since he does not know how to use a gentleman, I'll do a public piece of justice, and use him like a villain. Don M. Better words, sir. [To Flora. Flora. Why, sir, d'ye take this fellow for don Philip? Don M. What d'ye mean, sir? Hyp. Hey! who waits there? Here, you! Don M. A coach! Enter VILETTA. Vil. Sir, sir!-bless me! What's the matter, sir? Are not you well? Don M. Yes, yes-I am—that is—ha! Don M. What business can he have for a coach? Hyp. I'm a little vex'd at my servant's being out of the way, and the insolence of this other rascal. Don M. But what occasion have you for post-horses, sir? Hyp. Something happens a little cross, sir. Hyp. I'll tell you another time, sir. Hyp. Lord, sir, when you see a man's out of humour. Don M. Sir, it may be I'm as much out of humour as you; and I must tell ye, I don't like your behaviour, and I'm resolv'd to be satisfy'd. Hyp. Sir, what is't you'd have? [Peevishly. Don M. Lookye, sir-in short-I-I have receiv'd a letter. Hyp. Well, sir. Don M. I wish it may be well, sir. Hyp. Bless me, sir! what's the matter with you? Don M. Matter, sir!-in troth I'm almost afraid and ashamed to tell ye; but if you must Vil. I have brought you a letter, sir, from needs know-there's the matter, sir. Octavio. Don M. To me? Vil. No, sir, to my mistress-he charged me to deliver it immediately; for he said it concerned her life and fortune. Don M. How! let's see it-There's what I promised thee-be gone. What can this be now? [Reads. [Gives the Letter. Enter DoN LEWIS. Don L. Uncle, I am your humble servant. Don M. I am glad to see you, nephew. Don L. I received your invitation, and am come to pay my duty: but here I met with The person whom your father ignorantly the most surprising news. designs you to marry, is a known cheat, Don M. Pray what is it? and an impostor; the true don Philip, who Don L. Why, first your servant told me, is my intimate friend, will immediately ap- my young cousin was to be married to-day pear with the corregidore, and fresh evi- to don Philip de las Torres; and just as I dence against him. I thought this advice, was entering your doors, who should I meet though from one you hate, would be well but don Philip with the corregidore, and sereceived if it came time enough to prevent veral witnesses to prove, it seems, that the your ruin. OCTAVIO. person whom you were just going to marry O, my heart! this letter was not designed to my cousin to, has usurp'd his name, betray'd fall into my hands-I am frightened-I dare you, robb'd him, and is in short a rank imnot think on't. postor. Don M. Dear nephew, don't torture me: are ye sure you know don Philip when you see him? fellows, fellow collegians, and fellow travellers? Don L. Know him, sir? were not we schoolDon M. But are you sure you mayn't have forgot him neither?" Don L. You might as well ask me if I had not forgot you, sir. Don M. But one question more and I am dumb for ever-Is that he? Don L. That, sir? No, nor in the least like him.-But pray why this concern? I hope we are not come too late to prevent the marriage? Don M. Oh! oh! oh! oh! my poor child! [Seems to faint. Don M. Ah! look to my child. Don L. Is this the villain then that has imposed on you? Ros. Oh! Ros. I hope you are not hurt, sir. [To Hypolita, who minds her not]-What's the matter with him, sir? he won't speak to me. Hyp. Sir, I'm this lady's husband; and while [To Don Manuel. I'm sure that name can't be taken from me, Don M. A-speak!-a-go to him again- I shall be contented with laughing at any try what fair words will do, and see if you other you or your party dare give me. can pick out the meaning of all this. Don M. Oh! Don L. Nay then, within there! - such a villain ought to be made an example. Don M. Oh! oh! Oct Can she repent her falsehood then at last? Is't possible? then I'm wounded too! O my poor undone Rosara! [Goes to her] Ungrateful! cruel! perjured man! Don M. Oh! don't insult me! I deserve the worst you can say.-I'm a miserable wretch, and I repest me. Vil. So! here's the lady in tears, the lover in rage, the old gentleman out of his senses, most of the company distracted, and the bridegroom in a fair way to be hanged. - The merriest wedding that ever I saw in my life. [Apart to Hypolita. Cor. Well, sir, have you any thing to say before I make your warrant? Don M. Will my cares never be over? Cor. Well, gentlemen, let me rightly understand what 'tis you charge him with, and I'll commit him immediately -- First, sir, you say, these gentlemen all know you to be the -Gentlemen, I have reflected on the folly of true Don Philip? my action, and foresee the disquiets I am like Hyp. A word or two, and I obey ye, sir. Don L. That, sir, I presume my oath will prove. to undergo in being this lady's husband; thereOct. Or mine. Flora. And mine. fore, as I own myself the author of all this Don P. Pshaw! some new contrivance- Trap. Ay, and mine too, sir. [head? Don M. Where shall I hide this shameful Flora. And for the robbery, that I can prove upon him: he confess'd to me at Toledo, he stole this gentleman's portmanteau there, to carry on his design upon this lady, and agreed to give me a third part of her fortune for my to assistance; which he refusing to pay as soon as the marriage was over, thought myself obliged in honour to discover him." Don L. Stay a moment, it can be no harm hear him-Sir, will you oblige us? Cor. Wait without. [Exeunt Officers. Vil. What's to be done now, 'trow? Trap. Some smart thing, I warrant ye; the Hyp. Well, gentlemen, you may insult me little gentleman hath a notable head, faith. if you please; but I presume you'll hardly be Flora. Nay, gentlemen, thus much I know able to prove that I'm not married to the lady, of him: that if you can but persuade him to or hav'n't the best part of her fortune in my be honest, 'tis still in his power to make you pocket; so do your worst: I own my inge-all amends; and, in my opinion, 'tis high time nuity, and am proud on't. he should propose it. Don M. Ingenuity, abandon'd villain!-But, Don M. Ay, 'tis time he were hang'd indeed: sir, before you send him to gaol, I desire he for I know no other amends he can make us. may return the jewels I gave him as part of Hyp. Then I must tell you, sir, I owe you my daughter's portion. no reparation; the injuries which you comCor. That can't be, sir-since he has mar-plain of, your sordid avarice, and breach of ried the lady, her fortune's lawfully his: all promise here have justly brought upon you: we can do, is to prosecute him for robbing therefore, sir, if you are injured, you may this gentleman. thank yourself for it. Don M. O that ever I was born. Don M. Nay, dear sir, I do confess my Hyp. Return the jewels, sir! if you don't blindness, and could heartily wish your eyes pay me the rest of her fortune to-morrow or mine had dropp'd out of our heads before morning, you may chance to go to gaol be-ever we saw one another. fore me. Don M. O that I were buried! Will my cares never be over? Hyp. They are pretty near it, sir; you can't have much more to trouble you. Cor. Come, sir, if you please; I must desire to take your deposition in writing. [Goes to the Table with Flora. Don P. Now, sir, you see what your own rashness has brought ye to. Don M. Pray forbear, sir. Hyp. Well, sir (however little you have deserved it), yet for your daughter's sake, if you'll oblige yourself, by signing this paper, to keep your first promise, and give her, with her full fortune, to this gentleman, I'm still content, on that condition, to disannul my own prelences, and resign her. Don M. Sir, I don't know how to answer you: for I can never believe you'll have good nature enough to hang yourself out of the way to make room for him? Hyp. Keep it up, madam. [Aside to Rosara. Hyp. Then, sir, to let you see I have not Ros. Oh, sir! how wretched have you made only an honest meaning, but an immediate me! is this the care you have taken of me for power too, to make good my word, I first my blind obedience to your commands? this renounce all title to her fortune: these jewels, my reward for filial duty? [To Don Manuel. which I received from you, I give him free Don M. Ah! my poor child! possession of; and now, sir, the rest of her Ros. But I deserve it all, for ever listening fortune you owe him with her person. to your barbarous proposal, when my con- Don M. This is unaccountable, I must conscience might have told me, my vows and fess-But still, sir, if you disannul your preperson in justice and honour were the wronged tences, how you'll persuade that gentleman, to Octavio's. whom I am obliged in contract to part with his Don P. That, sir, shall be no lett; I am too sued, and carried with this kind surprise at well acquainted with the virtue of my friend's last, gives me wonder equal to my joy. title, to entertain a thought that can disturb it. Hyp. Here's one that at more leisure shall Hyp. Now, sir, it only stops at you. inform you all: she was ever a friend to your Don M. Well, sir, I see the paper is only love, has had a hearty share in the fatigue, conditional, and since the general welfare is and now I am bound in honour to give her concern'd, I won't refuse to lend you my help- part of the garland too. ing hand to it; but if you should not make your words good, sir, I hope you won't take it ill if a man should poison you. Don P. How! she! Flora. Trusty Flora, sir, at your service! I have had many a battle with my lady upon Don P. And, sir, let me too warn you how your account; but I always told her we should you execute this promise; your flattery and do her business at last. dissembled penitence has deceiv'd me once Don M. Another metamorphosis! Brave girls, already, which makes me, I confess, a little faith! Odzooks, we shall have 'em make camslow in my belief; therefore take heed, expect paigus shortly. no second mercy! for be assured of this, I never can forgive a villain. Hyp. If I am proved one spare me not-I [Gives Hypolita the Writing, signed. Hyp. And now, don Philip, I confess you are the only injured person here. Don P. I know not that-do my friend right, and I shall easily forgive thee. Hyp. His pardon, with his thanks, I am sure shall deserve: but how shall I forgive myself? Is there in nature left a means that can repair the shameful slights, the insults, and the long disquiets you have known from love? Don P. Let me understand thee. Don P. In Seville I'll provide for thee. Hyp. Nay, here's another accomplice too, confederate I can't say; for honest Trappanti did not know but that I was as great a rogue as himself. Trap. It's a folly to lie; I did not indeed, madam.-But the world cannot say I have been a rogue to your ladyship- and if you had not parted with your money Hyp. Thou hadst not parted with thy honesty. Trap. Right, madam; but how should a poor naked fellow resist when he had so many pistoles held against him? [Show's Money. Don M. Ay, ay, well said, lad. Fil. Ea? A tempting bait indeed! let him offer to marry me again if he dares. [Aside. Don P. Well, Trappanti, thou hast been serviceable, however, and I'll think of thee. Oct. Nay, I am his debtor too. Hyp. Examine well your heart, and if the fierce resentment of its wrongs has not extin- Trap. Ah! there's a very easy way, genguished quite the usual soft compassion there, tlemen, to reward me; and since you partly revive at least one spark in pity of my wo-owe your happiness to my roguery, I should man's weakness. be very proud to owe mine only to your geDon P. Whither wouldst thou carry me me? Oct. As how, pray? [nerosity. Hyp. The extravagant attempt I have this Trap. Why, si., I find by my constitution, day run through to meet you thus, justly may that it is as natural to be in love as to be hunsubject me to your contempt and scorn, unless gry, and that I han't a jot less stomach than the same forgiving goodness that used to over- the best of my betters; and though I have oftlook the failings of Hypolita, prove still my en thought a wife but dining every day upon friend, and soften all with the excuse of love. the same dish; yet methinks it's better than [All seem amazed] O Philip-Hypolita is- no dinner at all. Upon which considerations, yours for ever. [They advance slowly, and gentlemen and ladies, I desire you'll use your at last rush into one another's Arms. interest with Madona here-To admit me into Don P. It is, it is, Hypolita! And yet 'tis her good graces. she! I know her by the busy pulses at my Don M. A pleasant rogue, faith! Odzooks, heart, which only love like mine can feel, and the jade shall have him. Come, hussy, he's she alone can give. [Embraces her eagerly. an ingenious person. Don M. Have I then been pleased, and pla- Vil. Sir, I don't understand his stuff; when gued, and frighted out of my wits, by a wo- he speaks plain I know what to say to him. man all this while? Odsbud, she is a notable Trap. Why then, in plain terms, let me a contriver! Stand clear, ho! For if I have not lease for life.-Marry me. a fair brush at her lips; nay, if she does not Vil. Ay, now you say something-I was give me the hearty smack too, odds-winds and afraid, by what you said in the garden, you thunder, she is not the good-humour'd girl I had only a mind to be a wicked tenant at will. take her for. Trap. No, no, child, I have no mind to be Hyp. Come, sir, I won't balk your good turn'd out at a quarter's warning. humour. [He kisses her] And now I have a Vil. Well, there's my hand-And now meet favour to beg of you; you remember your me as soon as you will with a canonical promise: only your blessing here, sir. lawyer, and I'll give you possession of the Don M. Ah! Octavio and Rosara kneel, rest of the premises. can deny thee nothing; and Don M. Odzooks, and well thought of, I'll so, children, heaven bless ye together-And send for one presently. Here, you, sirrah, run now my cares are over again. to father Benedick again, tell him his work Oct. We'll study to deserve your love, sir. don't hold here, his last marriage is dropp'd Don P. My friend successful too! Then my to pieces; but now we have got better tackle, joys are double-But how this generous at- he must come and stitch two or three fresh tempt was started first, how it has been pur-couple together as fast as he can. Don P. Now, my Hypolita! O! never let a virtuous mind despair, GEORGE COLMAN Was the son of Francis Colman, Esq., His Majesty's resident at the court of the Grand Duke of Tuscany at Florence, by a sister of the Countess of Bath. He was born at Florence about 1753, and had the honour of having king George the Second for his godfather. He received his education at Westminster School, where he very early showed his poetical talents. The first performance by him was a copy of verses addressed to his cousin Lord Pulteney, written in the year 1747, while he was at Westminster, and since printed in The St. Jame's Magazine, a work published by his unfortunate friend, Robert Lloyd. From Westminster School he removed to Oxford, and became a student of Christchurch. It was there, at a very early age, that he engaged with his friend Bonnel Thornton, in publishing The Connoisseur, a periodical paper which appeared once a week, and was continued from Jan. 51. 1754. to Sept. 35. 1756, When the age of the writers of this entertaining paper is considered, the wit and humour, the spirit, the good sense and shrewd observations on life and manners, with which it abounds, will excite some degree of wonder; but will, at the same time, evidently point out the extraordinary talents which were afterwards to be more fully displayed in The Jealous Wife and The Clandestine Marriage. The recommendation of his friends, or his choice, but probably the former, induced him to fix upon the law for his profession; and was accordingly entered at Lincoln's Inn, and in due season called to the bar. He attended there a very short time; though, if our recollection does not mislead us, he was seen often enough in the courts to prevent the supposition of his abandoning the profession merely for want of encouragement, On the 18th of March 1758, he took the degree ef Master of arts at Oxford; and in the year 1760 his first dramatic piece, Polly Honeycomb, was acted at Drury Lane, with great success. For several years before, the comic Muse seemed to have relinquished the stage, No comedy had been produced at either theatre since the year 1751, when Moore's Gil Blas was with difficulty performed nine nigts. In July 1764 Lord Bath died and on that event Mr. Colman found himself in circumstances fully sufficient to enable him to follow the bent of his genius. The first publication which he produced, after this period, was a translation in blank verse of the comedies of Terence, 1765; and whoever would wish to see the spirit of an aucient bard transfused into the English language, must look for it in Mr. Colman's version. The successor of Lord Bath, General Pulteney, died in 1767; and Mr. Colman again found himself remembered in his will, by a second annuity, which confirmed the independency of his fortune. He seems, however, to have felt no charms in an idle life; as, in 1767, he united with Messrs. Harris, Rutherford, and Powell, in the purchase of Covent Garden Theatre, and took upon himself the laborious office of acting manager. After contisuing manager of Covent Garden Theatre seven years, Mr. Colman sold his share and interest therein to Mr. James Leake, one of his then partners; and, in 1777, purchased of Mr. Foote the Little Theatre in the Haymarket. The estimation in which the entertainments exhibited under his direction were held by the public, the reputation which the theatre acquired, and the continual concourse of the polite world during the height of summer, sufficiently spoke the praises of Mr. Colman's management. Indeed, it has been long admitted, that no person, since the death of Mr. Garrick, was so able to superintend the entertainments of the stage as the subject of this account. About the year 1785 Mr. Colman gave the public a new translation of, and commentary on, Horace's Art of Poetry; in which he produced a new system to explain this very difficult poem. In opposition to Dr. Hurd, he supposed, "that one of the sons of Piso, undoubtedly the elder, hat either written or mediated a poetical work, most probably a tragedy; and that he had, with the knowledge of the family, communicated his piece or intention to Horace. But Horace either dissaproving of the work, or doubling of the poetical faculties of the elder Piso, or both, wished to dissuade him from all thought of publication. With this view he formed the design of writing this epistle; addressing it, with a courtliness and delicacy perfectly agreeable to his acknowledged character, indifferently to the whole family, the father and his two sons. Epistola ad Pisones de arte Poetica." This hypothesis is supported with much learning, ingenuity, and modesty; and, if not fully established, is at least as well entitled to applause as that adopted by the Bishop of Worcester. On the publication of the Horace, the Bishop said to Dr. Douglas, "Give my compliments to Colman, and thank him for the handsome manner in which he has treated me; and tell him, that I think he is right" Mr. Colman died at Paddington, on the 14th of August 1794, at the age of 62. A few hours before his death he was seized with violent spasms; and these were succeeded by a melancholy stupor, in which he drew his last breath. THE JEALOUS WIFE, Com, by Geo. Colman, 1761. This piece made its appearance at Drury Lane with prodigious success. The groundwork of it is derived from Fielding's History of Tom Jones, at the period of Sophia's taking refuge at Lady Bellaston's house. The characters borrowed from that work, however, only serve as a kind of underplot to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Oakley, viz. the Jealous Wife and her husband. It must be confessed, that the passions of the lady are here worked up to a very great height; and Mr. Oakley's vexation and domestic misery, in consequence of her behaviour, are very strongly supported. Yet, perhaps, the author would have better answered his purpose with respect to the passion he intended to expose the absurdity of, had he made her appear somewhat less of the virago, and Mr. Oakley not so much of the henpecked husband; since she now appears rather a lady, who, from a consciousness of her own power, is desirous of supporting the appearance of jealousy, to procure her an indue influence over her husband and family, than ene, who, feeling the reality of that turbulent yet fluctuating passion, becomes equally absurd in the suddenness of forming unjust suspicions, and in that hastiness of being satisfied, which love, the only true basis of jealousy, will constantly Occasion. When this play was originally acted, it was remarked, that the scene of Mrs. Oakley's hysteric fits bor ea near resemblance to the like situation of Mrs. Termagant in The Squire of Alsatia. Mr. Colman has been accused of a misnomer in calling it The Jealous Wife; Mrs. Oakley being totally destitute of that delicacy, which some consider necessary to constitute jealousy. Many exceptions might be taken to the characters in this piece-that of Lady Freelove is perhaps too odious for the stage, while that of Captain O'Cutter does little honour to the navy. The play, however, upon the whole, boasts more than an ordinary share of merit. ACT I. SCENE. I. A Room in OAKLY'S House. [Noise heard within. her miseries.- How unfortunate a woman am I!-I could die with vexation [Throwing herself into a Chair. Oak. There it is-Now dare not I stir a step further-If I offer to go, she is in one of Mrs. O. [Within] Don't tell me-I know her fits in an instant-Never sure was woman at once of so violent and so delicate a constitution! What shall I say to sooth her? [Aside]Nay, never make thyself so uneasy, my dear-Come, come, you know I love you. Mrs. O. I know you hate me; and that your unkindness and barbarity will be the death of me. [Whining: it is so-It's monstrous, and I will not bear it. Mrs. O. Say what you will, Mr. Oakly, you shall never persuade me but this is some filthy intrigue of yours. Oak. I can assure you, my love Mrs. O. Your love!-Don't I know your— Tell me, I this instant, every circumstance say, relating to this letter. Oak. How can I tell you, when you will not so much as let me see it? Oak. Do not vex yourself at this rate-I love you most passionately-Indeed I doThis must be some mistake. Mrs. O. Oh, I am an unhappy woman! [Weeping. Oak. Dry up thy tears, my love, and be comforted! You will find that I am not to blame in this matter-Come, let me see this letter-Nay, you shall not deny me. [Takes the Letter, Mrs. O. There! take it; you know the hand, am sure. Mrs. O. Look you, Mr. Oakly, this usage is not to be borne. You take a pleasure in abusing my tenderness and soft disposition.To be perpetually running over the whole I town, nay, the whole kingdom too, in pursuit Oak. [Reads] To Charles Oakly, Esq.— of your amours! Did not I discover that Hand! 'Tis a clerk-like hand, a good round you was great with mademoiselle, my own text! and was certainly never penned by a woman?-Did not you contract a shameful fair lady. familiarity with Mrs. Freeman?-Did not I Mrs. O. Ay, laugh at me, do! detect your intrigue with lady Wealthy?— Oak. Forgive me, my love, I dit not mean to laugh at thee - But what says the letter? Was not youOak. Oons! madam, the grand Turk him- [Reads] Daughter eloped-you must be self has not half so many mistresses-Yo throw privy to it-scandalous-dishonourable-same out of all patience-Do I know any body tisfaction-revenge-um, um, um — injured but our common friends?-Am I visited by father. HENRY RUSSET. any body that does not visit you?-Do I ever Mrs. O. [Rising] Well, sir-you see I have go out, unless you go with me?-And am I detected you-Tell me this instant where she not as constantly by your side as if I was is concealed. tied to your apron-strings? Oak. So-so — so -This hurts me-) shocked. [To himself. Mrs. O. What, are you confounded with your guilt? Have I caught you at last? Mrs. O. Go, go; you are a false man-Have not I found you out a thousand times? And have not I this moment a letter in my hand, which convinces me of your baseness?-Let me know the whole affair, or I will Oak. Let you know! Let me know what you would have of me - You stop my letter before it comes to my hands, and then expect that I should know the contents of it! Mrs. O. Heaven be praised, I stopped it! I suspected some of these doings for some time past-But the letter informs me who she is, and I'll be revenged on her sufficiently. Oh, you base man, you! Oak. I beg, my dear, that you would moderate your passion!-Show me the letter, and I'll convince you of my innocence. Oak. O that wicked Charles! To decoy a young lady from her parents in the country! The profligacy of the young fellows of this age is abominable. [To himself. Mrs. O. [Half aside, and musing] Charles!-Let me see!-Charles!-No!-Impossible! This is all a trick. Oak. He has certainly ruined this poor lady. [To himself. Mrs. O. Art! art! all art! There's a sudden turn now! You have ready wit for an intrigue, I find. Oak. Such an abandoned action! I wish I had never bad the care of him. Mrs. O. Innocence!- Abonimable!-Inno- Mrs. O. Mighty fine, Mr. Oakly! Go on, cence! But I am not to be made such a fool sir, go on! I see what you mean.-Your as-I am convinced of your perfidy, and very surance provokes me beyond your very falsesure thathood itself. So you imagine, sir, that this afOak. 'Sdeath and fire! your passion hurries fected concern, this flimsy pretence about you out of your senses-Will you hear me? Charles, is to bring you off. Matchless conMrs. O. No, you are a base man: and Ifidence! But I am armed against every thing will not hear you. -I am prepared for all your dark schemes: Oak. Why then, my dear, since you will I am aware of all your low stratageins. neither talk reasonably yourself, nor listen to Oak. See there now! Was ever any thing reason from me, I shall take my leave till so provoking? To persevere in your ridicuyou are in a better humour. So your servant! lous-For heaven's sake, my dear, don't dis[Going. tract me. When you see my mind thus agi Mrs. O. Ay, go, you cruel man!-Go to tated and uneasy, that a young fellow, whom your mistresses, and leave your poor wife to his dying father, my own brother, committed |