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SCENE I. An Apartment in STIRLING'S House. Enter MRS. HONEYMOUTH and CLARA.

Mrs. H. Well, Clara, I protest feel quite delighted at our escape from the smoke of London: this new purchase of your father's seems to possess every charm of rural retirement.

Enter STIRLING.

Stir. Ah! Clara, my dear, how dost do? Good day, cousin.-Well, I suppose you have had a ramble; how d'ye like the house and grounds, eh?

Clara. Very much indeed, sir; 'tis really a most elegant little villa.

Stir. Ab, so it ought-it cost an elegant little sum of money. What do you think of it, coz?

Mrs. H. O, delicious! we shall pass our time admirably; and with the new publications we can procure from Mr. Jumble

Stir. Pshaw! Jumble's a puppy-he hasn't a shilling in the world now-and to prevent the possibility of his

ever getting one, he has begun to scribble-commenc'd bookseller, and started a weekly newspaper-they say most authors come to a morsel of bread; and so may he, if he happens to be lucky.

Mrs. H. He's an excellent young man notwithstanding; by-the-by, I wonder he has not called; he surely inust have heard of our arrival at the Cottage-

Stir. The Cottage! there's a precious nickname for a mansion that has cost me fifteen thousand pounds! The Cottage! a place like a labyrinth, that when I am at one end of it, curse me if I don't lose my way before I can get to the other.

Clara. Certainly the name is not very appropriate. Stir. Appropriate! why zounds! you may as well call a palace a pig-sty: my old friends in the city will think I am crazy, when they direct to old Adam Stirling, at the Cottage.

O'Daisy. [Without] There was a bold dragoon.

Stir. Oh, there's that noisy fellow, Rourke O'Daisy.
Enter O'DAISY.

O'Daisy. Eh! I beg pardon of your honour's honour, but there came just now a great big fellow to the lodge gate, and kept tolling the bell, till there was a greater hubbubboo than at a wake in Ballinatrotty.

Stir. An express from town, no doubt. I thought there was something a-foot.

O'Daisy. The devil a yard of him was a-foot-he was outside of a horse.

Mrs. H. Something of consequence.

O'Daisy. Your ladyship may say that thing, and tell no lie neither. He said it was of very great weight, and, by the powers, 1 believe him, or he would not have had a horse to carry it.

Mrs. H. And what is it?

O'Daisy. A letter it is-he told me to deliver it immediately into the hands of the right owner; and that's the reason I came myself, because there should be no blunder.

Stir. Ah, 'tis for old Adam

O'Daisy. Is it? by the powers, then, 'tis the first time I ever knew old Adam was a gentlewoman.

Mrs. H. 'Tis for me, I dare say-come give it me. O'Daisy. Give it you the name's Honeymouth-this must be the honeymouth, for it certainly belongs to the sweetest lady of the two, and therefore you have nothing at all to do with it. [Giving it to Clara] Leave me alone for the service of the ladies-I'm sure to be right there, whether I'm wrong or not. O bless your sweet lips! that's the most gentlemanly young lady I have seen since I left Ballinatrolty. [Exit.

Stir. Augusta Carolina! there's for you-there's the effect of novel reading. Her husband (rest his soul) happened to be called Honeymouth, so that his name now attaches to her like a libel. Honeymouth! her mouth looks a great deal more like the family lemonsqueezer. [Aside. Mrs. H. [Looking at the Letter] From Mr. Jumble, I protest.

Clara. Indeed! from Mr. Jumble!

Stir. So, now I shall be plagued with him. Well, what says he?

Mrs. H. You shall hear. [Reads] Allow me, dearest madam, to congratulate myself on your arrival at the Cottage. I shall take the earliest opportunity of kissing your fair hands, and those of my youthful companion, Clara.

Stir. The devil he will!

Mrs. H. Stay, here's a postscript. [Reads] I have just received from town a new novel, called "The Victorious Lover;" and I hope you will think he has sufficient merit to authorize my introducing him at the Cottage. Delightful!

Stir. Yes, very delightful. I see how 'twill be-this is to be the enchanted castle; Clara an imprisoned damsel; I am to be the cock giant, and you the fiery dragon.

Mrs. H. How!

Stir. D-n his impudence! yes, yes! but when he

and his "Victorious Lover" get footing in this house, he shall be welcome to keep it for his pains.

Mrs. H. I am astonish'd, cousin Stirling-old Mr. Jumble was your most intimate friend.

to me,

Stir. So he was, but that's no reason I should make his son a present of my daughter. Old Jumble hinted that a small estate would fall to his son when he came of age; but when we open'd the will, there was hardly enough to pay for the funeral. But come, I must have a little private conversation with you about young Cypher. I have ask'd him down for a day or two. I never saw him, but I hear he's a quiet steady fellow-none of your novel readers he has ten thousand pounds in his pocket, and yet sticks to business→→→→ that's the boy for old Adam Stirling. Come along, [Exeunt Stirling and Mrs. Honeymouth. Clara. Brought up together from our earliest youth, how cruel of my father thus to separate me from the only man I can ever love as a husband. Love too often withers like a gaudy flower; but when friendship is the soil it springs from, like the constant ivy, it will thrive for ever.

coz.

SONG.-CLARA.

Yes, well I remember how happy the hours

I pass'd with my love in the cool shady bow'rs;
How cheerful, how gaily time flitted away,

Pleasure beam'd on each minute-Hope brighten'd each
Ah! little then thinking that, soon overcast, [day:
Our bopes would be wither'd, our joys would be past.

In this life of uncertainty oft it appears,
Those who smile in the morn, in the evening shed tears;
So fate on the sun of my day cast a frown,

Though in smiles it arose, 'twill in sorrow go down;
For my bosom is chill'd by adversity's blast,
And my hopes are all wither'd, my joys are all past,

But grateful sensations, if friendship can give,
For them, and them only, I still wish to live,

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