set out, though it exposes us to a discovery. estly he entered into my griefs, you would Oli. May every thing you do prove as for- love him as I do. [A cry without, Stop him] tunate. Indeed, Leontine, we have been most Fire and fury! they have seized the incendiary: cruelly disappointed. Mr. Honeywood's bill they have the villain, the incendiary in view. upon the city has, it seems, been protested, Stop him, stop an incendiary, a murderer; and we have been utterly at a loss how to stop him. proceed.

[Exit.

Òli. Oh, my terrors! what can this new Leon. How! an offer of his own too. Sure tumult mean? he could not mean to deceive us.

Leon. Some new mark, I suppose, of Mr.

Oli. Depend upon his sincerity; he only Honeywood's sincerity; but we shall have samistook the desire for the power of serving But let us think no more of it. I wish the post-chaise was ready.

us.

tisfaction: he shall give me instant satisfaction. Oli. It must not be, my Leontine; whatever be our fate, let us not add guilt to our mis[They go up the Stage. fortunes: you must forgive him.

Leon. Forgive him! Has he not in every Enter CROAKER, unperceived. instance betrayed us? Forced me to borrow Croak. Well, while my friend Honeywood money from him, which appears a mere trick is upon the post of danger at the bar, it must to delay us? promised to keep my father enbe my business to have an eye about me here. gaged till we were out of danger, and here I think I know an incendiary's look; for wher- brought him to the very scene of our escape ? ever the devil makes a purchase, he never fails! Oli. Don't be precipitate; we may yet be to set his mark.-Ha! who have we here? My mistaken. son and daughter! What can they be doing here?

[Aside. Enter Postboy, dragging in JARVIS, followed Oli. Every moment we stay increases our by HONEYWOOD. danger, and adds more to my apprehensions. Post. Ay, master, we have him fast enough: Leon. There's no danger, if Honeywood has here is the incendiary dog. I'm entitled to the kept my father, as he promised, in employment. reward. I'll take my oath I saw him ask for Oli. My fears are from your father's sus- the money at the bar, and then run for it. picions. Honey. Come, bring him along; let us see Leon. But, believe me, Olivia, you have no him. [Discovers his Mistake] Death! what's great reason to dread his resentment. His re- here? Jarvis, Leontine, Olivia! What can all pining temper, as it does no manner of injury this mean? to himself, so will it never do harm to others; Jar. Why, I'll tell you what it means: that he only frets to keep himself employed, and I was an old fool, and that you are my mascolds for his private amusement. ster-that's all.

Oli. I don't know that; but I'm sure, on some occasions, it makes him look most shockingly.

Croak. [Discovers himself] How does he look now? How does he look now? Oli. Ah!

Leon. Undone.

Honey. Confusion.

Leon. Yes, sir, I find you have kept your word with me. After such baseness, I wonder how you can venture to see the man you have injured.

Honey. My dear Leontine, by my life, my honour

Leon. Peace, peace, for shame; I know you, sir; I know you.

Honey. Why, won't you hear me? By all that's just, I knew not

Croak. How do I look now? Sir, I am your very humble servant. Madam, I am yours. What, you are going off, are you? Then first, if you please, take a word or two from me with you before you go. Tell me first Leon. Hear you, sir! to what purpose? I where you are going? and when you have now see through all your low arts; your ever told me that, perhaps I shall know as little as complying with every opinion; your never I did before. refusing any request; your friendship as comLeon. If that be so, our answer might but mon a prostitute's favours, and as fallaincrease your displeasure, without adding to cious; all these, sir, have long been contempt your information." ible to the world, and are now perfectly so

as

Croak. I want no information from you, to me. puppy: and you too, good madam, what an- Honey. Ha! contemptible to the world! swer have you got, eh? [A cry without, Stop that reaches me. [Aside. him] I think I heard a noise. My friend, Leon. All the seeming sincerity of your Honeywood, without-has he seized the incen- professions, I now find were only allurements diary? Ah, no; for now I hear no more on't. to betray; and all your seeming regret for their Leon. Honeywood, without! Then, sir, it consequences, only calculated to cover the was Mr. Honeywood that directed you hither? cowardice of your heart. Draw, villain! Croak. No, sir, it was Mr. Honeywood

conducted me hither.

Leon. Then, sir, he's a villain.

Re-enter CROAKER, out of Breath.

Croak. How, sirrah, a villain! because he Croak. Where is the villain? Where is the takes most care of your father? Honeywood incendiary? [Seizes the Postboy] Hold him is a friend to the family, and I'll have him fast, the dog; he has the gallows in his face. Come, you dog, confess; confess all, and hang

treated as such.

Leon. I shall study to repay his friendship yourself. as it deserves.

Post. Zounds, master, what do you throttle

Croak. Ah, rogue, if you knew how earn-me for?

Croak. [Beats him] Dog, do you resist? do you resist?

Miss R. Married! to whom, sir? Croak. To Olivia; my daugter, as I took Post. Zounds, master, I'm not he; there's her to be; but who the devil she is, or whose the man that we thought was the rogue, and daughter she is, I know no more than the turns out to be one of the company. man in the moon. Croak. How? Sir W. Then, sir, it will be enough at preHoney. Mr. Croaker, we have all been un-sent to assure you, that, both in point of birth der a strange mistake here; I find there is and fortune, the young lady is at least your nobody guilty: it was all an error; entirely son's equal. Being left by her father, sir James Woodville

an error of our own.

I

Groak. What, you intend to bring 'em off, suppose; I'll hear nothing.

Honey. Madam, you seem at least calm enough to hear reason.

Oli. Excuse me.

Honey. Good Jarvis, let me then explain it to you.

Jar. What signifies explanations when the thing is done?

Croak. Sir James Woodville! What, of the west?

Sir W. Being left by him, I say, to the care of a mercenary wretch, whose only aim was to secure her fortune to himself, she was sent into France, under pretence of education; and there every art was tried to fix her for life in a convent, contrary to her inclinations. Of this I was informed upon my arrival at Paris; and, Honey. Will nobody hear me? Was there as I had been once her father's friend, I did ever such a set, so blinded by passion and all in my power to frustrate her guardian's prejudice!-My good friend, I believe you'll base intentions. I had even meditated to rebe surprised when I assure you— scue her from his authority, when your son [To the Postboy.stept in with more pleasing violence, gave her Post. Sure me nothing-I'm sure of nothing liberty, and you a daughter. but a good beating. Croak. But I intend to have a daughter of Croak. Come then, you, madam, if you ever my own choosing, sir. A young lady, sir, hope for any favour or forgiveness, tell me whose fortune, by my interest with those that sincerely all you know of this affair. have interest, will be double what my son has a right to expect. Do you know Mr. Lofty, sir?

Oli. Unhappily, sir, I'm but too much the cause of your suspicions: you see before you, sir, one that with false pretences has stept into your family to betray it; not your daughter-Croak. Not my daughter!

Oli. Not your daughter; but a mean deceiver-who-support me-I cannotHoney. Help-give her air.

to

Sir W. Yes, deceived in him. convince you.

sir; and know that you are But step this way, and I'll [Croaker and Sir William Honeywood talk apart.

Re-enter HONEY WOOD.

Croak. Ay, ay, take the young woman Honey. Obstinate man, still to persist in the air; I would not hurt a bair of her head, his outrage! Insulted by him, despised by all, whose ever daughter she may be-not so bad I now begin to grow contemptible even to as that neither. [Exeunt all but Croaker] myself. How have I sunk by too great an Yes, yes, all's out; I now see the whole af- assiduity to please! How have I overtax'd all fair: my son is either married, or going to my abilities, lest the approbation of a single be so, to this lady, whom he imposed upon fool should escape me! But all is now over; me as his sister. Ay, certainly so. And yet I have survived my reputation, my fortune, I don't find it afflicts me so much as one my friendships, and nothing remains hencemight think: there's the advantage of fretting forward for me but solitude and repentance. away our misfortunes beforehand; we never feel them when they come.

Enter MISS RICHLAND and SIR WILLIAM
HONEYWOOD.

Sir W. But how do you know, madam, that my nephew intends setting off from this place?

Miss R. Is it true, Mr. Honeywood, that you are setting off, without taking leave of your friends? The report is, that you are quitting England. Can it be?

Honey. Yes, madam, I leave you to happiness; to one who loves you, and deserves your love; to one who has power to procure you affluence, and generosity to improve your enjoyment of it.

Miss R. My maid assured me he was come to this inn; and my own knowledge of his Miss R. And are you sure, sir, that the intending to leave the kingdom, suggested the gentleman you mean is what you describe him? rest. But what do I see? my guardian here Honey. I have the best assurances of it. before us! Who, my dear sir, could have ex-As for me, weak and wavering as I have been, pected meeting you here? to what accident do we owe this pleasure?

Croak. To a fool, I believe.

Miss R. But to what purpose did you come?
Croak. To play the fool.

Miss R. But with whom?

Croak. With greater fools than myself.
Miss R. Explain.

obliged by all, and incapable of serving any, what happiness can I find but in solitude? what hope but in being forgotten?

Miss R. A thousand! to live among friends that esteem you, whose happiness it will be to be permitted to oblige you.

Honey. No, madam; my resolution is fixed. Inferiority among strangers is easy; but among Croak. Why, Mr. Honeywood brought me those that once were equals, insupportable. here, to do nothing now I am here; and my Nay, to show you how far my resolution can son is going to be married to I don't know I can go, now speak with calmness of my who, that is here; so now you are as wise as I am. former follies. I will even confess, that, among

the number of my other presumptions, I had| Croak. No, for the soul of me; I think it the insolence to think of loving you. Yes, was as confounded a bad answer as ever was madam, while I was pleading the passion of sent from one private gentleman to another. another, my heart was tortured with its own. Lofty. And so you can't find out the force Miss R. You amaze me! of the message? Why I was in the house at Honey. But you'll forgive it, I know you that very time. Ha, ha! It was I that sent wil; since the confession should not have that very answer to my own letter. Ha, ha! come from me even now, but to convince you Croak. Indeed! How? why? of the sincerity of my intention of never mentioning it more.

Lofty. In one word, things between sir [Going. William and me must be behind the curtain. A party has many eyes. He sides with lord Buzzard, I side with sir Gilbert Goose. So that unriddles the mystery.

Miss R. Stay, sir, one moment. Ha! he here!

Enter LOFTY.

Lofty. Is the coast clear? None but friends. I have followed you here with a trifling piece of intelligence: but it goes no further, things are not yet ripe for a discovery. I have spirits working at a certain board; your affair at the Treasury will be done in less than a thousand years. Mum!

Miss R. Sooner, sir, I should hope.

Lofty. Why, yes, I believe it may, if it falls into proper hands, that know where to push and where to parry; that know how the land lies. Eh, Honeywood.

Croak. And so it does indeed, and all my suspicions are over.

Lofty. Your suspicions! What then you have been suspecting, you have been suspecting, have you? Mr. Croaker, you and I were friends, we are friends no longer.

Croak. As I hope for your favour, I did not mean to of end. It escaped me. Don't be discomposed.

Lofty. Zounds, sir, but I am discomposed, and will be discomposed. To be treated thus! Who am I? Was it for this I have been Miss R. It is fallen into yours. dreaded both by ins and outs? Have I been Lofty. Well, to keep you no longer in libelled in the Gazetteer, and praised in the suspense, your thing is done. It is done, St. James's? Have I been chaired at Wildsay; that's all. I have just had assurances from lord Neverout, that the claim has been examined, and found admissible. Quietus is the word, madam.

Honey. But how? his lordship has been at Newmarket these ten days.

Lofty. Indeed! Then sir Gilbert Goose must have been most damnably mistaken. I had it of him.

Miss R. He? Why, sir Gilbert and his family have been in the country this month.

man's, and a speaker at Merchant-tailors' Hall? Have I had my hand to addresses, and my head in the print-shops, and talk to me of suspect

Croak. My dear sir, be pacified. What can you have but asking pardon?

Lofty. Sir, I will not be pacified! Suspect! Who am I? To be used thus, have I paid court to men in favour to serve my friends, the lords of the Treasury, sir William Honeywood, and the rest of the gang, and talk to me of suspect!. Who am I, I say, who am I?

Lofty. This month? It must certainly be so. Sir Gilbert's letter did come to me from New- Sir W. Since, sir, you're so pressing for an market, so that he must have met his lordship answer, I'll tell you who you are. A gentlethere; and so it came about. I have his letter man, as well acquainted with politics, as with about me, I'll read it to you. [Taking out a men in power; as well acquainted with perlarge Bundle] That's from Paoli of Corsica, sons of fashion, as with modesty; with lords that from the marquis of Squilachi. Have of the Treasury, as with truth; and with all, you a mind to see a letter from count Ponia- as you are with sir William Honeywood. I towski, now king of Poland? Honest Pon-am sir William Honeywood. [Searching] 0, sir, what are you here too? I'll tell you what, honest friend, if you have not absolutely delivered my letter to sir William Honeywood, you may return it. The thing will do without him.

Sir W. Sir, I have delivered it, and must inform you, it was received with the most mortifying contempt.

Croak. Contempt! Mr. Lofty, what can that mean?

[Discovers his Ensigns of the Bath. Croak. Sir William Honeywood! Honey. Astonishment! my uncle! [Aside. Lofty. So then my confounded genius has been all this time only leading me up to the garret, in order to fling me out of the window.

Croak. What, Mr. Importance, and are these your works? Suspect you! You who have been dreaded by the ins and outs: you who have had your hand to addresses, and your head stuck up in print-shops. If you were served right, you should have your head stuck up in the pillory.

Lofty. Let him go on, let him go on, I say. You'll find it come to something presently. Sir W. Yes, sir, I believe you'll be amazed, if, after waiting some time in the anti-chamber, Lofty. Ay, stick it where you will, for, by after being surveyed with insolent curiosity by the Lord, it cuts but a very poor figure where the passing servants, I was at last assured, it sticks at present.

that sir William Honeywood knew no such Sir W. Well, Mr. Croaker, I hope you person, and I must certainly have been im- now see how incapable this gentleman is of posed upon.

Lofty. Good; let me die, very good. ha, ha!

Croak. Now, for my life, I can't find half the goodness of it.

Lofty. You can't? Ha, ha!

serving you, and how little miss Richland has Ha, to expect from his influence.

out

Croak. Ay, sir, too well I see it, and I can't but say I have had some boding of it these ten days. So I'm resolved, since my son has placed his affections on a lady of moderate

ever,

and OLIVIA.

fortune, to be satisfied with his choice, and which may give strength to the mind, and not run the hazard of another Mr. Lofty, in marshal all its dissipated virtues. Yet, ere I helping him to a better. depart, permit me to solicit favour for this Sir W. I approve your resolution; and here gentleman; who, notwithstanding what has they come to receive a confirmation of your happened, has laid me under the most signal pardon and consent. obligations. Mr. LoftyLofty. Mr. Honeywood, I'm resolved u on Re-enter MRS. CROAKER, JARVIS, LEONTINE, a reformation, as well as you. I now begin to find, that the man who first invented the Mrs. C. Where's my husband? Come, come, art of speaking truth was a much cunninger lovey, you must forgive them. Jarvis here fellow than I thought him. And to prove that has been to tell me the whole affair; and, I design to speak truth for the future, I must say, you must forgive them. Our own was now assure you, that you owe your late ena stolen match, you know, my dear; and we largement to another; as, upon my soul, I never had any reason to repent of it. had no hand in the matter. So now, if any Croak. I wish we could hoth say so: how-of the company has a mind for preferment, this gentleman, sir William Honey- he may take my place. I'm determined to wood, has been beforehand with you in ob- resign. [Exil. taining their pardon. So, if the two poor fools Honey. How have I been deceived? have a mind to marry, I think we can tack Sir W. No, sir, you have been obliged to them together without crossing the Tweed for it. a kinder, fairer friend for that favour. To [Joining their Hands. miss Richland. Would she complete our joy, Leon. How blest, and unexpected! What, and make the man she has honoured by her what can we say to such goodness? But our friendship happy in her love, I should then future obedience shall be the best reply. And, forget all, and be as blest as the welfare of as for this gentleman, to whom we owe- my dearest kinsman can make me. Sir W. Excuse me, sir, if I interrupt your Miss R. After what is past, it would be but thanks, as I have here an interest that calls affectation to pretend to indifference. Yes, I me. [Turning to Honeywood] Yes, sir, you will own an attachment, which I find was are surprised to see me; and I own that a more than friendship. And if my entreaties desire of correcting your follies led me hither. cannot alter his resolution to quit the country, I saw, with indignation, the errors of a mind I will even try if my hand has not power to that only sought applause from others; that detain him.

[Giving her Hand. easiness of disposition, which, though inclined Honey. Heavens! how can I have deserved to the right, had not courage to condemn the all this? How express my happiness, my grawrong. I saw, with regret, those splendid titude? A moment like this overpays an age errors, that still took name from some neigh- of apprehension.

bouring duty. Your charity, that was but in- Croak. Well, now I see content in every justice; your benevolence, that was but weak-face; but heaven send we be all better this ness; and your friendship but credulity. I saw, day three months.

with regret, great talents and extensive learning. Sir W. Henceforth, nephew, learn to respect only employed to add sprightliness to error, yourself. He who seeks only for applause and increase your perplexities. I saw your from without, has all his happiness in another's mind with a thousand natural charms: but the keeping. greatness of its beauty served only to heighten Honey. Yes, sir, I now too plainly perceive my pity for its prostitution. my errors: My vanity, in attempting to please Honey. Cease to upbraid me, sir; I have all, by fearing to offend any. My meanness for some time but too strongly felt the justice in approving folly, lest fools should disapprove. of your reproaches. But there is one way Henceforth, therefore, it shall be my study to still left me. Yes, sir, I have determined, this reserve my pity for real distress; my friendvery hour, to quit for ever a place where I ship for true merit; and my love for her, have made myself the voluntary slave of all; who first taught me what it is to be happy. and to seek among strangers that fortitude|

[Exeunt

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER,

or, The Mistakes of a Night; Comedy by Oliver Goldsmith, acted at Covent-Garden 1773. When this piece was originally brought forward, the taste of the nation had sickened with a preposterous love for what was termed sentmental comedy; that is, a dramatic composition, in which the ordinary business of life, which, in a free country, like Great Britain, produces such a diversity of character, was to be superseded by an unnatural affectation of polished dialogue, in which the usages and singularities of the multitude were to be nearly, if not altogether, rejected. This false taste was borrowed from France; where it was the practice then, more than at the present day, to keep, what they were pleased to term, the higher order of comedy, in a material sense unconnected with the unshackled ebullitiars of nature; and Kelly, and others, were enforcing this principle with ardour, when Oliver Goldsmith planted the standard of Thalia on the boards of Covent-Garden Theatre, and banished, triumphantly, those mawkish monsters of inshine, which were tending to make sentiment ridiculous, by dissolving its ties with common incidents, and thereby rend:riag it somewhat independent of social virtue, by weakening its moral interest. The elder Colman, whose theatrical judg ment was highly esteemed by the critical world, had suffered himself to be so inoculated with this sentimental i fluenza of the mind, that he rather tolerated this comedy from a respect to the author, than encouraged it from a pe of its success; even the actors caught the contagion; and Woodward and Smith, who were designed to play Tony Lumpkin and Young Marlow, resigned their parts, it was to this fanciful resignation that Quick and Lee Lewes owed

much of their early celebrity; for, contrary to the declarations of the knowing ones, John Bull welcomed this comedy with cheers; and, by the aid of Goldsmith, Nature and Laughter resumed their honours on the British stage. We know that this piece is, by some critics, considered as a farce; but still it must be ranked among the farces of a man of genius. One of the most ludicrous circumstances it contains (that of the robbery) is borrowed from Albumazar. It met with great success, and is still frequently acted.

ACT I.

humour. Come, Mr. Hardcastle, you must

SCENE I. A Chamber in an old-fashioned allow the boy a little humour.

House.

Hard. I'd sooner allow him an horsepond. If burning the footman's shoes, frighting the Enter HARDCASTLE and MRS. HARDCASTLE. maids, worrying the kittens, be humour, he Mrs. H. I vow, Mr. Hardcastle, you're very has it. It was but yesterday he fastened my particular. Is there a creature in the whole wig to the back of my chair, and when I went country, but ourselves, that does not take a to make a bow, I popp'd my bald head into trip to town now and then to rub off the rust Mrs. Frizzle's face.

a little? There's the two miss Hoggs, and our Mrs. H. And am I to blame? The poor boy neighbour, Mrs. Grigsby, go to take a month's was always too sickly to do any good. A polishing every winter. school would be his death. When he comes

Hard. Ay, and bring back vanity and affec-to be a little stronger, who knows what a tation to last them the whole year. I wonder year or two's Latin may do for him? why London cannot keep its own fools at Hard. Latin for him! a cat and a fiddle. home. In my time, the follies of the town No, no, the alehouse and the stable are the crept slowly among us, but now they travel only schools he'll ever go to.

faster than a stage-coach. Its fopperies come Mrs. H. Well, we must not snub the poor down, not only as inside passengers, but in boy now; for I believe we shan't have him the very basket. long among us. Any body that looks in his face may see he's consumptive.

Mrs. H. Ay, your times were fine times indeed; you have been telling us of them for many a long year. Here we live in an old rumbling mansion, that looks for all the world like an inn, but that we never see company. Our best visitors are old Mrs. Oddfish, the curate's wife, and little Cripplegate, the lame dancingmaster; and all our entertainment your old stories of prince Eugene and the duke of Marlborough. I hate such old-fashioned trumpery.

Hard. And I love it. I love every thing that's old: old friends, old times, old manners, old books, old wine; and I believe, Dorothy, [Taking her Hand] you'll own I have been pretty fond of an old wife.

Mrs. H. Lord, Mr. Hardcastle, you're for ever at your Dorothy's, and your old wives. You may be a Darby, but I'll be no Joan, I promise you. I'm not so old as you'd make me by more than one good year. Add twenty to twenty, and make money of that.

Hard. Let me see; twenty added to twenty makes just fifty and seven.

Hard. Ay, if growing too fat be one of the symptoms.

Mrs. H. He coughs sometimes. Hard. Yes, when his liquor goes the wrong way.

Mrs. H. I'm actually afraid of his lungs. Hard. And truly so am I; for he sometimes whoops like a speaking-trumpet-[Tony hallooing behind the Scenes]-O there he goes-A very consumptive figure, truly.

Enter TONY, crossing the Stage.

Mrs. H. Tony, where are you going, my charmer? Won't you give papa and I a little of your company, lovee?

Tony. I'm in haste, mother, I can't stay. Mrs. H. You shan't venture out this raw evening, my dear; you look most shockingly. Tony. I can't stay, I tell you. The Three Pigeons expect me down every moment. There's some fun going forward.

Hard. Ay; the alehouse, the old place: I thought so.

Mrs. H. Its false, Mr. Hardcastle: I was but Mrs. H. A low, paltry set of fellows. twenty when I was brought to bed of Tony, Tony. Not so low, neither. There's Dick that I had by Mr. Lumpkin, my first husband; Muggins the exciseman, Jack Slang the horseaud he's not come to years of discretion yet. doctor, little Aminidab that grinds the music Hard. Nor ever will, I dare answer for box, and Tom Twist that spins the pewter him. Ay, you have taught him finely.

Mrs. H. No matter; Tony Lumpkin has a good fortune. My son is not to live by his learning. I don't think a boy wants much learning to spend fifteen hundred a year. Hard. Learning, quotha! a mere composition of tricks and mischief.

Mrs. H. Humour, my dear; nothing but

platter.

Mrs. H. Pray, my dear, disappoint them for one night at least.

Tony. As for disappointing them, I should not so much mind: but I can't abide to disappoint myself.

Mrs. H. [Detaining him] You shan't go.
Tony. I will, I tell you.