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Strahan and Preston,

Printat-StreeU

PROLOGUE.

JN O more for war in foreign climes we roam,

But, fearless, brave election strife at 11 me.

Say, 'midst the thunder of the public voice.
May I present a Member for your choice I

No stranger he, but to each Voter known,
And by adopting kindness made your own.

Twas his ambition, friends, when very youngs
To serve this Borough,—he has serv'd it long;
In life, your suffrage has been all his aim,
His only fortune, and his only fame.
Should you the æra not remember well.
The Dramatist is still alive to tell.

All Members here instructions must pursue,
And, like camelions, still must take your hue;
Adopt each change, however new or rare,
Or, like camelions, still must feed on air.
Here, by the general voice, we stand or fall,
And one proud franchise is enjoy'd by all.
Cheer us, ye tenants (tie Gallery) of those high domi-
nions,
Ye boldest Freeholders of free opinions.
Substantial Householders (Pit), ah ! spare our plot.
Spare us, ye generous sons of scot and lot.
And may our Poet's whim, if not his wit.
Secure a batch of plumpers in the Pit.
Whilst these fair Voters here (Boxes), preferr'd to man,
Give us the gentler suffrage os the fan,
With soft seducing canvas win the soul,
Your shew ot hands—and we {hall head the poll.

We claim not, o'er you, a septennial right.
We ask your vote and interest for one night;
Nor call that candidate !upr m ly vain.
So oft elected, <vho puts up again;
Whose constant toil (however it content you)
Has been—most faithfully to represent you.

A 2

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

Sir Edward Dclauny

Lieutenant St. Orme

Sapling

Henry Sapling

Paul Postpone

Privilege

Robert Grange

Farmer Nightshade

Sternly

Thomas

Groom

Landlord

Clerk.

Waiter.

Gaoler.

Servant to Sir Edward.

Postilions.

Mr. Murray.
Mr, Siddons.
Mr. Munden.
Mr. Lewis.
Mr. Fawcett.
Mr. Simmons.
Mr. Emert.
Mr. Thompson.
Mr. Davbnport.
Mr. Atkins.
Mr. Abbot.
Mr. Harlit.

Mrs. Sapling
Honoria
Mrs. St. Orme
Lauretta

Mrs. Mattocks. Mrs. H. Johnston. Mrs. Litchmkld. Mrs. H. Siddons.

DELAYS And BLUNDERS.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Outside of County Gaol—Houses and

Trees representing the Street in a country Towna Bridge in the Centre, and extensive open Country behind itStage partly darken'dLauretta St. Orme/«b crossing the Bridge with a Basket in her band,

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Enter Lauretta.

ARK! {looking back alarmed) it was the sound of sect!—I'm watch'd—1 am discover'd !—{falls againjl the wing ) Oh Heavens! my rash imprudent zeal has ruin'd all—no—{recovering) 'twas but fancy—nothing but the passing breeze J—*-and I may venture to proceed.—I know —I'm sure that he'll condemn me; but 'tis a long, lopg month since I have heard what passes in that dark abode—perhaps his health may suffer by confinement—perhaps his poverty denies him e'en Jifc's common comforts—perhaps—Oh! the suspense is insupportable! and I were not the daughter that he thinks me, if I endur'd it calmly— {knocks at the prison gate)—I will but ask, and then again to my retreat.

A 3 Gaoler Gaoler {speaking through iron grating').

Who's there at this time of the morning?

Lauretta. One to enquire after Mr. St. Orme.

Gaoler. St. Orme!—the prisoner consin'd for murder?

Lauretta. Aye: as'tis said, for murder!

Gaoler. You can't see him—begone. (Retiring.)

Lauretta. Sray, Sii—spare me but a moment—• I will not ask to lee him—I only ask that you will give him this.— Taking a small paper parcel out of basket.)—'tis a small present from a stranger—-*

meant to revive and cheer him nay ;—if he be.

guilty, he the more needs consolation—the virtuous fly to coi lcience for relief—but where !—Oh! where, can loch as you describe St. Orme, seek comfort or repose ?—then be merciful—and in the hour of distress, you shall have your reward.

Gaoler Well—I'll take it. (Opens grating-*-taies parcel—shuts it again, and exit.)

Lauretta. Thanks—thanks !——and yet those

prison gates Oh! that they'd open wide, and

once mere give a father to my arms !—then should my humble talents itill assist him—then would we seek again that hapless mother, who needs a hufband's and a daughter's aid.—But these are idle hopes—the dreaded hour approaches!—the day of trial is at hand !—Oh spare him '—spare him Heave .1!

Enter Gaoler from the gate.

Gaoler. So,—instead of reviving the prisoner, your present threw him into violent agitation—and here — (producing a letter) — he sends you this answer.

Lauretta. (Reading it aside.) "You have done "very wrong—return instantly to your retreat in

"the

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