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laled, and Mr. Cumberland was set adrill with a compensation of scarcely a moicty in value of what he had heen deprived of. He now retired, with his family, to Tunbridge Wells, where he has continued, we believe, ever since to reside, universally respected. That a man of such learning, of such versatility of literary talent, such unquestionable genius, and such sound morality, should, in the vale of years," feel the wani of what he has lost by his exertions for the public good, must, to every feeling mind, he a subject of keen regreli yet the fact seems to be placed beyond doubt by the sellowing annunciation of his intention, in 1809, to publish a 4to volume of his dramas: "To the Public It was my purpose to have reserved these MSS. for the evenluat use and advantage of a beloved daughter after my decease; bat the circumstances of my story, which are before the public, and to which I can appeal without a blush, make it scedless for me to state wliy I am not able to fulfil that purpose: I therefore now, with full reliance on the candour and pr tection of my countrymen at large, solicit their subscription to these unpublished dramas; conscious as I am, thal neither in this instance, nor in any other throngh the course of my long-continued labours, have I wilfully directed the humble talents, with which God has endowed me, otherwise than to his service, and the genuine interesis (so far as I understood them) of benevolence and virtue. Richard Cumberland."

THE FASHIONABLE LOVER, Comedy by Richard Cumberland. Acled at Drury Lane 1772. This pieco followed The IV'est-Indian loo soon to increase the repalalion of its author. It was coldly received the first night; but undergoing some judicious alterations, improved in the public favour,

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

LORD ABBERVILLE.
MORTIMER.
AUBREY.
TYRREL.
BRIDGEMORE.

DOCTOR DRUID.

VISITORS.
JARVIS.

SERVANTS.
NAPTHALI.

AUGUSTA AUBREY.
LA JEUNESSE.

MRS. BRIDGEMORE.
COLIN MACLEOD.

LUCINDA BRIDGEMORE.
SCENE. - London.

MRS. MACINTOSH.
MAID-SERVANT.

me

ACT I.

the weams of you all together, say !, for a Scene I.-A Hall in LORD ABBERVILLE's pack of locusts; a cow in a clover-field has

House, with a Staircase seen through an more moderation than the best among you; Arch. Several Domestics waiting in rich had my lord Abberville the wealth of GlasLiveries. Flourish of French Horns. gow, you'd swallow it all down before you Enter Colin,-) hastily.

gee'd') over.

La Jeu. Ab, barbare! Here come my, lord. Colin. Hoor! 2) fellows, haud) your

[Exit. bonds : 4) pack up your damn'd clarinets, and

Enter LORD ABBERVILLE. gang your gaitsj for a pair of lubberly min- Lord A. Colin, see that covers are laid for strels as you are. Ano) you could hondle four-and-twenty, and supper served at twelve the bagpipe instead, I would na' say you nay: in the great eating-parlour. ab! 'tis an auncient instrument of great me- Colin. Ecod, my lord, had you ken’d 2) the lody, and has wbastled?) many a brau 8) braw mess of cakes and sweeties 3) that was hooded lad lo bis grave; but your holiday horns there up amongst 'em just now, you would na' are fit only, to play io a drunken city barge think there could be muckle *)need of supper on a swan-hopping) party up the Thames.

this night.
Lord A. What, fellow, would

you

have Enter LA JEUNESSE.

starve my guests? La Jeu. Fidon, monsieur Colin, for why Colin. Troth, an you don't, they'll go nigh you bave send away the borns? It is very to starve you. much the ton in this country for the fine gen- Lord A. Let me hear no more of this, Cotlemens to have the horns : upon my vord, mylin Macleod; I took you for my servant, not lord this day give grand entertainment to very for my adviser. grand company; tous les macaroni below

Colin. Right, my lord, you did; but if by stairs, et toute la coterie above. Hark, who advising I can serve you, where's the breach vait dere? My lord ring bis bell. - Voila, of duty in that?

[Erit. monsieur Colin, dere is all the company going Lord A. What a Highland savage it is! to the tea-room.

My father indeed mnade use of him to pay the Colin. (Looking oul] Now the de'il burst servants' wages, and post the tradesmen's ac

counts; as I never do either, I wish somebody 1) Colin pourtrays the character of a Scolchman, in his else had him that does.

station, most admirably, who is so addiuled lo praise
his own couplry, thal, as he says himself “a
North Briton would give up his virtue before (he

Enter MORTIMER, repeating to himse.f. would give up) his country, at any time."

Mort. Is this a dinner, this a genial room? >) Scotch exclamation for, oui, begone 3) Ilold.

This is a temple and a hecatomb. 4) Hands. 5) Go away, 6) If, 7) Whistled. 8) Brave.

Lord A. What, quoting, Mortimer, and sa9) It is customary, in the summer, for the Lord Mayor tire too?-I thought you need not go abroad

true

and Aldermen of London to sail in a barge up the Thames towards Richmond, to catch the young swans,

for that. and mark them, as the property of the cily; it is fe- Mort. True; therefore, I'm returning home. lony to sleal those that are thus marked.

The word –Good night to you. hop in this sense comes from the Norman word hap

2) Kuown. 3) Sweclmcals. 4) Much.

pir, lo caleh.

1) Gave.

never

Lord A. What, on the wing so soon! With teeth, Mr. Mortimer. What is the surlypoots so much company, can my philosopher want prabbling about ? Cot give her ?) coot luck ; food to feast his spleen upon ?

will the man never leave off his flings, and Mort. Food! I revolt against the name; no his fleers, and bis fegaries; packpiting his petBranin could abominate your fleshly meal ters ?-Coot, my lord, let me call him back, more than I do; why, Hirtius and Apicius and have a little tisputes and tisputations with would have blush'd for it: Mark Antony, who him, dy'e see. roasted eight whole boars for supper,

Lord A. Hang him, tedious rogue, let him go. massacred more at a meal than you have done. Dr. D. Tedious! ay, in coot truth is he, as

Lord A. A truce, good cynic: pr’ythee now tedious as a Lapland winter, and as melanget thee up stairs, and take my place; the la- choly too; bis crotchets and bis bumours damp dies will be glad of you at cards.

all mirth and merriment, as a wet blanket Mort. Me at cards! Me at a quadrille-ta- does a fire: he is the very night-mare of society. ble! Pent in with fuzzing dowagers, gossiping Lord A. Nay, he talks well sometimes. old maids, and yellow admirals; 'sdeath, my Dr. D. Ay, tis pig sound and little wit; lord Abberville, you must excuse me, like a loud pell to a pad dinner.

Lord A. Out on thee, unconformable being; Lord A. Patience, good doctor, patience! thou art a traitor to society.

Another time you shall have your revenge; at Mort. Do you call that society?

present you must lay down your wrath, and Lord A. Yes; but not my society; none take up your attention. such as you describe will be found here; my Dr. D. I've done, my lord, I've done: laugh circle, Mr. Mortimer, is formd by people of at my putterflies indeed! If he was a pig and the first fashion and spirit in this country. as pold as king, Gryffyn, doctor Druid would

Mort. Fashion and spirit! Yes, their coun- make free to whisper an oord 2) or two in try's like to suffer by their fashion more than his ear. 'twill ever profit by their spirit.

Lord A. Peace, choleric king of the moun-
Lord A. Come, come, your temperis too sour. tains, peace.
Mort. And your's too sweet:

a mawkish
Dr. D. I've done, my lord; I

say,

I've done, lump of manna; sugar in the mouth, but phy- Lord A. If you have done, let me begin. sic to the bowels.

You must know then, I expect my city maLord A. Mr. Mortimer, you was my father's dam from Fishstreet-hill. executor; I did not know your office extend- Dr. D. Ay, ay, the rich pig-pellied fellow's ed any further.

daughter, young madam Pridgemore, my lady Mort. No; when I gave a clear estate into Apperville, that is to be, pless ber, and save your hands, I clear'd myself of an unwelcome her, and make her a coot wife, say I. office: I was, indeed, your father's executor; Lord A. Pr’ythee, good doctor, don't put a the gentlemen of fashion and spirit will be man in mind of his misfortunes: I tell you, your lordship’s.

she is coming here by appointment, with old Lord A. Pooh! Yoz've been black-balld 1) Bridgemore and her mother; 'tis an execrable at some paltry port-drinking club; and set up group; and, as I mean to make all things as for a man of wit and ridicule.

easy to me as I can, I'm going out to avoid Mort. Not I, believe me: your companions being tronbled with their impertinence. are too dull to laugh at, and too vicious to Dr. D. Going out, my lord, with

your expose.—There stands a sample of your choice, house full of company?

Lord A. Who, doctor Druid? Where's the Lord A. Oh, that's no objection; none in harm in him?

the least; fashion reconciles all those scruples : Moru Where is the merit? What one to consult your own ease in all things is the quality does that old piece of pedantry pos- very first article in the recipe for good breedsess to fit bim for the liberal office of travel- ing: when every man looks after himself, no ling-preceptor to a man of rank? You know, one can complain of neglect; but, as these my lord, I recommended you a friend as fit maxims may not be orthodox on the eastern to form your manners as your morals; but he side of Temple-bar, you must stand gentlewas a restraint; and, in his stead, you took man-usher in this spot; put your best face that Welshman, that buffoon, that antiquarian, upon the matter, and marsbal my citizens into forsooth, who looks as if you had rak'd him the assembly-rooin, with as much ceremony out of the cinders of Mount Vesuvius. as if they came up with an addresss from the

Lord A. And so I did: but prythee, Mor-whole company of cordwainers. 5) timer, don't run away; I long to have you Dr. D. Out on it, you've some tevilish

oomans in the wind; for when the tice are Mort. You must excuse me.

rattling above, there's nothing but teath, or the Lord 4. Nay, I must have you better friends. tevil, could keep you below. -Come bither, doctor; hark'e

Lord A. You've guest it; such a divine, deNort. Another time: at present, I am in no licious, little devil, lurks in my heart; Glenhumour to stay the discussion of a cockle-dower himself could not exorcise her: I am shell, or the dissection of a butterfly's wing: possess'd; and from the hour I saw her by

[Exit. surprise, I have been plotting methods how Enter Doctor DRUID.

to meet her; a lucky opening offers; the mine Dr. D. Putterflies ! 2) Putterflies in your The' hard and soft letters in their pronunciation of

words; thus they say Putterlies, for Bulterflies, etc. 1) Alluding to the electing or refusing a member in any 1) The word her is used by the Welsh for all the presociety by means of white and black balls.

nouns, in all the persons, and all the cases. *) Word. 2) 'The welsh manner of speaking English will be easily 3) The company of Shoemakers (Cordubanarins),

derstood, if we bear in mind that they always changed the most inportant in the cilv.

meet.

your brain.

is laid, and Bridgemore's visit is the signal above stairs-Our card was from lady Carofor springing it.

line; I
suppose

she is not from home, as well Dr. D. Pridgemore's! How so?

as her brother. Lord A. Why, 'tis with him she lives; what Dr. D. Who waits there? show the ladies up. else could make it difficult, and what but dif- Bridge. Ay, ay, go up, and show your ficulty could make me pursue it? They pru- cloaths, I'll chat with doctor Druid here below. dently enough would have concealed her from (Exeunt Ladies.], I love to talk with men me; for who can think of any other, when that know the world: they tell me, sir, you've miss Aubrey is in sight?—But bark! they're travelled it all over. come; I must escape-Now, love and fortune Dr. D. Into a pretty many parts of it. stand

my
friends!

TE.cit Bridge. Well, and what say you, sir? you're Dr. D. Pless us, what hastes and hurries glad to be at home; nothing I warrant like he is in! and all for some young hussy-Ahold England. Ah! what's France, and Spain, he'll never have a proper relish for the vener- and Burgundy, and Flanders! no, old Engable antique: I never shall bring down his land for my money; 'tis worth all the world mercury to touch the proper freezing point, besides. which ihat of a true virtuoso ought to stand Dr. D. Your pelly says as much; 'twill fill at: sometimes, indeed, he will contemplate a the pot, but starve ihe prain; 'tis full of corn, beautiful statue, as if it was a coman; I never and sheep, and villages, and people: England, could persuade him to look upon a beautiful to the rest of the oorld, is like a flower-gardes ooman, as if she was a statue.

to a forest.

Bridge. Well, but the people, sir; what Enter BridgeMORE, Mes. BRIDGEMORE, and say you to the people? LUCINDA.

Dr. D. Nothing: I never meddle with the Bridge. Doctor, I kiss your hands; I kiss human species; man, living man, is no obyour hands, good doctor:- How these nobles ject of my curiosity; nor ooman neither; at live! Zooks, what a swinging chamber! least, Mr. Pridgemore, till she shall be made

Mrs. B. Why, Mr. Bridgemore, sure you a mummies of. think yourself in Leathersellers’-hall

.

Bridge. I understand you; you speak in Luc. Pray recollect yourself, papa; indeed the way of trade; money's your object. this is not Fishstreet-bill.

Dr. D. Money and trade! I scorn 'em Bridge. I wish it was: I'd soon unhouse both; the beaten track of commerce I disdain: this trumpery: I'd soon furnish it with better I've traced the Oxus, and the Po; traversed goods: why this profusion, child, will turn the Riphæan Mountains, and pierced into the

inmost Tesarts of Kalmuc 'Tartary — follow Mrs.B. Law, how you stand and stare at trade indeed! no; l've followed the ravages things; stopping in the ball to count the ser- of Kouli Chan with rapturous delight: there vants, gaping at the lustre there, as if you'd is the land of wonders; finely, depopulated; swallow it. I suppose our daughter, when gloriously laid waste; fields without a loof to she's a woman of quality, will behave as other tread 'em; fruits without a band to gather'em; women of quality do.-Lucinda, this is doctor with such a catalogue of pats, peetles, serDruid, lord Abberville's travelling tutor, a pents, scorpions, caterpillars, toads-oh! 'tis gentleman of very ancient family in North a recreating contemplation, to a philosophic Wales.

mind! Luc. So it should seem, if he's the repre- Bridge. Out on 'em, filthy vermin, I hope sentative of it.

you left 'em where you found 'em. Dr. D. Without flattery, Mrs. Bridgemore, Dr. D. No, to my honour be it spoken, I miss has very much the behaviours of an 00- bave imported above fifty different sorts of man of quality already.

mortal poisons into my native country. Mrs. B. Come, sir, we'll join the company,

Bridge. Lack-a-day, there's people enough lord Abberville will think us late.

at home can poison their native country. Dr. D. Yes truly, he's impatient for our coming; but you shall find him not at home.

Enter Mrs. BRIDGEMORE and LUCINDA. Mrs. B. How! Not at home?

Luc. A mighty proof of bis impatience, So , ladies, have you finished your visit altruly.

ready? Dr. D. Why, 'twas some plaguy business Mrs. B. We've made our courtesies and took him out; but we'll dispatch it out of come away, hand, and wait upon you quickly.

Dr. D. Marry, the fates and the fortunes Bridge. Well, business, business must be forbid that

you
'should

go,
till
my

lord comes done.

back. Mrs. B. I thought my lord had been a man Luc. Why not? if my lord treats me alof fashion, not of business.

ready with the freedom of a husband, shouldn't Luc. And so he is; a man of the first fa- I begin to practice the indifference of a wife? shion; you cannot have a fresher sample: the

[E.reunt. worst gallant in nature is your macaroni; Dr. D. Well, but the supper, Mr. Pridgewith the airs of a coquette you meet the more; you a citizen, and leave the supper? manners of a clown: fear keeps bim in some Bridge. Your fifty mortal poisons have giawe before the men, but not one spark of ven me my supper: scorpions, and bats, and passion has he at heart, to remind him of toads-come, let's be gone.

[Exit. The ladies.

Dr. D. Would they were in your pelly! Mrs.B. Well, we must make our courtesy

[Éxit

. Scene II.-An Apartment in Bridgemore's never be taken as flattery by another: in short, House.

my lord, I must entreat you to let the ser

vants show you to some litter apartment. I Enter Miss Aubrey and TYRREL, and a am here in a very particular situation, and

Maid-servant with Lighls. have the strongest reasons for what I request. Aug. How I am watch'd in this house you Lord A. I guess your reasons, but cannot well know, Mr. Tyrrel; therefore you must admit them. I love you, madam; let that denot stay: what you have done and suffer'd claration be my excuse. for my sake I never can forget; and 'tis with Aug. Nay, now your frolic has the air of joy I see you now, at last, surmount your insult, and I insist upon your leaving me. difficulties by the recovery of lord Courtland: [4 rapping is heard at the Door. may your life never be again exposed on my Luc. [From without] Who's within there? account.

Aug. Hark, bark, miss Bridgemore, as I Tyr. I glory in proctecting you: when he, live.-Come in. or any other rake, repeats the like offence, í Luc. Come in! why you have lock'd the shall repeat the like correction. I am

now door. going to my uncle Mortimer, who does not Aug. Lock'd! is it lock'd ?-for shame, for know that I am in town. Life is not life shame! thus am I sacrific'd to your ungenewithout thee; never will I quit his feet, till I rous designs :-she must come in. have obtained his voice for our alliance. Lord A. Stay, stay; she must not find me

Aug. Alas! What hope of that from Mr. here; there's one retreat; your chamber; lock Mortimer, whose rugged nature knows no me in there: I may still escape. happiness itself, nor feels complacency in that Luc. [From without] What are you about, of others ?

miss Aubrey ? Let me in. Tyr. When you know Mr. Mortimer, you'll Aug. Where shall I turn myself? You're find how totally the world mistakes him. Fare- ruined all: if you're discovered," I shall never well, my dear Augusta; back'd with thy gain belief. virtuous wishes, how can I fail to prosper? Lord A. Be advised then: we bare_only [He goes out, and she enters an inner this chance left. [Goes to the Bed-room Door.

Apartment. The Maid-servant imme- Luc. Miss Aubrey, if you don't let me in

diately introduces Lord Abberville. immediately, I shall call up mamma; so pray Sero. All's sale; follow me, my lord; she unlock the door. is in her bed-chamber.

Aug. I scarce know what I do. [After lockLord A. Where; where?

ng Lord Alberville in, opens the outward Serv. There; where you see the light through Door] There, madam, you're obeyed. the glass-door. If I thought you had any Luc. Why, surely, you affect extraordinary wicked designs in your head, I wouldn't bave privacy. It seems you've had your Tyrrel in brought you here for the world; I should be our absence. murder'd if the family were to know it: for Aug. Yes, Mr. Tyrrel has been here. pity's sake, my lord, never belray me.

Luc. Humph! you're in mighty, spirits. Lord A. Go, get you gone; never talk of| Aug. No, madam; my poor spirits suit my treason, my thoughts are full of love. [The poor condition: you, I hope, are rich in every Maid-servant goes out] First I'll secure the sense. door: 'will not be amiss to bar this retreat. Luc. She's bappy. I can see, though she [Locks the Door, and advances to the Glass- attempts to hide it: I can't bear her. [Aside] door] Ay, there she is! – How.pensive is --Pray, miss Aubrey, what are your designs thot posture!—Musing on her condition; which, -lo ruin this young man? in truth, is melancholy enough: an humble Aug. Madam! cousin to a vulgar tyrant.—'Sdeath, she can- Luc. Can you now in your heart suppose not choose but jump at my proposals.—See, that Mortimer will let his nephew marry you? she weeps. — I'm glad on't-Grief disposes to Depend upon't (I tell you as your friend) as compliance—'Tis the very moment to assail soon as that old cynic hears of it (which I her.

have taken care he shall), your hopes are [She comes to the Door, with the Candle crushed at once.

in her Hand; seeing Lord Abberville, Aug. When were they otherwise? siarts.

Luc. I don't know what to make of her Aug. Who's there; who's at the door? she seerns confus'd-her eyes wander stranAh!

gely: watching the bed-room door-what is Lord A. Hush, hush; your screams will it she looks at? rouse the house. - 'Tis I, 'miss Aubrey — 'tis Aug. Where ai e you going? lord Abberville - Give me your hand-Nay, Luc. Going! Nay, no where- she's alarmbe composed.—Let me set down the candle: ed-miss Aubrey, I have a foolish notion in

my head, that Mr. Tyrrel's in this house. Aug. Safe, my lord! Yes, I'm safe; but Aug. No, on my word-shall I light you you are mistaken; miss Bridgemore's not at to your room? home; or, if she was, this is no place to Luc. So ready!-No; your own will serve: meet her in.

I can adjust my head-dress at your glass-Lord A. I'm glad of that; bless'd in miss Hey-day; all's fast-you've locked the crorAubrey's company, I wish no interruption Aug. Have I, indeed ? from miss Bridgemore.

Luc. Yes, have you, madam; and if my Aug. I should be loath to think so; an suspicion's true, your lover's in it-open it. arowal of baseness to one woman, should! Aug. I beg lo be excused.

you are safe.

over

me,

ale

Luc. Oh! are you caught at last? Admit me.

ACT II.
Aug. You cannot sure be serious — think
I've the sanction of a guest.

SCENE I.- A Library in MORTIMER'S House, Luc. Ridiculous! I'll raise the house-let

MORTIMER alone. me come to the bell.

Mort. So! so! another day; another twelve Aug. flold! hold! you don't know what hours round of folly and extravagance: 'pshaw! you do: for your own sake desist: to save I am sick on't. What is it our men of geyour own confusion, more than mine, desist, 'nius are about? Jarring and jangling with and seek no further.

each other, while a vast army of vices Luc. No, madam; if I spare you, may the runs the whole country at discretion. shame that waits for you fall on ny head.

Enter JARVIS. Aug. At your own peril be it then! Look there. [Opens and discovers Lord Abbervillc. Now, Jarvis, what's your news?

Luc. Astonishing! Lord Abberville! This is Jar. My morning budget, sir, a breakfast indeed extraordinary; this, of all frolics mo- of good deeds : the offerings of a full hear!, dern wit and gallantry have given birth to, and the return of an emply purse. There, is in the newest and the boldest style. sir, 've done your errand; and wish here

Lord A. Upon my life, miss Bridgemore, after you could find another agent for your my visit has been entirely innocent.

charities. Luc. Oh, yes! I give you perfect credit for Mort. Why so, Charles ? your innocence; the hour, ihe place, your Jar. Because the task grows heavy; besides, lordship's character, the lady's composure, all I'm old and foolish, and the sight is too afare innocence itself. Can't you affect a little fecting. surprise, ma'am, at finding a gentleman in Mort. Why doesn't do like then ? your bed-room, though you placed him there Sheath a soft heart in a rough case, 'twill yourself? So excellent an aciress might pre- wear the longer; veneer thyself, good Jarvis, iend a fit on the occasion: Oh, you have not as thy master does, and keep a marble outball your part:

side io the world. Who dreams that I am Lord 4. Indeed, miss Bridgemore, you look ihe lewd fool of pity, and thou my pander, upon this in too serious a light.

Jarvis, my provider? You found out the poor Luc. No: be assured I'm charmed with your fellow then, the half-pay officer I met last address; you are a perfect fashionable lover: Sundayso agreeable to invite us to your house, so Jar. With difficulty; for he obtruded not well-bred to be from home, and so consider- his sorrows on the world; but in despair had

to visit poor miss Aubrey in our ab- crept into a corner, and, with his wretched sence: altogether, I am puzzled which to family about him, was patiently expiring. prefer, your wit, politeness, or your honour. Mórt. Priylhee, no more on't : you sav'd

Aug. 'Miss Bridgemore, 'tis in vain to urge him; you reliev'd him; no matter how; you my innocence to you; heaven and my own made a fellow-creature happy, that's enough. heart acquit me; I must endure the censure Jar. I did, sir; but bis story's so affectingof the world.

Mort. Keep it to thyself, old man, then; Luc. O madam, with lord Abherville's pro-why must my heart be wrung? I too am one tection you may set that at nought: to him of nature's spoilt children, and hav’n't yet left I recommend you: your company in this off the tricks of the nursery. house will not be

very

welcome. [Erit. Lord A. [To her, as she goes ou:] Then,

Enter Servant. madam, she shall come to mine; my house, Serv. Sir, Mr. Tyrrel's come to town, and my arms are open to receive her. — Fear begs to see you. nothing, set her at defiance; resign yourself Mort. Let him come in. to my protection; you shall face your tyrant, outface her, shine above her, put her down in

Enter TYRREL. splendour as in beauty; be no more the servile So, rephew, what brings you to town? I thing her cruelty has made you; but be the thought you was a prisoner in the country. life, ihe leader of each public pleasure, the envy of Tyr. I was; but now my lord Couriland all womankind, the mistress of my bappiness, has obtained his liberty, no reason holds why

Aug. And murderer of my own. No, 110, I should not recover mine. my lord, I'll perish first: the last surviving Mort. Well, sir, how have you filld up orphan of a noble house, I'll not digrace it: your time? In practising fresh thrusts, or refrom these mean, unfeeling people, who 10 penting of that wbich is pas!? You've drawn the bounty of my ancestors owe all they your sword to satisfy one man, now think of have, I shall expect no mercy; but you, whom satisfying the rest of mankind. even pride might teach some virtue, you to Tyr. You know my story, sir: I drew my tempt me, you with unmanly cunning to se- sword in the defence of innocence; to punish duce distress yourself created, sinks you deep- and repel the libertine attempts of an er in contempt than heaven sinks me in po- bled ruffian; every man of honour would have verty and shame.

[Exit

. done the same. Lord A. A very unpromising campaign truly, Mort. Yes, bonour: you young men one lady lost, and the other in no way of subtle arguers; the cloak of honour covers being gained. Well, I'll return to my com- all your faults, as that of passion all your pany; there is this merit however in gaming, follies. ihat it makes all losses appear trivial but its Tyr. Honour is what mankind have made

[Exit.lit; and as we bold our lives upon these terins

enno

are

own.

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