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the last moments of a deluded, heart-broken wife. Accept the tears of a father for the protection you have given to his child.

Hen. Her father! Are you, then, sir- ?

Bar. Yes, yes; say no more now. Spare me.--The heart that has been so long torpid in the sullenness of misfortune, can scarcely bear this aching surprise of the affections.

Hen. But have you intelligence, sir, concerning her ?

Bar. I have. A letter, which she writ to Mr. Tor. rent, who has just left us, gave me this morning much of her history.

Hen. Can we trace her?

Bar. Perhaps we may ; but I fear some treachery, even from the person who ostensibly protects her—this Torrent-'tis a hateful name! Come with me further into this house,-we must search every angle of it.

Hen. Rely on my activity.

Bar. Oh, young man! You are beginning to wake me from dreams of gloom, which I fear I have too much encouraged. Misfortunes have made me hate the world; but afflictions are the test of religious patience, and repining is impious, when Providence has ever so many unforeseen blessings in store for us. [Exeunt, i..

SCENE III.-An elegunt Apartment in Lord Alamode's

House. Enter Sir LARRY M’MURRAGH and TORRENT, R. Tor. (c.) But, Sir, you won't tell me whether you do or don't know any thing of her.

Sir L. (R. c.) That all comes of my having had my claret.

Tor. Had you claret?

Sir L. A man of fashion, you know, never bothers his head after dinner about business, without 'tis gaming.

Tor. But, zounds, sir, here's a beautiful girl lost; the whole country is running after her.

Sir L. Then, upon my conscience, the whole country has a deal of taste.

Tor. (Aside.] I can't tell what to make of this buck He seems half tipsy; and he either knows nothing about her, or too much. I'll at him again. Sir, my house. keeper, I tell you, was lost almost close to my park pales, this morning.


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Sir L. You'd have hindered that, if you'd just done as I did, a week ago.

Tor. What was that, sir?

Sir L. I lost my park itself, and every pale and stick about the good-looking premises.

Tor. Nay, sir, a truce with trifling. She is a poor, young, handsome creature, who

Sir L. Yes, I understand-She advertised, you told

Tor. Yes; she was among the numerous children of misfortune who wanted comfort.

Sir L. Och ! 'faith, there's no small lot of handsome ladies to be comforted, if a man gives his mind to pity. Quite a beauty, you say!

Tor. So they tell me; and her distresses, of course, must interest me.

Sir L. Ay-humanity, and charity, and all that. A retired citizen, you know, must be decorous.

Tor. A retired citizen !
Sir L. Snug, you know.

Tor. Damn snug! I can't tell what you mean. If humanity and charity be decorous in a retired citizen, his decorum is only what it was before he did retire. Look at the commercial names that swell every list of national subscriptions, and then tell me whether men of the highest rank do not acknowledge, with pleasure, the merchant's kindred ardour in the country's welfare.

Sir L. Long life and prosperity to the city, sir! say I. But take my advice as a friend,--don't be coming out, at moonsbine, after disiress'd young creatures, or, upon my soul, you'll bring a scandal upon the corporation.

Tor. I come out after- -Sir, my character has bid defiance to scandal these forty years.

Sir L. That's a mighty long provocation.
Tor. Zounds ! Sir, you'd provoke a parson.
Sir L. Then you may keep cool till you take orders,

you know.

Enter HENRY, L. Hen. (L.) You must pardon my abrupt entrance, sir, for I have pressing business.

Sir L. (a.) Oh, murder! I see how it is.

Hen. In which business I have a friend in the house who is jointly concern’d.

Sir L. The game's up: tell me at whose suit, you divel, at once.

Hen. Suit!

Tor. (R. C.) Eh! the young seaman I left just now in the hall.

Hen. There is a servant in this house, sir, from whom I have gather'd (thanks to his intoxication) that a female arrived here this morning on whom you have basely impos’d, and whom

Sir L. Asy, one moment, if you please, sir. We always take matters cool in Ireland, when it looks like a bit of a quarrel. May you chance to know who I am Sir ?

Hen. A baronet, whose appellation, the servant tells me, 'tis very hard to remember. I congratulate you on this difficulty, which, should your memoirs be publish'd, may prevent your name from being coupled with your transactions.

Sir L. It's my notion, one day, I'll print my memoirs myself, sir, and set my hand and seal to the back of 'em. Such a work, you know, must be address'd to the most impudent person born; and I hope you'll allow me the pleasure to write you a dedication.

Hen. In the mean time, sir, I have every reason to suppose that the female I have mention'd is still in this house: but the building is intricate. My friend is searching it on one side; I on the other. I have luckily stumbled on your apartments, and insist upon your immediately producing the person we seek, or giving me a strict account of your conduct.

Sir L. That same insist is rather an awkward bit of an expression. Indulge me, sir, in a trifling question : may you, by any chance, just happen to be a gentleman?

Hen. Birth and education give me a claim to that character. And I have never forfeited my title by practising fraud on an unprotected woman.

Sir L. That's quite enough.-Mr. Bang! [ Calling.]
And. [Without.] Zur.

Sir L. Bring in my pistols, and make haste with the cuffee. Enter ANDREW BANG, L., with coffee and pistols, which

he puts on the table at the back of the stage, c. Tor. I won't have any fighting. Se L. Don't you meddle, you old Cheapside,-Sure.

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we must have all in readiness, providing that gentleman don't think proper to make me a small matter of apology.

And. There be the coffee, Sir Larry, smoking hot.

Sir L. Set it down on the table, and take out, in your arms, that little old gentleman.

And. Where be I to carry un to, zur?
Tor. If any body dare to-

Sir L. Fie upon you! Keep the peace ! I am wishing to show you all manner of respect: so, till this business is over (which is not decent for you to see), what part of the house will we bind you over to ?

And. There be plenty of room for him in our henhouse.

Sir L. Then, by the powers, I'll send him to the Poultry.

Tor. Gentlemen, you think the game is in your own hands !-But I shall not suffer you to commit murder.

Sol. [Without, R.] Murder ! Murder !
Sir L. Sure that's an echo!

Tor. Then you've brought it with you from Ireland; for 'tis as different from the reverberation of sound, as a cart-load of iron bars and an opera-singer.

Enter SOLOMON GUNDY, R. Solomon Gundy! What the devil's the matter with you now?

Sol. There's a tame goat in the gallery:
Tor. Well ?

Sol. As I was imploring, in the dark, through the intricacies of this chateau, he butted me down as flat as a six-liver-piece.

Bar. (r. c.) This way the lights direct me; and I

Sir L. (c.) 'Faith, now, and here's another.-Is it a lady you are asking after, or are you running away from a goat in the gallery?

Bar. It is a lady, sir, I am seeking.

Sir L. I'm just going to give this gentleman an explanation of the whole affair in one word.

Bar. What is that one word, sir.

Sir L. Pop-a long Irish phrase, that stands for the English monosyllable, satisfaction.

Tor. No, you don't.- Come here, you drunken gamekeeping rascal !—There are two pistols-take them away --there's a guinea, -and now, go to the devil.

And. A guinea! I'd better go to the alehouse.

[Exit, L. Bar. [To Sir Larry.] I conceive, sir, you are possessed of some intelligence of the person whom we are anxious to discover.

Hen. (L.) I am convinced he is.
Tor. So am I.
Bar. Are you a father, sir?

Sir L. Upon my soul, sir, that's a mighty difficult question to answer.

Bar. Levity apart, sir, I am the father of the young person for whom we anxiously inquire. If you have any thing to disclose relative to my daughter, let me invoke your humanity, rather than suspect your subterfuge. Sir L. This is the case, sir, you see.

Does an Irishman like a pretty woman? Sure, sir, he does : but, when he's bullied by a wicked advertising alderman on one side of him, and a man in trousers on the other, damn the bit of answer will he give--I-give me your hand, sir-there's no standing a father's asking for his child. Sir, I'm a gentleman, a little wild, perhaps. But upon my honour and conscience, she's safe : and, damn me, if an Irish gentleman will ever do a dirty action.

Bar. But, is my daughter in this house ?

Sir L. Hollo there, ask old Carrydot where's the young lady?

Enter JONATHAN OLDSKIRT, conducting FANNY, L. Old. I've got her! I've got her! I've got her! I've bunted all the neighbourhood, and, burn all my remnants, rather than not find her.

Fan. [To Oldskirt.] Under your protection, sir, I venture again into this gentleman's apartment;-but whom else I am to meet,--[Sees Henry.] Henry! Ah! Hen. [Runs to her, c.] You encounter none but friends. Fan. Whither have youHen. Cease, -cease to inquire now-my heart is too full ; but here is one who claims every immediate attention.

Bar. [Singles her out, and brings her forward, c.) You -'tis fifteen years since you were torn from me, in-I mean, young lady, that i-Oh God! my child ! my child!

[Falls on her neck. Fan. My father!

[Oldskirt dances, L. Tor. [Dances, R.C.] Tol de riddle lol, lol, &c. Whoever

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