I fhall conclude with an extract or two from the catastrophe of The Fatal Dowry; and firft, for the penitence of Beaumelle, I fhall felect only the following speech, addreffed to her husband :

I dare not move you

To hear me Speak. I know my fault is far
Beyond qualification or excufe;
That 'tis not fit for me to hope, or you
To think of mercy; only I prefume
To intreat you wou'd be pleas'd' to look
My forrow for it, and believe these tears
Are the true children of my grief, and not
A woman's cunning,

upon

I need not point out the contrast between this and the quotations from Califta. It will require a longer extract to bring the conduct of Rochfort into comparison with that of Sciolto: The reader will obferve rhat Novall's dead body is now on the fcene, Charalois, Beaumelle, and Rochfort her father, are prefent. The charge of adultery is urged by Charalois, and appeal is made to the juftice of Rochfort in the cafe.

Rochfort. What answer makes the prifoner?
Beaumelle. I confefs

The

The fact I'm charg'd with, and yield myself.
Moft miferably guilty.

Rochfort. Heaven take mercy

Upon your foul then! It must leave your body
-Since that the politic law provides that fervants,
To whofe care we commit our goods, fhall die
If they abufe our trust; what can you look for,
To whofe charge this most hopeful Lord gave up
All he receiv'd from his brave ancestors,
All he cou'd leave to his pofterity?

His honour-Wicked woman! in whofe fafety
All his life's joys and comforts were lock'd up,
Which thy luft, a thief, hath now ftolen from him!
And therefore an

Charalois. Stay, just Judge-May not what's lo
By her one fault (for I am charitable,

And charge her not with many) be forgotten
In her fair life hereafter?

Rochfort. Never, Sir!

The wrong that's done to the chafte married bed,
Repentant tears can never expiate :

And be affur'd to parden fuch a fin,
Is an offence as great as to commit it.

In confequence of this the hufband strikes her dead before her father's eyes: The act indeed is horrid; even tragedy fhrinksfrom it, and Nature with a father's voice inftantly cries out-Is fhe dead then ?-and you have kill'd her ?-Charalois avows it, and pleads his fentence for the deed; the revolting

X

revolting, agonized parent breaks forth into one of the moft pathetic, natural and expreffive lamentations, that the English drama can produce

-But I pronounc'd it

As a Fudge only, and a friend to justice,
And, zealous in defence of your wrong'd honour,
Broke all the ties of nature, and caft off
The love and foft affection of a father:
I in your caufe put on a scarlet robe
Of red dy'd cruelty; but in return
You have advanc'd for me no flag of mercy :
*I look'd on you as a wrong'd husband, but
You clos'd your eyes against me as a father.
Oh, Beaumelle! Oh, my daughter !—
Charalois. This is madness.

Rochfort. Keep from me!-Cou'd not one good

thought rife up

To tell you that he was my age's comfort,

Begot by a weak man, and born a woman,
And cou'd not therefore but partake of frailty?
Or wherefore did not thankfulness step forth
To urge my many merits, which I may
Object to you, fince you prove ungrateful?
Flinty-hearted Charalois!--

Charalois. Nature does prevail above your virtue.

What conclufions can I draw from thefe comparative examples, which every reader: would not anticipate? Is there a man, who

has

has any feeling for real nature, dramatic character, moral fentiment, tragic pathos or nervous diction, who can hesitate, even for a moment, where to bestow the palm?

I

No. LXXX.

WAS fome nights ago much entertained with an excellent reprefentation of Mr. Congreve's comedy of The Double Dealer.. When I reflected upon the youth of the author and the merit of the play, I acknowledged the truth of what the late Dr. Samuel Johnfon fays in his life of this poet, that among all the efforts of early genius, which literary hiftory records, I doubt whether any one can be produced that more furpaffes the common limits of nature than the plays of Congreve.

The author of this comedy in his dedication informs us, that he defigned the moral firft, and to that moral invented the fable; and does not know that he has borrowed one hint of it any where.-I made the plot, fays he, as ftrong as I could; because it was fingle;

and

and I made it fingle because I would avoid confufion, and was refolved to preserve the three unities of the drama. As it is impoffible not to give full credit to this affertion, I muft confider the refemblance which many circumstances in The Double Dealer bear to thofe in a comedy of Beaumont and Fletcher, intitled Cupid's Revenge, as a cafual coincidence; and I think the learned biographer above quoted had good reason to pronounce of Congreve, that he is an original writer, who borrowed neither the models of his plot, nor the manner of his dialogue.

Mellafont, the nephew and heir of Lord Touchwood, being engaged to Cynthia, daughter of Sir Paul Pliant, the traverfing this match forms the object of the plot, on which this comedy of The Double Dealer is conftructed; the intrigue confists in the various artifices employed by Lady Touchwood and her agents for that purpofe.

That the object is (as the author himself ftates it to be) fingly this, will appear upon confidering, that although the ruin of Mellafont's fortune is for a time effected by thefe contrivances, that are employed for traverfing his marriage, yet it is rather a

measure