find it na' where alse. Ken you one Bradgemore's, may I ask? Aub. He had used to live in yonder house with the great gates; but it is many years since I have been in England.

Colin. I'faith, you need na' tell me that; I apprehend as much from your civility.

Aub. Give me leave, now, in my turn, to ask you a few questions.

Colin. With aw my heart; you have gude right; you may interrogate me freely.

Aub. You are acquainted with this Bridgemore? Colin. I am.

Aub. And with his family?

Colin. I am.

Aub. And what does it consist of?

Colin. Troth, of a spouse and daughter.
Aub. Are they all?

Colin. Ay, and enough in aw gude reason; the de'il, sir, in his vengeance need na' add a third.

Aub. But, to be serious; tell me, I beseech you, do you know of no one else in Mr. BridgeColin. Of none. [more's family. Aub. What do I hear? Pray recollect yourself; you don't seem to know this house; perhaps you are not well acquainted with his family?

Colin. Aw that he owns, I know; what base-begotten brats he may have sculking up and down in holes and corners, troth, I can't pretend to say.These city cattle sometimes will break pasture.

Aub. You misconceive me, honest friend: has no young lady of the name of Aubrey come within your knowledge?

Colin. Ay, ay, poor lassie, she once lived with Bradgemore; the worse luck her's, but that is over; she has got her liberty; she's now released. Aub. I understand you-she is dead.

Colin, Dead! Heaven forefend! An you would give me time, I would ha' told you she's released from yon fat fellow's tyranny; na' more: out on him, filthy porpoise! aw the bowels in his belly, though he has got gude store, dunna' contain one grain of pity: troth, with his gude will, she might ha' starved and perished in the streets.

Aub. What is't you tell me? In the same breath you bring my hopes to my life, and murder them again. Starved in the streets! I thought she had an affluent fortune.

Colin. In virtue, sir, nought else; and that will not pass current for a dinner. Zooks! and I mysall, by heaven's gude providence, had na' stapt in upon the very nick of time, my life upon't, she

had been lost.

Bridgemore to an interview at Mr. Mortimer's. Come, my good benefactor, how fortunate was this meeting. I long to know to whom I owe this happiness. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Bridgemore's Counting-house. Enter BRIDGEMORE and NAPTHALI. Bridge. And so, friend Napthali, Lord Abberville has had another tumble.

Napth. A d-d one.

Bridge. I'm glad on't; this will wring his fine, high, pampered carcass to the quick.

Napth. I'fait, he flings and winces so, I tremble to come near; he looks as dark as India stock upon a settling day.

Bridge. Ay, ay; the dice are little weapons, but they make deep wounds: what between those that win, us that lend, he bleeds at both arms. These are the bonds.

Napth. Take 'em: this is a memorandum of the premium on five thousand, and this the private contract for extraordinary interest. (Gives papers.)

Bridge. Good, friend Napthali! The bonds give legal interest, and this doubles it. There, there, lie by and breed. But harkye! Hast brought the abstract of the sale of the Neptune's cargo?

Napth. Aubrey's consignment you mean. Bridge. The same; but mum! That's between you and me close, close, my little Napthali.

Napth. A broker and betray his principal! That's not my vay; there is no senses in that. Here I have make out your account; 'tis vary coot bargain I have make, considering diamond is a drug. Bridge. Why this tells well; it mounts; the raw silk was old gold; the carpeting and cottons not amiss; and, whuh! the rhubarb- [coffee.

Napth. Ah! sir, but vat is that? Look at the Bridge. Politics account for that; while newspapers bear price, coffee will hold its own. This rupture with the Russians was in our favour here.

Napth. Ay, ay, a charming stroke; war is a vary coot thing; and then the plague; a blessed circumstance, tank heaven; coot seven per cent.

Bridge. Let me see; altogether, 'tis a thumping sum: it netted forty thousand where's the conscience, Napthali, that wouldn't strain a point for forty thousand pounds?

Napth. Oh!"'tis all fair in the vay of trade; you could not strike a jury out of Jonathan's that wouldn't acquit you. Well, Mr. Bridgemore, anything more in my vay? [Lloyd's?

Bridge. Nothing at present. Did you call at Napth. Odso! well recollected! The Seahorse is arrived from Scanderoon, she that had such high insurances upon her.

Bridge. What d'ye hear? What passengers come in her? Is she at Stangate-creek?

Napth. No, in the pool; she brought clean bills of health from Leghorn.

Aub. You shall hear all my story, but this is no fit place to tell it in: satisfy me, first, if my poor child is safe.

Colin. Fear nought, she's safe with Maister Mortimer; I laft her but this moment.

Aub. Who is Mr. Mortimer?

Colin. Why, Maister Mortimer is one who does a thousand noble acts without the credit of one; his tongue wounds and his heart makes whole; he must be known and not described: an you will bait awhile, in yonder tavern, till I come from Bradgemore's, I'll accompany you to your daughter.

Aub. Agreed; I fear I've been mistaken in this Bridgemore: three years ago I consign'd to him a cargo of great value from Scanderoon; if he has robbed me-but till I've seen my daughter, I'll suspend my inquiry. Step with me into yonder tavern, there we'll concert the means of bringing

sible to have kept my secret from that fellow.The Seahorse come at last! Why, be it so. What ails me; what possesses me? If she brings news of Aubrey's death, I'm a whole man; ay, and a warm one, too. How now! who's there?

Enter COLIN MACLEOD.

Colin. Cawdie Macleod, a ragged Highlander, so please you; a wretched gaelly, under favour of your raverence, na' better.

Bridge. I recollect you now for one of my Lord Abberville's retinue. Well, you have some inquiries to make about Miss Aubrey.

Colin. Ecod, you are close upon the mark. Bridge. I guessed as much; but she is gone from hence, and you may follow.

Colin. Out on thee, ragamuffin! an I were not bound to secrecy, I'd gee thee sic a pill should lead that weam of thine the de'il a dance. (Aside.)

Bridge. No, Master Colin; your Scotch policy will stand you in no stead this turn.

12

Colin. Then I'll forswear my country. Well, you wull na' have my message, then, I mun gang bock to Maister Mortimer, and tell the Turkish trader you'll na' see him. [of?

Bridge. Hold, hold! what trader do you speak Colin. Of one that's com'd a passenger from Scanderoon, aboard the what d'ye call the vessel? the Seahorse, I take it.

Bridge. What, who? It is not Aubrey. Colin. Gude faith, I would it were; the mon is dead. [Aubrey? Bridge. Which man is dead; the passenger or Colin. Hoot! can't you think 'tis Aubrey? By your leave, truth, awhile; you will na' take it much to heart, an I make use of falsehood to detect itsall. (Aside.)

Bridge. I'll go to Mr. Mortimer's; I'll go with all my heart. Give me your hand; I ask your pardon heartily, my honest friend.—And so he's dead, you say; you're sure he is dead. Pray, what distemper did he die of?

Colin. When a mon's in his grave, what matters what distemper laid him there.

Bridge. That's true, that's true enough. Pray you, sit down; I'll just run up and tell my wife and daughter. Zooks! suppose I brought them with me; will they meet a welcome, think you?

Colin. Ay, sic a one as you don't look for, take my word.

Bridge. I'm a new man; I walk upon the air. [Exit. Colin. Ecod! the project takes; I drew for the cock bird, and have taken the whole covey. Enter NAPTHALI, hastily.

Napth. Ods my life, Mr. Bridgemore, I forgot -Who's there? that devil Scotchman.

Colin. Hold, hold! friend Napthali; you and I munna part; you must keep pace wi' me to Maister Mortimer's.

Napth. To Mr. Mortimer's? Impossible: why, I must be at Bank, sir, I must be at Jonathan's: I've forty bargains to settle. I shall have half the coffee-house on my back. Would you make me a lame duck?

Colin. Duck, or no duck, ecod! sir, you must travel. [Drags him out.

Enter LUCINDA. Luc. Heyday! I never saw the like before; I can't think what possesses my father; he's intoxicated; quite beside himself with this confirmation of Mr. Aubrey's death: for my part, I derive no particular gratification from it; so that Augusta had but one lover less, I care not if she had forty fathers living: Tyrrel's the man of her heart, and in truth, he is an object worthy any woman's preference; if I could draw him from her, 'twould be full retaliation for Lord Abberville.-I'll go to Mortimer's; 'tis an untoward visit; but I'll go there. Re-enter BRIDGEMORE.

Bridge. Come, bustle, daughter, bustle; get your cloak on, the coach will be here immediately: but where's my Scotchman? I forgot to ask the stranger's name. [Exit, hastily. Enter MRS. BRIDGEMORE. Mrs. B. Where have you hid yourself, my dear? Come, are you ready? Your father's frantic with impatience.

Luc. I follow you. Now, Aubrey, 'tis my turn. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Mortimer's Library. Enter MORTIMER and TYRREL. Mort. Never tell me; you've acted like a giddy, hot young man; put a few hearsay circumstances together, shook 'em in an empty noddle, and so produced a compound of nonsense and suspicion.

Tyr. I plainly see I've judged too hastily. Mort. Judged! pooh! I would not give a rush for such a judge: a magpie in a cage, that chatters out whore to every woman that goes by, will be as often right as you, and judge as wisely: never talk to me of judging others, till you've condemned yourself.

[ACT IV

Tyr. I do condemn myself; and if Miss Aubrey does not sign my pardon, I am disposed, not only to condemn, but execute.

Mort. Away, then, and throw yourself upon the mercy of the court; it is the fate of bunglers to be asking pardon. [Exit Tyrrel. Enter COLIN MACLEOD. Colin. Bless you, gude Maister Mortimer, I hanna' slept in your commission: yon fat fellow upon Fish-street-hill is on his march, with bag and baggage.

[with him?

Mort. What mean you? Does he bring his wife Colin. Troth, does he, and his daughter, too; the plot is thickening, you mun know, apace, and yon same buzzard canna' spy it out.

Mort. What plot is thickening?

Colin. Zooks! mon, you shall behold as pretty a discovery, come the time, as ever your eyes looked upon; but aw things in their course; I mun gang home the whilst, but I'll be quickly bock again, d'ye see?

Mort. Do so, my friend; and, harkye! tell your lord I beg half an hour's conversation with him, when and where he pleases.

Colin. I shall do that; but you mun know, while I was on my way, I crossed upon a gentleman of no vulgar presence; and, considering be has sojourned for a pretty many years with none but such as we denominate barbarians, as courteous in his manners as your heart could wish.

Mort. That accounts for it. Well, what of him? Colin. With your leave, Maister Mortimer, he'll tell you his own errand: troth, he wull'd me introduce him to you: he's without.

Mort. Admit him.

Aub. Sir, your most humble servant. Can you forgive the intrusion of a stranger? Mort. A stranger, sir, is welcome: I cannot always say as much to an acquaintance.

Aub. I plainly see your experience of mankind by the value you put upon them.

Mort. True, sir; I've visited the world from arctic to ecliptic, as a surgeon does an hospital, and find all men sick of some distemper: the impertinent part of mankind are so busy, the busy so impertinent, and both so incurably addicted to lying, cheating, and betraying, that their case is desperate: no corrosive can eat deep enough to bottom the corruption.

Aub. Well, sir, with such good store of mental provision about you, you may stand out a siege against society; your books are companions you never can never be tired of.

Mort. Why, truly, their company is more tole rable than that of their authors would be; I can bear them on my shelves, though I should be sorry to see the impertinent puppies who wrote them: however, sir, I can quarrel with my books, too, when they offend my virtue or my reason. But I'm taking up your time; the honest Scotchman, who announced you, told me you had something of importance to communicate to me.

Aub. I have: I'm told I am your debtor, and I came with a design to pay you down such thanks as your benevolence well merits; but I perceive already you are one whom great professions would annoy, whose principle is virtue, and whose retri

bution arises from within.

Mort. Pray, sir, no more of this; if you have anything to request, propose it: I'd rather much be told what may do for you, than reminded of what I may have done.

Aub. I readily believe you; and, according to your humour, will address you: I own you may confer a benefit upon me; 'tis in your power, Mr. Mortimer, to make me happiest of all mankind.

Mort. Give me your hand; why now you speak | good sense; I like this well: let us do good, sir, and not talk about it; shew but how I may give happiness to you, with innocence to myself, and I shall be the person under obligation.

Aub. This, then, it is; you have a young person under your protection, a lady of the name of AuMort. I have. [brey

Aub. Resign her to my care. Mort. Sir! [can support her. Aub. Put her into my hands: I am rich, sir; I Mort. You're insolent, or grossly ignorant, to think I would betray a trust, a sacred trust: she is a ward of virtue; 'tis from want, 'tis from oppression, I protect Miss Aubrey-who are you, that think to make a traitor of me?

Aub. Your zeal does honour to you; yet if you persist in it, and spite of my protest hold out, your constancy will be no virtue; it must take another name. [tery, and tell me why. Mort. What other name? Throw off your mys

Aub. Because

Mort. Ay, let us hear your cause.
Aub. Because I am her father.
Mort. Do I live?

Aub. Yes, in my heart, while I have life or memory; that dear injured girl, whom you so honourably protect, is my daughter. The overflowings of a father's heart bless and reward you! You whom I know not, and that poor Highlander, out of his small pittance, have, under Providence, preserved my child; whilst Bridgemore, whom I raised from penury, and trusted with the earnings of my travel, has abandoned and defrauded her.

Mort. Oh! mother nature, thou'lt compel me to forswear thee.

Aub. Ah! sir, you feel the villany of man in every vein; I am more practised, and behold it only with a sigh: Colin and I have laid a little plot to draw this Bridgemore hither; he believes me dead, and thinks he is to meet a person at your house, who can relate particulars of my death; in which case, it is clear, he means to sink a capital consignment I sent him about three years since, and turn my daughter on the world.

Mort. Well, let him come; next to the satisfaction I receive in the prosperity of an honest man, I am best pleased with the confusion of a rascal. Enter TYRREL, hastily.

Tyr. Dear uncle, on my knees-What am I doing?
Mort. You thought I were alone.
Tyr. I did.

Mort. And what bad you to tell me in such haste? Tyr. I had a petition to prefer, on which my happiness in life depends.

Aub. I beg I may retire: I interrupt you. Mort. By no means: I desire you will not stir; let him make his request; if it is not fit for you to hear, it is not fit for me to grant. Speak out: nay, never hesitate.

Tyr. What can I ask of you but to confirm my hopes, and make Miss Aubrey mine?

Mort. Was ever the like heard? Pray whence do you derive pretensions to Miss Aubrey? Tell me in the presence of this gentleman.

Tyr. Not from my own deservings, I confess; yet, if an ardent, firm, disinterested passion, sanctified by her consent, can recommend me, I am not without some title.

Mort. Look you there now: this fellow, you shall know, sir, is my nephew; my sister's son; a child of fortune. Harkye! with what face do you talk of love, who are not worth a groat?

Tyr. You have allowed me, sir, to talk of love; openly, beneath your eye, I have solicited Miss Aubrey's consent, and gained it; as for my poverty, in that I glory, for therein I resemble her whom I adore; and I should hope, though fortune has not favoured us, we have not lost our title to the rights

of nature.

Mort. Pooh! the rights of nature! While you

enjoy its rights, how will you both provide against its wants?

Tyr. Your bounty hitherto has let me feel no wants; and should it be your pleasure to withdraw it, thanks to Providence, the world is not so scantily provided but it can give to honest industry a daily dinner.

Mort. Fine words! but I'll appeal to this good good gentleman; let him decide betwixt us.

Aub. In truth, young gentleman, your uncle has good reason on his side; and were I he, I never would consent to your alliance with Miss Aubrey, till she brought fortune enough to keep you both.

Tyr. These are your maxims, I've no doubt; they only prove to me that you love money more than beauty, generosity, or honour.

Aub. But is your lady in possession of all these? Let me be made acquainted with her, and perhaps I may come over to your sentiments.

Mort. Ay, Frank, go fetch your girl, and let my friend here see her; I'm in earnest. Upon my honour, nephew, till you've gained this gentleman's consent, you never can have mine; so go your ways, and let us see if you have interest enough to bring her hither.

Tyr. Oh! if my fate depends upon her looks, they must be iron hearts that can withstand them. [Exit. Aub. The manly and disinterested passion of this youth, while it possesses me strongly in his favour, gives an assurance of a virtuous conduct in my child: indeed, sir, I am greatly taken with your nephew.

Mort. Thank heaven, the boy, as yet, has never made me blush; and, if he holds his course, he may take one half of my fortune now, and t'other at my death. But see, sir, here your daughter comes.

Re-enter TYRREL, introducing MISS AUBREY. Tyr. You are obeyed; you see the lady, and you've nothing now to wonder at, but my presumption. Aub. To wonder at! I do behold a wonder! 'Tis her mother's image! Gracious Providence, this is too much! (Aside to Mort.) [visible.

Mort. You will alarm her; your disorder is too Aub. I cannot speak to her; I pray you let me bear her voice. [How have I offended? Miss A. Why am I sent for? Is your uncle angry? Aub. Hush, hush! she speaks; 'tis she herself, it is my long-lost wife restored and raised again. Mort. Pooh! what had I to do to meddle with these matters?

Miss A. Why does that gentleman regard me so attentively? His eyes oppress me; ask him if he knows me?

Tyr. Sir, if you know the lady, if you've any tidings to communicate that touch her happiness, oh! that I could inspire you with my feelings.

Aub. I knew your father, and am a witness to the hard necessity which tore him from an infant child, and held him eighteen tedious years in exile from his native land.

Miss A. What do I hear? You was my father's friend? The prayer and intercession of an orphan draw heaven's righteous benediction down upon you! [to tell you of your father. Aub. Prepare yourself, be constant. I have news Mort. I can't stand this: I wish I were anywhere else. (Aside.)

Tyr. Courage, my dear Augusta; my life upon it, there is happiness in store for thee.

Miss A. Go on, go on!

Aub. You are in an error; you are not an orphan; you have a father, whom, through toil and peril, through sickness and through sorrow, heaven has graciously preserved, and blest at length his unremitting labours with abundance.

Tyr. Did I not tell you this? Bear up.

Aub. Yes, virtuous Augusta, all your sufferings terminate this moment; you may now give way to love and happiness; you have a father living who approves your passion, who will crown it with a liberal fortune, who now looks upon you, speaks to you, embraces you. (Embraces her.)

Mort. There, there! I'm glad 'tis over. Joy befall you both.

Tyr. See how her colour flies: she'll faint. Aub. What have I done? Dear innocent, look up. Miss A. Oh! yes, to heaven with gratitude for these divine vouchsafements. I have a father, then, at last. Pardon my tears; I'm little used to happiness, and have not learned to bear it.

Tyr. May all your days to come be nothing else. But look, she changes again; help me to lead her into the air. [Tyrrel and Aubrey lead her out. Mort. I believe a little air will not be much amiss for any of us. Look at that girl; 'tis thas mortality encounters happiness; 'tis thus the inhabitant of earth meets that of heaven, with tears, with faintings, with surprise: let others call this the weakness of our nature; to me it proves the unworthiness; for had we merits to entitle us to happiness, the means would not be wanting to enjoy [Exit. ACT V.

it.

SCENE I.-The Hall in Lord Abberville's house. Enter LORD ABBERVILLE and COLIN MACLEOD. Lord A. 'Sdeath! sir, am I or you the master of this house? who made you judge what company is fit for me to keep? The gentlemen you excluded came by special invitation and appointment. Colin. Gentlemen!

Lord A. Ay, gentlemen. Were they not such? Colin. Under favour, I took 'em to be sharpers; I know your lordship always loses, and I've noticed that they always win.

Lord A. Impertinence! I had debts of honour to adjust with every one of them.

Colin. Hang 'em, base vermin! pay your poor tradesmen; those are debts of honour. (Aside.) Lord A. What is't you mutter? It was you, too, I suppose, that drove away my Jew, that came with money to discharge those debts.

Colin. That's true enow, gude faith; I promised him a beating, and I kept my word.

Lord A. Rascal, thou'rt born to be my plague. Colin. Rascal! your father never used that word. Lord A. On your life, name not him: my heart is torn with vultures, and you feed them: shall I keep a servant in my house to drive away my guests to curb my pleasures, my pursuits, and be a spy upon my very thoughts; to set that cynic Mortimer upon me, and expose me in the moments of my weakness to that snarling humorist? want no monitors to reproach me, my own thoughts can do that. [Exit.

Colin. Well, well! 'tis vary well! A rascal! Let it pass. Zooks! I'm the first Macleod that ever heard that word and kept my dirk within my girdle. Let it pass. I've seen the world, served a spendthrift, heard myself called rascal, and I'll now jog bock again across the Tweed, and lay my bones amongst my kindred in the isle of Skey; they're all that will be left of me, by then I reach the place. Enter LA JEUNESSE.

La Jeu. Ah! dere he stand, le pauvre Colin in disgrace! Ha, ha, ha! quelle spectacle! Ma foi, I must have one little word wid him at parting. Monsieur le Financier, courage; I am inform my lord have sign your lettre de cachet: vat of dat? the air of Scotland will be for your healt; England is not a country for les beaux esprits; de pure air of de Highlands will give you de grande appetit for de bonny clabber.

Colin. Take your jest, master Frenchman, at my countrymen, an welcome; the de'il a jest they made of you last war. [Exit. La Jeu. Yes; you are all adroit enough at war, but none of you know how to be at peace. [Exit. SCENE II.-An Apartment in Mortimer's house. MORTIMER, AUBREY, and NAPTHALI, discovered. Mort. And these are all the money dealings you have had with Lord Abberville?

Napth. That is the amount of his debt; the bonds and contracts are in Bridgemore's hands.

Mort. You see your money has not slept in Bridgemore's keeping; your consignment, Mr. Aubrey, is put to pretty good interest. (Mortimer looks over his papers.)

Napth. Aubrey! Is your name Aubrey, may I Aub. It is.

[ask? Napth. Have you had any dealings with Mr. Bridgemore?

Aub. To my cost. [Scanderoon? Napth. Did you consign him merchandize from Aub. I am the person who was guilty of that folly. [dead. Napth. Bridgemore, I believe, thought you were Aub. I take it for granted he would gladly have me so. But do you know anything of that consignment?

Napth. Eh! Do I know of it? I had better make a friend of him; 'tis up with Bridgemore, fait; there is no senses in serving him any longer. (Aside.) Why, you shall know, sir, I was Bridgemore's broker for your merchandize: here is the abstract of the net proceeds. (Gives a paper to Aub.)

Mort. That's lucky, as I live; I see an honest man can never want weapons to defeat a knave. And pray, sir, what might be your profit on this sale; double commission for a breach of trust; that is the rule of the trade, I think.

Napth. I work as others; I do nothing below market price.

Mort. You're right, sir; 'twould be starving many an honest family, if you made roguery too cheap; but get you gone together to my library; I observe a person coming who will interrupt you. Harkye! Mr. Aubrey, have an eye to our Jew. Aub. Trust him to me; I'm pretty well accustomed to their dealings. [Exit with Napth.

Enter DOCTOR DRUID. Dr. D. Save you, sir, save you; is it true, I pray you, that a learned gentleman, a traveller, but just arrived, is now with you?

Mort. There is a person under that description in my house.

Dr. D. May he be seen, good now? May he be talked with? What has he brought home? Is he well stored with oriental curiosities?

Mort. Faith, sir, indifferently well; he has brought a considerable parcel of sun-dried bricks from the ruins of ancient Babylon; a heavy collection of ores from the mines of Siberia, and a pretty large cargo of common salt from the banks of the Caspian. Dr. D. Inestimable!

Mort. Oh! sir, mere ballast.

Dr. D. Ballast, indeed; and what discoveries does he draw from all these?

Mort. Why, he has discovered that the bricks are not fit for building, the mines not worth the working, and the salt not good for preserving: in short, Doctor, he has no taste for these trifles; he has made the human heart his study; he loves his own species, and does not care if the whole race of butterflies were extinct.

Dr. D. Yes, putterflies! 'Tis in my mind, d've see? what you have said about my putterflies: 'us upon my memory; but no matter, your studies, Mr. Mortimer, and mine, are wide asunder. But go on, reform the world, you'll find it a tough task; I am content to take it as I find it.

Mort. While the sun shines, you'll carry a candle; how will that light them who travel in the night? Away with such philosophers, here comes an honest man, and that's a character worth ten on't.-[Enter COLIN MACLEOD.]-So,Colin, what's the news with you? If I'm to augur from your countenance, something goes wrong at your house.

Colin. Troth, sir, no mighty matter; only Laird Abberville has turned away a troublesome fellow, who bore your honour grete gude will.

Mort. What is't you tell me? Is my lord determined upon ruin, that he puts away the only honest man belonging to him?

Dr. D. By this coot light, and that is well re

membered; lookye, I've got your wages: come, hold out your hand.

Colin, Axcuse me, I'll ha' none on't.

Dr. D. No wages? Why, 'tis all coot money; 'tis in full. What, man, think better on't: you'll want it when you get to Scotland, ten to one else. Colin. Like enow; but by my sol, I'll touch na' siller he has geen a title to me, which I hanna' merited, heaven knows, nor ever shall.

Mort. What title has he given you?

Colin. Saving your presence, it ha' pleased my laird to say, I am a rascal; but I'll na' wear a rascal's wages in a Scottish pouch: de'il o'my soul, I'd sooner eat my stroud for famine.

Mort. I think thou wouldst; but wait awhile with patience; this rash young man's affairs press to a crisis; I have yet one effort more to make, which, if it fails, I shall take leave of him as well Enter JARVIS.

as you.

Jar. Lord Abberville desires to speak with you. Mort. That's well. Colin, go you with honest Jarvis. Doctor, for once let us unite our studies in this cause; come you with me; if my advice can rescue your unhappy pupil from a course of guilty occupations, your philosophy may furnish harmless ones to fill their place: make haste, make baste! here come the Bridgemores. [Exeunt. Enter a Servant, introducing BRIDGEMORE, his Wife, and Daughter.

Serv. Please to walk in here; my master will wait upon you immediately.

Bridge. Nobody here! Hark ye, friend, I expected to meet a stranger; a gentleman just landed from Scanderoon. Know you of such an one?

Serv. He is now in the house.

Luc. And Mr. Tyrrel, sir, is he at home? Serv. He is; they both will wait upon you presently.

Luc. Indeed, papa, you're very much mistaken. Mrs. B. Why, really, Mr. Mortimer, the parties should, at least, be suffered to consult each other's inclinations.

Mort. By all means; let them speak for themselves; 'tis their own cause, and they will plead it best. Harkye, come in: sir, these are the parties. Enter TYRREL and MISS AUBREY. Luc. Ah! [thorn? Mort. What ails you? have you trod upon a Mrs. B. Astonishing assurance! Augusta here? Mort. Yes; Francis Tyrrel and Augusta Aubrey. Do the names offend you? Look at the parties; are they not well matched? Examine them, they'll tell you they're agreed. Who shall forbid their union?

Luc. Who cares about it? If Mr. Tyrrel and the lady are agreed, that's enough: I suppose it is not necessary for us to be present at the ceremony.

Bridge. Ay, sir, I pray you, where's the occasion for us to be called in, because your nephew chooses to take up with an unworthy girl, that I once harboured upon charity?

Tyr. Hold your audacious tongue : let conscience keep you silent.

Miss A. Hush, hush! you frighten me: pray be composed; and let me own that no injustice, no severity, can wholly cancel what I owe to Mr. Bridgemore for his past protection, and that share of education he allowed me; but when he puts it to the account of charity, he takes a virtue foreign to his heart, and only aggravates the shame that's falling on him. [you answer? Mrs. B. Is the man thunderstruck; why don't Mort. Charity keeps him silent. Luc. Come, let's begone; her words have daggers in them, and her looks have poison.

Luc. Unless he brings his nephew in his hand.
Enter MORTIMER.

Mort. Ladies, you do me honour. Mr. Bridgemore, you come here upon a melancholy errand. Bridge. True, sir; but death, you know, is common to all men: I looked to meet a gentleman here; this is all lost time.

Mort. True; therefore, before he comes, let us fill it up with something more material: I have a business to propose to you, which I consider as my own. You must know, sir, I've a nephewBridge. Mr. Tyrrel, I suppose? Mort. The same.

[mission. Mrs. B. Mind that, Lucy, he is opening his comLuc. La! ma'am, you put me into such a flutter. Mort. There is a certain lady, Mr. Bridgemore, whom, on this occasion, you must father.

Bridge. How tedious he is. Couldn't he as well have named my daughter? (Aside.) Well, sir, what are your expectations from that lady?

Mort. Nay, nothing but what you can readily supply: I know no good thing she stands in want of, but a fortune.

Bridge. Well, and who doubts but, on a proper occasion, I shall give her one? ay, and a tolerable fortune, too, Mr. Mortimer, as times go.

Mort. The fortune you were to have given my ward, Lord Abberville, will just suffice: I think the sum were forty thousand pounds.

Bridge Why you speak out at once.

Mort. That's ever been my custom; I abominate long, sleepy processes; life don't allow of them.

Bridge. But I hear nothing on your part; Mr. Tyrrel, as I take it, is wholly dependant on your bounty; besides, affairs, as I conceive, are yet scarcely ripe.

Luc. Miss Aubrey, if it ever is your fate to have a rival, you will find an answer to that question. [Exit, with Mrs. B. Mort. Hold! you and I, sir, must not part. (To Bridgemore, as he is going.)

Bridge. Well, sir, your pleasure?

Miss A. I suffer for him; this is a scene I wish not to be present at.

[Exit.

Tyr. Well, Mr. Bridgemore, you that harboured my Augusta upon charity, I shall leave my uncle to discharge my obligations to you on that score, together with his own. [Exit.

Mort. Well, sir, we're now alone; and if it needs must be that one of us shall come to shame, 'tis well we are so. It is thought I am a hard unfeeling man; let it be so; you shall have justice notwithstanding: innocence requires no more. You are accused; defend yourself.

Bridge. Accused of what? and who is my accuser? Mort. A man; and you shall face him like a man. Who waits ?-[Enter Servant.]-Desire the stranger to come hither. [Exit Servant.] Fear nothing; we're enough to try this question; where the human heart is present, and the appeal is made to heaven, no jury need be summoned. Here is a stranger has the confidence to say, that your pretensions to charity are false; nay, he arraigns your honesty; a charge injurious to any man, but mortal to a trader, and levelled at the vital root of his profession.

Bridge. Ay, 'tis the Turkey merchant, I suppose; let him come in; I know upon what ground I stand, and am afaid of no mau living.

Mort. We shall try that. (Aside.) Do you know this gentleman ? Enter AUBREY.

Bridge. Aubrey! Aub. Thou wretch. Bridge. He lives!

Aub. To thy confusion.-Raised by the bounty