matters whuch distemper laid him there. brey does not sign my pardon, I am disposed Bridge. That's true, that's true enough. not only to condemn, but execute.

Pray you sit down; I'll just run up and tell Mort. Away then, and throw yourself upon my wife and daughter-Zooks! suppose I the mercy of the court; it is the fate of bungbrought them with me; will they meet a wel- lers to be asking pardon.

come, think you?

Enter COLIN.

Colin. Ay, sic a one as you don't look for, take my word. Colin. Bless you, gude maister Mortimer, I Bridge. I'm a new man; I walk upon the hanna' slept in your commission: yon fat fel[Exit hastily. low upon Fishstreet-hill is on his march with

air.

Colin. Ecod, the project takes; I drew for the cock bird, and have taken the whole covey. Enter NAPTHALL, hastily.

Napth. Odds my life, Mr. Bridgemore, I forgot-Who's there? that devil Scotchman. Colin. Hold, hold! friend Napthali; you aud I munna part; you must keep pace wi' me to maister Mortimer's.

bag and baggage.

Mort. What mean you? Does he bring his wife with him?

Colin. Troth does he, and his daughter too; the plot is thick'ning you mun know apace, and yon same buzzard canna' spy it out. Mort. What plot is thick'ning?

Colin. Zooks, mon, you shall behold as pretty a discovery, come the time, as ever your eyes look'd upon; but aw things in their course; I

Napth. To Mr. Mortimer's? Impossible: why I must be at Bank, sir, I must be at Jo- mun gang home the whilst, but I'll be quickly nathan's: I've forty bargains to settle. I shall bock again, d'ye see.

have half the Coffee-house on my back. Would Mort. Do so, my friend; and hark'e, tell you make me a lame 1) duck?

Colin. Duck, or no duck, ecod, sir, you must travel. [Drags him out.

Enter LUCINDA.

your lord I beg half an hour's conversation with him, when and where he pleases.

Colin. I shall do that; but you mun know, while I was on my way, I cross'd upon a gentleman of no vulgar presence, and considering he has sojourned for a pretty many years with none but such as we denominate barbarians, as courteous in his manners as

Luc. Hey-day! I never saw the like before; I can't think what possesses my father; he's intoxicated; quiet beside himself with this confirmation of Mr. Aubrey's death: for my part, your heart could wish.

what of him?

I derive no particular gratification from it; so Mort. Why that accounts for it. Well, that Augusta had but one lover less, I care not if she had forty fathers living: Tyrrel's Colin. With your leave, maister Mortimer, the man of her heart, and in truth he is an he'll tell you his own errand: troth, he wull'd1) object worthy any woman's preference; If I me introduce him to you: he's without. could draw him from her 'twould be full re- Mort. Admit him.

Colin. Gude faith, he has done that for himsall; he's not habituated to our ceremonies. Maister Mortimer, I pray heaven take you to its holy keeping till I see you again. [Exit.

Enter AUBREY.

Aub. Sir, your most humble servant. Can you forgive the intrusion of a stranger? Mort. A stranger, sir, is welcome: I cannot always say as much to an acquaintance. Aub. I plainly see your experience of mankind by the value you put upon them.

Mort. True, sir; I've visited the world from arctic to ecliptic, as a surgeon does an hospital, and find all men sick of some distemper: the impertinent part of mankind are so busy, the busy so impertinent, and both so incurably addicted to lying, cheating, and be

Mort. Never tell me, you've acted like a traying, that their case is desperate: no corgiddy hot young man; put a few hear-say rosive can cat deep enough to bottom the corcircumstances together, shook 'em in an empty ruption. noddle, and so produced a compound of nonsense and suspicion.

Aub. Well, sir, with such good store of mental provision about you, you may stand

Tyr. I plainly see I've judg'd too hastily. out a siege against society; your books are Mort. Judg'd! pooh, I would not give a companions you never can be tir'd of. rush for such a judge: a magpie in a cage, Mort. Why truly their company is more that chatters out whore to every woman that tolerable than that of their authors would be; goes by, will be as often right as you, and I can bear them on my shelves, though I judge as wisely: never talk to me of judging should be sorry to see the impertinent_pupothers, till you've condemn'd yourself. pies who wrote them: however, sir, I can Tyr. I do condemn myself; and if miss Au-quarrel with my books too, when they offend 1) Atame duck is one who does not fulul his engage my virtue or my reason.-But I'm taking up

your time; the honest Scotchman, who an-honest man, I am best pleased with the connounc'd you, told me you had something of fusion of a rascal.

importance to communicate to me.

Aub. I have: I'm told I am your debtor, and I came with a design to pay you down such thanks as your benevolence well merits; but I perceive already you are one, whom great professions would annoy, whose principle is virtue, and whose retribution rises from within.

Mort. Pray, sir, no more of this; if you have any thing to request, propose it: I'd rather much be told what I may do for you, than reminded of what I may have done.

Tyr. I had a petition to prefer, on which my happiness in life depends.

Aub. I beg I may retire: I interrupt you. Mort. By no means: I desire you will not Aub. I readily believe you, and according stir; let him make his request; if it is not fit to your humour will address you: I own you for you to hear, it is not fit for me to grant. may confer a benefit upon me: 'tis in your Speak out: nay, never hesitate. power, Mr. Mortimer, to make me happiest Tyr. What can I ask of you but to conof all mankind. firm my hopes, and make miss Aubrey mine? Mort. Give me your hand; why now you Mort. Was ever the like heard? Pray whence speak good sense; I like this well: let us do do you derive pretensions to miss Aubrey? good, sir, and not talk about it: show me but Tell me in presence of this gentleman. how I may give happiness to you, with in- Tyr. Not from my own deservings, I connocence to myself, and I shall be the person fess; yet, if an ardent, firm, disinterested pas

under obligation.

Aub. This then it is; you have a young person under your protection, a lady of the name of Aubrey

Mort. I have.

Aub. Resign her to my care.
Mort. Sir!

Aub. Put her into my hands: I am
I can support her.

rich, sir,

sion, sanctified by her consent, can recommend me, I am not without some title.

Mort. Look you there now: this fellow you shall know, sir, is my nephew; my sister's son; a child of fortune.-Hark'e, with what face do you talk of love, who are not worth a groat?

Tyr. You have allow'd me, sir, to talk of love; openly, beneath your eye, I have soli

Mort. You're insolent, or grossly ignorant, cited miss Aubrey's consent and gain'd it; as to think I would betray a trust, a sacred trust: for my poverty, in that I glory, for therein I she is a ward of virtue; 'tis from want, 'tis resemble her whom I adore; and I should hope, from oppression, I protect miss Aubrey-who though fortune has not favour'd us, we have are you, that think to make a traitor of me? not lost our title to the rights of nature.

Aub. Your zeal does honour to you; yet Mort. Pooh! the rights of nature! While if you persist in it, and spite of my protest you enjoy it's rights, how will you both prohold out, your constancy will be no virtue; vide against its wants?

it must take another name.

Tyr. Your bounty hitherto has let me feel Mort. What other name, and why? Throw no wants; and should it be your pleasure to

off your mystery, and tell me why.

Aub. Because

Mort. Ay, let us hear your cause.
Aub. Because I am her father.

Mort. Do I live?

withdraw it, thanks to Providence, the world is not so scantily provided but it can give to honest industry a daily dinner.

Mort. Fine words! But I'll appeal to this good gentleman; let him decide betwixt us. Aub. In truth, young gentleman, your uncle has good reason on his side; and was I he,

Aub. Yes, in my heart, while I have life or memory; that dear injur'd girl, whom you so honourably protect, is my daughter. The I never would consent to your alliance with overflowings of a father's heart bless and re- miss Aubrey, till she brought a fortune large ward you! You whom I know not, and that enough to keep you both. poor Highlander, out of his small pittance, Tyr. These are your maxims I've no doubt; have under Providence preserv'd my child; they only prove to me that you love money

whilst Bridgemore, whom I rais'd from penury and trusted with the earnings of my travel, has abandoned and defrauded her.

Mort. O mother nature, thou'lt compel me to forswear thee.

laid a

a

more than beauty, generosity, or honour. Aub. But is your lady in possession of all these? Let me be made acquainted with her, and perhaps I may come over to your sentiments.

Aub. Ah, sir, you feel the villany of man Mort. Ay, Frank, go fetch your girl, and in every vein; I am more practised, and be- let my friend here see her; I'm in earnest. hold it only with sigh: Colin and I have Upon my honour, nephew, till you've gain'd little plot to draw this Bridgemore hi- this gentleman's co consent, you never can have ther; he believes me dead, and thinks he is mine; so go your ways, and let us see if you to meet a person at your house, who can re- have interest enough to bring her hither. late particulars of my death; in which case Tyr. Oh! if my fate depends upon her it is clear he means to sink a capital consign- looks, they must be iron hearts that can withment I sent him about three years since, and stand 'em. turn my daughter on the world.

[Exit.

Aub. The manly and disinterested passion Mort. Well, let him come; next to the sa- of this youth, while it prepossesses me strongly tisfaction I receive in the prosperity of an in his favour, gives an assurance of a virtuous conduct in my child: indeed, sir, I am else! But look, she changes again-Help me greatly taken with your nephew.

to lead her into the air. Mort. Thank heaven, the boy as yet has [Tyrrel and Aubrey lead her out. never made me blush; and, if he holds his Mort. I believe a little air will not be much course, he may take one half of my fortune amiss for any of us. Look at that girl; 'tis now, and t'other at my death-But see, sir, thus mortality encounters happiness; tis thus here your daughter comes.

the inhabitant of earth meets that of heaven, with tears, with faintings, with surprise: let Re-enter TYRREL, introducing Miss AUBREY. others call this the weakness of our nature; Tyr. You are obeyed; you see the lady, to me it proves the unworthiness; for had and you've nothing now to wonder at, but we merits to entitle us to happiness, the means my presumption. would not be wanting to enjoy it. [Exit.

Aub. To wonder at! I do behold a wonder! 'Tis her mother's image! Gracious Providence, this is too much!

Mort. You will alarm her; your disorder is too visible. Aub. I cannot speak to her; I pray you let

me hear her voice.

Aug. Why am I sent for? Is your uncle angry? How have I offended?

Aub. Hush, hush, she speaks; 'tis she herself, it is my long-lost wife restor'd and rais'd again.

Mort. Pooh! what had I to do to meddle with these matters?

Aug. Why does that gentleman regard me so attentively? His eyes oppress me; ask him if he knows me?

Tyr. Sir, if you know the lady, if you've any tidings to communicate that touch her

Colin. Under favour, I took 'em to be sharpers; I know your lordship always loses, and I've notic'd that they always win.

Lord A. Impertinence! I had debts of honour to adjust with every one of them.

happiness, oh! that I could inspire you with Colin. Hang 'em, base vermin, pay them my feelings!

debts; pay your poor tradesmen; those are Aub. I knew your father, and am a wit- debts of honour. [Half aside. ness to the hard necessity which tore him Lord A. What is't you mutter? It was you from an infant child, and held him eighteen too, I suppose, that drove away my Jew, that

tedious years in exile from his native land.

Aug. What do I hear? You was my father's friend? The prayer and intercession of an orphan draw heaven's righteous benediction down upon you!

came with money to discharge those debts. Colin. That's true enow, gude faith; I promised him a beating, and I kept my word. Lord A. Rascal, thou'rt born to be my

plague.

Aub. Prepare yourself, be constant. I have news to tell you of your father.

Colin. Rascal! Your father never used that

word.

Mort. I can't stand this: I wish I was any where else.

Lord A. On your life, name not him: my heart is torn with vultures, and you feed Tyr. Courage, my dear Augusta; my life them: shall I keep a servant in my house to upon it, there is happiness in store for thee. drive away my guests, to curb my pleasures, Aug. Go on, go on. my pursuits, and be a spy upon my very Aub. You are in an error; you are not an thoughts; to set that cynic Mortimer upon orphan; you have a father, whom, through me, and expose me in the moments of my toil and peril, through sickness and through weakness to that snarling humourist? I want sorrow, heaven has graciously preserved, and no monitors to reproach me, my own thoughts blest at length his unremitting labours with can do that. [Exit. Colin. Well, well! 'tis vary well! A rascal! Tyr. Did I not tell you this? Bear up. Let it pass-Zooks, I'm the first Macleod that Aub. Yes, virtuous Augusta, all your suffer-ever heard that word and kept my dirk withings terminate this moment; you may Let it pass- I've seen the give way to love and happiness; you have world, serv'd a spendthrift, heard myself callfather living who approves your passion, who ed rascal, and I'll now jog bock again across will crown it with a liberal fortune, who now the Tweed, and lay my bones amongst my looks upon you, speaks to you, embraces you. kindred in the Isle of Skey; they're all that [Embraces her. will be left of me by then I reach the place.

abundance.

now in

a

my girdle

Mort. There; there; I'm glad 'tis over. Joy befall you both! Enter LA JEUNESSE. Tyr. See how her colour flies-She'll faint. La Jeu. Ah! dere he stand, le pauvre CoAub. What have I done? Dear innocent, lin in disgrace! Ha! ha! ha! quel spectacle! look up. Ma foi, I must have one little vord wid him

Aug. Oh, yes, to heaven with gratitude for at parting-Monsieur le Financier, courage; these divine vouchsafements-I have a father I am inform my lord have sign your lettre then at last-Pardon my tears; I'm little us'd de cachet: vat of dat? the air of Scotland to happiness, and have not learn'd to bear it. will be for your healt; England is not a Tyr. May all your days to come be nothing country for les beaux esprits; de pure air of de Highlands will give you de grand ap- Mort. Faith, sir, indifferent wellhe hasly; petit for de bonny clabber1). brought a considerable parcel of sun-dried Colin. Take your jest, master Frenchman, bricks from the ruins of ancient Babylon; a at my countrymen, an welcome; the de'il a heavy collection of ores from the mines of jest they made of you last war. [Exit. Siberia, and a pretty large cargo of common

La Jeu. Yes, you are all adroit enough at salt from the banks of the Caspian. war, but none of you know how to be at Dr. D. Inestimable!

peace.

[Exit. Mort. Oh, sir, mere ballast.

SCENE II. - An Apartment in MORTIMER'S
House.

Dr. D. Ballast indeed; and what discoveries does he draw from all these? Mort. Why, he has discovered that the bricks are not fit for building, the mines not MORTIMER, AUBREY, and NAPTHALI, discovered. worth the working, and the salt not good for Mort. And these are all the money dealings perserving: in short, doctor, he has no taste you have had with lord Abberville? for these trifles; he has made the human heart Napth. That is the amount of his debt; the his study; he loves his own species, and does bonds and contracts are in Bridgemore's hands. not care if the whole race of butterflies was

Mort. You see your money has not slept extinct.

in Bridgemore's keeping; your consignment, Mr. Aubrey, is put to pretty good interest.

[Mortimer looks over his Papers. Napth. Aubrey! Is your name Aubrey, may I ask?

Aub. It is.

Dr. D. Yes, putterflies-'tis in my mind, d'ye see, what you have said about my putterflies: 'tis upon my memory; but no matter - your studies, Mr. Mortimer, and mine, are wide asunder. But go on-reform the world, you'll find it a tough task; I am content to

Napth. Have you had any dealings with take it as I find it.

Mr. Bridgemore?

Aub. To my cost.

Mort. While the sun shines, you'll carry a candle; how will that light them, who travel here comes an honest man, and that's a cha

Napth. Did you consign him merchandise in the night? Away with such philosophers, from Scanderoon? Aub. I am the person who was guilty of racter worth ten on't.

that folly.

Napth. Bridgemore, I believe, thought you was dead.

Enter COLIN. So, Colin, what's the news with you? If I'm Aub. I take for granted he would gladly to augur from your countenance, something have me so-But do you know any thing of goes wrong at your house.

that consignment?

Colin. Troth, sir, no mighty matter; only

Napth. Heh! Do I know of it? I had bet-laird Abberville has turn'd away a troublesome ter make a friend of him; 'tis up withBridge- fellow, who bore your honour grete gude will.

more, fait; there is no senses in serving him any longer. [Aside] Why you shall know, sir, I was Bridgemore's broker for your merchandise: here is the abstract of the net proceeds.

[Gives a Paper to Aubrey, who peruses

it some time.

Mort. That's lucky, as I live; I see an honest man never can want weapons to defeat a knave-And pray, sir, what might be your profit on this sale; double commission for a breach of trust; that is the rule of the trade, I think.

Napth. I work as others; I do nothing below market price.

Mort. What is't you tell me? Is my lord determined upon ruin, that he puts away the only honest man belonging to him?

Dr. D. By this coot light, and that is well remember'd; look'e, I've got your wages: come, hold out your hand.

Colin. Axcuse me, I'll ha' none on't. Dr. D. No wages? Why 'tis all coot money; 'tis in full. What, man, think better on't: you'll want it when you get to Scotland ten to one else.

Colin. Like enow, but by my sol, I'll touch n'a siller; he has geen a title to me, which I hanna' merited, heaven knows, nor ever shall. Mort. What title has be given you? Mort. You're right, sir; 'twould be starving Colin. Saving your presence, it ha pleas'd many an honest family, if you made roguery my laird to say, I am a rascal; but I'll na' wear too cheap-But get you gone together to my a rascal's wages in a Scottish pouch: de'il library; I observe a person coming wlfo will o' my soul, I'd sooner eat my stroud1) for famine. interrupt you. - Hark'e, Mr. Aubrey, have Mort. I think thou wouldst, but wait aan eye to our Jew. while with patience; this rash young man's afAub. Trust him to me: I'm pretty well ac-fairs press to a crisis; I have yet one effort custom'd to their dealings. [Exit with Napthali.

Enter DOCTOR DRUID.

more to make, which, if it fails, I shall take leave of him as well as you.

Enter JARVIS.

Dr. D. Save you, sir, save you; is it true, I pray you, that a learned gentleman, a traveller but just arrived, is now with you? Jar. Lord Abberville, sir, desires to speak Mort There is a person under that descrip- with you. tion in my house. Mort. That's well. Colin, go you with hoDr. D. May he be seen, good now? May nest Jarvis. Doctor, for once let us unite our he be talk'd with? What has he brought studies in this cause; come you with me; if home? Is he well stor'd with oriental cu-my advice can rescue your unhappy pupil riosities? from a course of guilty occupations, your 1) A mixture of oatmeal and soup or water.

Sice.

philosophy may furnish harmless ones to fill parties should at least be suffer'd to consult their place: make haste, make haste; here each other's inclinations. come the Bridgemores.

[Exeunt. Mort. By all means; let 'em speak for themselves: 'tis their own cause, and they Enter Servant, introducing BRIDGEMORE, will plead it best: hark'e, come in: sir, these his Wife, and Daughter. Sero. Please to walk in here; my master

will wait upon you immediately,

are the parties.

Enter TYRREL and MISS AUBREY.

Luc. Ah!

Bridge. Nobody here!-Hark'e friend, I expected to meet a stranger; a gentleman, just Ianded from Scanderoon. Know you of such a thorn?

a one?

Mort. What ails you? have you trod upon

Mrs. B. Astonishing assurance! Augusta here? Serv. He is now in the house. Mort. Yes: Francis Tyrrel and Augusta Luc. And Mr. Tyrrel, sir, is he at home? Aubrey. Do the names offend you? Look at Serv. He is; they both will wait upon you the parties: are they not well match'd? Exapresently. [Exit. mine them, they'll tell you they're agreed. Bridge. That's well, that's well; as for old Who shall forbid their union? surly boots we could well spare his company; Luc. Who cares about it? If Mr. Tyrrel 'tis a strange dogged fellow, and execrated by and the lady are agreed, that's enough: Isupall mankind. pose it is not necessary for us be present at

Mrs. B. Thank heaven, he is a ruan one the ceremony. seldom meets; I little thought of ever setting foot in his house: I hope the savage won't grow ceremonious and return the visit.

Luc. Unless he brings his nephew in his hand.

Enter MORTIMER.

Bridge. Ay, sir, I pray you, where's the occasion for us to be cali'd in, because your nephew chooses to take up with an unworthy girl, that I once harbour'd upon charity?

Tyr. Hold your audacious tongue: let conscience keep you silent. Aug. Hush, hush! you frighten me: pray Mort. Ladies, you do me honour. Mr. be compos'd; and let me own that no injustice, Bridgemore, you come here upon a melan- no severity, can wholly cancel what I owe choly errandto Mr. Bridgemore for his past protection, Bridge. True, sir, but death you know is and that share of education he allow'd me; common to all men; I look'd to meet a gen- but when he puts this to the account of charity, tleman here- this is all lost time.

Mort. True: therefore, before he comes,
let us fill it up with something more material:
I have a business to propose to you, which
I consider as my own. You must know, sir,
I've a nephew-

Bridge. Mr. Tyrrel, I suppose?
Mort. The same.

Mr. B. Mind that, Lucy, he is opening his

commission.

Luc. Law, ma'am, you put me into such a flutter

Mort. There is a certain lady, Mr. Bridgemore, whom, on this occasion, you must father.

Bridge. How tedious he is! Couldn't he as well have nam'd my daughter? [Aside]Well, sir, what are your expectations from that lady?

Mort. Nay, nothing hut what you can readily supply: I know no good thing she stands in want of, but a fortune.

Bridge. Well, and who doubts but on a proper occasion I shall give her one? Ay, and a tolerable fortune too, Mr. Mortimer, as times go.

he takes a virtue foreign to his heart, and only aggravates the shame that's falling on him. Mrs. B. Is the man thunderstruck; why don't you answer?

Mort. Charity keeps him silent. Luc. Come, let's be gone: her words have daggers in 'em and her looks have poison. Aug. Before you go, miss Bridgemore, more suffer me to ask, when you related lord Abberville's adventure to Mr. Tyrrel, why you suppress'd the evidence of your own maid, who conducted him into my chamber?

Luc. Miss Aubrey, if it ever is your fate to have a rival, you will find an answer to that question. [Exit with Mrs. Bridgemore. Mort. Hold; you and I, sir, must not part. [To Bridgemore, as he is going.

Bridge. Well, sir, your pleasure? Aug. I suffer for him; this is a scene I wish not to be present at. [Exit.

Tyr. Well, Mr. Bridgemore, you that harbour'd my Augusta upon charity, I shall leave my uncle to discharge discharge my obligations to you on that score, together with his own. [Exit.

Mort. Well, sir, we're now alone; and if it needs must be that one of us shall come

Mort. The fortune you was to have given to shame, 'tis well we are so. It is thought I my ward, lord Abberville, will just suffice: I am a hard unfeeling man; let it be so: you

think the sum was forty thousand pounds.

Bridge. Why you speak out at once.

shall have justice notwithstanding; innocence requires no more. You are accus'd; defend

Mort. That's ever been my custom; I abo-yourself. minate long, sleepy processes; life don't allow

of 'em.

Bridge. Accus'd of what; and who is my

accuser?

Mort. A man; and you shall face him like
Who waits?

Bridge. But I hear nothing on your part; Mr. Tyrrel, as I take it, is wholly dependant a man. on your bounty-besides, affairs, as I con

ceive, are yet scarce ripe.

Enter Servant.

Luc. Indeed, papa, you're very much mistaken. Desire the stranger to
Mrs. B. Why really, Mr. Mortimer, the Servant] Fear nothing; we're enough to try