hesitate about an ordinary civility, which is prac-know which, that lodges at Gaffer Hodge's; for tised every day by men and women of the first Sukey says she saw them together last night, in fashion? Sir, let me tell you, however nice you the dark walk, and Mrs. Constantia was all in may be, there is nae a client about the court that tears. wou'd nae jump at sic an opportunity to oblige his patron. Sid. Indeed, sir, I believe the doctrine of pimping for patrons, as well as that of prostituting eloquence and public trust for private lucre, may be learned in your party schools; for where faction and public venality are taught as measures necessary to good government and general prosperity, there every vice is to be expected. Sir P. Oho! oho! vara weel, vara weel; fine slander upon ministers! fine sedition against government! O, ye villain!-You-you-you are a black sheep, and I'll mark you. I am glad you show yourself. Yes, yes; you have taken off the mask at last: you have been in my service for many years, and I never knew your principles before. Sid. Sir, you never affronted them before; if you had, you should have known them sooner. Sir P. It is vara weel; I have done with you. Ay, ay; now I can account for my son's conducthis aversions till courts, till ministers, levees, public business, and his disobedience till my commands. Ah! you are a Judas-a perfidious fellow: you have ruined the morals of my son, you villain ! But I have done with you. However, this I will prophesy at our parting, for your comfort, that guin you are so very squeamish about bringing a lad and a lass together, or about doing sic an harmless innocent job for your patron, you will never rise in the church. Sid. Though my conduct, sir, should not make me rise in her power, I am sure it will in her favour, in the favour of my own conscience, too, and in the esteem of all worthy men; and that, sir, is a power and dignity beyond what patrons, or any minister can bestow. [Exit. Sir P. What a rigorous, saucy, stiff-necked rascal it is! I see my folly now; I am undone by mine ain policy. This Sidney is the last man that should have been about my son. The fellow, indeed, hath given him principles that might have done vara weel among the ancient Romans, but are damn'd unfit for the modern Britons. Well, guin I had a thousand sons, I never wou'd suffer one of these English university-bred fellows to be about a son of mine again; for they have sic an a pride of literature and character, and sic saucy English notions of liberty continually fermenting in their thoughts, that a man is never sure of them. But what am I to do? Zoons! he must nae marry this beggar; I cannot set down tamely under that. Stay-haud a wee. By the blood, I have it! Yes, I have hit upon it. Enter BETTY HINT. Betty. O, sir! I have got the whole secret out. Sir P. About what? Betty. About Miss Constantia. I have just got all the particulars from farmer Hilford's youngest daughter, Sukey Hilford. Sir P. Weel, weel, but what is the story? quick-quick-what is it? Betty. Why, sir, it is certain that Miss Constantia has a sweetheart, or a busband; a sort of a gentleman, or a gentleman's gentleman, they don't Sir P. Zoons, I am afraid this is too guid news to be true. Betty. O! sir, 'tis certainly true.--Besides, sir, she has just writ a letter to her gallant, and I have sent John Gardener to her, who is to carry it to him to Hadley. Now, sir, if your worship would seize it-see, see, sir-here John comes, with the letter in his hand. Sir P. Step you out, Betty, and leave the fellow till me. Betty. I will, sir. [Exit. Enter Jons, with a packet and a letter. John. [Putting the packet into his pocket.] There, library, so I'll e'en go through the short way. go you into my pocket. There's nobody in the Let me see what is the name?-Mel-Meltil-Ŏ, no! Melville, at Gaffer Hodge's. Sir P. What letter is that, sir? Sir P. Give it me, sir. John. An't please you, sir, it is not mine. break your head. John. There, there, your honour. Sir P. Begone, rascal. This, I suppose, will let us intill the whole business. but the packet is safe in my pocket. I'll go and John. [Aside.] You have got the letter, old Surly, deliver that, however, for I will be true to poor Mrs. Constantia in spite of you. [Exit. Sir P. [Reading the letter.] Um-um-" and bless my eyes with the sight of you." Um-um this letter is invaluable. Aha, madam! yes, this -"throw myself into your dear arms."-Zoons, will do—this will do, I think. Let me see how it is directed-" To Mr. Melville." Vary weel Enter BETTY. O, Betty, you are an excellent wench-this letter is worth a million. Betty. Is it as I suspected-to her gallant? Sir P. It is, it is. Bid Constantia pack out of the house this instant, and let them get a chaise ready to carry her wherever she pleases. But first send my wife and son hither. Betty. I shall, sir. Sir P. Do so; begone. [Exit BETTY.] Aha, Maister Charles. I believe I sha'l cure you of your passion for a beggar now. I think be cannot be so infatuated as to be a dupe. Let me see, how am I to act now? Why, like a true politician, I must pretend most sincerity where I intend most deceit. Enter EGERTON and Lady MacsYcOPHANT. Weel, Charles, notwithstanding the misery you have brought upon me, I have sent for you and your mother, in order to convince you both of my affection and my readiness to forgive, nay, and even to indulge your perverse passion. Sir, since I find this Constantia has got hold of your heart, and that your mother and you think that you can never be happy without her, why, I'll nae longer oppose your inclinations. Eger. Dear sir, you snatch me from the sharp est misery; on my knees, let my heart thank you for this goodness. Lady M. Let me express my thanks too, and my joy; for had you not consented to his marrying her, we all should have been miserable. Eger. Pray, sir, be patient; compose yourself a moment: I will make you any compensation in my Sir P. Then instantly sign the articles of marriage. power. Sir P. Weel, I am glad I have found a way to please you both at last. But, my dear Charles, suppose, now, that this spotless vestal-this wonder Eger. The lady, sir, has never yet been conof virtue-this idol of your heart, should be a con- sulted; and I have some reason to believe that her cealed wanton after aw? or should have an en-heart is engaged to another man. gagement of marriage, or an intrigue with another man, and is only making a dupe of you aw this time-I say, only suppose it, Charles--what would you think of her? Eger. I should think her the most deceitful, and most subtle of her sex: and, if possible, would never think of her again. Sir P. Will you give me your honour of that? Sir P. Enough; I am satisfied. You make me young again. Your prudence has brought tears of joy fra my very vitals. I was afraid you were fascinated with the charms of a crack. Do you ken this hand? Eger. Mighty well, sir. Sir P. And you, madam? Lady M. As well as I do my own, sir: it is Constantia's. Sir P. It is so; and a better evidence it is than any that can be given by the human tongue. Here is a warm, rapturous, lascivious letter, under the hypocritical syren's ain hand-her ain hand, sir. Ay, ay; here-take and read it yourself. Eger. [Reads.] "1 have only time to tell you, that the family have come down sooner than I expected, and that I cannot bless my eyes with the sight of you till the evening. The notes and jewels, which the bearer of this will deliver to you, were presented to me since I saw you, by the son of my benefactor." Sir P. [Interrupting.] Now mark. Sir P. Sir, that's nae business of yours. I know she will consent, and that's aw we are to consider. O, here comes my lord. Enter Lord Lumbercourt. Lord L. Sir Pertinax, everything is ready, and the lawyers wait for us. Sir P. We attend your lordship. Where is Lady Rodolpha? Lord L. Giving some female consolation to poor Constantia. Why, my lady-ha, ha, ha!—I hear your vestal has been flirting. Sir P. Yes, yes, my lord; she's in vary guid order for any man that wants a wife and an heir till bis estate intill the bargain. Enter TOMLINS. Tom. Sir, there is a man below that wants to speak to your honour upon particular business. Sir P. I cannot speak till anybody now-he must come another time :-haud-stay-what, is he a gentleman? Tom. He looks something like one, sir-a sort of a gentleman-but he seems to be in a kind of a passion; for when I asked his name, he answered hastily-It is no matter, friend; go tell your master there is a gentleman here that must speak to him directly. Sir P. Must? ha!-vary peremptory indeed :Eger. [Reads.] All which I beg you will con- pr'ythee, let us see him, for curiosity's sake. 66 vert to your immediate use." Sir P. Mark, I say. Eger. [Reads.] "For my heart has no room for any wish or fortune, but what contributes to your relief and happiness." Sir P. Oh, Charles, Charles! do you see, sir, what a dupe she makes of you? But mark what follows. Sir P. In the dark walk-in the dark walkah, an evil-eyed curse upon her! Yes, yes, she has been often in the dark walk, I believe. But read on. Eger. [Reads.] "In the mean time, banish all fears, and hope the best from fortune, and your ever dutiful "CONSTANTIA HARRINGTON." Sir P. There-there's a warm epistle for you:in short, the hussy, you must know, is married till the fellow. Enter Lady RODOLPHA. [Exit. Lady R. O! my Lady Macsycophant, I am come an humble advocate for a weeping piece of female frailty, wha begs she may be permitted to speak till your ladyship, before you finally reprobate her. Sir P. I beg your pardon, Lady Rodolpha, but it must not be; see her she shall not. in hearing what she has to say for herself. to prove my service-rags and scars. In my heart for ten long years, in India's parching clime, I bore my country's cause, and in noblest dangers sustained it with my sword; at length, ungrateful peace has laid me down where welcome war first took me up-in poverty, and the dread of cruel creditors. Paternal affection brought me to my native land, in quest of an only child: I found her, as I thought, amiable as parental fondness could desire; but foul seduction has snatched her from me, and hither am I come, fraught with a father's anger, and a soldier's honour, to seek the seducer, and glut revenge. Lady M. Pray, sir, who is your daughter? Mel. I blush to own her-but-Constantia. Eger. Is Constantia your daughter, sir? Mel. She is; and was the only comfort that nature, fortune, or my own extravagance had left Eger. Of my seduction. Mel. Of yours, sir, if your name be Egerton. Eger. I am that man, sir; but pray what is your evidence? Mel. These bills, and these gorgeous jewels, not to be had in her menial state, but at the price of chastity! Not an hour since she sent them, imprudently sent them, by a servant of this house: contagious infamy started from their touch. Eger. Sir, do you but clear her conduct with Melville, and I will instantly satisfy your fears concerning the jewels and her virtue. Mel. Sir, you give me new life; you are my better angel, I believe in your words-your looks. Know, then, I am that Melville. Sir P. How, sir, you that Melville that was at farmer Hodge's? Mel. The same, sir; it was he brought my Constantia to my arms; lodged and secreted me-once my lowly tenant, now my only friend. The fear of inexorable creditors made me change my name from Harrington to Melville, till I could see and consult some who once called themselves my friends. Mel. It is very true, sir; but it is an observation among soldiers, that there are some men who never meet with anything in the service but blows and ill-fortune. I was one of those, even to a proverb. Sir P. Ah! 'tis pity, sir, a great pity, now, that you did nae get a mogul, or some sic an animal, intill your clutches. Ah! I should like to have the strangling of a nabob, the rummaging of his gold dust, his jewel-closet, and aw his magazines of bars and ingots. Ha, ha, ha! guid traith, naw, sic an a fellow would be a bonny cheeld to bring till this town, and to exhibit him riding on an elephant; upon honour, a man might raise a polltax by him, that would gang near to pay the debts of the nation. [Retires back. Enter EGERTON, CONSTANTIA, Lady MACSYCOPHANT, and SIDNEY. Eger. Sir, I promised to satisfy your fears concerning your daughter's virtue; and my best proof is, that I have made her the partner of my heart, and the tender guardian of my earthly happiness for life. Sir P. [Rushes forward.] How! married! Eger. I know, sir, at present, we shall meet your anger; but time, reflection, and our dutiful conduct, we hope, will reconcile you to our happiness. Sir P. Never, never; and, could I make you, her, and aw your issue beggars, I would move hell, heaven, and earth, to do it. Lord L. Why, Sir Pertinax, this is a total revolution, and will entirely ruin my affairs. Sir P. My lord, with the consent of your lord. ship and Lady Rodolpha, I have an expedient to offer, that will not only punish that rebellious villain, but answer every end that your lordship and the lady proposed by the intended match with him. Lord L. I doubt it much, Sir Pertinax-I doubt it much. But, what is it sir? What is your expediteur? Sir P. My lord, I have another son, Sandy-Eh, he's a guid lad-and, provided the lady and your lordship have nae objection till him, every article of that rebel's intended marriage shall be amply fulfilled upon Lady Rodolpha's union with my younger son. Lord L. Why, that is an expedient, indeed, Sir Pertinax. But what say you, Rodolpha? Lady R. Nay, nay, my lord, as I ha nae reason to have the least affection till my cousin Egerton, and as my intended marriage with him was entirely an act of obedience till my grandmother, provided my cousin Sandy will be as agreeable till her ladyship as my cousin Charles here would have been, have nae the least objection till the change. Ay, Eger. Sir, suspend your fears and anger but foray; one brother is as good to Rodolpha as ana few minutes; I will keep my word with you religiously, and bring your Constantia to your arms, as virtuous and as happy as you could wish her. [Exit with Lady MACSYCOPHANT. Sir P. The clearing up of this wench's virtue is damned unlucky; I am afraid it will ruin aw our affairs again; however, I have one stroke still in my head that will secure the bargain with my lord, let matters gang as they will.-[Aside.]—But I wonder, maister Melville, that you did nae pick up some little matter of siller in the Indies. Ah! there have been bonny fortunes snapt up there, of late years, by some of the military blades. other. Sir P. I'll answer, madam, for your grandmother. Now, my lord, what say you? Lord L. Nay, Sir Pertinax, so the agreement stands, all is right again. Come, child, let us begone. Ay, ay; so my affairs are made easy, it is equal to me whom she marries. I say, Sir Pertinax, let them be but easy, and rat me if I care if she incorporates with the cham of Tartary. [Exit. Sir P. As to you, my Lady Macsycophant, I suppose you concluded, before you gave your consent till this match, that there would be an end of aw intercourse betwixt you and me. You shall Lave a jointure; but not a buwbee besides, living Mel. These precarious turns of fortune, sir, will or dead, shall you, or any of your issue, ever see press upon the heart; for, notwithstanding my of mine: and so, madam, live with your Constan- Constantia's happiness, and mine in her's, I own I tia, with your son, and with that damned black cannot help feeling some regret, that my misforsheep there. [Exit. tunes should be the cause of any disagreement beLady R. Weel, cousin Egerton, in spite of the tween a father and the man to whom I am under ambitious frenzy of your father, and the thought- the most endearing obligations. less dissipation of mine, Don Cupid has at last carried his point in favour of his devotees. But I must now take my leave; and so, guid folks, 1 will leave you with the fag end of an auld northcountry wish: "May mutual love and guid humour be the guest of your hearts, the theme of your tongues, and the blithsome subjects of aw your tricksey dreams through the rugged road of this deceitful world; and may our fathers be an example till ourselves, to treat our bairns better than they have treated us." Eger. You seem melancholy, sir. [ Eaií. Eger. You have no share in his disagreement. if affluence can procure content and ease, they are within our reach. My fortune is ample, and shall be dedicated to the happiness of this domonio circle. "My scheme, though nock'd by kave, coquette. To thinking minds will prove this golden rule: Not wealth, but morals make the happy life' DOUGLAS. A TRAGIC PLAY. BY JOHN HOME DRAMATIS PERSONA. Lord RANDOLPH. Young NORVAL. First Officer. Second Officer. Lady RANDOLPH. Officers, Servants &c. ACT I. SCENE I.-The Court of a Castie, su~ounded with Woods. Enter Lady RANDOLPH. Lady R. Ye woods and wilds, whose melancholy gloom Accords with my soul's sadness, and draws forth Buried, my Douglas, in thy bloody grave. Enter Lord RANDOLPH. Lord R. Again these weeds of woe' Say, dcst thou well To feed a passion which consumes thy life? Lady R. Silent, alas! is he, for whom I mourn: Lord R. Time, that wears out the trace of deep. est anguish, Has pass'd o'er thee in vain. Sure thou art not the daughter of Sir Malcolm-- Lord R. Thy grief wrests to its purposes my words. I never ask'd of thee that ardent love. Lady R. Thou dost not think so: woful as I am, Lord R. Straight to the camp, Where every warrior on tip-toe stands Of expectation, and impatient asks Each who arrives, if he is come to tell, The Danes are landed. Lady R. Oh, may adverse winds Far from the coast of Scotland drive their fleet! Lord R. Thou speak'st a woman's, hear a warrior's wish: Right from their native land, the stormy north, Then shall our foes repent their bold invasion, |