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la thee each grace possessing,

Enter Giles.
All must my choice approve.

Giles. Ods bobs, where am I running-I Pat. To you my all is owing; beg pardon for my audacity. 0! take a heart o’erflowing

Ralph. Hip, farmer; come back, mon, come With zratitude and love. back-Sure my lord's going to marry sister Lord A. Thus infolding,

himself, seyther's to have a fine house, and Thus beholding,

I'm to be a captain. Both. One to my soul so dear;

Lord A. Ho, master Giles, pray walk in ; Can there be pleasure greater? here is a lady who, I dare say, will be glad Can there be bliss completer? to see you, and give orders that you shall 'Tis too much to bear.

always be made welcome, Enter Sir Harry, Lady Sycamore, Theo- come in the kitchen.

Ralph. Yes, farmer, you'll always be welDOSIA, and Mervin.

Lord A. What, have you nothing to say Sir H. Well, we have followed your lord- to your old acquaintance--Come, pray, let the ship's counsel, and made the besi of a bad farmer salute you-Nay, a kiss—I insist upmarket-So, my lord, please to know our on it. son-in-law that is to be.

Sir H. Ha, ha, ha-hem! Lord A. You do me a great deal of honour Lady S. Sir Harry, I am ready to sink at -I wish you joy, sir, with all my heart.- And the monstrousness of your behaviour. now, sir Ilarry, give ine leave to introduce Lord A. Fic, master Giles, don't look so to you a new relation of mine—This, sir, is sheepish; you and I were rivals, but not less shortly to be my wife.

friends at present. You have acted in this Sir H. My lord !

affair like an honest Englishman, wo scorned Lady S. Your lordship's wife!

even the shadow of dishonour, and thou shalt Lord A. Yes, madam.

sit rent-free for a twelvemonth. Lady S. And why so, my lord ?

Sir H. Come, shan't we all salute-WishLord A. Why, faith, ma'am, because I can't your leave, my lord, I'll — live happy without her-And I think she has Lady S. Sir Harry! too many amiable, too many estimable qualities to meet with a worse fate.

Lord A. Yield who will to forms a martyr, Sir H. Well, but you are a peer of the

While unaw'd by idle shame, realm; you will have all the fleerers

Pride for happiness I barter, Lord A. I know very well the ridicule that

Hecdless of the millions' blame. may be thrown on a lord's marrying a mill-i Thus with love my arms I quarter; er's daughter; and I own with blushes it has

Women grac'd' in nature's frame, for some time had too great weight with me:

Ev'ry privilege, by charter, but we should marry to please ourselves, not

Have a right from man to claim. other people; and, on mature consideration, Theo. Eas'd of doubts and fears presaging, I can see no reproach justly merited by rais

What new joys within me rise ; ing a deserving woman to a station she is While mamma, her frowns assuaging, capable of adorning, let her birth be what

Dares no longer tyrannise. it will.

So long storms and tempests raging, Sir H. Why 'tis very true, my lord. I once When the blust'ring fury dies, knew a gentleman that marriod liis cook-maid:

Ah, bow lovely, how engaging, he was a relation of my own—You remember

Prospects fair, and cloudless skies! fat Margery, my lady. She was a very good Sir H. Dad, but this is wondrous pretty, sort of woman, indeed she was, and made

Singing each a roundelay; the best suet dumplings I ever tasted.

And i'll mingle in the ditly, Lady S. Will you never learn, sir Harry,

Though I scarce know what to say. to guard your expressions?-Well, but give

There's a daughter brisk and willy; me leave, my lord, to say a word to you:

Here's a wile can wisely sway: There are other ill consequences attending

Trust me, masters, 'twere a pily, such an alliance.

Not to let them have their way. Lord A. One of them I suppose is, that I, Pal. My example is a rare one; a, peer, should be obliged to call this good But the cause may be divin'd: old miller father-in-law. But where's the shame

Women want not merit—dare one in that? He is as good as any lord in being Hope discerning men to find. a man; and if we dare suppose a lord that

0! may each accomplish'd fair one, is not an honest man, he is, in my opinion,

Brighi in person, sage in mind, the more respectable character. Come, master Viewing my good fortune, share one Fairfield, give me your hand; from hence

Full as splendid, and as kind. forth you have done with working: we will Ralph. Captain Ralph my lord will dub mc, pull down your mill, and build you a house Soon I'll mount a huge cockade; in the place of it; and the money I intended Mounseer shall powder, queue, and for the portion of your daughter, shall now be laid out io purchasing a commission for

'Gad, I'll be a roaring blade, your son.

If Fan shall offer once to snub me, Ralph. What, my lord, will you make me

Wben in scarlet all array'd; a captain ?

Or my feather dare to drub me, Lord A, Ay, a colonel, if you deserve it.

Frown your worsl-but who's afraid? Ralph. Then I'll keep Fan.

Giles. Laugb'd' at, slighted, circumvented,

'club me,

And expos'd for folks to see't,

Since the fates have thought them meet;
Tis as tho'f a man repented

This good company contented,
For his follies in a sheet.

All my wishes are complete.
But my wrongs go unresented,



Is the son of the author of The Clandestine Marriage. With the precise time of his birth we are unacquainted; bat we suppose it to have been about the year 1767. He received his early education at Mr. Fountain's academy in Marybone, at that time in high 'estimation. He was next sent to Westminster School, and afterwards entered at Christchera College, Oxford ; but, for what reason we know nol, he finished his education at King's College, Old Aberdeen ; wheree he relirned 10 London, and was cntcred of the Temple; with the design, it is said, to qualify him for the bar. Das if so, he early in life resigned Coke and Lilleton in favour of the Muses. The consciousness of literary Talents, 13 an easy access to the public through the medium of his father's theatre, naturally directed his attention to the drama; and his parent scemed to fester his genius; as be, in the prologue to the first play of bis son's, announced him u “ chip of the old block.” When his father was scized with thal malady which rendered him incapable of superintending the theatre, Mr. Colman evinced a most commendable filial alecrion, by the greai altention that he paid to bio and to the interests of bis theatre. On the death of his father, His Majesty was pleased to transfer the palent to his; and he has discharged the duties of manager with zeal and alacrily lowards the public, and liberaliig towards anthera end actors. In private life Mr. Colman is social, convivial, and intelligent; and in the playful contentions of wit ad humour, and particularly that agreeable coruscation called repariee, he may perhaps be equalled, but, we think, bas rarely been excelled. !n bis hernic pieces, we observe a poetical vigour, a form of language, and a cast of sentimeel that Pureibly remind us of the very best of our ancient dramatic writers. In the spring of the year 1797, Mr. Cosa published My Nightgown and Slippers, a thin quarto, consisting of some amusing poetical trities. In prologue si epilogue, we cannot better compare Mr. Colman with any one than with the late Mr. Garrick. His composilices in this way are very abundant, and excellent in their kind.


Opera by George Colman jun. 1787. The great success of this Opera in every thcatre in the Kingdom, since its best representation at the Haymarket, is justified hy ils real merit. The dialogue is not a collection of trile common pisces to connect the music;, but is replete with taste, judgment, and manly feeling; the allusions to slavery (ouw sv Debly abolished) correspond with every Britislı, every liberal, mind. The mal--propos oller of Inkle to sell his York Sir Christopher, is an admirable incident; and indeed all the characters are as forcibly drawn, that the most trifting ser: is elieclive. — The pathetic story of Inkle and Yarico first attracted sympathy, from the narrative of Mr. Addirne, 5 the Spectator : to that afl'ecling story, Mr. Colman was indebted only for the cold, calculating Inkle; and whe goste affectionale Yarico;-the rest of the characters and the dovelopement of the whole are offspring of his abandant iavedLA,







SCENE.--First, on the Main of America: afterwards, in Barbadoes.

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to bring all the natives about us; and we shal SCENE I.-An American forest.

be stripped and plundered in a minute.

Trudge. Aye; stripping is the first ibisk Med. [Without] Hilli ho! ho!

that would happen to us; for they seen to be Trudge. [Without] Hip! hollo! ho!-Hip!- woefully off for a wardrobe. I myself s26

three, at a distance, with less clothes than 1 Enter Medium and TRUDGE.

have when I get out of bed: all dancing about Med. Psbaw! it's only wasting time and in black buff; just like Adam in mourning. breath. Bawling won't persuade him to budge Med. This is to have to do with a scbemer! a bit faster. Things are all altered now; and, a fellow who risques his life, for a chance of whatever weight it may have in some places, advancing, bis interest.-Always advantage ia bawling, it seems, don't go for argument, here. view! trying, here, to make discoveries that Plague on't! we are now in the wilds of may promote his profit in England. Another America.

Botany Bay scheme, mayhap. Nothing else Trudge. Hip, hillio-ho-hi!

could ’induce him to quit our foraging party. Med. Hold your tongue, you blockhead, or from the ship; when be knows every inhair

Trudge. Lord! sir, if my master makes no tant here is not only, as black as a peppermore basle, we shall all be put to sword by corn, but as hot into the bargain-and I like the knives of the natives. I'm told they take a fool, to follow bim! and then to lei bis off heads like hals, and hang 'em on pegs in loiter behind. Why, nephew! why, lokle! their parlours. Mercy on us! my head aches

(Calin with the very thoughts of it. Holo! Mr. Inkle! Trudge. Why, Inkle-Well! only to see masier; bolo!

the difference of men! he'd have thought it Med. Head aches! zounds, so does mine very hard, now, if I had let him call so often with your confounded bawling. It's enough after me. Ab! I wish he was calling after

me now, in the old jog-trot way, again., expensive plan for a trader, truly. What, What a fool was I, to leave London for would you have a man of business come oreign parts!—That ever I should leave Thread-abroad, scamper extravagantly bere and there needle-street, to thread an American forest, and every where, then return home, and bave where a man's as soon lost as a needle in a nothing to tell, but that he has been here and boitle of hay!

there and every where? 'sdeath, sir, would Med. Palience, Trudge! patience! If we you bave me travel like a lord? Travelling, once recover the ship

uncle, was always intended for improvement; Trudge. Lord, sir, I shall never recover and improvement is an advantage; and adwhat I have lost in coming abroad. When vantage is profit, and profit is gain. Which, my master and I were in London, I had such in the travelling translation of a trader, means, a mortal snug birth of it! why, I was factotum. that you should gain every advantage of imMed. Factotum to a young merchant is no proving, your profit

. I have been comparing such sinecure, neither.

the land, here, with that of our own country. Trudge. But then the honour of it. Think Med. And you find it like a good deal of of that, sir; to be clerk as well as own man. the land of our own country - cursedly enOnly consider. You find very few city clerks cumbered with black legs ?), I take it. made out of a man "), now-a-days.' To be Inkle. And calculating how much it might king, of the counting-house, as well as lord be made to produce by the acre. of the bed-chamber. Ah! if I had bim but Med. You were? now in the little dressing room behind the Inkle. Yes; I was proceeding algebraically office; tying his hair, with a bit of red tape, upon the subject. as usual.

Med, Indeed! Med. Yes, or writing, an invoice with lamp- Inkle. And just about extracting the square black, and shining his shoes with an ink-bottle, root. as usual, you blundering blockhead!

Med. Hum! Trudge. Oh! if I was but brushing the ac

Inkle. I was thinking too, if so many nacounts, or casting up the coats! mercy on us! lives could be caught, how much they might what's that?

fetch at the West Indian markets. Med. That! what?

Med. Now let me ask you a question, or Trudge. Did'nt you hear a noise ? two, young cannibal catcher, if you please.

Med. Y-es-but- hush! Oh, heavens be Inkle. Well, praised! here he is at last.

Med. Aren't we bound for Barbadocs; partly

to trade, but chiefly to carry home the daughter Enter INKLE.

of the governor, Sir Christopher Curry, who Now, nephew?

bas till now been under your father's care, Inkle. So, Mr. Medium.

in Tbreadneedle-street, for polite English eduMed. Zounds, one would think, by your cation? confounded composure, that you were walking Inkle. Granted. in St. James's Park, instead of an American Med. And isn't it determined, between the Forest; and that all the beasts were nothing old folks, that you are to marry Narcissa as but good company. The bollow trees, here, soon as we get there? centry boxes, and the lions in 'em soldiers; Inkle. A fixed thing, the jackalls, courtiers; the crocodiles, fine Med. Then what the devil do you do here, women; and the baboons, beaus. What the hunting old hairy negroes, when you ought plague made you loiter so long?

to be ogling a fine girl in the ship? Algebra, Inkle. Reflection.

too! you'll have other things to think of when Med, So I should think; reflection generally you are inarried, I promise you. A plodding comes lagging behind. What, scheming, 1 fellow's head, in the hands of a young wife, suppose; never qniet. At it again, eb: what like a boy's slate after school, soon gets all

happy trader is your father, to have so pru- its arithmetic wiped off: and then it appears lent a son for a partner! why, you are the in its true simple stale; dark, empty, and carefullest Co. in the whole city. Never losing bound in wood, Master Inkle. light of the main chance; and that's the rea- Inkle. Not in a match of this kind. Why, jon, perhaps, you lost sight of us, here, on it's a table of interest from beginning to end, he main of America.

old Medium. Inkle. Right, Mr. Medium, Arithmetic, I Med, Well, well, this is no time to talk. wn, has been the means of our parting at Who knows but, instead of sailing to a wędresent.

ding, we may, get cut up, here, for a wedding Trudge. Ha! a sum in division, I reckon. dinner: tossed up for a dingy duke perhaps,

[Aside. or stewed down for a black baronet, or eat Med. And pray, if I

may be so bold, what raw by an inky commoner? nighty scheme has just tempted you to em- Inkle. Why, sure, you aren't afraid ? loy your head, when you ought to make Med. Who, I afraid ! ha! ha! ha! no, not se of your heels?

I! what the deuce should I be afraid of? thank Inkle. My heels! here's pretty doctrine! do heaven, I have a clear conscience, and need ou think I travel merely for motion? a fine not be afraid of any thing. A scoundrel might 1) Double entendre. The second meaning, generally given

not be quite so easy on such an occasion; by the actor with an arch look at the upper-boxes, but it's the part of an honest man not to bethe place of resort of the London clerks at the The-have like a scoundrel: I never bebaved like a atres, is, that there are very few clerks really men now-a-days, they being rather dandyish and effemi- 1) Black legs, (slang) for Gamesters; and the blacks, or

negroes, havo, of course, black legs.

nate in their dress,


scoundrel--for which reason I am an honest|And the Eagle, I warrant you, looks like a man, you know. But come-I hate to boast

goose, of my good qualities. Inkle. Slow and sure, my good, virtuous,

But we merchant lads, tho' the foe we can't

maul, Mr. Medium! our companions can be but half

Nor are paid, like fine king-ships, to fight al a mile before us: and, if we do but double

a call, their steps, we shall overtake 'em at one mile's end, by all the powers of arithmetic.

Why we pay ourselves well, without fighting

at all. Med. Oh, curse your arithmetic! "how are we to find our way?

1st Sail. Avast! look a-head there. flere Inkle. That, uncle, must be left to the doc- they come, chased by a fleet of black devils, trine of chances.

[E.reunt. Midsh. And the devil a fire bave I to give SCENE II.- Another part of the Forest. A

'em. We ban't a grain of powder left. What

must we do, lad? ship at anchor in the bay, at a small

2nd Sail. Do? sbeer off, to be sure. distance. Enter Sailors and Mate, as returning from spike!

Al. Come, bear a hand, Master Marlisforaging.

Midsh. [Reluctantly] Well, if I must, Mate. Come, come, bear a band ?), my must [Going to the other side and halloing lads. Tho's the bay is just under our bow-to Inkle, cii.] Yoho, lubbers! crowd all the sprits, il will take a damned deal of tripping sail you can, d'ye mind me!

[E.. to come at it-there's hardly any steering clear of the rocks here. But do we muster all Enter Medium, running, as pursued by hands? all right, think ye?

the Blacks. 1st Sail. All to a besides yourself, Med. Nephew! Trudge! run - scamper! and a monkey-the three land lubbers 2), that scour-fly! zounds, what harm did I ever do, edged away in the morning, goes for nothing, to be hunted to death by a pack of bloodyou know-they're all dead may-hap, by this. hounds? why, nephew! Ob, confound your

Mate. Dead! you be-why, they're friends long sums in arithmetic! I'll take care of myof the captain; and, if not brought safe aboard self; and if we must have any arithmetic, dot to-night, you may all chance to have a salt and carry one for my money. [Runs off eel for your supper— that's all. Moreover, the young plodding spark, he with the grave,

Enter Inkle und TRUDGE, hasily. foul-weather face, there, is to man the tight Trudge. Oh! that ever I was born, to leare little frigate, Miss Narcissa, what d'ye call her, pen, ink, and powder, for this! that is bound with us for Barbadoes. Rot'em Inkle. Trudge, how far are the sailors befor not keeping under way, I say! but come, fore us? let's see if a song will bring 'em to. Let's Trudge. I'll run and see, sir, directly. have a full chorus to the good merchant ship, Inkle. Blockhead, come bere. The sarages the Achilles, that's wrote by our Captain. are close upon us; we shall scarce be able to The Achilles, though christen’d, good ship, trees with me; they'll pass us, and we may

our party. Get behind this tuft of 'tis surmis'd, From that old man of war, great Achilles, so

then recover our ship with safety. prizd,

Trudge. [Going behind] Oh! s'hreadneedleWas he, like our vessel, pray, fairly baptiz'd?

street, Tbread!

Inkle. Peace.
Ti tol lol, etc.

Trudge. [Hiding] needle-street. Poets sung that Achilles — if, now, they've an [They hide behind trees. Natives crass. itch

After a long pause, Inkle looks To sing tbis, future ages may know which is from the trees. which;

Inkle. Trudge. And that one rode in Greece—and the other Trudge. Sir.

[In a whisper. in pitch,

Inkie. Are they all gone by? What tho' but a merchant ship — sure our

Trudge. Won't you look and see? supplies:

Inkle. [Looking round] So, all's safe at Now your men of war's gain in a lottery lies, last. [Coming forward] Nothing like policy And how blank they all look, when they can't in these cases; but you'd bave run on, like i get a prize!

hooby! A tree, I fancy, you'll find, in future, the best resource in a hot pursuit

. What are all their fine names? when na rhino's behind,

Trudge. Oh, charming! It's a retreat for a

king '), sir. Mr. Medium, however, has not The Intrepid, and Lion, look sheepish, you'll

got up in it; your uncle, sir, has run on like Wbilst, alas! the poor Aeolus can't raise the this time, I take il; who are now most likely

a booby; and has got up with our party br wind!

at the shore. But what are we to do nest, sir? Then the Thunderer's dumb; out of tune the Inkle. Reconnoitre a little, and then proceed.

The Cercs has nothing at all to produce;

Trudge. Then pray, sir, proceed to recosnoitre; for, the sooner the betler.

Inkle. Then look out, d'ye hear, and te! 1) Make'haste.

me if you discover any danger. 2) The clegant denomination given by sailors to persons not belonging to the sea, in shew their superlative

Trudge. Y-ye-s-yes; but-Trembling contempt for every thing on dry land.

1) Charles ad. hid himself in a trer.



Inkle. Well, is the coast clear?

This cavern may prove a safe retreat to us Trudge. Eh! Oh lord!—Clear? [Rubbing for the present. I'll enter, cost what it will. his eyes] Oh dear! oh dear! the coast will Trudge. Oh Lord! no, don't, don't - We soon be clear enough now, I promise you— shall pay too dear for our lodging, depend on't. The ship is under sail, sir!

Inkle. This is no time for debating. You Inkle. Confusion! my property carrieal off are at the mouth of it: lead the way, Trudge. in the vessel.

Trudge. What! go in before your honour! Trudge. All, all, sir, except me.

I know my place better, I assure you-I might Inkle. They may report me dead, perhaps; walk into more mouths than one, perhaps. and dispose of my property at the next island.

[ Aside. [Vessel under sail. Inkle. Coward! then follow me. [Noise again. Trudge. Ah! there they go. [4 gun fired] Trudge. I must, sir; I must! Ah Trudge, That will be the last report) we shall ever Trudge! what a damned bole are you getting hear from 'em, I'm afraid. That's as much into!

[Ereunt. as to say, good by to ye. And here we are

SCENE III. A cave, decorated with skins left-two fine, full-grown babes in the wood! Inkle. What an i!l-timed accident! just too,

of wild beasts, feathers, etc. a rude kind

of curtain, as door to an inner part. when my speedy union with Narcissa, at Barbadoes, would so much advance my interests. Enter Inkle and Trudge, from mouth of Something must be hit upon, and speedily;

the cavern. but what resource?

[Thinking: Trudge. Why, sir! you must be inad to Trudge. The old one-a tree, sir — 'tis all go any farther. we have for it now. What would I give, Inkle. So far, at least, we have proceeded now, to be perched upon a high stool, with with safety. Ha! no bad specimen of savage our browo desk squeezed into the pit of my elegance. These ornaments would be worth stomach-scribbling away an old parchment! – something in England. We have little to fear But all my red ink will be spilt by an old here, I hope: this cave rather bears the pleasing black pin of a negro.

face of a profitable adventure. A voyage over seas had not enter'd


Trudge. Very likely, sir; but, for a pleasing

head, Had I known but on which side to buiter my face, it has the cursed'st ugly mouth I ever bread.

saw in my life. Now do, sir, make off as Heigbo! sure I-for hunger must die ! fast as you can. If we once get clear of the I've sail'd, like a' booby; come here in a squall, natives' houses, we have little to fear from Where, alas! there's no bread to be butter'd the lions and leopards; for, by the appearance

of their parlours, they seem to have killed all Oho! I'm a terrible booby!

the wild beasts in ihe country. Now pray, Oh, what a sad booby am 1!

do, my good master, take my advice, and run In London, what gay chop-house signs in the away;

Inkle. Rascal! Talk again of going out, and street!

I'll flea you alive. But the only sign bere, is of nothing to eat.

Trudge. That's just what I expect for coming Heigho! thai I-- for hunger should die! My mutton's all lost; I'm a poor starving elf; their skin stript over their cars; and ours will

in. — All that enter bere appear to bave had And for all the world like a lost multon myself. be kept for curiosities-We shall stand here,

Obo! I shall die a lost mutlon!
Oh! wbat a lost mullon am I!

stuffed, for a couple of while wonders.

Inkle. This curiain seems to lead to another For a neat slice of beef, I could roar like a bull; apartment: I'll draw it. And my stomach's so empty,

Trudge. No, no, no, don't; don't. We may quite full.

be called to account for disturbing the comHeigho! that I- for hunger should die!

pany: you may get a curtain lecture, perhaps, But, grave without me:it, I must here meetsir. iny grave,

Inkle. Peace, booby, and stand on your for my bacon, I fancy, I never shall save.

guard. Oho! I shall ne'er save my bacon! Trudge. Oh! what will become of us! some I can't save my bacon, nof I!

grim seven-foot fellow ready to scalp us. Trudge. Hum! I was thinking — I was Inkle. By heaven! a woman! hinking, sir - if so many natives could be [Yarico and IVowski, discovered asleep. aught, bow much they might fetch at the Trudge. A woman! [Aside-loud] But let Vest India marke!s!

him come on; I'm ready-dam'me, I don't fear Inkle. Scoundrel! is this a time to jest? facing the devil himself-Faith, it is a womanTrudge. No, faith, sir! hunger is too sharp fast asleep, too.

be jested with. As for me, I shall starve Inkle. And beautiful as an angel! or want of food. Now you may meet Trudge. And, egad! there seems to be a ickier fate: you are able to extract ihe square nice, little, plump, bit in the corner; only vot, sir; and that's the very best provision she's an angel of rather darker sort. can find here to live


But I! Inkle. Hush! keep back-she wakes. Noise at a distance] Mercy on us! here [Yarico comes forward - Inkle and ey come again.

Trudge retire to the opposite sides İnkle. Confusion! deserted on one side, and

of the scene. 'essed on the other, which way shall I turn ?- Parico. When the chace of day is done, 1) Report of a gun ; and report, an account of any thing

And the shaggy lion's skin, that has happened,

Which, for us, our warriors win,

at all!

; my heart is



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