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I begged

ances in the room below." No time was to be lost. he might be sent me without delay.




I was absorbed in the contemplation of the narrow escape I had so recently made, after baving been busily engaged in reading directions for the recovery of drowned persons, in Lumsden's Pocket Memorandum Book, when the door opened suddenly, and my adorner appeared.

We really feel some qualms of conscience at inserting the following Parody on the elegant stanzas with which we treated our readers on Friday last, and which have already received so many compliments from the public Press. It is the fate, bowever, of all our best poetry to be parodied; and the simple fact of this sweet Serenade being so soon taken up for the purpose, is, perhaps, the greatest compliment that could have been paid to it. The Jamaica-Street Bridge is the subject of the Parody, while the Wakeful Knight and the Snoozing Sage are too well known to require aught more from us than to say, that like the last jeu d'esprit, we mean no disrespect to either, since for the talents of both gentlemen we entertain the highest respect.

He was of gigantic dimensions--whiskers of prodigious growth; his eyes seemed to float in a pure liquid that surrounded themhis upper líp was covered with snuff, wbilst his lower trembled and quivered as he approached. I recommended my hair first to his notice ; but towards the concluding curl he leaned over me, and I inhaled such an odour of mingled rum, whisky, and porter', that for a moment I was entirely deprived of speech. By the time I recovered, he had soaped all my chin, for the purpose of removing its birsute appendages; but I began to fear that my life was again in peril, when he flourished a monstrous razor in the air. As he approached once more with the soap-brush, I opened my mouth to remonstrate, when he popped it into my throat, and at once put an end to my oration. I was now certain he was drunk. How was I to proceed? Like the bloated spider eyeing the poor gnat just entangled in his wiles, there he stood, with the enormous razor in his hand. I recovered my speech, and modestly and timidly enquired if he really thought he could shave me? “ Shave you !” he exclaimed, “ Shave you! why, I could shave the devil!" and seizing me by the nose, after six enormous strokes, he affirmed there was not a smoother chin in the parish. I cannot describe the relief I experienced at this declaration, and never in my life did I pay two and sixpence with greater pleasure, although it was more than four times the sum to which he was entitled, than on the present occasion.

Wake, Doctor, wake!
Deaf Dock, awake,

Iroin this wild dream;
For 'neath thy shop, 'mid raiu's cold drop,

Pours anatheme,
The city's fearless forlorn Hope,

'Gainst this mad scheme;
Wake, Doctor, wake!

Wake, Doctor, wake!
For thy own sake;

All Clyde-Street cits
Look now on high, for equity;

While groups of wits
Turn upon thee their piercing eye,

To pen smart hits.
Wake, Doctor, wake!

Rise, Doctor, rise!
No Baillie cries

Now rise to thee;
A bolder voice now makes a noise,

And heard must be,
Oh! that my voice would fix thy choice

To follow me!
Rise, Doctor, rise !

I now had recourse to my travelling bag, and equipped myself in my nice, new, tight, trig, cassimeres. My friend Richard Reef and I went together to the ball, given under the patronage of the Members of the Royal Northern Yacht Club. It was, to say the truth, my first appearance upon such a stage, and I had all the anxiety of a youthful actor. But, when I entered the dancing hall, every other feeling was lost in wonder and admiration. The flags of all nations formed a splendid canopy at one end of the room, near to which stood a number of Members of the Club, by whose graceful manners and tasteful dress, I felt myself, tights and all, in some danger of being eclipsed. We advanced to the centre of the room.

Rise, Doctor, rise !
Ere city cries

Fright land and sea.
To-morrow's light sees valiant knight-

Even modest me-
Entering the field of stormy fight,

To war 'gainst thee.
Rise, Doctor, rise !

“Look," cried Reef, “to the graceful swim of that angel in the quadrille! Behold those sparkling eyes, half obscured by the raven locks that seek to sun themselves in their lustre! Observe that heaven-born smile on the lips of that lovely girl, still between the spring and summer of her existence, when youth hath no sorrow because all is pure and innocent within; envied, indeed, be that happy swain, on whose arm she leans. here is my friend Miss -, allow me to introduce you, and now you shall be our vis a vis in a quadrille.” Cunningham immediately played “di tanti," and I, in a moment, was in the midst of the dance.

Mute, Doctor, mute !
I have no flute

Nor whistle small
To wake thy gob 'gainst this fell job;

Nor can I bawl :
With bat on bead, and band in fob,

On thee I call,
Mute, Doctor, mute !

But come,

Mute, Doctor, mute
To my just suit-

So much disdain !
What ? --- subject to the winter's breath

Must I remain
To catch a cold-perhaps my death,

By Chol'ra slain ?
Mute, Doctor, Mute !

Sorry am I to say, that the guinea I paid for my tivelve private lessons in the “first set," proved to be money thrown to the dogs.

Snooze, Doctor, snooze !
While I abuse

This scheme of thine.
Till o'e the Lairds, with new-sbaved beards,

And gold-chained Nine,
By playing well my trumping cards,

The game be mine!
Snooze, Doctor, snooze !

In the third figure I entirely lost my powers of recollection, and, although my partner smiled, and beckoned, and pointed, neither my presence of mind nor my memory, was in the slightest degree recalled. I had always been great, at least my instructor said so, in the pas de Basque, I made a vigorous effort to retrieve my character by its performance-unfortunately, I bad commenced with the wrong foot-chis brought me, unwittingly, in direct collision with young Reef, and we fell together on the floor.Oh! how I blushed. A tull Irish gentleman came up to me, and, after inquiring if I were not hurt, begged to know the cause of my misfortune-I told him Reef and I had each new shoes. “ By St. Patrick,” he exclaimed smilingly, to a lovely girl by bis side, “ By St. Patrick! I thought they were a pair of shippers.

Snooze, Doctor, snooze !
Nor learn the news

From happy me.
The mighty Bell sounds thy last knell,

O'er street and quay.
When next he speaks 'twill be to tell

The Bridge is free!
Snooze, Doctor, snooze!


We are credibly informed that certain ladies appear at the breakfast table with their hair en papillottes. Such a species of dishabille, it is hoped, for the future, will disappear befor the arrival of the « Day."

A witling, t'other day, after having read our notice on the cholera, dryly intimated that he had at last discovered the Editor of the « Day" to be Dr. Daun !

LITERARY INTELLIGENCE. Mr. Robinson announces a new Work, upon Gate Lodges in the Old English Style, as a Continuation of his “ Rural Architecture.” The Second Part of the new Vitruvius Britannicus, by the same author, it also nearly ready, containing the History of Hatfield House, &c. This Work will prove a valuable addition to all Topographical Libraries.

MR. HAYWARD, of the Inner-Temple, bas in the Press “ The Acts relating to Pleading and Practice about to be founded on the Common Law Reports," with Introductory Observations and Notes.

MR. SAMOUELLE's new Work, “ The Entomological Cabinet," is in the Press, and the first Number will soon make its appear



“ The Pilgrim's Progress from This World to that which is To Come,” will shortly be published in Numbers.

“ Observations on the Pestilential Cholera,” as it appeared at Sunderland in the months of Nov. 'and Dec., and on the measures which were taken for its prevention and cure, are preparing for publication by Mr. Ainsworth.

A Guide to the “Lions" of London, or the Stranger's Diregtory to St. Paul's, Westminster Abbey, the Zoological Gardens and Regent's Park, the Surrey Zoological Gardens, the Tower, the Bazaars, the Diorama, the Colosseum, the Theatres, the Thames Tunnel, &c. &c. With numerous Illustrations of the different places and objects, designed and engraved by G. W. Bonner," will shortly appear.


Description or Bolivar's OFFICERS.-" The native officers,' by whom he was surrounded, were chiefly men of colour, of lighter or darker shades, except the two Generals, Paez and Urdenata, who are white. Few of them had any jackets. Their usual dress consisted of a shirt, made of handkerchief-pieces of different colours, and generally of checked patterns, very ample in size, and with wide sleeres, worn outside large white drawers, which reached below the knee ; and a hat made cogollo, or split palm leaves, with plumes of variegated feathers. They were almost all barefooted; but every one wore large silver or brass spurs, with rowels of at least four inches in diameter, and some of even inore extravagant dimensions. They generally wore under their hats coloured silk or cotton handkerchiefs, for the purpose of shading their faces from the sun; although, to all appearance, their spreading sombreros might have afforded sufficient shelter for such dark complexions. We afterwards found, however, that dark as they all were, (and several were even quite black,) they could not endure the severe heat so well as most of the English. One of Paez's favourite cavalry officers, Colonel Juan Gomez, bad a belmet given him by that general, the casque of which was of beaten gold, the work of some rude country artist. Another who commanded his body-guard, Colonel Jose Carbajal, wore a silver helmet ; and many officers and distinguished soldiers had silver scab. bards to their sabres, besides silver stirrups and weigbty ornaments of the same metal on their bridles.” —Campaigns in Venezuela.

A Risible PRECAUTION.-A circumstance happened during an action which gave Bolivar one of the few hearty laughs which we ever saw him indulge in. A tall, stout Scots officer, named P. Grant, who found it very dull to keep in close attendance on Bolivar, strayed into the wood, near the city, to reconnoitre on his own account. Here he saw a Spanish soldier in hasty retreat towards the gates, leading a loaded mule and instantly gave chase to him. The affrighted royalist threw hiinself on his knees, and begged for quarter, pleading that he was a musician ; he also, observing that he was not understood, produced a clarionet from his pocket, and gave proof of his abilities to his captor’s satisfaction. Grant knew that such a prize would be acceptable to Bolivar, but be could not think of losing the mule, which he had ascertained to be loaded with the skins of aguardiente, and which had trotted off during the parley between its late and present master. He therefore tied the trembling musician to a tree, directing him, with bitter threats, not to cease playing until he returned, that he might be sure his hands were not employed in untying his bonds; and, having overtaken the mule, brought both his prizes in triumph to our side of the field.--Ibid.

Invention of Cards.-Cards, it is said, were invented for the amusement of Charles V. The alleged origin of the invention of cards, produced one of the shrewdest replies I have ever heard given in evidence. It was made by the late Dr. Gregory, of Edinburgh, to a counsel of great eminence at the Scottish Bar. The Dr.'s testimony went to prove the insanity of the party whose mental capacity was the point at issue. On a cross-interrogation, he admitted, that the person in question played admirably at whist.

And do you seriously say, Doctor,” said the learned counsel, “that a person having a superior capability for a game so dificult, and which requires, in a pre-eminent degree, memory, judgment, and combination, can be at the same time deranged in his understanding ?” “I am no card player," said the doctor, with great address, “but I have read in history that cards were invented for the amusement of an insane king.' The consequences of this reply was decisive.--Sir Walter Scott.

Poureu.—During the progress of the excavations in the “ Casa del Fanno," on the 24th of October last, a large painting, in mosaic of extraordinary beauty, was discovered. It is about sixteen feet eight inches in width, and eight feet in height; and the human tigares, which it depicts, are half the size of life. The King of Naples went to inspect it in company with bis sisters, and expressed himself in the highest degree delighted with the acquisition of so splendid a specimen of ancient art.— Athenæum.

"Hold your tongue for a fool,said an amiable lady to her Lord one evening, in a family party. “I am silent,” he replied, " as your Ladyship is about to speak."- World of Fashion.

Vipers A BROAD.—“It's a fine warm day,” said Hunt, meeting an acquaintance last summer. “ It generally is when vipers are abroad," retorted the other.

Sir Walter Scott.— When the Baronet was urged not to prop the falling credit of his acquaintance, he replied, “ The man was my friend when my friends were few, and I will be his now that his enemies are many."

~ The Lover's Dream,” by Ascanius, is too dreamy for our columns. We would counsel our correspondent, when he next bestrides Pegasus, to take a ride in the light of the “ Day." Let us, above all, advise him not to enter the nightly lists with our poetical knight.

“ The Reverie of a Genius" has been received, and is under consideration.

A Mother's Death and Blessing," from the MS. autobiography of an Orphan, will appear on Saturday.

« V's" Epistle has been received. We suspect that the Symposium he alludes to at the Coalhole has had the effect of injuring his memory. The story he sends us of the Laird of Garscadden is as old as the sixty-third edition of Josephus Millarius of happy memory. We shall avail ourselves however of the singular epitaph which he sends us, and shall place it among our Reminiscences. Perhaps“ V.” might furnish us with something better. A “ Finish” at the Coal-hole, we are certain, he could give us with all the con amore spirit of a true son of Bacchus.

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ated truly great, except her Tombs? The ruins of ages,

and the memorials of the mighty past, are mute to those There is given,

who are the victims of sloth, or who tremble to drag Unto the things of carth which Time hath lent,

themselves from amid that effeminate languor, in which, A spirit's feeling; and where he hath leant His hand, but broke his scythe, there is a power

from infancy they have vegetated. But you, into And magic in the ruined battlement: For which the palace of the present hour

whose bosom the divine flame of taste and knowledge Must yield its pomp, and wait till ages are its doom.

has penetrated, can truly comprehend the eloquent language of each ruin and each tomb.* Yes, your ear

would have well uuderstood the voice which issued We have heard enough perhaps about Italy from our

from the gloom of the Scipios' sepulchre, calling to recolown locomotive countrymen, but we acknowledge we

lection, the magnanimous victories of those warriors, could yet listen to the travellers of other nations with

their modest mildness in prosperity, their unconquersomething like curiosity. We would like to see, for

able constancy in adversity; and you would have sighexample, Rome through the spectacles of a German,

ed to think that, amid the ashes of this or the lorgnettes of a Frenchman, and could yet indulge


of heroes,

the bones of him who conquered Carthage were awantin the classical-associating reveries of the Italian, amid

ing. Impressed with religious awe, I slowly wanderthe ruins of the land which has been for centuries

ed through its gloomy corridores, and when at length, “ Sempre il premio della vittoria.' T'other night, in search of something striking for

impelled by curiosity, I stretched forth an arm to put

niy hand within an open urn, and found it full of crumbled the Day, we pounced upon the lately published letters

bones and ashes, I felt an icy chill pervade my inmost of Signor Dandolo on Venice, Florence, Rome and

frame. The fragments instantly dropt from my grasp Naples, and, although we find these written in accord

into their time-hallowed receptacle, and I experienced ance with the inflated style of the modern Aussonian writers, we thought we could not do better than tran

a pang of remorse for having dared to touch, with so slate a chapter from a work so much admired in Italy.

profane a hand, such noble relics.

“ You would have likewise heard the self-same voice What our readers may think of the following epistle, we cannot pretend to say, but we may tell them that

less loud, but far more touching, speaking from amid

the silence of the catacombs. In this inextricable labythe style of its author is what is best suited to Italian

rinth of subterranean vaults, the heart is filled with taste and Italian feeling. The inhabitants of the “ Land

sacred awe and sacred recollections. Once the vaultwhere the Orange-tree blossoms,” are at the present moment chiefly attracted by the expression of deep

ed roof of this wide cavern proved the line of separapassion and patriotic melancholy. Under such feelings,

tion betwixt its neglected inmates and the universe

around. The march of armies, the noise of triumphal prose, in their soft and musical language, becomes poetry, and what might perhaps appear rhodomontade

cars, the pomp of emperors were scarcely felt or heed

ed within these murky and secluded recesses. The and extravagance to us, is nothing more than the common food that is required to meet the cravings of mor

catacombs in fact was the chief theatre where the pribid sensibilities :

mitive christians testified their resignation and their “ Rome, a name sacred to every Italian heart. Im

virtues,—virtues, which, in the eye of an omniscient mortal city, whose record is a brilliant blaze of glory

Jehovah, were the more splendid as they were the and a black abyss of woe! When I last wrote you,

more unknown. It was here that the early promulgafrom this ancient capital, I felt myself so much oppress

tors of our faith, with limbs too often torn upon the ed by an involuntary melancholy, that I was forced

rack, congregated in secret; it was hither that holy to stay my pen. The recollection of the grey and ven

virgins, the best comforters of suffering humanity, and erable ruins which surrounded me on every hand,

the dauntless preachers of the gospel, both aspirants coupled with the thought of the universal overthrow

to the glory of martyrdom,-ever hastened to receive that awaits all terrestrial things, coloured my fancy

the last consolations of religion, from the lips of those with the gloomiest tints, and disposed my mind to the

who too frequently required, ere long, to beg a similar

gift; and it was here, where christian believers, happily most melancholy musings. " If one is sad, however, it is at least consolatory to

drawing near the confines of a short and sorrowful existthink, that those who are dear to us have feelings that

ence, hewed out for themselves sepulchral niches where will sympathize with our melancholy; and perhaps I

they might safely rest from all their worldly woe. never experienced greater comfort from such a con

The rude stone which covers such modest resting-places, sideration, than when I just now sat down to address

records neither the name nor the virtues of the departyou from a city in which there is neither a stone nor a

ed. The pure and single-hearted beings, whose ashes ruin,-splendid though these still may be,—which does

lie within those dark and dank receptacles, looked not not require an eye which can penetrate the obscure

to fame and posterity for reward. They wisely looked mist of the centuries which have spoiled them; or de

to God, as the only just and faithful recompenser of mands a fancy like our own, that is yet unshackled by

the virtuous. Those vaults which have been opened the doubts of age, and unchilled by the sordid calculations of egotism, fully and effectually to appreciate.

· Oisifs de nos cités, dont la mollesse extrème The mind of the vulgar man eschews every approxima

Ne veut que des plaisirs ou l'on se fuit soi-même

Qui craignez de sentir d'eveiller vos languers, tion to the idea of a cemetery. He finds nothing there Ces sites solitaires sont muets pour vos cæurs ! but the tokens of death, and death to him is the worst

Mais toi qui des beaux arts sent la flamme divine of evils. And what is Rome but a vast cemetery? what

Ton âme entend la voix des cercueils des ruines. else is there within her precincts which can be denomin


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and diligently explored through the pious feelings of chral urns of some of the most celebrated artists; and the faithful, offer at the present moment an almost the eye will not fail to settle upon that which is honinterminable series of open cavities, arranged along oured by the name of Sanzio, and on wbich are in. the rough and lugubrious walls of this extensive cavern. scribed these words :There are chinks too in several parts of the roof,

Ille hic est Raphaol timuit qui sospite, vinci through which the wind whistles as it



Rerum magna parens; et moriente mori. would sometimes fancy you heard in the distant laby- “The renerable aspect of the Egyptian columns,' rinth, the monotonous and pious chaunt of the primi- says the author of the Notte Romani, the illustrious tive christians, which Echo seemed determined to repeat name of Agrippa, carved upon the front of the vestiand to prolong.

bule, the dusky hue of the walls, which bear witness “ The aspect of ruins and of solitude teaches, even to the vapour of ancient incense and to the smoke of the youthful bosom,

the burnt-offering, filled my mind with serious thoughts. “ To taste the joys of meditation."

It seemed to me as if I yet heard echoing amid the For myself, I have always experienced a more than

mighty columns the bellowing of the bulls which were common satisfaction in rambling through that portion brought to the altar ; while the grandeur of all that of the city which is now completely reft of population. encompassed me so vividly awakened my recollection There, frequently, amid gardens and vineyards, rise

of Rome's early rites, that methought I again saw them deserted palaces and magnificent churches, sympathe performing before me.' tically mingling their uncouth and ruinous architec- “ Follow me, in fine, Erminia ! to the banks of the ture with the unsborn beauty of a luxuriant vegetation.

river which, turbid and winding, hides itself 'mid a While strolling on the Appian way, I was particu

mass of miserable habitations, and takes refuge, unoblarly struck with a solitary tower of marble, whose served, in an angle of the city, as if ashamed to call summit is embrasured, from the circumstance of its

itself the Tiber. There stands an ample building, having been used as a fortress during the dark from whose quadrangular base arises a large circular ages. The Latin inscription pointed it out to be tower. Its summit is embrasured; and from the openthe magnificent tomb which the Triumvir Crassus ings, which look in every direction, may be seen the erected for his wife Cecilia Metella. I entered the destructive mouths of threatening cannon.

Within tower, and sat myself down upon a stone. Para

these gloomy walls is the state-prison. This is, in fact, sitical plants, with their tortuous tendrils, clothed

no other than the Castle of St. Angelo; and, strange the interior of the monument. I turned my eye to its

though it be, know, that this immense and splendid pile summit—through the open top the sky appeared. The

was erected by Adrian for his own ashes. Proud azure canopy of heaven was there beheld in beautiful mortal! He wished to show bis vanity, even beyond contrast with the fleecy clouds; which, driven by the the grave. The magnificent columns>the innumersea-breeze, Aitted on toward the horizon, and disap- able statues—the precious bronzes—which made this peared in rapid succession-presenting to my mind an

mausoleum one of the wonders of the world, served as affecting image of the destinies of man. This idea,

weapons of defence in the hands of the various parties coupled with the aspect of the mausoleum, the silence who occupied the eternal city during the middle ages. of which was only broken by the whisper of the wind

From its walls the soldiers of Belisarius, of Narsete, or the hum of some passing insect—the recollection of

of Crescenzio, hurled down upon the besiegers the Metella, who was as beautiful as she was wretched chefs d'auvres of Grecian sculpture. The statues of all contributed, while sitting in this monument, to im

gods and heroes became, in the hands of these barbapress my mind with a voluntary sadness.

rians, the instruments of extermination; while the se“ The mortal remains of the Bard of Goffredo rest in

pulcbre itself, which was only intended for the ashes the paltry church of St. Onofrius, situated upon the of one, became, from being the eternal bone of contensummit of a little eminence. When my eye caught tion, ever and anon, bathed with the blood of hosts of the rude stone on which is written,

human victims. Unfortunate Italy ! Even the monu

ments of thy ancient greatness have assisted in conTorquati Tassi ossa hic jacent, Hoc, ne nescius esset hospes,

summating thy rain!" Fratres hujus Ecclesiæ posuerunt. I instantly exclaimed, Unhappy mortal! After hav

DRAMATIC SKETCHES OF HISTORICAL ing outlived the frenzy of an unfortunate and incur

CHARACTERS. able passion, and after having suffered during thy sor

No. 1.- CARDINAL RICHELIEU. rowful life the galling chains of an opprobrious prison, why has not the remembrance of this spot, where thou at last found a peaceful asylum, been allowed to per- [Scene.-A Cabinet in the Cardinal's Palace. Barillon, Presiish? or why should a few obscure monks have been dent of the Parliament of Paris, and Counsellors Scarron and permitted to carve thy immortal name upon the mo- Salo, two of the leading Members of Parliament, seated round dest stone which covers thy unwept ashes ? Alas! Is

To them enters Cinq Mars, Master of the Horse. ] it thus that Italy honours her illustrious sons ? Have

Cinq Mars.-Ha! Sir President, Scarron, Salo. Good time not poverty and humiliation tormented them sufficiently during life, that they should be pursued, even

of the day, gentlemen. What make you with the Lord Car

dinal ? beyond the grave, by the coward rancour of the envious, and by that fatal mania which bas made foes of

Barillon.-- We have been sent for hither, but we are at a loss brothers, and which has torn open the bosom of our

to know upon what subject bis Eminence means to consult us. common mother Earth? Dante has no tomb in Flo

Cinq.-Indeed! Can you form no conjecture ?

Barillon.- None that will stand the touch of reason ; your An expiatory monument does not yet occupy the spot where the infamous funeral pile of Bonfadio

Lordship, however, I can well perceive, doth know. and Doleto was lighted. Their shades, with those of

Cinq.Right. The King, I thank him, trusts myself, and Galileo, and a hundred other illustrious unfortunates,

others of our party, whene'er the Cardinal most graciously perwill congregate, indignant, around the squalid tomb of

mits him to walk forth without bis leading strings. YesterTorquato, and will howl forth their anathemas against night bis Majesty to us disburthened his soul. It seems the Cartheir ungrateful country!

dinal, grown more proud and malapert than ever, by his alliance “But let us discard those ideas—more mournful than with the Condé, means to wrench entirely from the Parliament even the tombs themselves—and at present follow me the little power now left it-provided that he cannot flatter you, to the Pantheon, the largest and the most entire of and others, out of it. Roman temples. There, around the wide circular in- Scar.--He darc not! Paris--no-por France wonld ever terior, are to be seen the marble busts and the sepul- suffer it.

a table.


Bar.--You little know his Eminence. “ Dare not,” are words unknown in his vocabulary.

Salo.— Will you submit to have the only right now left us, torn rudely from our grasp ? I, at least, for one, shall never do so. No! While there flows a drop of blood within these veias to keep my heart in motion, I will oppose him.

Cinq.- Well said, good Salo. Be tbou and all thy friends but firm, and thou shalt see this base-born villain, who, by nameless tricks, his wheedling and his cozening, bas raised himself to be the King of our leal King, the tyrant over us, the free-born sous of France, quick hurled down from his proud pinnacle.

Bar.- But my Lord

Cinq.--But me, no buts, Sir President. If you are now content to hug your chains and lick the band that beats you, so not

am I.

Bar.—You do me grievous wrong, my Lord. No man would more rejoice than I myself, to see the Cardinal's downfal; but, bow is it to be accomplished ! We want every thing-leaders, soldiers, money and alliances.

Cinq.-- Fair Sir, I cry your pardon, but, if those be thy only wants and fears, know this

[Enter the Cardinal from behind an arras.] The Duke of Bouillon, the English Duke of Beaufort, and, bark in your ear, the Duke of Orleans and myself, have banded us together. Twenty thousand of the choicest troops in the Cardinal's pay have been won over to our cause. Spain promises forty thousand more. With this, and abundance of good English angels, sure we may destroy the Cardinal, though even backed by Sathapas and his hosts.

Salo.— But the King ?

Cing.–Tush! I know the sentiments of his Majesty. Why, Sirs, he'd count that man his choicest friend who'd tell him * Richelieu is dead. 'Twas this hand dealt the blow.”

Rich.The villain speaks most true. His Majesty cares e'en too little for his Minister. (Aside, as he advances.) My Lord and Gentlemen, I crave your pardon. It fears me that I must have detained you long.

Cinq.—So long, your Eminence, that I was just about returning to my service on the King.

Rich. - Thou wer't ever an attentive servant to his Majesty,

question, nay, disobey and treat his orders with contempt, there is an end to his authority. We are now verging to this crisis.That citizen will well deserve the favour of his King, who brings the disobedient family back to duty.

Scar.— By your Eminence's leave, you have taken pains to put the question between the King and his leal Parliament (for 'tis to that, I see, your Eminence refers) in what I'm bound to call a light most false. Rich.-How, Sir? (angrily.)

Cinq.- Nay, good Cardinal-Duke; hear Scarron, I beseech you.

Scar.-Your Eminence will note that I do not attempt to tax your argument with errors, so long as the father disburses the monies needful for his house's maintenance; but when the children and servants contribute thereto, I say they have a right to know how 'tis expended, and if not properly, to check the same in future.

Cinq.By St. Louis, and that's well argued !

Rich.-- Am I to understand, then, that you prefer to aid this foul rebellious Parliament, instead of joining with your Monarch instantly to crush it. The power it claims, it only held by sufferance. His Majesty can, and shall withdraw it instantly.

Bar.- The power is our's, and we shall surely now not part with it without a struggle.

Rich.- What! treason to my face! Insolent traitors, know you in whose presence you now stand ?

Cinq.-- Yes; in that of a man whom I shall, ere long, see wearing a far less lofty title than that of Cardinal-Duke de Riche. lieu, First Minister of France.

Rich.To you, Sir, I have nothing more to say. Haste to your armies, if you can find them anywhere ; if not, to the society of plotters and hired assassins, whom you so kindly entertain. To you, Sirs, as more amenable to reason, I again apply. Are we friends or foes?

Salo. - It fears me foes, unless a compromise, quite honourable to both.

Scar.—Compromise ! Not I, for one. I shall listen to no such terms_none, until the privileges of the Parliament be confirmed -until the King be free—and till Cardinal Richelieu cease to tyrannize o'er France.

Rich.- Fools !—fools ! Will you so inadly rush upon destruction? What is your forces ?-a handful ! Who your leaders ? Rash, empty-pated braggarts ! Where your English angels ? Safe in my money-chest. What hinders me from crushing you like a nest of hornets ?-your insignificance! Why do I not dispatch you to the dungeons of the Bastille now—even now ? Because I wish it said that Richelieu “can afford to let such paltry traitors live." Begone from my presence ere I spurn you !

Cinq.—Wben next we meet, proud Cardinal, your speech shall be less lofty.

Bar.- Cardinal Richelieu, be assured of this, that the Paris citizens

Rich.-Pshaw! what care I for all thy greasy burghers. Hence, begone, ere I do call a guard.

(Exeunt.) Ha! ha! ha!-Now will these madmen go and do some deed to damn their cause, and then I have them straight in careful keeping.


my good Lord.


Cinq.-Your Eminence bad other matters for mine ear than courtly flatteries, or I mistake.

Rich. — These civilities may have weight with others, though not with thee who art of a more

Cinq.- Psbaw! Bar.–Fye, my Lord Master. You do not use the CardinalDuke with proper reverence.

Rich.-Nay, thick pot of it. I know the Master's temper is somewhat over hasty and peremptory.

But let tbat pass.

We will at once to business. I've sent for you calmly to consult with me on things of moment to the King and to the State. Not one of you, my worthy and much esteemed friends, will now dispute with me on this, that, in affairs of governing and commanding, the fewer hands that power is trusted with, the better. To you, Lord Master, as a valiant and experienced commander, I appeal. A general issues orders—his second in command disputes, and then he disobeys them—the soldiery, seeing their commanders differ, differ also—some take one side, some another.The consequence of which is plainly this, that when the leader goes upon an enterprise, he labours under disadvantages, which, in all probability, his opponent does not—and he fails.

Cing. - Your Eminence is in the right. I have met with such grumbling, mutinous curs, more frequently than I desired.

Rich.-In like manner, in the management of a family, and to you, Sirs, Scarron and Salo, I now lay myself open to contradiction it in the wrong.

Think ye, if the sons and daughters, yea, the very servants, were laying claim to an equal right with the father to order and arrange, would that house, as the blessed Scripture bath it, abide ? Your answer ?

Salo.-I agree, though if your Eminence doth mean

Rich.–Nay, hear me out. On precisely similar grounds, when the people, who are his Majesty's family, and sure he rules them more by love paternal, than by power paternal, cavil at and


'Twas in a bonny birken bow'r

I met my Jane at eve;
The tale of love, there sweetly told,

Our young hearts soon deceive.
With many a sacred vow and sigh,

I press'd her to my breast; We look’d, we lov'd--we knew not wby,

And aye again caress’d.
The silv'ry moon shone through the grove,

As if our love to view ;
And then-as if to let us love-

She modestly withdrew.
And thus we met, and thus we lov'd,

For many a happy hour;
And, oh! I never can forget
The bonny birken bow'r.


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