Y. Man. Aye! I hold it such an abominable ignorance of duty.

Adm. Ignorance of duty!-why, you palavering whipper-snapper, am I to be taught my duty, after having had the command of a fleet, by such a sneaking son of a whore as you?

Y. Man. Nay, but why so hot, my good friend? You cannot think I meant to offend you?

Adm. Not mean to offend, when you tell me I don't know how to command? Ignorance of duty, indeed— Out of my way, you live lumber-D―n you, I only thought you were mad, but now I find you're a fool.

[Exit.

Y. Man. Ha! ha! ha! ha! At any other time I should have been a good deal vexed to have offended old True Blue, that's certain; but at this moment my heart's so crowded with sensations of mirth and joywith such a confused jumble of contending raptures— with so much delight at what has already passed, and such a maddening anticipation of what is yet to come, that no thought of apprehensive care can obtain sanctuary in my bosom. My dear Julia, my own. Julia ! Oh! that idea overpowers me with transport-Gad so, there's Sir William-if I stay here much longer, playing the fool, I shall be observed by some of the family, and then-adieu to all my hopes-What shall I do ?— I'll return to the Star Inn, which is just in view of the house, and deceive the tedious interval with my companions whom I left there, till my fair day-star arises, that leads me to new life, to happiness, and love. [Exit.

ACT II.

Scene I.-A nearer View of Sir William Wingrove's House. (Moon-light.)

Enter JULIA. She opens the door gently; and appearance of irresolution, shuts it after her. comes forward.

after an

She then

Julia. So, now my fate's decided!-What have I done?—I dare not think upon it-If Manly now deceives me, I am undone-Shall I go back, and consent to be the wife of Lord Dartford ?-that must follow -for but too well I know, that tenderness never yet prevailed upon the stern ambition of my father's nature-But why should I doubt my Henry's unstained honour?-Though he is wild, whom did he ever wrong?-Pardon, dear Manly-pardon the unjust suspicion of thy Julia-and see he comes to clear my heart of doubt. [MANLY sings without.

Oh, gracious heaven, is this the man I've chosen to be the guardian of my honour!-Fly, fly, my feet-let me but reach my father's-the door is fast; I have now no hope left, unless the wild confusion that wine has made in him, prevent his observing me. Heaven grant it may! [Conceals herself behind a tree, and draws a veil over her face.

Enter YOUNG MANLY, singing.

Heighten every joy to-day, and never mind to

morrow."

Aye, so say I.-The present-the present is the only time that's worth a wise man's concern-why should we give ourselves any trouble about to-morrow, when we don't know that to-morrow will ever reach us?-or that we shall reach it, which is pretty nearly the same

thing, I take it; and then there is just so much good care thrown away.-'Fore heaven, the man that wrote that song must have been a most profound person— that single line ought to have immortalized him-it shall be my motto. [Sings.

"Why the plague should we be sad,

Whilst on earth we moulder;

Whether we're merry, or grave, or mad,
We every day grow older."

'Sdeath, the ground's full of rocks and quicksands, I think; my feet either sink or stumble at every stepWhat can be the reason? I that am so steady a goer― always, always was-all my life-Egad, I believe the thickets are going to dance-May be, they mistake me for Orpheus-Nay, gentlemen, if you pay such a compliment to my singing, I can do no less than take a turn with you-I am as frolicsome as you can be for the soul of you-so now, let me choose my partner.

[Catches at a tree, behind which JULIA is concealed, who shrieks.

By all the silvan powers, another Daphne! [Kneels. Madam, behold a swain, not altogether so musical as Apollo, I grant you, but a good honest fellow for all that-So, madam, so-psha, never mind more words— let us go.

Julia. Oh, my hard fortune!

Y. Man. What do you say?-Speak out, my angel!— I know that your voice is more tuneful than Philomel's, or mine that your eyes are the sparkling harbingers of love-that your dimples are the chosen hiding-places of all the cupids-and those lips!—But hold-rot it -I had forgot-I can't see e'er a one of them-Never mind-no matter for that-I dare say it's all true; and if it isn't, why then we must mend the matter with thinking.

Julia. Oh heavens! is it possible!

Y. Man, No, certainly-it cannot be possible-it

isn't possible-Come, come, I know you are kind as you are beautiful, and so it is possible-and so, without more waste of time, come to my arms, and

Julia. It is in vain to reason with him in this state-o I must endeavour to divert his attention, and by that means escape him if I can.-If you will permit me to be your guide

Y. Man. Enough, my pretty pilot; take me where you will. We will never part any more, shall we?

No, never.

Julia. I dare say not, sir.

Y. Man. Not, sir?-Why to be sure not, sir-Never, never, never.

Julia. Let us walk quickly. [Aside.] Oh, heaven!

assist me.

Y. Manly. As quick as you please, my angel-I'll fly, if you choose, for I'm very steady, and very loving. [Exeunt.

Scene II-A Wood.

Enter JULIA.

Julia. At length, thank heaven! I have escaped.Escaped-but is this a place of safety? What will become of me? Yet 'tis some comfort, that the day appears-Oh, Manly! thou hast made life hateful to me. Who comes here?-I've surely seen his face. Oh! I remember I have seen him sometimes at my aunt's, with lace and gauzes-If he should not know me, perhaps I may prevail on him to conceal me— -He has a wife, I Let me consider what I shall say to him.

know.

Enter LARRON, with bundles.

Dese villain custome-house officers give von honest man no reste-You go to bed late-you rise earlypardie-you sit up all night-it make no difference,

dey vil be vid you-May foi, I believe they tink sleep contrabande. [Sees JULIA.] Ah! par St. Dominique, here be von young ladi en great agitation-Ah! par hazard her equipage est un peu derangé, and she be retire here till tout soit ajusté-a littel civilitiè de ma parte, me produira peutêtre beaucoup de pratique on de ladi's-En verité, de torough-bred trader know how to faire son profit de chaque circonstance-Madame, excusé-but you seem beaucoup affligé si madame—if I can by de utmost exertion of mine contribuer en de smallest instance to votre accomodation, I shall consider de fortune vich led me dis vay, as de plus grande felicité de ma vie, de greatest happiness of my life.

Julia. He speaks very civilly; I think I may venture to tell him so much of my unhappy situation, as may let him know how much I need his assistance.

Larron. Madame, you no ansere-May I beg de faveur to be informe, if I can merite l'honneur de vous rendre le moindre service? Your servants, madame, ave you any lettel message to convey to dem? May I hope you will permit a me de vous escorter a votre

carosse ?

Julia. Sir, you mistake the matter entirely-I have neither coach, servants, nor friends at present.-The cruelty of one in whom I most confided, has involved me in this calamity; and I must thankfully avail myself of your obliging offers of service, by entreating the shelter of your roof, till I can dispose of myself, so as not to be an incumbrance to any one.

Lar. Eh, my dear-vat you say?-You no coche, no servantes, no friend, no house, no home, you vant to come and live a vid me?-Non, non, ma fille-dat vill not do-non, non-Dere be de vat do you call? de maison d'industrie, de vorkhouse for de poor girl— Personne go to my house, but such as peut faire une belle depense.

Julia. [Aside.] Mercenary wretch!

[Going.