In far and feeble starlight! must fly the country. Our pride has had a fall. Ven. Aye: now boast-now triumph. A Death-fall!-and so hard a one, that may I be in the Gazette 1), if I ever try a fall again. Here, Victoria; Leonora, help to bear up your mother's griefs. Hers is a heavy case, a very weighty concern, indeed. She see through a rogue! She might as well see to the end of a suit in Chancery. Pride-ruin-madness! [Exeunt SCENE III.An Apartment in VENTOSo's House. VICTORIA and LEONORA come in. This be all, Early or late, Lorenzo's epitaph: TORRENTO and LEONORA re-appear. Vic. At home again! Stay with me, Leoпога- -My brain is wild. I can scarcely think that we have escaped from that hideous prison. Did not Lorenzo upbraid me, cast me off?I will take the veil. Leon. Take the veil! take nothing but Tor. Who dares insult her? That rioter courage. Your beauty might kill a whole regi come again! Sir, the man who offends this ment of officers, instead of pining for one. lady must not live. [Lorenzo turns. I would not give a sigh to save the whole Lor. I had forgot!-Vagabond,-Ho-Jai-army-list-Yet, I feel some strange, delightful lor! Fling this impostor into the dungeon hope, that all will yet be well-Your Prince, from which I took him. you see, was one of my adorers-In coming [Ventoso and the Females in surprise. to marry you, he thought he was come to Tor. Draw, and defend yourself! [The marry me. Monstrous impudence in either Jailor, Lazaro, and Assistants, rush in case.-I shall have him yet for all that, if I'm behind Torrento, and pinion him. The woman. Hussars return] Stiletto! 'Tis the jail-com Enter PISANIO. [Asile pletely tricked, trapped, trepanned. What's Pisan. Ladies, your immediate attendance all this for? [To the Jailor]-Handcuffs-at the palace is commanded by order of the '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! impossible! sand sequins-ten-twenty thousand. The Leon. Torrento, Viceroy! incredible! Got Count will go security. [Aside] Count, I say-out of prison-got into the palace-He is the [Calling. great sublime of impudence. I adore him Ven. I am deaf. Security! Swindler! How for his ingenuity.-Can the news be true? shall we escape? Pisan. Nothing more certain; the nobility Leon. Undone-undone. Save him, dear are going in crowds to the palace-the Count father, save him. and Countess have been summoned, and are Jail. Restive! Ho! on with the handcuffs, already gone. The guards are on parade:Lazaro. The bosom friends! and one of the officers is now waiting below, Lor. Off with that culprit to his dungeon. to have the honour of escorting you, when Tor. Count and Countess, this is a con- the carriage_returns. spiracy. I will have justice!-vengeance!- Leon. Runs to the Mirror]- Heavens, Scoundrels! high treason!-injur'd prince!-what a bead! the damp of that odious prison Pindemonté!— [He is carried off. has made me the very emblem of a weeping Ven. Let us escape. Security indeed! Here willow. - Come, sister, dear Victoria, rise! is security with a vengeance-locks and bars-Will you wear plumes or roses? But smile, to find myself in a jail! Open the door! and you will conquer. You can then returns, [They knock. and-take the veil, if you choose. [She attempts to arrange her Dress, Victoria repels her. Col. [A Bugle sounds] Officers! the cal! to parade. Troopers! Pride! Ha, ha, ha! Troopers! Birth-Pride! ha, ha! [He urges the Major and Cornet out, laughing. Trio.-(Italian.) Lor. Count and Ladies, farewell. We have Spirit of Love! the heart still deceiving; inet for the last time. You, Victoria, have Still, on the dim eye delicious dreams weaving: suffered for the crime of inconstancy; you, Still, with sad pleasure the torn bosom heaving: Count, for the folly of being a slave to the Go! I'm thy slave and thy victim no more! will of women; you, Countess, for the violence LEONORA. of your temper; and all for your common Spirit of Hope! from thy light pinions shedding crime, Pride! Farewell for ever. [Exit. Flowers where the steps of young Passion are Vic. If sorrow - shame — penitence! -Ob, Lorenzo!-He's gone. treading, PISANIO. Sunny hues over life's sullen clouds spreading. 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 ending day in prison. [Aside. Come, like the bow with the summer storm 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 SCENE IV. - And Last. A Saloon in the Palace. Attendants i.: 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! Ste. Yes, Madam, if I would preserve my ears.- -I never ran foul of such a fire-ship before. - [Aside]-Your Prince you shall see. You would make the best match since the fall of Babel. [He goes out. The COLONEL, MAJOR, and CORNET, enter at the opposite Door. Maj. Ha, ba-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 [He walks aside. tongue. 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. Col. Ho! the Count and Countess. Come, don't turn away; let us be friends. Cor. Her Ladyship! Excuse me, Colouel Coun. Now, husband, what have you to say the Hussars never notice the Heavys). 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. Coun. Wise head! the Prince has sent for 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, I ́should like a suite here, with a handsome pension. Maj. Aye, to improve the modesty of mankind, your Ladyship. Ven. But what-what were you saying of Maj. He is this moment closeted with the Ven. I don't doubt you, my love; a taste estate! In his infancy he had been sent from for the public money is not uncommon in either sex. Italy with a large sum in jewels to his family 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! Madam, 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. Cor. An alliance perfectly matrimonial, Count. [Voices within] "Room for his Highness the Prince!-room! Enter ATTENDANTS, announcing the VICEROY. Flourish of Music. Enter STEFANO, splendidly dressed, and attended by the firs 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. Aside. Ven. Well resolved, Countess; do so, and we shall both be quiet for life. Stefano the [Laughter. viceroy!—We shall both be sent to the galleys. Tor. [Within] Asses and idiots! out of my 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 overwhelmed! 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 Pindemonté. Come to your Lor. Nothing, my Lord, [Leading Victoria] but to express my delight, my happiness, at this day's discovery; my reverence, my love. [They kneel 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 strong as life or death. We are one. [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 cast charger—it will carry the mark beyond all cure. Maj. Aye, like a scar on a fine woman's reputation-it will go on widening for lifeCor. They will be in no want of our trumpeters now they will be blown every step they go. Enter LORENZ0, unperceived but by VICTORIA. Lor. My father! my generous, noble father' Ste. There, Sir, go mollify the Countess The HUSSARS approach. Officers. We congratulate you, Prince. Lady, we wish you all happiness. [To Victoris. Ste. How I obtained the knowledge of my son, how I preserved my incognito as Viceroy till the search was complete-you shall bea at the banquet,—to which I now invite you all. 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 web the happiest discovery. I have just been 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? with the [The Countess sees him.] tongues Shall lisp our names; and old men, o'er their fires, [To Victoria 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. 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 husyou would have, Captain? We're in the jail band for the lady. again! Gang of thieves!-[To Countess] Cor. Excuse me, Colonel, we, the Twer Sir, is there any thing about me that strikes tieth, are not connubial. But if the girl want your taste?[Going up to the Hussars]-a husband, I'll state the circumstance on p Or your's, Sir? My watch and seals 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 fin out fathers too. Pray, whose son am I? some body'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. Mediterranean for a fish-pond. Ven. With all my heart. I'll have a loan as long as from China to Chili. I'll have Ste. And, with them, Anselmo's estate. 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 Coun. I'm thunderstruck. titles, and be as happy as mirth, money, and Ste. Torrento, stand forth; you are Ansel-macaroni can make you, mo's heir! you are the banker's son! [To Leonora and the rest.] Maj. Then, upon my conscience, there'll be Now! to the banquet. Having fix'd our fates a 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, magnificent! a golden shower!-Leonora, my With generous hearts around, I scorn to fear-love, we'll have a wedding worthy of bankers. Where heroes judge, and beauty pleads the What trinkets will you have? the Pitt dia cause, mond, or the Great Mogul? A banker, my Who talks of censure? Give me your applause. angel! '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. John Brooke, rector of Colney, in Norfolk, of St. Augustine, in the city of Norwich, and chaplain to the garrison of Quebec. Her husband died Jan. 21, 1789; and she herself on the 26th of the same month, at Sleaford, at the house of her son, who had a preferment in that part of the country. Mrs. Brooke was a lady of first-rate abilities, and as remarkable for gentleness and suavity of manners, as for her literary talents. She wrote and published some admirable novels (among which were, Lady Julia Mandeville, Emily Montague, Marquis of St. Forlaix, and The Excursion); a periodical paper, 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 Palemon and Lavinia (in Thomson's Seasons), or Boaz and Ruth, in the Scripture, and was performed with great applause. It has, however, the disadvantage of wanting the grace of novelty, and the pleasure of surprise; as must always be the case with seriptural stories, or others of notoriety. The music, by Shield, is charming, and can never fail of attracting attention. Of all the petite pieces that are exhibited on the British stage, Rosina is perhaps the least offensive to the severe moralist; as it corrects the mind, while it pleases the senses, SCENE 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. In 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 at and PHOEBE, just within the Door, are measuring Corn; WILLIAM comes from the top of the Stage; they sing the following Trio. When the rosy morn appearing [William retires. 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, Dor cas looks after her and sighs; she returns hastily. Ros. Why do you sigh, Dorcas ? Dor. I canno' bear it: it's nothing to Phoebe 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 hali 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. 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, say; it was not so in my young time; but the world grows wickeder every day. the stile, How sweet is the nightingale's song! And believe every word of his song: Whilst the moon plays yon branches among [During the last Stanza William appears at the end of the Scene, and makes Signs to Phabe; who, when it is finished, steals sofily to him, and they dis appear. Ros. How small a part of my evils is poverty! And how little does Phoebe know the heart she thinks insensible! the heart which nourishes a hopeless passion. I blest, like others, Belville's gentle virtues, and knew not that 'twas love. Unhappy! lost Rosina! AIR. The morn returns, in saffion drest, But sad Rosina ne'er again Shall strike the sprightly lyre. Rust. [Without] To work, my hearts of oak, to work; here the sun is half an hour high, and not a stroke struck yet. Enter Rustic, singing, followed by Reupers. Cho. AIR. Rust. See, ye swains, yon streaks of red Cho. Cho. Ros. Your age, my good Dorcas, requires all the lazy Irishmen I hir'd yesterday at rest; go into the cottage, whilst Phoebe and market?" I join the gleaners, who are assembling from every part of the village. Enter BELVILLE, followed by two Irishmen and Servants. 1 Irish. Is it us he's talking of, Paddy? Then the devil may thank him for his good 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 poor affectionately at Rosina. fellows came three miles this morning; there Pho. What makes you so melancholy, Ro- fore I made them stop at the manor-house to sina? Mayhap it's because you have not a take a little refreshment. |