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Enter Peter with the Pedigree. There it is; there ; Peter, help me to stretch it out : there's seven yards more of lineals, besides three of col. laterals, that I expect next Monday from the herald's office; d'ye fee, Mr Sprightly?

Spri. Prodigious!

Cad. Nay; but looky', there's Welsh princes and ambassadors, and kings of Scotland, and members of parliament: Hold, hold, ecod, I no more mind an earl or a lord in my pedigree, hold, hold, than Kuli Khan wou'd a sergeant in the train'd bands.

Spri. An amazing descent!

Cad. Hey! is it not? And for this low, lousy, son of a fhoemaker, to talk of families-hold, hold, get out of my

house. Rob. Now is your time, Sir. Cad. Mr Sprightly, turn him out.

Gov. Stop, Sir, I have a secret to disclose, that may make you alter

your intentions. Cad. Hold, hold: how, Mr Interpreter?

Gov. You are now to regard that young man in a very different light, and confider him as my son.

Cape. Your son, Sir!

Gov. In a moment, George, the mystery shall be explain'd.

Cad. Your son! Hold, hold; and what then?

Gov. Then! Why then he is no longer the scribbler, the mushroom


have described; but of birth aod fortune equal to your own.

Cad. What the son of an interpreter equal to me. A fellow that trudges about, teaching of languages to foreign counts!

Gov. A teacher of languages!

Cad. Stay; ecod, a runner to Monsieurs and Marquisses!

Spri. You are mistaken, Sir.

Cad. A jack-pudding ! that takes fillips on the nose for fixpence a-piece! Hold, hold, ecod, give me eighteenpennyworth, and change for half-a-crown.

Gov. Stop when you are well.
Cad. A spunger at other mens tables ! that has jal-
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lop lop put into his beer, and his face black'd at Christmas for the diversion of children.

Gov. I can hold no longer. 'Sdeath, Sir, who is it you dare treat in this manner?

Cad. Hey! Zounds, Mr Sprightly, lay hold of him.

Spri. Calm your choler. Indeed, Mr Cadwallader, nothing cou'd excuse your behaviour to this gentleman but your mistaking his person.

Cad. Hold, hold. Is not he interpreter to-
Spri. No.
Cad. Why did not you tell.

Spri. That was a mistake. This gentleman is the prince's friend ; and by long residence in the monarch's country, is perfect matter of the language.

Cad. But who the devil is he then?

Spri. He is Mr Cape, Sir; a man of unblemish'd honour, capital fortune, and late governor of one of our molt confiderable settlements.

Cad. Governor! Hold, hold, and how came you father to hey!-

Gov. By marrying his mother.
Cape. But how am I to regard this?

Gov. As a solemn truth; that foreign friend, to whom you owe your education, was no other than myself: I had my reasons, perhaps capricious ones, for concealing this; but now they cease, and I am proud to own my fon.

Cape. Sir; it is not for me (kneeling), but if gratitude, duty, filial

Gov. Rise, my boy. I have ventured far to fix thy fortune, George ; but to find thee worthy of it, more than o'erpays my toil; the rest of my story shall be referr'd till we are alone.

Cad. Hey! Hold, hold, hold ; ecod, a good sensible old fellow this ; but harky', Sprightly, I have made a damn'd blunder here: Hold, hold, Mr Governor, I alk ten thousand pardons ; but who the devil cou'd have thought that the interpreter to prince Potowowsky

Gov. Oh, Sir, you have in your power sufficient means to atone for the injuries done us both. Cad. Hold, how?


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Goo. By bestowing your fifter with, I flatter myself, no great violence to her inclinations, here.

Cad. What, marry Bell! Hey! Hold, hold; zounds, Bell, take him, do; 'ecod, he's a good likely-hey! Will you?

Arab. I shan't disobey you, Sir.

Cad. Shan't you? That's right. Who the devil knows but he may come to be a governor himself; hey! Hold, hold; come here then, give me your hands both; (joins their hands.) “There, there, the business is done. And now, brother governor

Gov. And now brother Cadwallader.

Cad. Hey! Beck, here's something now for my pedigree; we'll pop in the Governor to-morrow.

Mrs Cad. Hark’y, Mr Governor, can you give me a black boy and a monkey?

Cad. Hey! ay, ay, you shall have a black boy, and a monkey, and a parrot too, Beck.

Spri. Dear George, I am a little late in my congratulation; but

Gov. Which if he is in acknowledging your disinterefted friendship, I shall be sorry I ever own’d him. Now, Robin, my cares are over, and my wishes full; and if George remains as untainted by affluence as he has been untempted by distress, I have given the poor a protector, his country an advocate, and the world a friend.

[Exeurt omineso



Written by a LADY.


Spoken by Mrs CLIVE. WELL-thank my fars, that I have done

my task; And now throw off this aukward, idiot mask. Cou'd we suppose this circle, fo refin'd, W bo seek those pleasures that improve the mind, Cou'd from such vulgarisms feel delight, Or laugh at characters so unpolite? Who come to plays, to fee, and to be seen; Not to bear things that shock, or give the spleen; Who foun an opera, when they bear 'tis thin. Lord! do you know?Says lady Bell I'm told " That Jacky Dapple got so great a cold

Laff Tuesday night There wa’n't a creature there; * Not a male thing to baud one to one's chair. " Divine Mingotti! what a swell bas foe! O! such a sustinuto upon B! * Ma'am, when she's quite in voice, fbe'll go to C. Lord! says my lady English-bere's a pother! « Go where he will, I'll never fee another.Her ladyip, balf-cboak'd with London air, And brought to town to see the fights--and fare. Fine singing that! I'm sure 'tis more like screaming;

To me, I vow, they're all a pack of women!" " Ob Barbare!m. Inhumana! -Tramontane! Does not this creature come from Pudding-Lane? Look, look, my lord! She goggles! Ha, ba.—“ Pray, be quiet; * Dear lady Bell, for pame! You'll make a riot."

Why, will they mix with us to make this rout? Bring in a bill, my lord, to keep 'em out.We'll have a taste act, faith!-my lord replied; And put out all that are not qualified.Thus ridicule is bounded like a ball, Struck by the great, then answer'd by the small; While we, at times, return it to all, Askilful hand will ne’er your rage provoke : For though it hits you, you'll applaud the stroke: Let it but only glance, you'll never frown; Nay, you'll forgive, tho't knocks your neighbour down.

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'Theither end nor fide.

Scene, Sherwood Forest.
Enter several COURTIERS as loft.

IS horrid dark! and this wood, I believe, has

neither end nor fide. 4 Cour. You mean, to get out at; for we have found one in, you

fee. Cour. I wish our good king Harry had kept nearer • home to hunt: In my mind, the pretty tame deer in • London make much better sport than the wild ones in • Sherwood forest.


3 Cour,

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