Melesinda. Unfeeling wretch! yet possibly her intentions

Melesinda. Oh!

Mr. H. Who knows but among the female natives might be found

Melesinda. Sir! (raising her head.)

Mr. H. One who would be more kind than

Melesinda. Oh!

Maid. For instance, Madam, my name is Finch-Betty Finch. I don't whistle the more for that, nor long after canary-seed while I can get good wholesome mutton--some Oberea-Queen Oberea. no, nor you can't catch me by throwing salt on my tail. If you come to that, hadn't I a young man used to come after me, they said courted me- -his name was Lion, Francis Lion, a tailor; but though he was fond enough of me, for all that he never offered to eat me.

engagement before

Maid. No great harm if you had. You'd only have bought a pig in a poke-and what then? Oh, here he comes creeping

Mr. H. Or what if I were to seek for proofs of reciprocal esteem among unprejudiced African maids, in Monomotopa? Enter Servant.

Servant. Mr. Belvil.

Enter BELVIL.

[Exit.

Mr. H. Monomotopa (musing).
Belvil. Heyday, Jack! what means this

I beg

Melesinda. How fortunate that the discovery has been made before it was too late! Had I listened to his deceits, and, as the perfidious man had almost persuaded me, precipitated myself into an inextricable | mortified face? nothing has happened, I hope, between this lady and you? pardon, Madam, but understanding my friend was with you, I took the liberty of seeking him here. Some little difference possibly which a third person can adjust—not a word. Will you, Madam, as this gentleman's friend, suffer me to be the arbitratorstrange—hark'ee, Jack, nothing has come out, has there? you understand me. Oh, I guess how it is-somebody has got at your secret; you haven't blabbed it yourself, have you? ha ha ha! I could find in my heart—Jack, what would you give me if I should relieve you?

Enter MR. H. abject.

Go to her, Mr. Hogs-Hogs-Hogsbristles, what's your name? Don't be afraid, man— don't give it up-she's not crying-only summat has made her eyes red-she has got a sty in her eye, I believe-(going).

Melesinda. You are not going, Betty? Maid. O, Madam, never mind me--I shall be back in the twinkling of a pig's whisker, as they say.

[Exit.

Mr. H. Melesinda, you behold before you a wretch who would have betrayed your confidence-but it was love that prompted him; who would have trick'd you, by an unworthy concealment, into a participation of that disgrace which a superficial world has agreed to attach to a name-but with it you would have shared a fortune not contemptible, and a heart-but 'tis over now. That name he is content to bear alone-to go where the persecuted syllables shall be no more heard, or excite no meaning-some spot where his native tongue has never penetrated, nor any of his countrymen have landed, to plant their unfeeling satire, their brutal wit, and national ill manners-where no Englishmen (Here MELESINDA, who has been pouting during this speech, fetches a deep sigh).

Some yet undiscovered Otaheite, where witless, unapprehensive savages shall innocently pronounce the ill-fated sounds, and think them not inharmonious.

Mr. H. No power of man can relieve me (sighs); but it must lie at the root, gnawing at the root-here it will lie.

Belvil. No power of man? not a common man, I grant you: for instance, a subjectit's out of the power of any subject.

Mr. H. Gnawing at the root-there it will lie. Belvil. Such a thing has been known as a name to be changed; but not by a subject— (shows a Gazette).

Mr. H. Gnawing at the root-(suddenly snatches the paper out of BELVIL'S hand)—ha' pish! nonsense! give it me— -what! (reads) promotions, bankrupts—a great many bankrupts this week-there it will lie. (Lays it down, takes it up again, and reads.) "The King has been graciously pleased"-gnawing at the root-"graciously pleased to grant unto John Hogsflesh," the devil-" Hogsflesh, Esq., of Sty Hall, in the county of Hants, his royal licence and authority"—O Lord! O Lord!-"that he and his issue"me and my issue-“ may take and use the

Old Lady. We have been so concerned

Mr. H. There's no such person-nor there never was-nor 'tis not fit there should be surname and arms

surname and arms of Bacon "-Bacon, the
surname and arms of Bacon—“in pursuance | (seeing him)—Mr. Hogsflesh
of an injunction contained in the last will
and testament of Nicholas Bacon, Esq., his
late uncle, as well as out of grateful respect
to his memory:"-grateful respect! poor
old soul- here's more-" and that such
arms may be first duly exemplified "—they
shall, I will take care of that—" according to
the laws of arms, and recorded in the
Herald's Office."

Belvil. Come, Madam, give me leave to
put my own interpretation upon your silence,
and to plead for my friend, that now that
only obstacle which seemed to stand in the
way
of your union is removed, you will suffer
me to complete the happiness which my news
seems to have brought him, by introducing
him with a new claim to your favour, by the
name of Mr. Bacon. (Takes their hands and
joins them, which MELESINDA seems to give
consent to with a smile.)

Mr. H. Generous Melesinda! my dear friend-"he and his issue," me and my issue! -O Lord!

Belvil. I wish you joy, Jack, with all my heart.

Mr. H. Bacon, Bacon, Bacon-how odd it sounds! I could never be tired of hearing it. There was Lord Chancellor Bacon. Methinks I have some of the Verulam blood in me already. Methinks I could look through Nature-there was Friar Bacon, a conjuror, -I feel as if I could conjure too

Belvil. It is true what my friend would express; we have been all in a mistake, ladies. Very true, the name of this gentleman was what you call it, but it is so no longer. The succession to the long-contested Bacon estate is at length decided, and with it my friend succeeds to the name of his deceased relative.

Mr. H. "His Majesty has been graciously pleased'

1st Lady. I am sure we all join in hearty congratulation-(sighs).

2nd Lady. And wish you joy with all our hearts-(heigh ho!)

Old Lady. And hope you will enjoy the name and estate many years—(cries).

Belvil. Ha! ha! ha! mortify them a little,
Jack.

1st Lady. Hope you intend to stay
2nd Lady. With us some time
Old Lady. In these parts

Mr. H. Ladies, for your congratulations I
thank you; for the favours you have lavished
on me, and in particular for this lady's
(turning to the old Lady) good opinion, I rest
your debtor. As to any future favours-
(accosts them severally in the order in which he |
was refused by them at the assembly)—Madam,
shall always acknowledge your politeness;
but at present, you see, I am engaged with
a partner. Always be happy to respect you
| as a friend, but you must not look for any-
thing further. Must beg of you to be less
particular in your addresses to me. Ladies
all, with this piece of advice, of Bath and you

Your ever grateful servant takes his leave.
Lay your plans surer when you plot to
grieve;

See, while you kindly mean to mortify
Another, the wild arrow do not fly,

1st Lady. My dear Melesinda, how do you And gall yourself. For once you've been do?

mistaken;

2nd Lady. How do you do? We have Your shafts have miss'd their aim-Hogsbeen so concerned for you flesh has saved his Bacon.

POEMS.

You will smile to see the slender labours of your friend designated by the title of Works; but such was the wish of the gentlemen who have kindly undertaken the trouble of collecting them, and from their judgment could be no appeal.

It would be a kind of disloyalty to offer to any one but yourself a volume containing the early pieces, which were first published among your poems, and were fairly derivatives from you and them. My friend Lloyd and myself came into our first battle (authorship is a sort of warfare) under cover of the greater Ajax. How this association, which shall always be a dear and proud recollection to me, came to be broken,-who snapped the three-fold cord,-whether yourself (but I know that was not the case) grew ashamed of your former companions,— -or whether (which by much the more probable) some ungracious bookseller was author of the separation,-I cannot tell; but wanting the support of your friendly elm, (I speak for myself,) my vine has, since that time, put forth few or no fruits; the sap (if ever it had any) has become, in a manner, dried up and extinct; and you will find your old associate, in his second volume, dwindled into prose and criticism.

Am I right in assuming this as the cause? or is it that, as years come upon us, (except with some more healthy-happy spirits,) Life itself loses much of its Poetry for us? we transcribe but what we read in the great volume of Nature; and, as the characters grow dim, we turn off, and look another way. You yourself write no Christabels, nor Ancient Mariners, now.

Some of the Sonnets, which shall be carelessly turned over by the general reader, may happily awaken in you remembrances, which I should be sorry should be ever totally extinctthe memory

"Of summer days and of delightful years—"

even so far back as to those old suppers at our old

*** Inn,-when life was fresh, and topics

• Prefixed to the Author's works published in 1818.