Why, why then, will you not tell me all? Why do you endeavour to conceal your name and family? Ame. My duty to my family obliges me to silence. My father's life is forfeited by the sentence of the law; and he owes his existence, at this hour, to flight or secrecy. He may be in England; he may, for aught I know, be in London; and the divulging my name and family might create a fresh search after him, and expose him to new perils. Your conversation, it is true, has inspired me with respect and tenderness; but yet, you are a stranger to me: I have reason to fear every thing, and one word may undo me. Sir Wil. Alas! one word may make us both happy. Tell me; of what age were you when your cruel fortune separated you from your father? Ame. An infant; so young, that I have not the least traces of him in my memory. Sir Wil. And your mother; what became of her? Ame. She, as I have often heard, was carried off by a fever, while she was preparing to embark with me, to follow the fortunes of my father. He, driven almost to despair by this last stroke of ill fortune, continually shifted his place of residence abroad; but, for some years past, whether by his death, the miscarriage of letters, the infidelity of friends, or other accidents, I have not received the least intelligence of him; and now, I almost begin to despair of hearing of him again, though I still persist in my inquiries. Sir Wit. [Rising.] It must be so; it is as I imagined. All these touching circumstances are melancholy witnesses of the truth of it. Yes, my child! I am that unhappy father whom you lost so early; I am that unfortunate husband, whom death, and my unhappy fate, almost at the very same period, divorced from the best of wives; I am-I am sir William Douglas. Ame. Sir William Douglas! have I lived to se my father! then Heaven has heard my prayers; this is the first happy moment of my unfortunate life.-[Embracing.]-And yet, your presence here fills me with apprehensions; I tremble for your safety, for your life; how durst you venture your person in this kingdom? how can you expose yourself to the danger of discovery in this town? My whole soul is in a tumult of fear and joy. Sir Wil. Do not be alarmed, my Amelia; fear nothing; Heaven begins to smile upon my fortune. To find thee so unexpectedly, to find thee with a mind so superior to distress, softens the anguish of my past life, and gives me happy omens of the future. Ame. Oh, sir! by the joy I receive from the embraces of a father, let me conjure you to provide for your safety! do not expose me to the horror of losing you again; of losing you for ever! Quit this town immediately; every mo ment that you remain in it, is at the hazard of your life; I am ready to accompany you to any part of the world. Sir Wil. My dear child! how I grieve that your youth and virtue should be involved in my misfortunes! Yes, we will quit this kingdom; prepare for your departure, and we may leave London this evening. Enter OWEN, hastily. Ha! Owen! thou art come at a happy moment. I have found my daughter. This is your young mistress, the paragon of her sex, my dear, my amiable Amelia. Owen. Oh, sir, this is no time for congratulation. You are in the most imminent danger. Sir Wil. What is the matter? Owen. The officers of government are, at this instant, in the house. I saw them enter; I heard them say they had authority to apprehend some suspected person, and I ran immediately to inform you of your danger. Ame. Oh, Heaven! My father, what will you do? Owen. Do not be alarmed, sir; we are two; we are arned; and we may, perhaps, be able to make our way through them; I will stand by you to the last drop of my blood. Sir Wil. Thou faithful creature! Stay, Owen; our fears may betray us: till we are sure we are attacked, let us shew no signs of opposition. Enter MOLLY, hastily. Mol. My dear mistress! we are ruined; we are undone for ever. Ame. There are officers of justice in the house; I have heard it; tell me, tell me this instant, whom do they seek for? Mol. For you, madam, for you; they have a warrant to apprehend you, they say. Ame. But they have no warrant to apprehend any body else? Mol. No, madam; nobody else; but I will follow you to the end of the world. Ame. My dear Polly, I did not mean you. Retire, sir! [To SIR WILLIAM.] For Heaven's sake, leave me to their mercy! they can have no facts against me; my life has been as innocent as unfortunate, and I must soon be released. Sir Wil. No, my child; I will not leave thee. Mol. My child? This is sir William Douglas, then, as sure as I am alive! Sir Wil. Besides, retiring at such a time might create suspicion, and incur the danger we would wish to avoid. Mol. They will be in the room in a moment; I think I hear them upon the stairs; they would have been here before me, if Mr Freeport had not come in and stopt them. Sir Wil. Courage, my dear Amelia! Ame. Alas, sir! I have no terrors but for you. Mol. Oh, lord! here they are, indeed! I am frighted out of my wits! Enter MRS GOODMAN, FREEPORT, and Officer. Free. A warrant to seize her? a harmless young woman? it is impossible! Offi. Pardon me, sir; if the young lady goes by the name of Amelia Walton, I have a warrant to apprehend her. Free. On what account? Offi. Yes, sir; suspected of disaffection and treasonable practices. Ame. I am the unhappy object of your search, sir; give me leave to know the substance of the accusation. Off. I cannot tell you particulars, madam; but information upon oath has been made against you, and I am ordered to apprehend you. Mrs Good. But you will accept of bail, sir? I will be bound for all I am worth in the world. Offi. In these cases, madam, bail is not usual; and, if ever accepted at all, it is excessively high; and given by persons of very large property, and known character. Free. Well; my property is large enough, and my character very well known. My name is Freeport. Off. I know you very well, sir. Free. I'll answer for her appearance; I'll be bound in a penalty of five hundred pounds, a thousand, two thousand, or what sum you please. Offi. And will you enter into the recognisance immediately? Free. With all my heart; come along! [Going. Offi. And are you in earnest, sir? Free. Ay, to be sure. Why not? Offi. Because, sir, I'll venture to say, there are but few people that place their money on such securities. Free. So much the worse; he, who can employ it in doing good, places it on the best security, and puts it out at the highest interest in the world. [Exit FREEMAN, with the Officer. Sir Wil. I can hardly trust my eyes and ears! who is this benevolent gentleman? Mrs Good. I don't wonder you are surprised at Mr Freeport's manner of proceeding, sir; but it is his way. He is not a man of compliment; but he does the most essential service in less time, than others take in making protestations. Mol. Here he is again! Heaven reward him! Re-enter FREEPORT. Free. So! that matter is dispatched; now to our other affairs! this is a busy day with me.Look'ye, sir William; we must be brief; there is no time to be lost. Sir Wil. How! am I betrayed then! [Offers to draw. Free. [To OwEN.] Nay, never clap thy hand to thy sword, old Trusty! your master is in danger, it is true; but not from me, I promise you. Go, and get him a post-chaise, and let him pack off this instant; that is the best way of shewing your attachment to him at present. Twenty years, sir William, have not made so great an alteration in you, but I knew you the moment I saw you. Mrs Good. Harbour no distrust of Mr Freeport, sir; he is one of the worthiest men living. Ame. I know his worthiness. His behaviour to the officer but this moment, uncommonly generous as it appeared, is not the first testimony he has given me to day, of his noble disposition. Free. Noble! p'shaw! nonsense! Sir Wil. [To FREEPORT.] Sir; the kind manner in which you have been pleased to interest yourself in my affairs, has almost as much overpowered me, as if you had surprised me with hostile proceedings. Which way shall I thank you for your goodness to me and my Amelia? Free. Don't thank me at all; when you are out of danger, perhaps I may make a proposal to you, that will not be disagreeable. At present, think of nothing but your escape; for I should not be surprised, if they were very shortly to make you the same compliment they have paid to Amelia: and, in your case, which is really a serious one, they might not be in the humour to accept of my recognisance. Mrs Good. Mr Freeport is in the right, sir; every moment of delay is hazardous; let us prevail upon you to depart immediately! Amelia, being wholly innocent, cannot be long detained in custody, and as soon as she is released, I will bring her to you, wherever you shall appoint. Free. Ay, ay; you must be gone directly, sir! and as you may want ready money upon the road, take my purse! [Offering his purse. Sir Wil. No, thou truest friend, I have no need of it. With what wonderful goodness have you acted towards me and my unhappy family! Free. Wonderful! why wonderful? Would not you have done the same, if you had been in my place? Sir Wil. I hope I should. Free. Well, then, where is the wonder of it? Come, come, let us see you make ready for your departure! Sir Wil. Thou best of men! Free. Best of men? Heaven forbid! I have done no more than my duty by you. I am a nan myself; and am bound to be a friend to all mankind, you know, [Exeunt. SCENE I.-SPATTER's apartment. ACT IV. LADY ALTON with a letter in her hand, and Lady Alt. Planned like a wise general! Do you then go, and reconnoitre the enemy, while I lie here in ambush to reinforce you as soon as there shall be occasion. Do but give the word, we'll make a vigorous sally, put their whole body to rout, and take Amelia and her father prison[Exeunt severally. Lady Alt. THANKS, my good Spatter ! many thanks for this precious epistle! more precious at present than one of Ovid, Pliny, or Cicero.ers. It is at once a billet-doux and a state paper; and serves at the same time to convict her of conspiring against me, and the public. Spat. It is a valuable manuscript, to be sure, madam; and yet that is but the least half of my discoveries, since I left your ladyship. Lady Alt. But is not this half, according to the Grecian axiom, more than the whole, Mr Spatter? Spat. When you know the whole, I believe you will think not, madam. Lady Alt. Out with it then! I am impatient to be mistress of it. Spat. But what would you say, madam, if I had found out the father himself, too? Lady Alt. Sir William Douglas! Spat. Is now in this house, madam. He arrived this SCENE II-A hall. Enter FREEPORT. Free. I don't know how it is; but this Amelia, here, runs in my head strangely. Ever since I saw her, I think of nothing else. I am not in love with her? In love with her! that's nonsense. But I feel a kind of uneasiness, a sort of pain that I don't know what to make of itI'll speak to her father about her. Enter OWEN. Well, old true-penny! Have you prepared every thing for sir William's departure? Owen. We had need be going, indeed, sir; we are in continual danger while we stay here; who d'ye think lodged the information against Madam Amelia? Free. Who? Owen. A person who lodges in this very house, it seems: one Mr Spatter, sir. Free. Spatter how d'ye know? Owen. I had it from one of the officers, who came to apprehend her, Free. A dog! I could find in my heart to cut off his ears with my own hands, and save him the disgrace of the pillory. Spat. Nothing more certain. morning under a feigned name. ducted to Amelia's apartment. This raised my suspicion, and I planted myself at her door, with all the circumspection of a spy, and address of a chambermaid. There I overheard their mutual acknowledgments of each other; and a curious interview it was. First they wept for grief; and Owen. My poor master is always unfortunate. then they wept for joy; and then they wept for If lord Brumpton had lived a week longer, sir grief again. Their tears, however, were soon in-William might perhaps have been out of the terrupted by the arrival of the officer, whose pur- reach of their malice. pose was partly defeated, as you have already heard, by the intervention of Freeport. Lady Alt. Yes, the brute! But that delay was not half so unfortunate, as your discoveries have been happy, Spatter; for my revenge shall now return on them with redoubled fury.-Issue out upon them once more; see what they are about; and be sure to give me immediate notice, if lord Falbridge should come. [Going. Spat. Stay, madam. After intercepting the letter, I sent for your ladyship, that, at so critical a juncture, you might be present on the spot: and if you go home again, we shall lose time, which perhaps may be precious, in ruming to and fro. Suppose you step into the study, till I return. You will find my own answer to my last pamphlet, and the two first sheets of the next month's Magazine to amuse you. Free. Lord Brumpton? Owen. Yes, sir. He was soliciting my master's pardon; but died before he had accomplished his benevolent intentions. Free. Ha! A thought strikes me! [Apart.]— Hark ye, friend, [To OWEN ] does sir William know the present lord Brumpton? Owen. No, sir. The late lord had no children, or near relations, living; and, indeed, he was the only surviving friend of my poor master in the kingdom. Free. Is the chaise at the door? ment. Free. Run to your master, and desire him not to go till I see him. Tell him I am going out upon his business, and will be back within this hour. Owen. I will let him know immediately. Ah, you're a true friend, indeed, sir. [Shaking him earnestly by the hand. Free. Pooh! prithee! Owen. Ah! Heaven preserve you ! [Exit OWEN. Free. Fare thee well, old honesty! By the death of lord Brumpton, without children or near relations living, as Owen says, the title and estate come to my old friend Jack Brumpton, of Liverpool, who is of a distant branch, a fourth cousin, for aught I know, who has past his whole life in a compting-house; and who, a few years ago, no more dreamt of being a lord, than grand signior, or great mogul. He has so good a heart, that I believe it is impossible even for a title to corrupt it. I know he is in town; so I'll go to him immediately, acquaint him with the obligation entailed on him, to be of service to sir William, and make him heir to the benevolence of his predecessor, as well as his wealth and dignity. [Going, stops.] Who's here? Mrs Goodman and Spatter, as I live! Oh the dog! my blood rises at the villain. If I don't take care, I shall incur an action of battery for caneing the rascal. Enter MRS GOODMAN and SPATTER. Mrs Good. In short, Mr Spatter, I must beg leave to give you warning, and desire that you would provide yourself with another lodging as soon as possible. Spat. What now? What the deuce is the matter with you, Mrs Goodman? Mrs Good. I see now the meaning of lady Alton's recommendation of such a lodger to my house, as well as of her visits to Amelia, and her frequent conferences with you, sir. ses. Spat. The woman is certainly out of her sen Free. What has been laid to your charge is no joke, sir. Spat. What are you there to keep up her backhand, Mr Freeport! What is all this? Free. You are found out to be a spy, sir. Mrs Good. An eaves-dropper! Spat. Right-hand and left! this is too much what the plague is the matter with you both? Free. Look you, sirrah! you are one of those wretches, who miscall themselves authors; a fellow, whose heart, and tongue, and pen, are equally scandalous; who try to insinuate yourself every where, to make mischief, if there is none, and to increase it, if you find any. But if you fetch and carry like a spaniel, you must be treated like one. I have observed that you are always loitering in the passages; but if I catch you within the wind of a door again, I'll beat you till you are as black as your own ink, sirrah.Now, you know my mind. [Exit. Spat. Very civil, and very polite, indeed, Mr Freeport. Ha! here comes my friend, lord Falbridge. Mrs Good. Lord Falbridge your friend? For shame, Mr Spatter ! Enter LORD FALBRIDGE, hastily. Lord Fal. Mrs Goodman, I rejoice to see you. Tell me, how does my Amelia? I have heard of her distress, and flew to her relief.Was she alarmed? Was she terrified? Mrs Good. Not much, my lord: she sustained the shock with the same constancy that she endures every affliction. Lord Fal. I know her merit; I am too well acquainted with her greatness of soul; and hope it is not yet too late for me to do justice to her virtue. Go to her, my dear Mrs Goodman, and tell her, I beg to see her: I have something that concerns her very nearly, to impart to her. Mrs Good. I will my lord. [Erit. Lord Fal. Oh, Mr Spatter ! I did not see you. What have you got there, sir? [Seeing a paper in his hand. Spat. Proposals for a new work, my lord!May I beg the honour of your lordship's name among my list of subscribers? Lord Fal. With all my heart, sir. I am already in your debt on another account. [Pulling out his purse. Spat. To me, my lord? You do me a great deal of honour; I should be very proud to be of the least service to your lordship. Lord Fal. You have been of great service to ine already, sir. It was you, I find, lodged the information against this young lady. Spat. I did no more than my duty, my lord. Lord Fal. Yes; you did me a favour, sir. I consider only the deed, and put the intention quite out of the question. You meant to do Mrs Good. Did not you go and tell that Ame-Amelia a prejudice, and you have done me a lia was a native of Scotland? Spat. Well; and where's the harm of being born in Scotland? Free. None; except by your malicious interpretation, rascal; by means of which, you made it the ground of an information against her, and were the cause of her being apprehended. Spat. And you were the cause of her being released; every man in his way, Mr Freeport! service: for, by endeavouring to bring her into distress, you gave me an opportunity of shewing my eagerness to relieve her. There, sir! there is for the good you have done, while you meant to make mischief. [Giving him a few guineas.] But take this along with it; if you ever presume to mention the name of Amelia any more, or give yourself the least concern about her, or her affairs, I'll [Bowing. Spat. I am obliged to your lordship. Lord Fal. Be gone, sir; leave me. Enter AMELIA. Ame. I understand, my lord, that, by your ap Spat. Your most humble servaut, my lord!—plication, I am held free of the charge laid So! I am abused by every body; and yet I get against me; and that I am once more entirely at money by every body; egad, I believe I am a liberty. I am truly sensible of your good offices, much cleverer fellow than I thought I was! and thank you for the trouble you have taken. [Going. [Exit. Lord Fal. Alas! I am afraid that Amelia will not see me. What would I not suffer to repair the affront that I have offered her? Enter MOLLY. Ha! Polly! how much am I obliged to you for sending me notice of Amelia's distress? Lord Fal. Stay, madam! do not leave me in still greater distraction than you found me. If my zeal to serve you has had any weight with you, it must have inspired you with more favourable dispositions towards me. Ame. You must pardon me, my lord, if I cannot so soon forget a very late transaction. After Mol. Hush, my lord! Speak lower, for Hea-that, all your proceedings alarm me: nay, even ven's sake! My mistress has so often forbade me your present zeal to serve me, creates new suspito tell any thing about her, that I tremble still at cions, while I cannot but be doubtful of the mothe thoughts of the confidence I have put in you.tives from which it proceeds. I was bewitched, I think, to let you know who she was. Lord Fal. You were inspired, Polly! Heaven inspired you to acquaint me with all her distresses, that I might recommend myself to her favour again, by my zeal to serve her, though against her will. Mol. That was the reason I told you; for else, I am sure, I should die with grief to give her the least uneasiness. Lord Fal. But may I hope to see Amelia? Will she let me speak with her? Mol. No, indeed, my lord; she is so offended at your late behaviour, that she will not even suffer us to mention your name to her. Lord Fal. Death and confusion! What a wretch have I made myself! Go, Polly; go and let her know, that I must speak with her; inform her, that I have been active for her welfare; and have authority to release her from the information lodged against her. Mol. I will let her know your anxiety, my lord; but, indeed, I am afraid she will not see you. Lord Fal. She must, Polly; she must. The agonies of my mind are intolerabie. Tell her, she must come, if it be but for a moment; or else, in the bitterness of despair, I fear I shall break into her apartment, and throw myself at her feet. Mol. Lud! you frighten me out of my wits. Have a little patience, and I'll tell my mistress what a taking you are in. Lord Fal. Fly, then! I can taste no comfort, till I hear her resolution. [Exit MOLLY. How culpably have I acted towards the most amiable of her sex! But I will make her every reparation in my power. The warmth and sincerity of my repentance shall extort forgiveness from her. By Heaven, she comes!-Death! how sensibly does an ungenerous action abase us! 1 am conscious of the superiority of her virtue, and almost dread the encounter. Lord Fal. Cruel Amelia! for, guilty as I am, I must complain, since it was your own diffidence that was in part the occasion of my crime. Why did you conceal your rank and condition from me? Why did not you tell me, that you were the daughter of the unhappy sir William Douglas? Ame. Who told you that I was so, my lord? Lord Fal. Nay, do not deny it now it is in vain to attempt to conceal it any longer; it was the main purport of my letter to apprize you of my knowledge of it. Ame. Your letter, my lord! Lord Fal. Yes; wild as it was, it was the offspring of compunction and remorse; and if it conveyed the dictates of my soul, it spoke me the truest of penitents. You did not disdain to read it, sure! Ame. Indeed, my lord, I never received any letter from you. Lord Fal. Not received any! I sent it this very morning. My own servant was the messenger. What can this mean? Has he betrayed me? At present, suffer me to compensate, as far as possible, for the wrongs I have done you: receive my hand and heart, and let an honourable marriage obliterate the very idea of my past conduct. Ame. No, my lord; you have discovered me, it is true I am the daughter of sir Williama Douglas. Judge for yourself, then; and think how I ought to look upon a man, who has insulted my distress, and endeavoured to tempt me to dishonour my family. Lord Fal. Your justice must acquit me of the intention of that offen e, since, at that time, I was ignorant of your illustrious extraction. Ame. It may be so; yet your excuse is but an aggravation of the crime. You imagined me, perhaps, to be of as low and mean an origin, as you thought me poor and unhappy. You suppo sed that I had no title to any dowry but my honour, no dependance but on my virtue; and yet. you attempted to rob me of that virtue, which |