37. Prim. Nay, don't tell me, coufin; for paffing through the weft end of the town, every young man I met was debilitated, or fhort-fighted, or ricketty, or had a defect in his voice. Poor fellows, you can't think how fincerely I pitied them! I did indeed; and if I had not referved all my fortune for Gabriel, I'd build an hofpital for the benefit of the infirm and decayed beaux of Bond-ftreet.-But come, the more I talk on't, the more I figh for the cottage-fo we'll just go vifit a few old friends and relations, return and rest in the hotel, and betimes in the morning fet off, and furprize the innocent, the Arcadian couple. Craft. So we will; and as to the fettlement, coufin Prim. Oh! if they behave as I expect-1 fhan't wait till the year's out-and d'ye hear, Mr. Clifford, do nothing dishonorable, and I fhall neither controul you in your pleasures, or your expences; and if you delight in rural scenery and innocent mirth, come and pass a few weeks at the cottage I'll warrant 'twill cure your pain in the cheft.-Now, coufin! oddfheart! I'm fo pleafed and fo gratified, that if it were not for fome fecret gnawings about my poor daughter-but s'life! why do I think of her? as you fay fhe was but a child when I laft faw her, and fhe's gone, and I'm the happiest (half crying), merriest old fellow living. [Exit with JONATHAN and CRAFTLY, Clif. S'death! what can my father mean by making me dependent on the caprice of an old dotard! However, I fee I can easily dupe him, and in the end, I fhall not only get my own income, but part of his into the bargain; and now once more for the object of my fearch, the dif P 3 dainful dainful Mrs. Belford-zounds! fhall I never re-. cover her? Enter WILLIAM. Will. Joy, Sir! fhe's found-the runaway's found!-not half an hour ago, I faw her enter the Priory. Clif. What, Mrs Belford! Will. Yes, Sir; fhe's gone there as a teacher of mufic and drawing to Mr. Marchmont's daughter, -and knowing he was a strange character, and might prevent your gaining poffeffion of her-I have already feen him, and fecured him in our interest. Clif. That's well, then fhe's for ever mine; but how-how did you contrive to deceive March mont? Will. Why, Sir, I met him on the road, and told him a perfon of very fufpicious character was now with his daughter-and if he'd wait on you-you'd give him information and advice; and fee here he 15, Sir. Enter MARCHMONT haftily. March. Mr. Clifford, am I to believe Clif. 'Tis too true, Sir; the person now with your daughter may not only corrupt her young and inexperienced mind, but abfolutely decoy her from your protection. March. Aftonifhing! who is fhe? Clif. To fpeak the truth, a lady who has eloped from a most affectionate hufband; and as fhe is a diftant relation of mine, I'm pursuing her to restore her to her family. March. And being loft herself-fhe would reduce all others to her level-Oh! fhe is the agent of fome villain! and now I recollect-the pocketbook book my daughter found, no doubt was dropped by her, to aid their dark intentions. Clif. Pocket-book! ha! that must have been Sir Harry's-I'll work on this and turn it to account (afide). Now you mention it faw in her poffeffion a pocket-book of curious workmanfhip;-filver'd-blue. March. The fame-the fame-Oh! that is ample confirmation; and this is the refult of my too fanguine folly; for, on a falfe and moft precarious profpect, I advertised for a teacher for my child; and now, the who has nurfed me, toil'd for me-nay, whofe very thoughts have faved me hours of labor, she's to be corrupted and taken from me! Come let us lofe no time in haftening to her Clif. No, but I hope you will not truft her ftory-we've been too long acquainted, I pre fume March. We have, and you've no motive for deceiving me-No-No-fhe is employed by fome feducer and I would rather truft my daughter with an hoft of men, than with one woman of fufpicious fame. But fhe's in danger, and let me fly to fave her. [Exeunt. SCENE-A Gothic Apartment in the Priory. Enter ROSA and MRS. BELFORD-MRS. B. in a Hat and Veil. Rofa. Oh! you do not know how deeply you have interested me. Pray proceed with your story -you lately came from Switzerland you say? Mrs. B. I did: under the protection of a moft kind and liberal lady-but on my arrival, being D4 perfe perfecuted by the artful addreffes of her nephew; and the, innocently becoming his advocate; I was compelled to leave her. Rofa. And have you no other friend? Mrs. B. None, none on earth; and am reduced to fuch an abject ftate of poverty-that reading your advertisement for a teacher in mufic, I thought I would apply for the fituation, as the laft hope of faving me from want. Rofa. And I'm fo glad you read it! My father will foon return, and then I hope he will perfuade you to live with us for ever. He is moft tender and affectionate; but, as he tells me, I want a female monitor, for, alas! I never had a mother to inftruct me, Mrs. B. No! Rofa. No! fhe died when I was yet an infant; poor woman! I often fhed tears to her memory, I'd give the world were the alive Mrs. B. Would you? good girl! I have been -nay, perhaps, am ftill a mother; and could I even hope, my child e'er thought, or talked of me as you do but no more of this-let us to the theme on which we meet-and before I venture to inftruct you, give me a fpecimen of my fcholar's talents. Rofa. Moft willingly-I'll fing my favorite ballad. SONG. Sweetly in Life's jocund morning, Tells me thofe bleft hours are gone, He has frown'd, and they are flown! Love, which drew these forrows on me, Smile, and all my cares are flown. Mrs. B. Merciful pow'rs!-who taught you Mrs. B. Your father!-fpeak-his name? this? Mrs. B. And you!-Oh, yes: I fee it now-'tis fhe!-'tis fhe herself! (weeps, and kisses Rosa's band violently.) Rofa. Blefs me! what agitates you? Mrs. B. Nothing! pardon me-it is your like nefs to your mother that diftracts me !-then these words-they were your mother's, Rofa. Rafa, Did you know her? Oh! speak of herinform me quick, tell me every thing about herI would walk barefoot through the world, and think each pang that wrung my weary feet were joy! were ecftacy! could I but learn fome tidings of my mother. Mrs. B. What! has your father never told you? Rofa. Never; the fubject is forbidden me; and if, perchance, I name her, he fhews fuch anger, and fuch fecret horror! Mrs. B. Oh! If I dared to reveal-but no, ftill -I must still be mute (afide). March. (without) Rofa! Rofa Marchmont! Mrs. B. I know-I recollect the found-and like the knell of death it ftrikes upon my heart! what |