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Jaff. Could

iny nature e'er
Have brook'd injustice or the doing wrong,
I need not now thus low have bent myself
To gain a hearing from a cruel father.
Wrong'd you !

Pri. Yes, wrong'd me. In the nicest point,
The honour of my house, you've done me wrong.
When

you firft came home from travel,
With such hopes as made you look'd on
By all mens eyes a youth of expectation,
Pleas'd with your seeming virtue, I received you)
Courted, and sought to raise you to your merits ;
My honfe, my table, nay, my fortune too,
My very self was yours: you might have us’d me
To your best service ; like an open friend
I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine :
When, in requital of my buit endeavours,
You treacherously practis'd to undo me;
Seduc'd the weakness of my age's darling,
My only child, and stole her from my bosom.

Jaff 'Tis to me you owe her:
Childless

you

had been elle, and in the grave
Your name extinet ; no more Priuli heard of.
You may remember, scarce five years are past,
Since in your brigantine you fail'd to see
The Adriatic wedded by our Duke ;
And I was with you. Your unskilful pilot
Dafh'd us upon a rock; when to your boat
You made for safety ; enter'd first yourfelf:
Th'affrighted Belvidera, following next,
As she stood trembling on the vessel's fide,
Was by a wave wash'd off into the deep;
When instantly I plunged into the fea,
And, buffeting the billows to her rescue,
Redeem'd her life with half the loss of mine.
Like a rich conquest, in one hand I bore her,
And, with the other, dath'd the saucy waves,
That throng'd and press'd to rob me of my prize.
I brought her; gave her to your despairing arms :
Indeed you thank'd me: but a nobler gratitude
Rofe in her soul ; for from that hour she lov'd me,
Till, for her life, the paid me with herself.
D : 2

Pria

Pri. You stole her from me ; life a thief, you stole

her
At dead of night : that cursed hour you chose
To rifle me of all my heart held dear.
May all your joys in her prove falfe like mine ;
A fteril fortune and continual discord make
Your days and nights bitter and grievous ftill:
May the hard hand of a vexatious need
Oppress and grind you; till, at last, you find
The curse of disobedience all your portion.

Jaff: 'Half of your curse you have bestow'd in vain ;
Heav'n has already crown'd our faithful loves
With a young boy, sweet as his mother's beauty,
May he live to prove more gentle than his grandfire,
And happier than his father.

Pri. No more.

faff. Yes, all; and, then--adieu for ever. There's not a wretch, that lives on common charity, But's happier than I : for I have known The luscious sweets of plenty ; every night Have slept with soft content about my head, And never wak'd but to a joyful morning : Yet now must falls; like a full ear of corn, Whose blossom ’scap’d, yet's wither'd in the ripening.

Pri. Home, and be humble ; study to retrench; Discharge the lazy vermin of thy hail, Those pageants of thy folly ; Reduce the glittring trappings of thy wife To humble weeds, fit for thy little state: Then to some suburb cottage both retire: Drudge to feed loathsome life; get brats and starte. Home, home, I say.-

[Exita Jalf. Yes, if my heart would let mem This proud, this swelling heart : home I would go, But that my doors are hateful to my eyes, Fillid and damm'd up with gaping creditors. I've now not fifty ducats in the world; Yet ftill I am in love, and pleas'd with ruin. Oh, Belvidera!-Oh! she is

my

wife And we will bear our wayward fate togetherBut ne'er know comfort more.

IV. Boniface

IV. Boniface and Ainswell.
Bon. THIS way, this way, Sir:
Aim.

You're my landlord I suppose. Bon. Yes, Sir, I'm old Will Boniface ; pretty well known upon this road, as the saying is.

Air. O, Mr Boniface, your servant.

Bon. O, Sir What will your honour please to drink, as the saying is ?

Aim. I have heard your town of Litchfield much famed for ale : I think I'll taste that.

Bon, Sir, I have now in my cellar ten ton of the best ale in Staffordfhire : 'tis smooth as oil, sweet as milk, clear as amber, and strong as brandy; and will be just fourteen years old the fifth day of next March, old style,

Aim. You're very exact, I find, in the age of your ale.

Bon. As punctual, Sir, as I am in the age of my children: I'll show you fuch ale ! -Here, Tapster, broach number 1706, as the saying is.—Sir, you shall. tafte my anno domini.-I have lived in Litchfield, man and boy, above eight-and-fifty years, and, I believe, have not consumed eight-and-fifty ounces of meat.

Aim. At a meal, you mean, if one may guess by

Bon. Not in my life, Sir : I have fed purely upon ale : I have eat my ale, drunk my ale, and I always. sleep upon ale.

[Enter Tapster with a tankard. Now, Sir, you shall seeYour worhip’s health : [drinks]-Ha! delicious, delicious !_Fancy it Burgundy, only fancy it,--and ’tis worth ten shillings a quart.

Aim. [drinks.] 'Tis confounded strong, Bon. Strong ! it must be so, or how should we be trong that drink it ?.

Aim. And have you lived so long upon this ale, lande lord ?

Bon. Eight-and-fifty years, upon my credit, Sir : but. it kill'd my wife, poor woman, as the saying is.

Aim. How came that to pass !

Bon. I don't know how, Sir,- he would not let the ale' take its natural course, Şir: fhe was for qualifying jt every now and then with a dram, as the saying is; D.d 3

and

your bulk.

and an honest gentleinan that came this way from Ire. land, made her a present of a dozen bottles of ufquebaugh—but the poor woman was never well after-but, however, I was obliged to the gentleman, you know.

Aime. Why, was it the usquebaugh that killed her ?

Bon. My lady Bountiful said fo-She, good lady, did what could be done : fhe cured her of three tympanies; but the fourth carried her off. But she's happy, and I'm contented, as the saying is.

Aim. Who's that lady Bountiful you mentioned ? Bon. Odd's my life, Sir, we'll drink her health: [drinks.]-My lady Bountiful is one of the best of women. Her last husband, Sir Charles Bountiful, left her: worth a thousand pounds a-year; and I believe the lays out one half on't in charitable uses for the good of her neighbours.

Aim. Has the lady been any other way useful in her generation ?

Bon. Yes, Sir, she has a daughter by Sir Charles the finest woman in all, our county, and the greatest fortune. She has a son too, by her firft husband, 'fquire Sullen, who married a fine lady from London t'otherday: if you please, Sir, we'll drink his health. [Drinks.

Aim. What sort of a man is he?

Bon. Why, Sir, the man's well enough ; fays little, thinks less, and does nothing at all, faith.: but he's a: man of great estate, and values nobody..

Aim. A sportsman, I suppose ?

Box. Yes, he's a man of pleasure ; he plays at whift, and smokes his pipe eight-and-forty hours together sometimes.

Aim. A fine sportsman, truly! and married...you : fay?

Bor. Ay; and to a curious woman, Sir. But he's my landlord ; and so a man, you know, would notSir, my humble service to you. [drinks..)-Though I value not a farthing what he can do to me: I pay him. his rent at quarter day ; I have a good running trade; I have but one daughter; and I can give her-out no matter for that..

Aim. You're very happy, Mr Boniface : pray, what : ather.company have you in town?

Bon. A power of fine ladies ; and then we have the French officers.

Ain. O that's right, you have a good many of those gentlemen : pray, how do you like their company?

Bon. So well, as the saying is, that I could wish we had as many more of them. They're full of money, and pay double for every thing they have. They know, Sir, that we paid good round taxes for the taking of 'em; and fo they are willing to reimburse us a little : one of 'em Jodges in my house. [Bell rings.] I beg your worship's pardon-l'll wait on you again in half a minute.

V. Lovegold and Lappet. Love. ALL's well' hitherto ; my dear money is fafe.

- Is it you, Lappet? L'ap. I should rather ask if it be you, Sir : why, you look fo young and vigorous

Love. Do I, Do I?!
Lap. Why, you grow younger and younger every
Sir:.

:- you never looked half so young in your life, Sir, as you do now. Why, Sir, I know fifty yoimg. fellows of five-and-twenty that are older than you are.

Love. That may be, that may be, Lappet, considering the lives they lead ; and yet I am a good ten years: above fifty.

Lap. Well, and what's ten years above fifty ? 'tis the very flower of a man's age. Why, Sir, you are now in. the very prime of your life.

Lous. Very true, that's very true, as to understand. ing; but I am afraid, could I take off twenty years, it. would do me, no harm with the ladies, Lappet.-How goes on our affair with Mariana ? Have you mentioned any thing about what her mother can give her? For,, now-a-days, nobody marries a woman unless the bring something with her besides a petticoat:

Lap. Sir, why, Sir, this young lady will be worth to you as good a thousand pound: a-year as ever was told.

Love. How! a thousand pound'a-year?

Lap. Yes, Sir. There's, in the first place, the ar. ticle of a table.: she has a very little ftomach ; lhe does

day,

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