this question; where the human heart is pre- Mort. Conferring with lord Abberville. sent, and the appeal is made to heaven, no Aug. Lord Abberville! You frighten me. jury need be summoned. Here is a stranger Mort. Fear nothing; you will find him a has the confidence to say, that your preten- new man; a deep incision has let out the dissions to charity are false: nay, he arraigns order; and I hope a healthy regimen in time your honesty; a charge injurious to any man, will heal the wound; in short I can't be idle; but mortal to a trader, and levell'd at the and now Frank is off my hands, I've once vital root of his profession. more undertaken to set this rickety babe of Bridge. Ay, 'tis the Turkey merchant I quality upon his legs-Oh, here he comes; suppose; let him come in; I know upon what why this is as it should be; now you look ground I stand, and am afraid of no man like friends. Enter AUBREY. Bridge. [Starting] Aubrey! Bridge. He lives! Aub. To thy confusion Enter LORD ABBERVILEE and TYRREL. Lord A. May we he ever so! O, Mortimer, I blush to look upon that lady; your reproofs I bore with some composure; but methinks was she to chide me, I should sink with shame. Aug. You've nothing, my lord Abberville, Rais'd by the to apprehend from me: I should be loath to bounty of my family, is this your gratitude? give an interruption to your happiness in the When in the bitterness of my distress I put height of my own. an infant daughter in your hands, the last Aub. Give me thy hand, Augusta- In the weak scion of a noble stock, was it to rob hope that I was labouring for thy sake, and me you received her; to plunder and defraud in thy person that I should restore the proan helpless orphan, as you thought her, and strate fortunes of an ancient house, I have rise upon the ruins of your benefactor's fortune? toiled on through eighteen years of wearisome Bridge. Oh! I am trepan'd! How shall I adventure: crown'd with succes, I now at look my wife and daughter in the face! [Aside. length return, and find my daughter all my Aub. Where have you lodg'd the money I fondest hope could represent; but past expedeposited with you at parting? I find my rience makes me provident: I would secure daughter destitute: what have you done with my treasure: I would bestow it now in faiththe remittances I sent from time to time? ful hands-What say you, sir, will you acBut, above all, where is the produce of the cept the charge? [To Tyrrel. Neptune's cargo? Villain, look here, I have Tyr. Yes, and will bear it ever in my sight, the proofs; this is the abstract of the sale; if watch over it with unremitting love, and you dispute it, I am here provided with a guard it with my life. witness, your Jew broker, ready at hand to attest is to your face. Bridge. Expose me not; I will refund to the last farthing: I dispute nothing; call him not in. Mort. There's no occasion for witnesses when a man pleads guilty. Enter MISS AUBREY, and throws herself on her Knees to her Father. add the rest. Aub. What says my child, my dear Augusta? But I read her looks - Blest be you both! Mort. Amen, say I. Live an example to the age; and when I read the list of marriages, as I do that of burials, with a sigh, let me have this to say, that there was one example of felicity. Lord A. Ŏ Frank, 'tis hard to speak the word, but you deserve her; yours is the road Aug. Dear sir, upon my knees, I do be- to happiness: I have been lost in error, but I seech you mitigate your severity; it is my shall trace your steps, and press to overtake you. rst petition; he's detected, let his conscience Mort. Why that's well said; there spoke your father from within you: now be gone; Aub. Rise, my beloved child, it shall be so. ly to the altars of your country lares; visit There, sir, your pardon be your punishment: that nurse of contemplation, solitude; and it was my money only you attempted, my while you range your groves, that shook at choicest treasure you have left untouch'd: now every rattle of the dice, ask of your reason, go and profit by this meeting: I will not ex- why you was a gamester. pose you learn of your fraternity a Lord A. I've been a madman; I have lost bonourable practice; and let integrity for ever an humble faithful friend, whose services would remain the inseparable characteristic of an be invaluable. English merchant. more Mort. Why ay, your Highlander, your Mort. Stay; I've another point to settle with poor Macleod; our plan must stop without sou; you're a creditor of lord Abberville's: I his help; I'm but a projector, he must execute And you've put miss Aubrey's money to ex--but there likewise I can serve you. raordinary interest: Jarvis, show this gentle- Lord A. O Mortimer, how much have I a into my library, you'll find a lawyer mistaken thee! Lere will settle your accounts. Mort. Come, come, I have my faults; Pro Bridge. I think you've pretty well done an untoward fellow and stand as much in hat already-A fine visit truly I have made need of a reform as any of you all. t; and a fine reception I shall meet at [Exit. 4ub. So! This uneasy business past, let us turn to happiness: where is your nephew? Enter DOCTOR DRUID hastily, followed by D. D. Tutor me truly-talk to me! Pray Aub. I father all your obligations; "twas gentlemens, bear witness is master Colins shall I find words to thank him as I ought? here a proper teacher of the dialects, d'ye see, and pronunciations of the English tongue? not you but me his bounty sav'd. Colin. Why not? Is there not Duncan Ross of Aberdeen that lactures twice a week on oratory at the Seven Dials? And does not Sawney Ferguson, a cousin of mine awn, administer the English language in its utmost elegance at Amsterdam? Dr. D. Bear witness; that is all I say, bear Lord A. Hold, sir; in point of obligation, I stand first. By how much there is more disgrace in doing than in suffering a violence, by so much I am more his debtor than you all. Colin. Ecod, and that is true enow; heaven sends misfortune, but the de'il sends mischief. Dr. D. Well, master Colins, all is past and over; you have got your place again, and all Mort. We do there is not one amongst is well. Coot now, let me admonish you for us, doctor, but can witness to some noble the future to be quiet and hear reason; moact of Colin's; and we would not wound his derate your choler, and your passions, and harmless vanity, for any bribe that you can your partialties: it is not for a clown like offer. you to prattle and dispute with me; in fait witness. Lord A. Colin, I've done you wrong; but you should know better. I was not myself; be you no worse a servant Mort. Come, come, 'tis you that should than you have been, and you shall find hence- know better; in this poor Highlander, the forward I will be a better master. force of prejudice has some plea, because he Colin. I'm satisfied; an you'll neglect your-is a clown; but you, a citizen that should be sall na' more than I shall do, things will gang of the world, whose heart, philosophy, and well enow. travel, might have open'd, should know better Tyr. I must apologize to Colin too: like than to join the cry with those, whose charity, my lord Abberville, I was not myself when I like the limitation of a brief, stops short at rebuff'd you on the business of miss Aubrey's Berwick, and never circulates beyond the letter. Tweed: by heaven, I'd rather weed out one Colin. Say no more, maister Tyrrel; 'tis such unmanly prejudice from the hearts of not for a mon to resent the pertness of a my countrymen, than add another Indies to child, or the petulance of a lover. their Empire. Aug. But what shall I say to him? Where THE WEST INDIAN, Comedy by Richard Cumberland. Acted at Drury Lane 1771. This comedy may be considered as one of the best that the present times have produced. The frequency of its representation renders it sufficiently known; and it was originally performed with very great and deserved success, "The character of Major O'Flaherty (says a writer in The Gentleman's Magazine) is not a fictitious one, but copied from the original in the person of Cot, O'B-ne, who distinguished himself daring many years service in the Austrian army, and is now retired upon a pension of abou 200 L. per annum, with a brevet de colonel. The last time I saw him was at the court of Bruxelles, in the year 1***, where he then resided, and was much respected both by the noblesse and the military, who paid him all the honore due to so brave and honest a veteran; a man whose courage had stood the test of every trial; whose intrepidity was beyond example in dangerous encounters. Without the least effeminacy, he was sometimes rather too blunt and uncouth; which, however, so far from giving offence, added new lustre to his actions: disdaining every symptom of duplicity, he was often too open and sincere. These qualities, joined to his gallant bravery, were always ready to vindicate any affront offered either to himself or his friends. Respecting the first, he generously condescended to expostulate before a challenge: in the other case, he stood forward the arbiter of disputes, the mediator in quarrels, and if the offending party obstinately refused to submit to his decisions, he had a sure way to-bring him to reason; be immediately espoused the cause of the injured or insulted, and made himself a second where he could not be admitted as principal. In the numberless engagements which he had of this sort, he was never known to have embarked wi rashness, or in a wrong cause, His idea of military virtue, and the point of honour, was so great, that he would ne suffer the least reflection to be cast on either; notwithstanding, he was a cheerful companion, a solid friend, and of generous spirit; but an implacable enemy to every species of meanness, which he always either corrected, or expose to the severest ridicule. In a few words, he was the advocate of the distressed, and the chastiser of the issulent The coachman of the Flemish baron had designedly, and contrary to the etiquette of rank, drove against and damag the carriage of the Duke of St. Alban's. This coming to the ears of the colonel, he insisted that the Duke shoul send a message to the baron, demanding an apology for his servants conduct; but the latter not complying, he accem panied the Duke to the baron's country-seat, requiring satisfaction for the indignity done to one of his grace's hi rank; giving him to understand, that he was come as champion for the duke; upon which the intimidated baron missively asked pardon. Being formerly an officer of Pandours in the Hungarian army, he was sent to Vienne, charge with dispatches from the general, containing the relation of some important advantages. The colonel, at that t only a private officer, unknown at court, and little acquainted with the place, or the usual ceremonies belonging was impatient to be admitted to the Queen; but, wanting the proper form of introduction, he remained some $5 unnoticed in the antechambers; till at length the Emperor accidentally passing, and attracted by his manly gre particular dress, very graciously inquired his business. Our honest Hibernian, not knowing the person of the Esper but won by his pleasing manner of address, complained of the inattention he had received, more especially as he sessed consequential matter in his dispatches, which he declared he would deliver to his royal mistress only. The Emperor, who till then had been occupied in admiring his martial appearance, and ignorant simplicity of court rules now made himself known: when O'B-ne, somewhat confused at this unexpected declaration, immediately inclined will respect at the Imperial presence, and presented the packet. The emperor, reading the letter, with the other hand ducted him to the Queen, where he was favourably received, and both seemed much pleased at the firmness and in grity of his behaviour; which, joined to other circumstances tending to his reputation, they rewarded by advancing hu to the rank of major, wherein he distinguished himself still more by his courage and strict regard to discipline. M other laudable anecdotes might here be recorded of him; these will suffice to give a sketch of his character. T author of the play has only drawn the outlines of the picture; the colouring is too faint, and not equal to the of the original. The Austrian and French annals can bring forward more than one example in natives of our sister kingdom, who have risen by their valour and abilities to a superiority of rank in those armies, whose names are saciently known to require a particular specification in this place. It is much to be lamented, that men of such acknowledged merit should be forced into a foreign service through point of conscience, and excluded from serving at home by the present tenour of our laws. Several of this description, whom I have conversed with in my travels, frankly confessed how pleasing it would be to them to join their legal standard, provided no restraints were laid ou their religious principles." ACT I. SCENE.-London. SCENE L-A Merchant's Counting-house. Stock. You shall hear. Not many days after our marriage, old Belcour set out for England; In an inner Room, set off by glass Doors, and, during his abode here, my wife was, are discovered several Clerks, employed ful in expedients to disguise her situation great secrecy, delivered of this son. Fruitat their Desks. A Writing Table in the without parting from her infant, she contrived with front Room. STOCKWELL is discovered to have it laid and received at her door as a reading a Letter; STUKELY comes gently out of the back Room, and observes him foundling. After some time her father returned, having left me here; in one of those favourable some Time before he speaks. moments that decide the fortunes of prosperous Stuke. He seems disordered: something in men, this child was introduced; from that that letter; and, I'm afraid, of an unpleasant instant he treated him as his own, gave him sort. -He has many ventures of great account his name, and brought him up in his family. at sea; a ship richly freighted for Barcelona; Old Belcour is dead, and has bequeathed his another for Lisbon; and others expected from whole estate to him we are speaking of. Cadiz, of still greater value. Besides these, I Stuke. Now then you are no longer bound know he has many deep concerns in foreign to secresy. bottoms, and underwritings to a vast amount. Stock. True: but before I publicly reveal I'll accost bim-Sir-Mr. Stockwell! myself, I could wish to make some experiment Stock. Stukely!-Well, have you shipped of my son's disposition: this can only be done the cloths? by letting his spirit take its course without Stuke. I have, sir; here's the bill of lading, restraint; by these means, I think I shall disand copy of the invoice; the assortments are all compared: Mr. Traffic will give you the policy upon 'Change. Stock. Tis very well-lay these papers by; and no more business for awhile. Shut the door, Stukely; I have had long proof of your friendship and fidelity to me; a matter of most intimate concern lies on my mind, and 'twill be a sensible relief to unbosom myself to you; I have just now been informed of the arrival of the young West Indian, I have so long been expecting-you know whom I mean? Stuke. Yes, sir; Mr. Belcour, the young entleman, who inherited old Belcour's great estate in Jamaica. Stock. Hush! not so loud; come a little nearer this way. This Belcour is now in London; part of his baggage is already arrived, and I expect him every minute. Is it to be wondered at, if his is coming throws me into some agitation, when I tell you, Stukely, he is my son? Stuke. Your son! cover much more of his real character under the title of his merchant, than I should under that of his father. Enter a Sailor, ushering in several Black Servants, carrying Portmanteaus, Trunks, etc. Sail. 'Save you honour! is your name Stockwell, pray? Stock. It is. Sail. Part of my master Belcour's baggage, an't please you: there's another cargo not far a-stern ) of us; and the coxswain has got charge of the dumb creatures. Stock. Pr'ythee, friend, what dumb creatures do you speak of; has Mr. Belcour brought over a collection of wild beasts? Sail. No, lord love him; no, not he; let me see; there's two green monkeys, a pair of grey parrots, a Jamaica sow and pigs, and a Mangrove dog; that's all, Stock. Is that all? Sail. Yes, your honour: Yes, that's all; bless Stock. Yes, sir, my only son. Early in life, his heart, a' might have brought over the whole I accompanied his grandfather to Jamaica as island if he would; a' didn't leave a dry eye is clerk; he had an only daughter, some- in it. what older than myself; the mother of this Stock. Indeed! Stukely, show them where to gentleman: it was my chance (call it good or bestow their baggage. Follow that gentleman. > to engage her affections; and, as the infe- Sail. Come, bear a hand, my lads, bear a rity of my condition made it hopeless to hand. [Exit, with Stukely and Servants. pect her father's consent, her fondness pro- Stock If the principal tallies with his purded an expedient, and we were privately veyors, he must be a singular spectacle in this rried; the issue of that concealed engage- place: he has a friend, however, in this seasent is, as I have told you, this Belcour. faring fellow; 'tis no bad prognostic of a man's Stuke. That event surely discovered your heart, when his shipmates give him a good word. Bel. Nor did we: courier like: we came [Exit. posting to your shores, upon the pinions of the swiftest gales that ever blew; 'tis upon English ground all my difficulties have arisen; 'tis the passage from the river side I complain of. SCENE II.-A Drawing-room. Enter Housekeeper and Servant. Housek. Why, what a fuss does our good master put himself in about this West Indian! Stock. Ay, indeed! What obstructions can see what a bill of fare I've been forced to draw you have met between this and the river side? out; seven and nine, 1) I'll assure you, and Bel. Innumerable! Your town is as full of only a family dinner, as he calls it: why, if defiles as the island of Corsica, and I believe my lord mayor was expected, there couldn't they are as obstinately defended; so much be a greater to-do about him. hurry, bustle, and confusion, on your quays: Sero. I wish to my heart you had but seen so many sugar casks, porter butts, and comthe loads of trunks, boxes, and portmanteaus, mon council men, in your streets, that unless he has sent hither. An ambassador's baggage, a man marched with artillery in his front, 'tis with all the smuggled goods of his family, more than the labour of Hercules can effect, does not exceed it. to make any tolerable way through your town. Stock. I am sorry you have been so incommoded. Housek. A fine pickle he'll put the house into: had he been master's own son, and a Christian Englishman, there could not be more rout than there is about this Creolian, as they call them. Bel. Why, 'faith 'twas all my own fault; accustomed to a land of slaves, and out of patience with the whole tribe of custom-house Sero. No matter for that; he's very rich, extortioners, boatmen, tidewaiters and waterand that's sufficient. They say, he has rum bailiffs, that beset me on all sides, worse than and sugar enough belonging to him, to make a swarm of musquitoes, I proceeded a little all the water in the Thames into punch. But too roughly to brush them away with my I see my master's coming. [Exit Housekeeper. rattan; the sturdy rogues took this in dudgeon, Serv. A waiter from the London Tavern, sir; he says, the young gentleman is just dressed, and will be with you directly. and beginning to rebel, the mob chose different sides, and a furious scuffle ensued; in the course of which, my person and apparel suffered so much, that I was obliged to step into the first tavern to refit, before I could make my approaches in any decent trim. Stock. All without is as I wish; dear nature, Stock. Show him in when he arrives. add the rest, I am happy. [Aside] Well, Mr. Serv. I shall, sir. I'll have a peep at him Belcour, 'tis a rough sample you have had of first, however; I've a great mind to see this my countrymen's spirit; but, I trust, you'll outlandish spark. The sailor fellow says, he'll not think the worse of them for it. make rare doings amongst us. Aside. Bel. Not at all, not at all; I like them the Stock. You need not wait; leave me. [Exit better. Was I only a visitor, I might, perhaps, Servant] Let me see. [Reads. wish them a little more tractable; but, as a Sir,-1 write to you under the hands of fellow subject, and a sharer in their freedom, the hairdresser; as soon as I have made I applaud their spirit, though I feel the effects myself decent, and slipped on some fresh of it in every bone of my skin. clothes, I will have the honour of paying Stock. That's well; I like that well. How you my devoirs. Yours, BELCOUR. gladly I could fall upon his neck, and own He writes at his ease; for he's unconscious to myself his father! [Aside whom his letter is addressed; but what a pal- Beb Well, Mr. Stockwell, for the first time pitation does it throw my heart into; a father's in my life, here am I in England; at the heart! All the reports I ever received give me fountain head of pleasure, in the land of beauty, favourable impressions of his character, wild, of arts, and elegancies. My happy stars have perhaps, as the manner of his country is, but, given me a good estate, and the conspiring I trust, not frantic or unprincipled. Enter Servant. winds have blown me hither to spend it. Stock. To use it, not to waste it, I should hope; to treat it, Mr. Belcour, not as a vassal, Serv. Sir, the foreign gentleman is come. over whom you have a wanton and a despotic [Exit. power; but as a subject, which you are bound to govern, with a temperate and restrained authority. Enter BELCOUR. Stock. Mr. Belcour, I am rejoiced to see Bel. True, sir, most truly said; mine's a you; you are welcome to England! commission, not a right; I am the offspring of Bel. I thank you heartily, good Mr. Stock-distress, and every child of sorrow is my well; you and I have long conversed at a brother; while I have hands to hold, theredistance; now we are met; and the pleasure fore, I will hold them open to mankind; but, this meeting gives me, amply compensates for sir, my passions are my masters; they take the perils I have run through in accomplish-me where they will; and oftentimes they leave ing it. to reason and to virtue nothing but my wishes and my sighs. Stock, What perils, Mr. Belcour? I could not have thought you would have made a bad passage at this time o'year. Stock. Čome, come, the man who can ac cuse, corrects himself. Bel. Ah! that's an office I am weary of I wish a friend would take it up; I would to my own. heaven you had leisure for the employ; but, himself, nor ever allowed it in his children. did you drive a trade to the four corners of Miss R. Ay; those were happy times, indeed. the world, you would not find the task so Lady R. But, in this forward age, we have toilsome as to keep me free from faults. coquettes in the egg-shell, and philosophers in Stock. Well, I am not discouraged; this the cradle; girls of fifteen, that lead the facandour tells me I should not have the fault shion in new caps and new opinions, that of self conceit to combat; that, at least, is not have their sentiments and their sensations; and amongst the number. the idle fops encourage them in it: O'my conBel. No; if I knew that man on earth who science, I wonder what it is the men can see thought more humbly of me than I do of in such babies. myself, I would take up his opinion, and forego Miss R. True, madam; but all men do not overlook the maturer beauties of your ladyStock. And were I to choose a pupil, it ship's age; wittness your admired major Denshould be one of your complexion; so if you'll nis O'Flaherty; there's an example of some come along with me, we'll agree upon your discernment; I declare to you, when your admission, and enter on a course of lectures ladyship is by, the major takes no more notice directly. of me than if I was part of the furniture of [Exeunt. your chamber. Lady R. The major, child, has travelled RUSPORT'S through various kingdoms and climates, and has more enlarged notions of female merit than falls to the lot of an English home-bred lover; in most other countries, no woman on your side forty would ever be named in a polite circle. Bel. With all my heart. SCENE III.A Room in LADY House. Enter LADY RUSPORT and MISS RUSPORT. Lady R. Miss Rusport, I desire to hear no more of captain Dudley and his destitute family; not a shilling of mine shall ever cross Miss R. Right, madam; I've been told that the hands of any of them; because my sister in Vienna they have coquettes upon crutches, chose to marry a beggar, am I bound to sup- and Venuses in their grand climacteric; a lover port him and his posterity? Miss R. I think you are. Lady R. You think I am! and pray where do you find the law that tells you so? there celebrates the wrinkles, not the dimples in his mistress' face. The major, I think, "has served in the imperial army. 1) Lady R. Are you piqued, my young madam? Miss R. I am not proficient enough to quote Had my sister Louisa yielded to the addreschapter and verse; but I take charity to be a ses of one of major O'Flaherty's person and main clause in the great statute of Christianity. appearance, she would have had some excuse; Lady R. I say charity, indeed! I am apt to but to run away as she did, at the age of think the distresses of old Dudley, and of his sixteen too, with a man of old Dudley's sortdaughter into the bargain, would never break Miss R. Was, in my opinion, the most your heart, if there was not a certain young venial trespass that ever girl of sixteen comfellow of two-and-twenty in the case; who, mitted; of a noble family, an engaging perby the happy recommendation of a good per-son, strict honour, and sound understanding, son, and the brilliant appointments of an en- what accomplishment was there wanting in signcy, will, if I am not mistaken, cozen you captain Dudley, but that which the prodigality out of a fortune of twice twenty thousand of his ancestors had deprived him of? pounds, as soon as ever you are of age to Lady R. They left him as much as he debestow it upon him. serves; hasn't the old man captain's half-pay? Miss R. A nephew of your ladyship's can And is not the son an ensign? never want any other recommendation with Enter Servant. Miss R. An ensign! Alas, poor Charles! me and if my partiality for Charles Dudley Would to heaven he knew what my heart is acquitted by the rest of the world, I hope feels and suffers for his sake, Lady Rusport will not condemu me for it. Lady R. I condemn you! I thank heaven, aiss Rusport, I am no ways reponsible for your conduct; nor is it any concern of mine how you dispose of yourself: you are not my daughter, and, when I married your father, poor sir Stephen Rusport, I found you a forward spoiled miss of fourteen, far above being instructed by me. Miss R. Perhaps your ladyship calls this Serv. Ensign Dudley, to wait upon your ladyship. Lady R. Who! Dudley! What can have brought him to town? Miss R. Dear madam, 'tis Charles Dudley, 'tis your nephew. Lady R. Nephew! I renounce him as my nephew; sir Oliver renounced him as his instruction. grandson; wasn't he son of the eldest daughter, Lady R. You are strangely pert; but 'tis no and only male descendant of sir Oliver; and wonder: your mother, I'm told, was a fine didn't he cut him off with a shilling? Didn't lady: and according to the modern style of the poor dear good old man leave his fortune education you was brought up. It was not to me, except a small annuity to my maiden so in my young days; there was then some sister, who spoiled her constitution with nursdecorum in the world, some subordination, as ing him? And, depend upon it, not a penny the great Locke expresses it. Oh! 'twas an of that fortune shall ever be disposed of edifying sight, to see the regular deportment otherwise than according to the will of the observed in our family; no giggling, no gos-donor. apping was going on there! my good father, sar Oliver Roundhead, never was seen to laugh] 1) Emperor of Austric. |