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In far and feeble starlight!
Here we part;'
One kiss, fair traitress! [He kisses her]
like cold and sweet.
And now the world's before me.

must fly the country. Our pride has had a fa Ven. Aye: now boast-now triumph Death-fall!-and so hard a one, that may be i the Gazette), if I ever try a fall again. He Victoria; Leonora, help to bear up your mothe griefs. Hers is a heavy case, a very weig concern, indeed. She see through a rog She might as well see to the end of a sui Chancery. Pride-ruin-madness! [Exeu SCENE III. An Apartment in VENTOS House. VICTORIA and LEONORA come

This be all,

Early or late, Lorenzo's epitaph:
That he had deem'd it nobler, to go forth,
Steering his sad and solitary prow
Across the ocean of adventurous deeds,
Than creep the lazy track of ancestry.
They be the last of theirs, I first of mine.
Vic. Lorenzo, hear me.

Vic. At home again! Stay with me, L nora-My brain is wild. I can scarcely t TORRENTO and LEONORA re-appear. that we have escaped from that hideous pris Coun. Will she kneel to him? Can she Did not Lorenzo upbraid me, cast me ofendure this insult? Prince, take your bride. I will take the veil. [To Torrento.


Leon. Take the veil! take nothing Tor. Who dares insult her? That rioter courage. Your beauty might kill a whole r come again! Sir, the man who offends this ment of officers, instead of pining for lady must not live. [Lorenzo turns. I would not give a sigh to save the w Lor. I had forgot!-Vagabond,-Ho-Jai-army-list-Yet, I feel some strange, delig lor! Fling this impostor into the dungeon hope, that all will yet be well-Your Pr from which I took him. you see, was one of my adorers-in co [Ventoso and the Females in surprise. to marry you, he thought he was com Tor. Draw, and defend yourself! [The marry me - Monstrous impudence in e Jailor, Lazaro, and Assistants, rush in case.-I shall have him yet for all that, i behind Torrento, and pinion him. The woman. Hussars return] Stiletto! 'Tis the jail-completely tricked, trapped, trepanned. What's Pisan. Ladies, your immediate atten all this for? [To the Jailor]-Handcuffs at the palace is commanded by order o 'tis against prison rules-I have not broke Viceroy, the Prince de Pindemonté. bounds-I'll give bail to any amount-a thou- Vic. The Impostor!-Viceroy! imposs sand sequins-ten-twenty thousand. The Leon. Torrento, Viceroy! incredible! Count will go security. [Aside] Count, I say-out of prison-got into the palace-He is [Calling. great sublime of impudence. I adore Ven. I am deaf. Security! Swindler! How for his ingenuity.-Can the news be tru shall we escape? Pisan. Nothing more certain; the not Leon. Undone-undone. Save him, dear are going in crowds to the palace—the C father, save him.

Jail. Restive! Ho! on with the handcuffs, Lazaro. The bosom friends!

and Countess have been summoned, and
already gone. The guards are on paradi
and one of the officers is now waiting be
to have the honour of escorting you,
the carriage returns.

Lor. Off with that culprit to his dungeon. Tor. Count and Countess, this is a conspiracy. I will have justice!-vengeance!- Leon. Runs to the Mirror] — Her Scoundrels! high treason!-injur'd prince!- what a bead! the damp of that odious p Pindemonté [He is carried off. has made me the very emblem of a we Ven. Let us escape. Security indeed! Here willow. - Come, sister, dear Victoria, is security with a vengeance-locks and bars-Will you wear plumes or roses? But s to find myself in a jail! Open the door! and you will conquer. You can then ret [They knock. and-take the veil, if you choose. [She attempts to arrange her DVictoria repels her.

Col. [A Bugle sounds] Officers! the call to parade. Troopers! Pride! Ha, ha, ha! Troopers! Birth-Pride! ha, ha!

[He urges the Major and

Cornet out, laughing.


Lor. Count and Ladies, farewell. We have Spirit of Love! the heart still deceiving: met for the last time. You, Victoria, have Still, on the dim eye delicious dreams wea suffered for the crime of inconstancy; you, Still, with sad pleasure the torn bosom heav Count, for the folly of being a slave to the Go! I'm thy slave and thy victim no m will of women; you, Countess, for the violence



of your temper; and all for your common Spirit of Hope! from thy light pinions shee crime, Pride! Farewell for ever. [Exil. Flowers where the steps of young Passion Vic. If sorrow shame - penitence!-Ob,| Lorenzo!-He's gone. Sunny hues over life's sullen clouds spread Leon. If I can climb the walls, or under- Here, live or die, at thy shrine I adore! mine the dungeon, or dry up the moat, or bribe the guards, my true Torrento-my un- Spirit of Joy! on those bosoms descending! fortunate Torrento shall not linger another Come, like the day-star, the weary night endin day in prison. [Aside. Come, like the bow with the summer stor blending,


Coun. Undone-insulted-laughed at-I shall never be able to hold up my head again. We) Bankrupts are inserted in the Gazette.

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Spirit of love, etc. etc.

SCENE IV. - And Last.

A Saloon in the Palace. Attendants in waiting. STEFANO, with papers.

Ste. Those documents-the similitude of his features form evidence irresistible. Now, to add conviction to conviction. Ho, Sir, has the Signior Torrento been brought from the jail? Have the Count Ventoso and his family been summoned to the palace?

you would be worthy of the throne yourself. Spy! This to a man of honour!


Ven. Friend Stefano, a man of honour
be like a debt of honour-a very roguish affair.
Coun. I insist on seeing his Highness! Keep
your distance, Sir!

Ste. Yes, Madam, if I would preserve my
before. - [Aside]—Your Prince you shall see.
- I never ran foul of such a fire-ship
You would make the best match since the fall
of Babel.
[He goes out.

at the opposite Door.

Maj. Ha, ha-A mighty fine discovery for Lorenzo-one of his fathers

Cor. Charming-Nature to the last, Majorexquisitely Hibernian!

Maj. Perhaps no such mighty blunder, after all-make it your own case, Cornet. What, angry? Poh, shake hands.

Cor. 'Pon honour, no-but by sentence of

Officer. [Outside] "Room for the Count a Court-Martial, and Countess Ventoso."

Col. Well, Lorenzo deserves it all; as capi

Ste. Come already! I shrink instinctively tal a fellow as ever wore spur. from the volley of that woman's tremendous tongue. [He walks aside. The COUNT and COUNTESS enter, led by the OFFICER. Servants range themselves in the distance.

Coun. [Sees them]-The Hussars! Ven. Are you sure we're not in jail again? Col. Ho! the Count and Countess. Come, [To Countess. don't turn away; let us be friends.

Cor. Her Ladyship! Excuse me, Colonel

Coun. Now, husband, what have you to say the Hussars never notice the Heavys 1). for your wisdom? Solomon! -The Prince's Maj. Poh, nonsense, man! Your Ladyship, seizure was clearly a conspiracy. Here we he aspires to the honour of a salute. are, by the express command of his Highness Cor. Me! Diavolo! I'll never come in con

the Prince de Pindemonté, my son-in-law!

tact with that harpy again, but in a cuirassMuffs and meerschaums!

Ven. It's all a riddle-all moonshine to me. In jail and out of jail at once! He must be a Col. Well, then, let me introduce the Maconjuror an eater of fire and a swallower of jor-He comes from the land of gallantry; small swords. But, why was I sent for here?-the country where they raise men for exI see it-to squeeze money out of me-a for-portation. ced loan.

Maj. Aye, to improve the modesty of man

Ven. But what-what were you saying of Lorenzo?

Coun. Wise head! the Prince has sent for kind, your Ladyship. my daughters. Depend upon it, there will be a wedding to-night, and this is a very pretty apartment for the ceremony. On my virtue, I should like a suite here, with a handsome pension.

Maj. He is this moment closeted with the
Viceroy,-one of the Cabinet, my dear,
Col. A grand discovery, heir to a


Ven. I don't doubt you, my love; a taste estate! In his infancy he had been sent from

for the public money is not uncommon in

either sex.

Coun. But, bless me! there's your Signior

Stefano. I before suspected him of being a

Italy with a large sum in jewels to his family banker in Cadiz-one Anselmo.

Ven. Anselmo!

Coun. Our kinsman!


Jew, but now I am sure of it. Nothing else Col. Yes; an old villain, who embezzled the could have such access to people of quality. money, and ran away with the boy to this Ste. Count, those papers-these- [Aside. island; where he brought up Lorenzo as a Coun. This is no time to talk of your af- peasant's son. The rogue died only some fairs Retire! I cannot give you my counte- months ago.

nance here.

Ven. St. Anthony!-had he no son? Ste. Retire! Countenance! Upon my honour, Col. What, am I to trace a scoundrel's Madam, your ladyship's countenance is one whole genealogy!

of the last presents that could excite my gra- Cor. But did you hear the name of the


present heir?

Ven. He can't bear for five minutes what Col. No, not I. Some old accomplice; he I have been bearing these forty years. [Aside. will be stripped of course.

Coun. He's a spy of Lorenzo's: but, rather Maj. Oh, what's the use of his name-some than give my daughter to that buff-belt, I'd old trafficker-he will be sent to the galleys, marry her to the Khan of Tartary!

to a certainty.

Ven. Now she's in for it. [Aside] - Man, Cor. Yes; if he have any hemp or ratsmake your escape. [To Stefano. bane in his establishment, he may take the Ste. Intolerable!- [Aside]-Khan of Tar- benefit of his own stock in trade. tary! Madarn, if the tongue made the Tartar, 1) Heavy horse-Dragoons.

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Col. You the heir!

Cor. Muffs and meerschaums!

Maj. Law-ruin-aye, they generally go together, my old friend.

[ACT V. Enter ATTENDANTS, announcing the VICEROY. Flourish of Music. Enter STEFANO, splendidly dressed, and attended by the llus


Coun. [Advances] Your most gracious Highroy! what have I said to him-I could bite ness. [She recognises him] Stefano the Viceoff my tongue! Ven. Well resolved, Countess; do [Aside to Ventos.

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Cor. An alliance perfectly matrimonial, Count. [Voices within] "Room for his Highness the we shall both be quiet for life. Stefano the Prince!-room!" [Laughter. viceroy!-We shall both be sent to the galleys Tor. [Within] Asses and idiots! out of my way, you pampered buffoons! Must I never [Aside. stir without a rabble of you grinning at my love affair in your family. I have certainly Ste. Count, I have heard something about a heels? [He enters] The Count and Count-no right to insist upon the Captain's being ess! Confusion! what brought them here? your son-in-law-Lorenzo, what have say for yourself?

[The Hussars stand aside, laughing.


Lor. Nothing, my Lord, [Leading Victoria but to express my delight, my happiness, a

Coun. Your Highness's commands—
Ven. Your Highness's orders-your-
Tor. I am overwhelined! I can submit to this day's discovery; my reverence, my


[They kneel

the indignity of disguise no longer.-[Aside] Count and Countess-I am no prince-nobody-nothing-but one of the thousand luck- TORRENTO and LEONORA return. less children of chance, who fight their ob-| Ven. Aye, flattery does every thing here. scure way through the world.-[Victoria and Ste. Well, Madam, as he cannot have th Leonora enter. He approaches Leonora]-honour of being your son-in-law, I am afraid We must part, my love. I am unworthy of he must be content with Rise, Sir! stand you; and from this hour I care not on what forth the son of the Viceroy of Sicily, t sea or shore fortune may fling me! Stefano, Prince de Pindemonte. Come to your Leon. No, Torrento! we part no more. I father's arms, my long-lost, late-found son, my have been unwise, and you unfortunate. But gallant son! here I swear to follow you with constancy as strong as life or death. We are one.

[They go up the Stage.

Coun. Impudence unparalleled! No Prince!
Ven. I appeal to the Viceroy. Impostor!

Lor. My father! my generous, noble father!
All. His son!-Viva! viva!
Vic. My lord and love!

Leon. Happy Victoria!

Col. The business is tolerably complete, -But, if you find her as tough a subject—as i Ste. There, Sir, go mollify the Countess Major. Their pride's down upon the knees 1), did)-[Aside] Now, take your bride, and le like a cast charger-it will carry the mark happy. beyond all cure.

Maj. Aye, like a scar on a fine woman's reputation-it will go on widening for lifeCor. They will be in no want of our trumpeters now -they will be blown every step they go.

[To Lorenz

The HUSSARS approach. Lady, we wish you all happiness. [To Victoria Officers. We congratulate you, Prince Ste. How I obtained the knowledge of son, how I preserved my incognito as Vicere till the search was complete-you shall hear at the banquet,—to which I now invite you LORENZO, and all, advance. Lor. My love, all must be forgiven and for- Lor. Fair ladies, nobles, gallant cavaliers! gotten. I have the most delightful intelligence-This day shall be a bright one in the web the happiest discovery. I have just been

Enter LORENZO, unperceived but by

with the


Wherein our lives are pictur'd-Thro' all years This shall be holiday-The prison gates Shall know no envious bars; rich pageantries Coun. The Captain! another impostor-Shall paint our love-tale; children's merry another stolen match He a man of family?

[The Countess sees him.]

the Hussar?

tongues Shall lisp our names; and old men, o'er their fires,

Lor. Countess, if honour and attachment, long tried, can entitle me to this lady's hand-Flourish their cups above their hoary heads, Vic. My father! if duty, if love, if feelings And drink our memory! Come in, sweet love pained to agony can move you— [Kneeling. Ven. Another daughter gone! By all means, Madam. What next? Is there any thing else Cornet:-[Pointing to Leonora] — No husCol. There's a fine girl on her own hands, [To Victoria you would have, Captain? We're in the jail band for the lady. again! Gang of thieves!-[To Countess]

Cor. Excuse me, Colonel, we, the Twen Sir, is there any thing about me that strikes tieth, are not connubial. But if the girl wa your taste?[Going up to the Hussars]-a husband, I'll state the circumstance on pa Or your's, Sir? - My watch and seals-my rade.-Muffs and meerschaums! purse. Does any gentleman take a fancy to the Countess? No! that stock lies on hand. 1) A horse which has fallen has generally a mark on its knee, thus losing two-thirds of its value,

Tor. Your Highness! since you have th art of finding out sons, perhaps you can find out fathers too. Pray, whose son am I? somebody's, I suppose?

Ste. In tracing the Captain, I accidentally before them! What army shall I raise? What ell in with your career. I mistook you for cabinet shall I pension? What kingdom shall ach other. I found your errors more of the I purchase? What emperor shall I annihilate? ead than the heart. You have your liberty. I'll have Mexico for a plate-chest, and the Count, you must resign your title.

Fen. With all my heart.

Ste. And, with them, Anselmo's estate.
Ven. Not the money-not the money-I
ave an old prejudice in favour of the money.
Coun. I'm thunderstruck.

Mediterranean for a fish-pond. I'll have a loan as long as from China to Chili. I'll have a mortgage on the moon! Give me the purse, let who will carry the sceptre.

Count and Countess, you shall keep your titles, and be as happy as mirth, money, and macaroni can make you.

[To Leonora and the rest.]

Ste. Torrento, stand forth; you are Anselo's heir! you are the banker's son! Maj. Then, upon my conscience, there'll be Now! to the banquet. Having fix'd our fates mighty great run on the bank. With freedom, title, fortune, loving mates!

Tor. [In Exultation] - A banker's son, If I have erred, 'twas youth, love, folly;-here, agnificent! a golden shower!-Leonora, my With generous hearts around, I scorn to fearve, we'll have a wedding worthy of bankers. Where heroes judge, and beauty pleads the What trinkets will you have? the Pitt dia


ond, or the Great Mogul? A banker, my Who talks of censure? Give me your applause. agel! 'Tis your bankers that sweep the world]

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This lady, whose maiden name was Moore, was the daughter of a clergyman, and the wife of the Rev. Joha oke, rector of Colney, in Norfolk, of St. Augustine, in the city of Norwich, and chaplain to the garrison of Quebec. r husband died Jan. 21, 1789; and she herself on the 26th of the same month, at Sleaford, at the house of her son, o had a preferment in that part of the country Mrs. Brooke was a lady of first-rate abilities, and as remarkable for tleness and suavity of manners, as for her literary talents. She wrote and published some admirable novels (among ich were, Lady Julia Mandeville, Emily Montague, Marquis of St. Forlaix, and The Excursion); a periodical ser, called The Old Maid, and a translation of Millot's Elements of the History of England.


Comic Opera, by Mrs. Brooke. Acted at Covent Garden 1785. The story of this piece is founded on that of emon and Lavinia (in Thomson's Seasons), or Boaz and Ruth, in the Scripture, and was performed with great lause. It has, however, the disadvantage of wanting the grace of novelty, and the pleasure of surprise; as must ays be the case with scriptural stories, or others of notoriety. The music, by Shield, is charming, and can never of attracting attention. Of all the petite pieces that are exhibited on the British stage, Rosina is perhaps the least nsive to the severe moralist; as it corrects the mind, while it pleases the senses,

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ENE opens and discovers a rural prospect: on the left side a little hill with trees at the top; a spring of water rushes from the side, and falls into a natural bason below: on the right side a cottage, at the door of which is a bench of stone. At a distance a chain of mountains. The manor-house in view. A field of corn fills up the scene.

the first act the sky clears by degrees, the morning vapour disperses, the sun rises, and at the end of the act is above the horizon: at the beginning of the second he is past the height, and declines till the end of the day. This progressive motion should be made imperceptibly, but its effect should be visible through the two acts.


sweetheart? But you are so proud you won' let our young men come a near you. You may live to repent being so scornful,


SCENE I. After the Trio, the Sun is seen to rise: the Door of the Cottage is open, a Lamp burning just within; DORCAS, seated on a Bench, is spinning; ROSINA When William at eve meets me down a and PHOEBE, just within the Door, are measuring Corn; WILLIAM comes from the top of the Stage; they sing the fol-Of the day I forget the labour and toil, lowing Trio.

When the rosy morn appearing
Paints with gold the verdant lawn,
Bees on banks of thime disporting,
Sip the sweets, and hail the dawn.
Warbling birds, the day proclaiming,
Carol sweet the lively strain;
They forsake their leafy dwelling,
To secure the golden grain.
See, content, the humble gleaner,
Take the scatter'd cars that fall!
Nature, all her children viewing,
Kindly bounteous, cares for all.

[William retires.
Ros. See! my dear Dorcas, what we glean'd
yesterday in Mr. Belville's field!
[Coming forward, and showing the Corn

at the Door.

Dor. Lord love thee! but take care of thyself: thou art but tender.

Ros. Indeed it does not hurt me. Shall I put out the lamp?

Dor. Do, dear; the poor must be sparing. [Rosina going to put out the Lamp, Dorcas looks after her and sighs; she returns hastily.

Ros. Why do you sigh, Dorcas? Dor. I canno' bear it: it's nothing to Phoebe and me, but thou wast not born to labour.


[Rising and pushing away the Wheel. Ros. Why should I repine? heaven, which deprived me of my parents, and my fortune, left me health, content, and innocence. is it certain that riches lead to happiness. Do you think the nightingale sings the sweeter for being in a gilded cage?

Dor. Sweeter, I'll maintain it, than the poor little linnet that thou pick'dst up half starved under the hedge yesterday, after its mother had been shot, and brought'st to life. in thy bosom. Let me speak to his honour, he's main kind to the poor.

the stile,

How sweet is the nightingale's song!

Whilst the moon plays yon branches among By her beams, without blushing, I hear him complain,

And believe every word of his song: You know not how sweet 'tis to love thr dear swain,


Whilst the moon plays yon branches
[During the last Stanza William appear
at the end of the Scene, and make
Signs to Phabe; who, when it is finish
ed, steals softly to him, and they d

Ros. How small a part of my evils is verty! And how little does Phoebe know heart she thinks insensible! the heart wh nourishes a hopeless passion. I blest, others, Belville's gentle virtues, and knew that 'twas love. Unhappy! lost Rosina!


The morn returns, in saffron drest,
But not to sad Rosina rest.
The blushing morn awakes the strain,
Awakes the tuneful choir;
But sad Rosina ne'er again

Shall strike the sprightly lyre.
Rust. [Without] To work, my hearts
oak, to work; here the sun is half an ho
high, and not a stroke struck yet.

Enter Rustic, singing, followed by Reapers




Rust. See, ye swains, yon streaks of red Call you from your slothful bed Late you till'd the fruitful soil; See! where harvest crowns your te Late you till'd the fruitful soil; See! where harvest crowns your lo Rust. As we reap the golden corn, Laughing Plenty fills her horn. What would gilded pomp avail Should the peasant's labour fail' What would gilded pomp arai! Should the peasant's labour fail? Ripen'd fields your cares repay, Sons of labour haste away; Bending, see the waving grain, Crown the year, and cheer the sw Bending, see the waving grain, Crown the year, and cheer the swa Rust. Hist! there's his honour. Where a Ros. Your age, my good Dorcas, requires all the lazy Irishmen I hir'd yesterday rest; go into the collage, whilst Phoebe and market? I join the gleaners, who are assembling from. every part of the village.

Ros. Not for the world, Dorcas, I want nothing; you have been a mother to me.

Dor. Would I could! Would I could! I ha' worked hard and 'arn'd money in my time; but now I am old and feeble, and am push'd about by every body. More's the pity, say; it was not so in my young time; but the world grows wickeder every day.



Enter BELVILLE, followed by two Irishm and Servants.

Dor. Many a time have I carried thy dear mother, an infant, in these arms; little did I 1 Irish. Is it us he's talking of, Paddy think a child of hers would live to share my Then the devil may thank him for his go poor pittance. But I wo'not grieve thee. commendations. [Dorcas enters the Cottage, looking back affectionately at Rosina.

Bel. You are too severe, Rustic; the p fellows came three miles this morning; the Pho. What makes you so melancholy, Ro- fore I made them stop at the manor-house sina? Mayhap it's because you have not a take a little refreshment.

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