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bashfulness may have deceived you—My heart never did.

r. Cla. C'est vrai.

Mifs Har. 'I'herefore, before I declare my sentiments, it is proper that I disavow any engagement:But at the fame time must confess

r. Cla. Ho-ho!
Miss Har. With fear and shame confess
Filla. Courage, Mademoiselle !

Miss Har. That another, not you, Sir, has gain'd a power over my heart.---- (T. Y. Clackit.)

Sir Cha. Another, not you; mind that, Jack. Ha! ha!

Miss Har. It is a power indeed which he despises. I cannot be deceived in his conduct. Modesty may tie the tongue of our sex, but silence in him could proceed only from contempt.

Sir Cha. How prettily she reproaches me!- But I'll foon make it up with her.

Miss Har. As to that letter, Sir, your error there is excuseable ; and I own myself in that particular a little blameable. But it was not my fault that it was sent to you; and the contents must have told you, that it could not possibly be meant for you. (T. Y. Clackit.)

Sir Cha. Proof positive, Jack :-Say no more.--Now is my time to begin.--Hem !-hem !-Sweet young lady !-hem !--whose charms are so mighty, so far transcending every thing that we read of in history or fable, how could you possibly think that my filence

proeeeded from contempt? Was it natural or prudent, think you, for a man of fixty-five, nay, just entering into his fixty-fixth yearř. Cla. O Misericorde! What, is my uncle my

rival! Nay then I shall burst, by Jupiter ! Ha! ha! ha!

Miss Har. Don't imagine, Sir, that to me your age is any

fault. Sir Cha. (Bowing.) You are very obliging, Madam.

Miss Har. Neither is it, Sir, a merit of that extraordinary nature, that I should sacrifice to it an inclination which I have conceived for another.

Sir Cha. How is this?
r. Cla. Another! not you-mind that, uncle.
Luc. What is the meaning of all this !

---This young


2. Cla. Proof positive, uncle--and very positive.

Sir Cha. I have been led into a mistake, Madam, which I hope you will excuse ; and I have made myself very ridiculous, which I hope I shall forget :-And so Madam, I am your humble servant. lady has something very extraordinary about her.

Hea. What I now see, and the remembrance of what is paft, force me to break silence.

Y. Cla. Ay, now for it.—Hear him-hear him.

Hea. O my Harriet !-I too must be disgraced in my turn. Can you think that I have seen and convers’d with you unmov'd ?-Indeed I have not.--The more I was sensible of your merit, the stronger were my motives to stifle the ambition of heart. But now I can no longer resist the violence of my passion, which cafts me at your feet, the most unworthy indeed of all your admirers, but of all the most affectionate.

1. Cla. So, so, the moon has changed, and the grown gentlemen begin to be frisky.

Luc. What, my master in love too ! I'll never trust these tye-wigs again. (Afide.)

Miss Har. I have refused my hand to Sir Charles and this young gentleman: The one accuses me of caprice, the other of fingularity.--Should I refuse my hand a third time (smiling), I might draw upon myself a more severe reproach ;-and therefore I accept your favour, Sir, and will endeavour to deserve it.

Hea. And thus I seal my acknowledgments, and from henceforth devote my every thought, and all my services, to the author of my happiness. (Kijes her hand.)

* Luc.. Since matters are so well settled, give me leave, Sir, to congratulate you on your success, --

and my young lady on her judgment.—You have my "taste exactly, Miss; ripe fruit for my money : when * it is too green, it sets one's teeth on edge; and when too mellow, it has no flavour at all.'

Sir Cha. Hold your tongue, you baggage, (T. Lucy.)'-Well, my dear discreet nephew, are you satisfied with the fool's part you have given me, and play'd yourself, in the farce ?

7. Cla. What would you have me fay, Sir ? I am too much a philofopher to fret myself because the wind C 2


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which was east this morning is now weft.—The poor girl in pique has kill'd herself, to be reveng’d on me ; but hark'ye, Sir, I believe Heartly will be cursed mad to have me live in his neighbourhood.-A word to the wife.

Sir Cha. Thou hast a moft incorrigible vanity, Jack, and nothing can cure thee.—Mr Heartly, I have sense enough, and friendship enough, not to be uneasy at your happiness.

Hea. I hope, Sir Charles, that we shall still continue to live as neighbours and friends. For you, my Harriet, words cannot express my wonder or my joy; my future conduct must tell you what a sense I have of my happiness, and how much I shall endeavour to deserve it.

For ev'ry charm that ever yet bless'd youth,
Accept compliance, tenderness, and truth;
My friendly care shall change to grateful love,
And the food husband still the GUARDIAN prove.

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Drury-Lane. Edinburgh. Wingate, a paffionate old)

man, particularly fond of moneyand figures, and Mr Yates. Mr Hollingsworth, involuntarily uneasy a.

bopt his fon, Dick, his son, bound to an

apothecary, and fond of Mr Woodward. Mr Ward.

going on the Page, Gargle, an apothecary, Mr Burton. Mr Charteris, Charlotte, daughter to Gargle, Miss Minors.

Miss Kirby Simon, servant to Gargle, Mr H. Vaughan. Mr Johnsoul. Scotchman,

Mr Blakes. Irishmani,

Mr Jefferson. Mr Hallion,
Catchpole, a bailiff,

Mr Vaughan.
Spouting-Club, Watchmen, &c.

Р в о L OG

U E.
Written by Mr G A RRICK,

And spoken by Mr WOODWARD.


ROLOGUES precede the piece in mournful verse;.

As undertakers-walk before the herse;
Whofe doleful march may Itrike the harden's mind,
And wake its feelings- -for the dead behind.
To-night no smuggled scenes from France we show,
'Tis English English, Sirs!—from top to toe.
Tho' coarse the colours, and the hand unkillid,
From real life our little cloth is fillid.


The hero is a youth, Rhy fate design'd
For culling simples;- but whose stage-struck mind,
Nor fate could rule, nor his inder.tures bind.
A place there is where such young Quixotes meet;
"Tis call'd the SPOUTING.CLUB,-a glorious treat!
Where 'prentic'd-kings-afarm the gaping street !
There Brutus starts and stares by midnight taper;
Who all the DAY enacts—a woollen draper.
There Hamlet's ghost stalks forth with doubl'd fift,
Cries out with hollow voice, Lift, Lift, o Lift !
And frightens Denmark's prince-a young tobacconist.
The fpirit too, clear'd from his deadly white,
Rises- a haberdasher to the sight!
Not young attorneys- -have this rage withstood,
But change their pens for TRUNCHEONS, ink for BLOOD;
And (strange reverse !)-die for their country's good.

To check thefe heroes, and their laurels crop,
To bring 'em back to reafonand their shop,
Our author wrote.- you Tom, Dick, Jack, Will!
Who hold the balance, or who gild the pill;
Who wield the yard, and simp’ring pay your court,
And at each flourish snip an inch too short !

Quit not your shops; there thrift and profit call,
Whilft here young gentlemen are apt to fall! [Bell rings.]
But soft! the prompter calls !-brief let me bem
Here groans you'll hear, and Aying apples see,
Be damn'd, perhaps.-Farewell! Remember me.

} }

ACT 1.


Scene I. Enter WINGATE and SIMON.

but I tell

I am convinced-

_I know it is fo-And so, friend, don't you think to trifle with me :-I know you're in the plot, you scoundrel; and if you don't discover all, I'll

Sim. Dear heart, Sir, you won't give a body time.

Wir. Zookers ! a whole month misling, and no account of him far or near- -Wounds ! 'tis unaccountable -Look ye, friend don't

you pretend Sim. Lord, Sir,-you're so main paffionate, you won't let a body speak. Win. Speak out then,-and don't stand muttering.

- What

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