FALL OF THE CURTAIN.

DOLBY, Printer, 17, Catherine-street, Strand, London.

needles, and kept ourselves from idle thoughts: before I was your age, I had finished with my own fingers a complete set of chairs and a fire-screen in tent-stitch: four counterpanes in Marseilles quilting; and the creed and the ten commandments in the hair of our family: it was framed and glaz'd, and hung over the parlour chimney-piece, and your poor, dear grandfather was prouder of it than e'er a picture in his house. [Crosses to R.] I never looked into a book, but when I said my prayers, except it was the Complete Housewife, or the great family receipt-book: whereas you are always at your studies! Ah, I never knew a woman come to good that was fond of reading. [Crosses to L.

Luc. Well, pray, madam, let me prevail on you to give me the key to let Mr. Eustace out, and I promise I never will proceed a step further in this business without your advice and approbation.

Mrs. D. Have not I told you already my resolution? Where are my clogs and my bonnet? I'll go out to my brother in the fields; I'm a fool, you know, child; now let's see what the wits will think of themselves.Don't hold me. [Exit, L.

Luc. I'm not going; I have thought of a way to be even with you, so you may do as you please. [Exit, R. Hodge. Comes forward, walks about.]-Well, I thought it would come to this, I'll be shot if I didn't -So here's a fine job-But what can they do to me?They can't transportation me.-They can't send me to gaol for carrying a letter, seeing, there was no treason in it; and how was I obliged to know my master did not allow of their meetings?-The worst they can do is to turn me off, and I am sure the place is no such great purchase-indeed, I should be sorry to leave Mrs. Rosetta, seeing as how matters are so near being brought to an end betwixt us; but she and may keep company all as one: and I find Madge has been speaking with Gaffer Broadwheels, the waggoner, about her carriage up to London: so that I have got rid of she, and I am sure I have reason to be main glad of it, for she led me a wearisome life-But that's the way with them all.

AIR.

A plague o'these wenches, they make such a pother,
When once they have let'n a man have his will;
They're always a whining for something or other,
And cry he's unkind in his carriage.

Belmour. "Tis he himself! he lives! look up.

Act V. Scene 2.

White, Sc.

A TRAGEDY.

En Five Acts.

BY NICHOLAS ROWE.

PRINTED FROM THE ACTING COPY, WITH REMARKS,
BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL, BY D-G.

To which are added,

A DESCRIPTION OF THE COSTUME,-CAST OF THE CHARACTERS, ENTRANCES AND EXITS,-RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORMERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE

BUSINESS.

As now performed at the

THEATRES ROYAL, LONDON.

EMBELLISHED WITH A FINE WOOD ENGRAVING,

By Mr. WHITE, from a Drawing taken in the Theatre by
Mr. R. CRUIKSHANK.

LONDON:

JOHN CUMBERLAND, 19, LUDGATE HILL.

sir, you may fret and dance about, trot at the rate of fifteen miles an hour, if you please; but, marry whip me, I am resolved

Enter HAWTHORN and ROSETTA, R.

Haw. (R.) Here is the lady, Sir William.

Sir W. (R.) Come in, madam; but turn your face from him-he would not marry you because he had not seen you but I'll let him know my choice shall be his, and he shall consent to marry you before he sees you, or not an acre of estate-Pray, sir, walk this way.

Young M. (L.) Sir, I cannot help thinking your conduct a little extraordinary; but since you urge me so closely, I must tell you my affections are engaged. Sir W. How, Tom, how? And pray, sir, who are your affections engaged to? Let me know that.

Young M. To a person, sir, whose rank and fortune may be no recommendation to her, but whose charms and accomplishments entitle her to a monarch. I am sorry, sir, it's impossible for me to comply with your commands, and I hope you will not be offended if I quit your presence.

Sir W. Not I, not in the least: go about your busi

ness.

Young M. Sir, I obey.

Haw. Now, madam, is the time.

[ROSETTA advances.

round and sees her.

YOUNG MEADOWS turns

AIR.-ROSETTA.

When we see a lover languish,
And his truth and honour prove,
Ah! how sweet to heal his anguish,
And repay him love for love.

Sir W. (c.) Well, Tom, will you go away from me

now?

Haw. (R.) Perhaps, Sir William, your son does not like the lady; and, if so, pray don't put a force upon his inclination.

Young M. (c.) You need not have taken this method, sir, to let me see you are acquainted with my folly, whatever my inclinations are.

Sir W. (L. c.) Well but, Tom, suppose I give my consent to your marrying this young woman!