In far and feeble starlight! must fly the country. Our pride has had a fa Ven. Aye: now boast-now triumph. A Death-fall!-and so hard a one, that may I be the Gazette), if I ever try a fall again. He Victoria; Leonora, help to bear up your mothe griefs. Hers is a heavy case, a very weig concern, indeed. She see through a rog She might as well see to the end of a su Chancery. Pride-ruin-madness! [Exe This be all, Early or late, Lorenzo's epitaph: SCENE III.- An Apartment in VENTOS Vic. At home again! Stay with me, L nora-My brain is wild. I can scarcely t that we have escaped from that hideous pr Did not Lorenzo upbraid me, cast me of TORRENTO and LEONORA re-appear. Coun. Will she kneel to him? Can she endure this insult? Prince, take your bride. I will take the veil. [To Torrento. Leon. Take the veil! take nothing Tor. Who dares insult her? That rioter courage. Your beauty might kill a whole r come again! Sir, the man who offends this ment of officers, instead of pining for c lady must not live. [Lorenzo turns. I would not give a sigh to save the w Lor. I had forgot!-Vagabond,-Ho-Jai-army-list-Yet, I feel some strange, deh, lor! Fling this impostor into the dungeon hope, that all will yet be well-Your Pr from which I took him. you see, was one of my adorers-In co [Ventoso and the Females in surprise. to marry you, he thought he was com Tor. Draw, and defend yourself! [The marry me Monstrous impudence in e Jailor, Lazaro, and Assistants, rush in case.-I shall have him yet for all that, i behind Torrento, and pinion him. The woman. [.4% Hussars return] Stiletto! 'Tis the jail-comEnter PISANIO. pletely tricked, trapped, trepanned. What's Pisan. Ladies, your immediate atten all this for? [To the Jailor]-Handcuffs-at the palace is commanded by order o 'tis against prison rules-I have not broke Viceroy, the Prince de Pindemonté, bounds-I'll give bail to any amount-a thou- Vic. The Impostor!-Viceroy! imposs sand sequins-ten-twenty thousand. The Leon. Torrento, Viceroy! incredible. Count will go security. [Aside] Count, I say-out of prison-got into the palace-He is [Calling. great sublime of impudence. I adore Ven. I am deaf. Security! Swindler! How for his ingenuity.-Can the news be tru shall we escape? Pisan. Nothing more certain; the no Leon. Undone undone. Save him, dear are going in crowds to the palace-the father, save him. and Countess have been summoned, and Jail. Restive! Ho! on with the handcuffs, already gone. The guards are on pare Lazaro. The bosom friends! and one of the officers is now waiting b Lor. Off with that culprit to his dungeon. to have the honour of escorting you, Tor. Count and Countess, this is a con- the carriage returns. spiracy. I will have justice!-vengeance!- Leon. Runs to the Mirror] - Hea Scoundrels! high treason!-injur'd prince!-what a bead! the damp of that odious p Pindemonté!— [He is carried off. has made me the very emblem of a we Ven. Let us escape. Security indeed! Here willow. - Come, sister, dear Victoria, is security with a vengeance-locks and bars-Will you wear plumes or roses? But s to find myself in a jail! Open the door! and you will conquer. You can then ret [They knock. and-take the veil, if you choose. [She attempts to arrange her D Victoria repels her. Col. [A Bugle sounds] Officers! the call to parade. Troopers! Pride! Ha, ha, ha! Troopers! Birth-Pride! ha, ha! [He urges the Major and Cornet out, laughing. Trio.-(Italian.) VICTORIA. Lor. Count and Ladies, farewell. We have Spirit of Love! the heart still deceiving: met for the last time. You, Victoria, have Still, on the dim eye delicious dreams wea suffered for the crime of inconstancy; you, Still, with sad pleasure the torn bosom bea Count, for the folly of being a slave to the Go! I'm thy slave and thy victim no m will of women; you, Countess, for the violence LEONORA. of your temper; and all for your common Spirit of Hope! from thy light pinions sheet crime, Pride! Farewell for ever. [Exil. Flowers where the steps of young Passion shame - penitence!-Ob, - treading, PISANIO. Vic. If sorrow Lorenzo!-He's gone. Sunny hues over life's sullen clouds spread Leon. If I can climb the walls, or under- Here, live or die, at thy shrine I adore! mine the dungeon, or dry up the moat, or bribe the guards, my true Torrento-my un- Spirit of Joy! on those bosoms descending fortunate Torrento shall not linger another Come, like the day-star, the weary night endie day in prison. [Aside. Come, like the bow with the summer stor blending, Coun. Undone-insulted-laughed at-I shall never be able to hold up my head again. We 1) Bankrupts are inserted in the Gazette. Bid all the anguish of true love be o'er. my If I am scorned, I shall die uncomplaining. SCENE IV. - And Last. A Saloon in the Palace. Attendants in waiting. STEFANO, with papers. Ste. Those documents-the similitude of his features form evidence irresistible. Now, to add conviction to conviction. Ho, Sir, has the Signior Torrento been brought from the jail? Have the Count Ventoso and his family been summoned to the palace? you would be worthy of the throne yourself. Spy! This to a man of honour! Ven. Friend Stefano, a man of honour may be like a debt of honour-a very roguish affair. Coun. I insist on seeing his Highness! Keep your distance, Sir! ears. I never ran foul of such a fire-ship The COLONEL, MAJOR, and CORNET, enter Maj. Ha, ha-A mighty fine discovery for Lorenzo-one of his fathers Cor. Charming-Nature to the last, Majorexquisitely Hibernian! Maj. Perhaps no such mighty blunder, after all-make it your own case, Cornet. What, angry? Poh, shake hands. Cor. 'Pon honour, no-but by sentence of Officer. [Outside] "Room for the Count a Court-Martial. and Countess Ventoso." Col. Well, Lorenzo deserves it all; as capi Ste. Come already! I shrink instinctively tal a fellow as ever wore spur. from the volley of that woman's tremendous tongue. [He walks aside. The COUNT and COUNTESS enter, led by the OFFICER. Servants range themselves in the distance. Coun. [Sees them]-The Hussars! Ven. Are you sure we're not in jail again? [To Countess. don't turn away; let us be friends. Col. Ho! the Count and Countess. Come, Cor. Her Ladyship! Excuse me, Colonel Coun. Now, husband, what have you to say the Hussars never notice the Heavys 1). for your wisdom? Solomon! -The Prince's Maj. Poh, nonsense, man! Your Ladyship, seizure was clearly a conspiracy. Here we he aspires to the honour of a salute. are, by the express command of his Highness the Prince de Pindemonté, my son-in-law! Cor. Me! Diavolo! I'll never come in contact with that harpy again, but in a cuirassMuffs and meerschaums! Ven. It's all a riddle-all moonshine to me. In jail and out of jail at once! He must be a Col. Well, then, let me introduce the Maconjuror an eater of fire and a swallower of jor-He comes from the land of gallantry; small swords. But, why was I sent for here?-the country where they raise men for exI see it-to squeeze money out of me-a for-portation. ced loan. Ven. But what-what were you saying of Lorenzo? Maj. Aye, to improve the modesty of manCoun. Wise head! the Prince has sent for kind, your Ladyship. my daughters. Depend upon it, there will be a wedding to-night, and this is a very pretty apartment for the ceremony. On my virtue, Maj. He is this moment closeted with the I'should like a suite here, with a handsome Viceroy,-one of the Cabinet, my dear, pension. Col. A grand discovery, heir to a Ven. I don't doubt you, my love; a taste estate! In his infancy he had been sent from a superb for the public money is not uncommon in Italy with a large sum in jewels to his family banker in Cadiz-one Anselmo. either sex. Ven. Anselmo! Coun. Our kinsman! [Aside. Coun. But, bless me! there's your Signior Stefano. I before suspected him of being a Jew, but now I am sure of it. Nothing else Col. Yes; an old villain, who embezzled the could have such access to people of quality. money, and ran away with the boy to this Ste. Count, those papers-these- [Aside. island; where he brought up Lorenzo as a Coun. This is no time to talk of your af-peasant's son. The rogue died only some fairs Retire! I cannot give you my counte- months ago. nance here. Ven. St. Anthony!-had he no son? Ste. Retire! Countenance! Upon my honour, Col. What, am I to trace a scoundrel's Madam, your ladyship's countenance is one whole genealogy! of the last presents that could excite my gra- Cor. But did you hear the name of the present heir? titude. Ven. He can't bear for five minutes what Col. No, not I. Some old accomplice; he I have been bearing these forty years. [Aside. will be stripped of course. Coun. He's a spy of Lorenzo's: but, rather| Maj. Oh, what's the use of his name-some than give my daughter to that buff-belt, I'd old trafficker-he will be sent to the galleys, marry her to the Khan of Tartary! to a certainty. Ven. Now she's in for it. [Aside]-Man, Cor. Yes; if he have any hemp or ratsmake your escape. [To Stefano. bane in his establishment, he may take the Ste. Intolerable! - [Aside]-Khan of Tar- benefit of his own stock in trade. tary! Madarn, if the tongue made the Tartar, 1) Heavy horse-Dragoons. Col. You the heir! Cor. Muffs and meerschaums! Maj. Law-ruin-aye, they generally go together, my old friend. Enter ATTENDANTS, announcing the VICEROY Flourish of Music. Enter STEFANO, splendidly dressed, and attended by the Hes SARS. Coun. [Advances] Your most gracious Highness. [She recognises him] Stefano the Viceroy! what have I said to him-I could bite off my tongue! [Aside to Ventoso. Ven. Well resolved, Countess; do so, and Lor. Nothing, my Lord, [Leading Victoria but to express my delight, my happiness, a this day's discovery; my reverence, my love, [They kneel Cor. An alliance perfectly matrimonial, Count. [Voices within] "Room for his Highness the we shall both be quiet for life. Stefano the Prince!-room!" [Laughter. viceroy !—We shall both be sent to the galleys. Tor. [Within] Asses and idiots! out of my [Aside. way, you pampered buffoons! Must I never Ste. Count, I have heard something about a stir without a rabble of you grinning at my love affair in your family. I have certainly heels? [He enters The Count and Count-no right to insist upon the Captain's being ess! Confusion! what brought them here? your son-in-law-Lorenzo, what have you to [The Hussars stand aside, laughing. say for yourself? Coun. Your Highness's commandsVen. Your Highness's orders-yourTor. I am overwhelined! I can submit to the indignity of disguise no longer.-[Aside]| Count and Countess-I am no prince-noTORRENTO and LEONORA return. body-nothing-but one of the thousand luckless children of chance, who fight their ob-| Ven. Aye, flattery does every thing here. scure way through the world.-[Victoria and Ste. Well, Madam, as he cannot have the Leonora enter. He approaches Leonora]-honour of being your son-in-law, I am afraid We must part, my love. I am unworthy of he must be content with Rise, Sir! stand you; and from this hour I care not on what forth the son of the Viceroy of Sicily, of sea or shore fortune may fling me! Stefano, Prince de Pindemonte. Come to your Leon. No, Torrento! we part no more. I father's arms, my long-lost, late-found son, my have been unwise, and you unfortunate. But gallant son! here I swear to follow you with constancy as We are one. strong as life or death. [They go up the Stage. Coun. Impudence unparalleled! No Prince! Ven. I appeal to the Viceroy. Impostor! Col. The business is tolerably complete, Major. Their pride's down upon the knees 1), like a beyond all cure. Lor. My father! my generous, noble father! Ste. There, Sir, go mollify the Countess But, if you find her as tough a subject-as i did)-[Aside] Now, take your bride, and be [To Lorenza The HUSSARS approach. cast charger-it will carry the mark happy. Maj. Aye, like a scar on a fine woman's reputation-it will go on widening for life- Officers. We congratulate you, Prince Cor. They will be in no want of our trum-Lady, we wish you all happiness. [To Victor peters now they will be blown every step they go. Enter LORENZO, unperceived but by VICTORIA. Ste. How I obtained the knowledge of my son, how I preserved my incognito as Vicery till the search was complete-you shall hear at the banquet,—to which I now invite you a LORENZO, and all, advance. Lor. My love, all must be forgiven and for Lor. Fair ladies, nobles, gallant cavaliers! gotten. I have the most delightful intelligence-This day shall be a bright one in the wes the happiest discovery. I have just been with the [The Countess sees him.] Wherein our lives are pictur'd-Thro' all years This shall be holiday-The prison gates Shall know no envious bars; rich pageantries Coun. The Captain! another impostor-Shall paint our love-tale; children's merry another stolen match- He a man of family? the Hussar? tongues Shall lisp our names; and old men, o'er their fires, Lor. Countess, if honour and attachment, long tried, can entitle me to this lady's hand-Flourish their cups above their hoary heads, Vic. My father! if duty, if love, if feelings And drink our memory! Come in, sweet love pained to agony can move you- [Kneeling. [To Victorie Ven. Another daughter gone! By all means, Col. There's a fine girl on her own hands Madam. What next? Is there any thing else Cornet: -[Pointing to Leonora]-No basyou would have, Captain? We're in the jail band for the lady. again! Gang of thieves!-[To Countess]- Cor. Excuse me, Colonel, we, the Twen Sir, is there any thing about me that strikes tieth, are not connubial. But if the girl wat your taste?[Going up to the Hussars]- a husband, I'll state the circumstance on p Or your's, Sir? — My watch and scals my rade.-Muffs and meerschaums! purse. Does any gentleman take a fancy to the Countess? No! that stock lies on hand. 1) A horse which has fallen has generally a mark on its knee, thus losing two-thirds of its value. Tor. Your Highness! since you have the art of finding out sons, perhaps you can find out fathers too. Pray, whose son am I? somebody's, I suppose? Ste. In tracing the Captain, I accidentally before them! What army shall I raise? What fell in with your career. I mistook you for cabinet shall I pension? What kingdom shall each other. I found your errors more of the I purchase? What emperor shall I annihilate? head than the heart. You have your liberty. I'll have Mexico for a plate-chest, and the Count, you must resign your title. Fen. With all my heart. Ste. And, with them, Anselmo's estate. Mediterranean for a fish-pond. I'll have a loan as long as from China to Chili. I'll have a mortgage on the moon! Give me the purse, Ven. Not the money-not the money-Ilet who will carry the sceptre. have an old prejudice in favour of the money. Count and Countess, you shall keep your titles, and be as happy as mirth, money, and Coun. I'm thunderstruck. [To Leonora and the rest.] Ste. Torrento, stand forth; you are Ansel-macaroni can make you. 10's heir! you are the banker's son! Maj. Then, upon my conscience, there'll be Now! to the banquet. Having fix'd our fates mighty_great_run on the bank. With freedom, title, fortune, loving mates! Tor. [In Exultation] - A banker's son, If I have erred, 'twas youth, love, folly;-here, agnificent! a golden shower!-Leonora, my With generous hearts around, I scorn to fearve, we'll have a wedding worthy of bankers. Where heroes judge, and beauty pleads the Vhat trinkets will you have? the Pitt dia cause, ond, or the Great Mogul? A banker, my Who talks of censure? Give me your applause. ngel! 'Tis your bankers that sweep the world THIS lady, whose maiden name was Moore, was the daughter of a clergyman, and the wife of the Rev. Joha oke, rector of Colney, in Norfolk, of St. Augustine, in the city of Norwich, and chaplain to the garrison of Quebec. r husband died Jan. 21, 1789; and she herself on the 26th of the same month, at Sleaford, at the house of her son, o had a preferment in that part of the country. Mrs. Brooke was a lady of first-rate abilities, and as remarkable for tleness and suavity of manners, as for her literary talents. She wrote and published some admirable novels (among ich were, Lady Julia Mandeville, Emily Montague, Marquis of St. Forlaix, and The Excursion); a periodical ser, called The Old Maid, and a translation of Millot's Elements of the History of England. ROSINA, Comic Opera, by Mrs. Brooke. Acted at Covent Garden 1785. The story of this piece is founded on that of emon and Lavinia (in Thomson's Seasons), or Boaz and Ruth, in the Scripture, and was performed with great lause. It has, however, the disadvantage of wanting the grace of novelty, and the pleasure of surprise; as must ays be the case with scriptural stories, or others of notoriety. The music, by Shield, is charming, and can never of attracting attention. Of all the petite pieces that are exhibited on the British stage, Rosina is perhaps the least nsive to the severe moralist; as it corrects the mind, while it pleases the senses. CENE opens and discovers a rural prospect: on the left side a little hill with trees at the top; a spring of water rushes from the side, and falls into a natural bason below: on the right side a cottage, at the door of which is a bench of stone. At a distance a chain of mountains. The manor-house in view. A field of corn fills up the scene. the first act the sky clears by degrees, the morning vapour disperses, the sun rises, and at the end of the act is above the horizon: at the beginning of the second he is past the height, and declines till the end of the day. This progressive motion should be made imperceptibly, but its effect should be visible through the two acts. ACT I. AIR. sweetheart? But you are so proud you won't let our young men come a near you. You SCENE I. After the Trio, the Sun is seen may live to repent being so scornful. to rise: the Door of the Cottage is open, a Lamp burning just within; DORCAS, seated on a Bench, is spinning; ROSINA When William at eve meets me down a and PHOEBE, just within the Door, are measuring Corn; WILLIAM comes from the top of the Stage; they sing the fol-Of the day I forget the labour and toil, lowing Trio. When the rosy morn appearing the stile, How sweet is the nightingale's song! Whilst the moon plays yon branches among By her beams, without blushing, I hear him complain, And believe every word of his song: You know not how sweet 'tis to love thr dear swain, Whilst the moon plays yon branches among [During the last Stanza William appear at the end of the Scene, and mok Signs to Phabe; who, when it is finis ed, steals softly to him, and they appear. Ros. How small a part of my evils is verty! And how little does Phoebe know [William retires. heart she thinks insensible! the heart wh nourishes a hopeless passion. I blest, others, Belville's gentle virtues, and knew that 'twas love. Unhappy! lost Rosina! Ros. See! my dear Dorcas, what we glean'd yesterday in Mr. Belville's field! [Coming forward, and showing the Corn at the Door. Dor. Lord love thee! but take care of thyself: thou art but tender Ros. Indeed it does not hurt me. put out the lamp? Shall I Dor. Do, dear; the poor must be sparing. [Rosina going to put out the Lamp, Dorcas looks after her and sighs; she returns hastily. Ros. Why do you sigh, Dorcas? Dor. I canno' bear it: it's nothing to Phœbe and me, but thou wast not born to labour. [Rising and pushing away the Wheel. Ros. Why should I repine? heaven, which deprived me of my parents, and my fortune, left me health, content, and innocence. Nor is it certain that riches lead to happiness. Do you think the nightingale sings the sweeter for being in a gilded cage? Dor. Sweeter, I'll maintain it, than the poor little linnet that thou pick'dst up half starved under the hedge yesterday, after its mother had been shot, and brought'st to life in thy bosom. Let me speak to his honour, he's main kind to the poor. AIR. The morn returns, in saffron drest, Shall strike the sprightly lyre. Enter Rustic, singing, followed by Reuperi Cho. Che. AIR. Rust. See, ye swains, yon streaks of red Call you from your slothful bed Late you till'd the fruitful soil; See! where harvest crowns your t Late you till'd the fruitful soil; See! where harvest crowns your is Rust. As we reap the golden corn, Laughing Plenty fills her horn What would gilded pomp avail Should the peasant's labour fail? What would gilded pomp aral Should the peasant's labour fail? Rust. Ripen'd fields your cares repay, Sons of labour haste away; Bending, see the waving grain, Crown the year, and cheer the s Bending, see the waving grain, Crown the year, and cheer the swa Rust. Hist! there's his honour. Where Ros. Your age, my good Dorcas, requires all the lazy Irishmen I hir'd yesterday rest; go into the coltage, whilst Phoebe and market? Ros. Not for the world, Dorcas, I want nothing; you have been a mother to me. Dor. Would I could! Would I could! I ha' worked hard and 'arn'd money in my time; but now I am old and feeble, and am push'd about by every body. More's the pity, I say; it was not so in my young time; but the world grows wickeder every day. I join the gleaners, who are assembling from every part of the village. Cho. Enter BELVILLE, followed by two Irishma and Servants. 1 Irish. Is it us he's talking of, Pad Then the devil may thank him for his commendations. Dor. Many a time have I carried thy dear mother, an infant, in these arms; little did I think a child of hers would live to share my poor pittance. But I wo'not grieve thee. [Dorcas enters the Cottage, looking back Bel. You are too severe, Rustic; the p affectionately at Rosina. fellows came three miles this morning; th Pho. What makes you so melancholy, Ro- fore I made them stop at the manor-bouse w Mayhap it's because you have not a take a little refreshment. sina? |