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Julia.

Ah! I dare not. Blood!

Or. Yes, thou dear false one, with the noblest
That ever stain'd a dark assassin's hand. [blood
Had not thy letter with the guilty message
To meet thee here this hour, blinded my honour,
And wrought my passion into burning phrensy,
Whole worlds should not have bribed me.
Letter and message?
Julia.

I sent thee none.
Or.
Then Bertrand has betrayed me!
And I have done a deed beyond all reach,
All hope of mercy-I have murder'd Rivers.

Julia. Oh! (She falls into her maid's arms.)
Or. O rich reward which love prepares for
Thus hell repays its instruments! [murder !
Enter GUILDFORD with servants.
Guild.
Where is he?
Where is this midnight murderer? this assassin?
This is the place Orlando's servant nam'd.

Or. The storm comes on. 'Tis Guildford, good old man!

Behold the wretch accurst of heaven and thee. Guild. Accurst of both indeed. How, Julia fainting!

Or. She's pure as holy truth; she was deAnd so was I. [ceiv'd, Guild.

Who tempted thee to this?
Or. Love, hell, and Bertrand.
Julia. (recovering.) Give me back my Rivers;
I will not live without him. Oh, my father!
Guild. Father! I'm none; I am no more a
father ;

I have no child; my son is basely murder'd,
And my sweet daughter, at the fatal news,
Is quite bereft of reason.

Or.
Seize me, bind me:
If death's too great a mercy, let me live:
Drag me to some damp dungeon's horrid gloom,
Deep as the centre, dark as my offences;
Come, do your office, take my sword; oh, Ber-
trand,

Yet, ere I perish, could it reach thy heart!
(They seize ORLANDO.)
Julia. I will not long survive thee, oh, my
Rivers!
VOL. I.

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'Tis he, 'tis he! JULIA and RIVERS run into each other's arms. ORLANDO breaks from the guards, and falls on his knees.

Or. He lives, he lives the godlike Rivers lives!

Hear it, ye host of heaven! witness, ye saints!
Recording angels, tell it in your songs;
Breathe it, celestial spirits, to your lutes,
That Rivers lives!
Julia.

Explain this wondrous happiness? Riv. 'Twas Bertrand whom Orlando killed the traitor

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Has with his dying breath confess'd the whole.
Or. Good sword, I thank thee!
Riv.
In the tangled maze
Orlando miss'd the path he was to take, [ceal'd
And pass'd through that where Bertrand lay con-
To watch th' event: Orlando thought 'twas me,

And that I play'd him false : the walk was dark.
With which he meant to take my life; but how
In Bertrand's bloody hand I found this dagger,

Were
you alarm'd?
Guild.
One of Orlando's men,
Whom wealth could never bribe to join in mur-
Or. Murder! I bribe to murder? [der-
Riv.
No; 'twas Bertrand
Brib'd them to that curst deed; he lov'd my
Or. Exquisite villain !
[sister.
Guild.
Fly to Emmelina,
If any spark of reason yet remain,
Tell her the joyful news. Alas, she's here!
Wildly she flies! Ah, my distracted child!

Enter EMMELINA distracted.

Em. Off, off! I will have way! ye shall not
hold me:

I come to seek my lord; is he not here?
Tell me, ye virgins, have ye seen my love,
Or know you where his flocks repose at noon?
My love is comely-sure you must have seen
him;

'Tis the great promiser! who vows and swears; The perjur'd youth! who deals in oaths and breaks them.

In truth he might deceive a wiser maid.
I lov'd him once; he then was innocent;
He was no murderer then, indeed he was not;
He had not kill'd my brother.
Riv.
Nor has now;
Thy brother lives.
Em.
I know it—yes, he lives
Among the cherubim. Murd'rers too will live;
But where? I'll tell you where-down, down,
down, down.

How deep it is! 'tis fathomless—'tis dark!
No-there's a pale blue flame-ah, poor Or-
Guild. My heart will burst.
[lando!
Or.
Pierce mine, and that will ease it.
Em. (comes up to her father.) I knew a maid
who lov'd-but she was mad-
Fond, foolish girl! Thank heav'n, I am not mad ;
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I never saw my father weep but once;
I'll tell you when it was. I did not weep;
'Twas when but soft, my brother must not
know it.
'Twas when his poor fond daughter was refus'd.
Guild. Who can bear this?
Or.
I will not live to bear it.
Em. (comes up to ORLANDO.) Take comfort,
thou wretch! I'll not appear
poor
Against thee, nor shall Rivers; but blood must,
Blood will appear; there's no concealing blood.
What's that? my brother's ghost-it vanishes;
(Catches hold of RIVERS.)
Stay, take me with thee, take me to the skies;
I have thee fast; thou shalt not go without me.
But hold-may we not take the murd❜rer with us?

That look says-No. Why then I'll not go with thee.

gone.

Yet hold me fast-'tis dark-I'm lost-I'm
(Dies.)
Or. One crime makes many needful; this
day's sin
Blots out a life of virtue. Good old man!
My bosom bleeds for thee; thy child is dead,
And I the cause. 'Tis but a poor atonement;
But I can make no other. (Stabs himself.)
Riv.
What hast thou done?
Or. Fill'd up the measure of my sins. Oh,
mercy!

Eternal goodness, pardon this last guilt!
Rivers, thy hand!—farewell! forgive me,
heaven!

Yet is it not an act which bars forgiveness,
And shuts the door of grace for ever?-Oh!

(The curtain falls to soft music.)

(Dies,)

EPILOGUE,

WRITTEN BY R. B. SHERIDAN, ESQ.-SPOKEN BY MR. LEE LEWES.

UNHAND me, gentlemen, by heaven, I say,
I'll make a ghost of him who bars my way.
[Behind the scenes.
Forth let me come-A poetaster true,
As lean as envy, and as baneful too;
On the dull audience let me vent my rage,
Or drive these female scribblers from the stage.
For scene or history, we've none but these,
The law of liberty and wit they seize;
In tragic-comic-pastoral-they dare to please.
Each puny bard must surely burst with spite,
To find that women with such fame can write;
But, oh, your partial favour is the cause,
Which feeds their follies with such full applause.
Yet still our tribe shall seek to blast their fame,
And ridicule each fair pretender's aim
Where the dull duties of domestic life
Wage with the muse's toils eternal strife.

;

What motley cares Corilla's mind perplex,
While maids and metaphors conspire to vex!
In studious dishabille behold her sit,
A letter'd gossip, and a housewife wit;
At once invoking, though for different views,
Her gods, her cook, her milliner, and muse.
Round her strew'd room a frippery chaos lies,
A checker'd wreck of notable and wise;
Bills, books, caps, couplets, combs, a varied mass,
Oppress the toilet, and obscure the glass;
Unfinish'd here an epigram is laid,
And there a mantuamaker's bill unpaid :

There, dormant patterns pine for future gauze ;
A moral essay now is all her care,
A satire next, and then a bill of fare:
A scene she now projects, and now a dish,
Here's act the first-and here remove with
Now while this eye in a fine phrensy rolls, [fish.
That, soberly casts up a bill for coals;
Black pins and daggers in one leaf she sticks,
And tears, and thread, and balls, and thimbles
mix.

Sappho, 'tis true, long vers'd in epic song,
For years esteem'd all household studies wrong;
When dire mishap, though neither shame nor sin,
Sappho herself, and not her muse, lies in.
The virgin Nine in terror fly the bower,
And matron Juno claims despotic power;
Soon Gothic hags the classic pile o'erturn,
A caudle-cup supplants the sacred urn ;
Nor books nor implements escape their rage,
They spike the inkstand, and they rend the page;
Poems and plays one barbarous fate partake,
Ovid and Plautus suffer at the stake,
And Aristotle's only sav'd-to wrap plumcake.

Yet, shall a woman tempt the tragic scene?
And dare-but hold-I must repress my spleen;
I see your hearts are pledg'd to her applause,
While Shakspeare's spirit seems to aid her

cause;

Well pleas'd to aid-since o'er his sacred bier A female hand did ample trophies rear, Here newborn plays foretaste the town's ap- And gave the greenest laurel that is worshipp'd

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plause,

there,

POEMS.

MORNING SOLILOQUY.

The following lines were written by Hannah More for her own use, in early life; but a copy having been given to a friend, the author was importuned to print it. She complied, and prefixed to the piece the following

"As early rising is very conducive to health, and to the improvement of the mind in knowledge and piety, this soliloquy is designed to promote so important an end; and is recommended more particularly to young persons, as, by contracting a habit of rising early in the days of their youth, they would be less liable to depart from such a custom as they advance in life. The last stanza is expressive of the action of rising, in order that those who repeat it may have no excuse for not quitting their beds immediately."

SOFT slumbers now mine eyes forsake,
My powers are all renew'd;

May my freed spirit too awake,

With heavenly strength endued!

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Teach me in health each good to prize,
I, dying, shall esteem;
And every pleasure to despise

I then shall worthless deem.

For all thy wondrous mercies past
My grateful voice I raise,
While thus I quit the bed of rest
Creation's Lord to praise.

ON MR. SHAPLAND,

An eminent Apothecary in Bristol.

WOULDST thou inquire of him who sleeps beneath, [dust,

This tomb shall tell thee, 'tis no common That, crush'd at length by oft defeated death,

Fills the cold urn committed to its trust.

Stranger! this building fallen to decay,
Was once the dwelling of an honest mind-
A spirit cheerful as the light of day—
The soul of friendship-milk of human kind.
His art torbade th' expiring wretch to die,
Empower'd the nerveless tongue once more
to speak,

Restor'd its lustre to the sunken eye,

And spread fresh roses on the livid cheek

Each various duty bound on social man,

'Twas his with glowing duty to perform, As crystal pure, his stream of conduct ran, Unstain'd by folly, undisturb'd by storm. With me, then, stranger! mourn departed worth;

Steel'd is the heart that can forbear to sigh; Let deep regret call all thy sorrows forth

Live as he liv'd-and fear not then to die.*

* Dr. Stonhouse had the highest esteem for Mr. Shapland, who attended his family, as well as that of Mrs. More, even after he had left off general practice. Dr. Stonhouse, in 1789, presented to Mr. Shapland a piece of plate "as a testimony of his gratitude for the restoration of health, through the blessing of God."

END OF VOL. I.

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