, I believe, Ser. A waiter from the London tavern, sir; they are as obstinately defended : so much hurhe says the young gentleman is just dressed, and ry, bustle, and confusion on our quays; so many will be with you directly;

sugar-casks, porter-butts, and common-councilStock. Shew him in when he arrives.

men in your streets, that, unless a man marched Ser. I shall, sir. I'll have a peep at him first, with artillery in his front, 'tis more than the lahowever; I've a great mind to see this outland- | bour of a Hercules can effect, to make any toleish spark. The sailor fellow says he'll make rare rable way through your town. doings amongsi us.

[Aside. Stock. I am sorry you have been so incommoStock. You need not wait-leave me. [Erit ded. Servant.] Let me see

[Reads. Bel. Why, faith, 'twas all my own fault. Ac

customed to a land of slaves, and out of patience "Sın,

with the whole tribe of custom-house extortione "I write to you under the hands of the hair-ers, boatmen, tide-waiters, and water-bailiffs, • dresser. As soon as I have made myself decent, that beset me on all sides, worse than a swarm of • and slipped on some fresh clothes, I will have musquetoes, I proceeded a little too roughly to the honour of paying you my devoirs.

brush them away with my rattan : the sturdy • Yours,

rogues took this in dudgeon, and beginning to reBELCOUR.' bel, the mob chose different sides, and a furious

scuffle ensued; in the course of which, my perHe writes at his ease; for he's unconscious to son and apparel suffered so much, that I was whom his letter is addressed; but what a palpi- obliged to step into the first tavern to refit, betation does it throw my heart into! a father's fore I could make my approaches in any decent beart! 'Tis an affecting interview; when my eyes

trim. meet a son, whom yet they never saw, where Stock. All without is as I wish; dear Nature, shall I find constancy to support it ? Should he add the rest, and I am happy! [Aside.) Well, resemble his mother, I am overthrown. All the Mr Belcour, 'tis a rough sample you have had of letters I have had from him (for I industriously my countrymen's spirit; but, I trust, you'll not drew him into a correspondence with me), be-think the worse of them for it. speak him of quick and ready understanding. Bel. Not at all, not at all; I like them the All the reports I ever received, give me favoura- better. Was ... only a visitor, I might, perhaps, ble impressions of his character; wild, perhaps, wish them a little more tractable; but, as a fel as the manner of his country is; but, I trust, no low subject, and a sharer in their freedom, I apfrantic or unprincipled.

plaud their spirit, though I feel the effects of it in every bone of my skin.

Stock. That's well; I like that well. How
Enter Servant.

gladly I could fall upon his neck, and own myself Ser. Sir, the foreign gentleman is come. his father!

[Aude. Bel. Well, Mr Stockwell, for the first time Enter another Servant.

in my life, here am I in England; at the foun

tain head of pleasure, in the land of beauty, of arts, Ser. Mr Belcour,

and elegancies. My happy stars have given me

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a good estate, and the conspiring winds have certain young fellow of two and twenty in the blown me hither to spend it.

case; who, by the happy recommendation of a Stock. To use it, not to waste it, I should good person, and the brilliant appointments of hope ; to treat it, Mr Belcour, not as a vassal, over an ensigncy, will, if I am not mistaken, cozen whom you have a wanton and despotic power you out of a fortune of twice twenty thousand but as a subject, which you are bound to govern pounds, as soon as ever you are of age to bestow with a temperate and restrained authority.

it upon him. Bel. True, sir; most truly said! Mine's a Chur. A nephew of your ladyship’s can never Commission, not a right : I am the offspring of want any other recommendation with me; and, distress, and every child of sorrow is my bro if my partiality for Charles Dudley is acquitted ther. While I have hands to hold, therefore, by the rest of the world, I hope lady Rusport will hold them open to mankind: but, sir, my will not condemn me for it. passions are my masters; they take me where Lady Rus. I condemn you! I thank Heaven, they will; and oftentimes they leave to reason Miss Rusport, I am no ways responsible for your and to virtue nothing but my wishes and my conduct; nor is it any concern of mine how you sighs,

dispose of yourself: you are not my daughter; Stock. Come, come; the man, who can accuse, and, when I married your father, poor sir Stecorrects himself.

phen Rusport, I found you a forward, spoiled Bel. Ah! that's an office I am weary of: Iniss of fourteen, far above being instructed by wish a friend would take it up: I would to Heaven you had leisure for the employ! but did Char. Perhaps, your ladyship calls this inyou drive a trade to the four corners of the struction? world, you would not find the task so toilsome as Lady Rus. You're strangely pert; but 'tis no to keep me free from faults. )

wonder. Your mother, I am told, was a fine Stock. Well, I am not d scouraged : this can- lady; and according to the modern style of edudour tells me, I should not have the fault of self-cation you was brought up. It was not so in conceit to combat; that, at least, is not among my young days; there was, then, some decorum the number. put

in the world, some subordination, as the great Bel. No; if I knew that man on earth, whio Locke expresses it. Oh! it was an edifying thought more humbly of me than I do of myself, sight, to see the regular deportment observed in I would take up his opinion, and forego my own. our family: no giggling, no gossiping was going

Stock. And, was I to choose a pupil, it should on there; my good father, sir Oliver Roundhead, be one of your complexion : so, if you will come never was seen to laugh himself, nor ever allowalong with me, we'll agree upon your admission, ed it in his children. and enter on a course of lectures directly.

Char. Ay; those were happy times, indeed! Bel. With all my heart.

Ereunt. Lady Rus. But, in this forward age, we have coquettes in the egg-shell

, and philosophers in SCENE III.—Changes to a room in Lady Rus- the cradle; girls of fifteen, that lead the fashion PORT's house.

in new caps and new opinions; that have their

sentiments and their sensations; and the idle Enter Lady Rosport and CHARLOTTE.

fops encourage them in it. I'my conscience, I Lady Rus. Miss Rusport, I desire to hear no wonder whal it is the men can see in such bamore of captain Dudley and his destitute family: / bies ! not a shilling of mine shall ever cross the hands Cher. True, madam: but all men do not overof any

of them: because my sister chose to mar- look the maturer beauties of your ladyship's age; ry a beggar, am I bound to support him and his witness your admirer, Major Dennis O'Flaherty : posterity?

there's an example of some discernment. I deChar. I think you are.

clare to you, when your ladyship is by, the major Lady Rus. You think I am ? and, pray, where takes no more notice of me, than if I was part do you find the law that tells you so?

of the furniture of your chamber. Char. I am not proficient enough to quote Ludy Rus. The major, child, has travelled chapter and verse; but I take charity to be a through various kingdoms and climates, and has main clause in the great statute of Christianity. more enlarged notions of female merit than falls

Lady Rus. I say charity, indeed! And pray, | to the lot of an English home-bred lover; in most miss, are you sure that it is charity, pure charity, other countries, no woman on your side forty which moves you to plead for captain Dudley? would ever be named in a polite circle. Amongst all your pity, do you find no spice of a Char. Right, madam; I've been told, that in certain anti-spiritual passion, called love? Don't Vienna they have coquettes upon crutches, and mistake yourself; you are no saint, child, believe Venuses in their grand climacteric: a lover me; and, I am apt to think, the distresses of old there celebrates the wrinkles, not the dimples, in Dudley, and of his daugliter into the bargain, bis mistress's face. The major, I think, has would never break your heart, if there was not a served in the Imperial army.

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