old maid-ne'er play at blindman's-buff with young Oxonians, for we are fure to catch you! (marking Mifs Gurnet's door with crayon.)-Hark!—he's returning!mum-boy-mum! (coming down the

flage.)

Re-enter Frank with a light wicker Basket, lined with green Oilskin.

Frank. So-still unobserv'd!-come, come a few yards further and here is your reward (haking purse at his ears).

Tourly. I hear transporting mufic!-and what's this?a bafket!-what's in it? (taking it from Frank.)

Frank. Silence!-mark me→

Tourly. I will. (marking Frank's fhoulder with crayon.)

Frank. Have you humanity?

Tourly. Have I existence ?-be affur'd, the purse and basket cannot be in fafer hands-for the contents of one shall make two lovers happy-and for the other hark'ye-none is a better match for villains, than he who fets his mark upon them:come-away-(Sir Andrew opens Mifs Gurnet's door, and is advancing, but stops to observe,)-ha! ba! I am not fingly in the dark!-no-there are others who will be in the bafket! (afide, and pointing over his shoulder to the mark on Mifs Gurnet's door.) [Frank and Tourly exeunt. Sir And. (coming forward). What the devil! am I in the basket!-zounds!-I'll follow!pfha!-it wasn't me he pointed at-and I'll this moment 'bout the licence; for my intended is fo apt at words, that he's the very wife to help me with my Dictionary, fweet foul!-but then fhe's fond of fashion: Fashion," fays fhe, " is that which only follows rank and merit."-" Pooh !" fays I, Fashion,"

D

"Fashion," (taking out Dictionary,) "fashion is that which follows patriots, preachers, caps, crim. con. and opera dancers, which scouts the city, but often vifits that part of it, properly called Duke's Place, from the numerous nobility who frequent it; which quizzes trade, fells cards, paints faces, chalks ball rooms, jigs" Sir David Hunter Blair," drives coachmen, and, if not in feparate beds, fleeps in one of such magnitude, that whilft my lady dofes in one parish, my lord fnores in another. [Exit.

END OF THE THIRD ACT.

Giles difcover'd fitting in a difconfolate pofture.Sophia listening at the door in the flat.-Clock is beard ftriking.

Giles.

ELEVEN o'clock and Mr. Villars not come home yet; fpeak, Sophia, why don't thee fay fomewhat pleasant, girl?-dang it-thee be'ft nation bad company.

Sophia (coming from the door).-Poor lady!Hark, Giles!-do you not hear her fighs-her moans?

Giles. No-nor I won't hear them-nor thee either, unless thee can'ft fay fomewhat more agreeable.

Sophia. What can I fay, Giles?

Giles. Nothing-if thee can'ft fay that Mr. Villars do stay out fo late, because he has found little Henry; and fince thee can't say any thing to the purpose, fing thy favourite ditty.

II.

The frantic mother fought her child,
While the chill rain was falling,
Its lifping voice, its features mild,
At every blast recalling.

She wept, and with a heart-felt figh
Fell on a green turf that was nigh,
And humm'd her Baby's hufh-a-bye.

II.

The Baby, near her ffumb'ring, woke,
Like fome fweet opening bloffom;
Then through the spreading branches broke,
And leap'd upon her bofom.

The mother gave a frantic cry,

Wip'd ev'ry rain-drench'd garment dry,

And fung her Baby's hush-a-bye.

Giles. Hufh! what's that? 'tis he-and with him-(looking out)-no-he's alone !-no child no comfort for the mother!"

Enter Villars.

Villars. You here, my friend 2-that at least is fortunate-tell me, where is Maria?

Giles. Yonder-in that room-and we have partly made her think, that Henry be fafe with thee.

Villars. That's well-perfift in that-deceive her for to-night-and 'twill procure me time-fay I am fafe with Henry-and to-morrow-oh, tomorrow!

Giles. To-morrow!

Villars. Ay: afk me not the fad mysterious caufe-but to her fon's, fhe must now add her hufband's lofs-can it be poffible?-for the first time I am compell'd to quit my home, and to endure-but of myself I think not-I can bear any thing but wounding her!

Giles. Quit thy home !-thee who did❜ft neverVillars. Never-I knew too well its pure fubftantial joys, to leave them for an inftant, and now, at fuch an hour, when fhe fo needs :-but 'tis decreed.

Voice (without). Sir!

Villars.

Villars (pointing to the wing). Hark! I am fummoned, and my word is pledged.

Giles (Looking out). Summoned !-fo he be, and in such a strange-Lord! Soph, I's be all in a big fluftration!

Sophia. Who can it be? perhaps fome enemy. Giles. You've hit it, and I'll go flily and let loose on um, the two English bull dogs-I wull.

Villars. Hold-pride, honour, love, all compel me to be fecret, and therefore for to-night,. farewell to you-to you-and to yon fuffering(approaching door and turning away.) Oh agony! but you will guard her, and conceal her lofs.

Giles. Don't thee be afear'd-and in the morning mayhap

Villars. Perhaps I may return-perhaps-miffortune fo preffes on misfortune, it is in vain to answer for events!-Firft, flames furround my farm; then, there's my child-what's left! Honour and her I love! and ftill that's confolation, but now when tender fympathizing care

Voice (without). Sir! Sir!

Villars. Well, well! remember, spare a fond mother and a wife!

Voice (without). Mr. Villars!

Villars. I come, I come.

[Exit.

Giles. Spare her!-that I wull-if I did know how to fet about it; but fomehow I be not much at home at deception and bouncing-be'ft thee Sophia?

Sophia. Alas!-where!-where fhall we tell her they're in safety?

Giles. Where?-why at home?-at aunt Gurnet's-and that the reason they don't come back to-night, is because-because-be-dang it—I did'n't ftay long enough in London-I should have feen more of Lord Highhome.

D3

Enter