[Takes up the other sword. Dan. That's excellently contrived!—it seems as if the two uncles had left their swords on purpose for them. Puff. No, egad, they could not help leaving SIR CHRISTOPER and SIR WALTER come for them. ward. Both. Hold! we will avenge you. Whisk. Hold you, or see your neices bleed." [The two Neices draw their two daggers to strike WHISKERANDOS; the two uncles, at the instant, with their two swords drawn, catch their two Neices' Arms, and turn the points of their swords to WHISKERANDOS, who immediately draws two daggers, and holds them to the two Neices' bosoms. Puff. There's situation for you! there's an heroic group!-You see the ladies can't stab Whiskerandos-he durst not strike them for fear of their uncles-the uncles durst not kill him, because of their neices: I have them all at a dead lock !-for every one of them is afraid to let go first. Sncer. Why, then, they must stand there for ever. Puff. So they would, if I hadn't a very fine contrivance for't. Now mind Enter Beefeater with his Halberd. "Whisk. Vengeance, and Tilburina. [They fight, and after the usual number of tierce Was fatal-Captain thou hast fenced well! Beef-nity-He would have added, but stern Cut short his being, and the noun at once!" Puff. O, my dear sir, you are too slow-Now mind me.-Sir, shall I trouble you to die again! Whisk. And Whiskerandos quits this bustling scene For all eter Beef. -nity-He would have added”Puff. No, sir-that's not it—once more, if you please. Whisk. I wish, sir, you would practise this without me: I can't stay dying here all night.” Puff. Very well, we'll go over it by and by. "Beef. In the queen's name I charge you all I must humour these gentlemen. to drop Your swords and daggers!" [They drop their swords and daggers. Sneer. That is a contrivance indeed. Puff. Aye-in the queen's name. "Sir C. Come, neice! Sir W. Come, neice. [Exeunt with the two Neices. Whisk. What's he, who bids us thus renounce our guard? Beef. Thou must do more-renounce thy Whisk. Thou liest-base Beefeater! [Erit WHISKERANDOS. "Beef. Farewell-brave Spaniard! and when next" Puff. Dear sir, you needn't speak that speech as the body has walked off. 66 Beef. That's true, sir-then I'll join the fleet." Puff. If you please. [Exit Beefeater. Now who comes on? Enter Governor with his air properly dis ordered. "Gov. A hemisphere of evil planets reign! And every planet sheds contagious phrenzy! My Spanish prisoner is slain! my daughter, By heaven thou'st rous'd the lion in my heart! Meeting the dead corse borne along, has gone Off yeoman's habit!-base disguise! off! off! Distract ! [A loud flourish of Trumpets. [Discovers himself by throwing off his upper But, hark! I am summoned to the fort, dress, and appearing in very fine waist-Perhaps the fleets have met ! amazing crisis! coat. Am I a Beefeater now? Or beams iny crest as terrible as when, Puff. There, egad! he comes out to be the very captain of the privateer who had taken Whiskerandos prisoner; and was himself an old lover of Tilburina's. Dan. Admirably managed, indeed! O Tilburina! from thy aged father's beard Sneer. Poor gentleman! Puff. Yes; and no one to blame but his daughter! Dan. And the planets Puff. True.-Now enter Tilburina! Sneer. Egad, the business comes on quick here. Puff. Yes, sir; now she comes in stark mad, | the Spanish Armada, otherwise, egad I have no in white satin. Sneer. Why in white satin? Puff. O lord, sir, when a heroine goes mad, she always goes into white satin-don't she, Dangle? Dan. Always-it's a rule. Puff. Yes-here it is-[ Looking at the book. Enter Tilburina stark mad, in white satin, and her confidant stark mad, in white linen." Enter TILBURINA and Confidant mad, according to costume. Sneer. But what the deuce, is the confidant to be mad too? occasion for the battle at all.-Now then for my magnificence !-my battle !-my noise!-and my procession !-You are all ready? Prom. [Within.] Yes, sir. Puff. Is the Thames drest? Enter THAMES, with two Attendants. Thames. Here I am, sir. Puff. Very well, indeed.—See, gentlemen, there's a river for you!-This is blending a little of the masque with my tragedy-a new fancy, you know, and very useful in my case; for as there must be a procession, I suppose Thames Puff. To be sure she is: the confidant is al-tannia with a fete in honour of the victory. and all his tributary rivers to compliment Briways to do whatever her mistress does; weep when she weeps, smile when she smiles, go mad when she goes mad.-Now, madam Confidant -but keep your madness in the back ground, if you please. "Til. The wind whistles-the moon rises see, They have kill'd my squirrel in his cage! He's here! He's there! He's every where!- Puff. There, did you ever desire to see any body inadder than that? Sneer. Never while I live! Puff. You observed how she mangled the metre? Dan. Yes;-egad, it was the first thing made me suspect she was out of her senses. Sneer. And pray what becoines of her? Puff. She is gone to throw herself into the sea to be sure; and that brings us at once to the scene of action, and so to my catastrophemy sea-fight I mean. Sneer. What, you bring that in at last? Puff. Yes-yes--you know my play is called Sneer. But pray, who are these gentlemen in green with him? Puff. Those?-those are his banks. other with a villa!-you take the allusions? but Puff. Yes; one crown'd with alders, and the hey! what the plague! you have got both your banks on one side-Here, sir, come round-Ever while you live, Thames, go between your banks. [Bell rings.]-There, soh! stand aside, my dear friends!—away, Thames! [Erit THAMES between his banks. [Flourish of Drums, Trumpets, Cannon, &c. &c. Scene changes to the Sea-the Fleets engage the music plays "Britons strike home."-Spanish fleet destroyed by fire ships, &c.-English fleet advances-Music plays "Rule Britannia."-The procession of all the English Rivers and their Tributaries, with their Emblems, &c. begins with Handel's Water Music, ends with a Chorus to the March in Judas Maccabæus.-During this scene, PUFF directs and applauds, every thing then Puff. Well, pretty well-but not quite perfect-so, ladies and gentlemen, if you please, we'll rehearse this piece again to-morrow. [Exeunt. Dor. Do, dear: the poor must be sparing. 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. Ros. Why should I repine? Heaven, which deprived me of my parents and my fortune, left me health, content, and innocence. Nor 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, which 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 ine speak to his honour, he's main kind to the poor. Ros. Not for worlds, Dorcas! I want nothing: you have been a mother to me. Dor. Would I could! would I could! I ha' worked hard, and earned money in my time; but now I am old and feeble, and am pushed about by every body. More's the pity, I say: it was not so in my young time; but the world grows wickeder every day. Ros. Your age, my good Dorcas, requires rest go into the cottage, whilst Phoebe and I join the gleaners, who are assembling from every part of the village. Dor. Many a time have I carried thy dear mother, an infant, in these arms: little did I think a child of her's would live to share my poor pittance. But I wo' not grieve thee. [DORCAS enters the Cottage, looking back affectionately at ROSINA. Pha. What makes you so melancholy, Rosina? maybap it's because you have not a sweetheart? but you are so proud, you won't let our young men come a near you. You may live to repent being so scornful. AIR. When William at eve meets me down at the stile, How sweet is the nightingale's song! Of the day I forget the labour and toil, Whilst the moon plays yon branches among. By her beams, without blushing, I hear him complain, And believe every word of his song: 1 Irish. Is it us he's talking of, Paddy? then You know not how sweet 'tis to love the dear the devil may thank him for his good com swain, Whilst the moon plays yon branches among. [During the last Stanza, WILLIAM appears at the end of the Scene, and makes signs to PuŒBE, who, when it is finished, steals softly to him, and they disappear. Ros. How small a part of my evils is poverty! mendations. Enter BELVILLE, with two Servants. Bel. You are too severe, Rustic, the poor fellows came three miles this morning; therefore I made them stop at the manor-house to take a little refreshment. 1 Irish. God love your sweet face, my jewel, and how little does Phœbe know the heart she ( and all those that take your part! Bad luck to myself if I would not, with all the veins of my heart, split the dew before your feet in a morning. [TO BELVILLE. Rus. If I do speak a little cross, it's for your honour's good. [The Reapers cut the corn, and make it into Sheaves. ROSINA follows, and gleans. Rus. [Seeing ROSINA.] What a dickens doth this girl do here? keep back: wait till the reapers are off the field; do like the other gleaners. Ros. [Timidly.] If I have done wrong, sir, I will put what I have gleaned down again. [She lets fall the ears she had gleaned. Bel. How can you be so unfeeling, Rustic? she is lovely, virtuous, and in want. Let fall some ears, that she may glean the more. Rus. Your honour is too good by half. Bel. No more; gather up the corn she has let fall. Do as I command you. Rus. There, take the whole field, since his honour chooses. [Putting the corn into her apron. Retires gleaning. 2 Irish. Upon my soul now, his honour's no churl of the wheat, whatever he may be of the barley. Bel. [Looking after ROSINA.] What bewitching softness! there is a blushing, bashful gentleness, and almost infantine innocence, in that lovely countenance, which it is impossible to behold without emotion! she turns this way: what bloom on that cheek! 'tis the blushing down of the peach. AIR. Her mouth, which a smile, Half opens to view, Or the blossoms of May. Enter CAPTAIN BELVILLE, in a Riding Dress. Capt. B. Good morrow, brother; you are early abroad. Bel. My dear Charles, I am happy to see you. True, I find, to the first of September. Capt. B. I meant to have been here last night; but one of my wheels broke, and I was obliged to sleep at a village six miles distant, where I left my chaise, and took a boat down the river at day-break. But your corn is not off the ground. Bel. You know our harvest is late in the north, but you will find all the lands cleared on the other side the mountain. Hark! the volley resounds to the skies! And resounds to the skies, Capt. B. [Aside.] But where is my little rustic charmer? O! there she is. I am transported! Pray, brother, is not that the little girl whose dawning beauty we admired so much last year? Bel. It is, and more lovely than ever. I shall dine in the field with my reapers to-day, brother: will you share our rural repast, or have a dinner prepared at the manor house? Capt. B. By no means; pray let me be one of your party: your plan is an admirable one, espe cially if your girls are handsome. I'll walk round the field, and meet you at dinner time. Bel. Come this way, Rustie; I have some orders to give you. [Exeunt BELVILLE and RUSTIC. [CAPTAIN BELVILLE goes up to ROSINA, gleans a few ears, and presents them to her; she refuses them; she runs out; he follows her. Enter WILLIAM, speaking at the side Scene. Will. Lead the dogs back, James, the captain won't shoot to day. [Seeing RUSTIC and PHOEBE behind.] Indeed! so close! I don't half like it. Enter RUSTIC and PHŒBE. Rus. That's a good girl! do as I bid you, and you shan't want encouragement. [He goes up to the Reapers, and WILLIAM comes forward. Will. O, no; I dare say she won't. So, Mrs. Phoebe ! Phabe. And so, Mr. William, if you go to that! Will. A new sweetheart, I'll be sworn; and |