second nap: I perceive you are surprised at his | Scene changes and discovers the doors of four appearance you must know, I was his dresser. Mon. You! Y. Whim. In imitation of dame Fortune, I have deprived one man of what he really wanted, to lavish it on another, who had no use for it. Mon. Well, Sir; as the circumstances under which we met prove that each of us have some reasons for wishing to be concealed at present.— Y. Whim. I'll e'en take my leave; but before I go, upon my soul, I long to have one knock at that rascal, who lies sleeping there-You must know, he has had the impudence to be my rival, with a devilish pretty little black-eyed wench who twirls a mop in this house. Whim. [Aside.] Zounds! I believe the dog has discovered me. Y. Whim. Do let me fetch a horse-whip-I ask but for three cuts at him-only three cutsZounds! here comes Mrs. Pattypan-Then I'm off-and Tim may sleep on in whole bones. Enter MRS. PATTYPAN. [Exit. rooms. Enter YOUNG WHIMSEY and SIMON. Y. Whim. Let me see-you say the gentleman who took shelter with me behind the windowcurtain, is Mr. Monford, my sister Charlotte's lover. Simon. Yes, Sir, and he is going to run away with her this evening. I know where they of dered the chaise. Y. Whim. Then run back instantly to the inn, and countermand Mr. Monford's chaise in his name-I'll take the consequences-when the other comes, tell the post-boy to let me knowI'll step into the room which I find was intended for my father-the old gentleman will hardly go into it, as he does not mean to sleep there-be quick-don't lose a moment. [Exit SIMON. Exit Y. WHIM. into the first room. Mon. [To MRS. P.] Ah! Mrs. Pattypan-Ime to meet him in his room directly—the mo suppose you are in search of your apprenticethere he sits, in a kind of double disguise, both of dress and liquor. Mrs. Pat. Yes, yes, Sir, I have heard of it all; and shall give him a lecture on the subject. [Exit MoN. Whim. [Aside.] The devil? it will be a fine joke against me, to be discovered in this situation -I'll e'en feign to be asleep. Enter MONFORD and CHARLOTTE, meeting. Char. Oh! Monford-my father has ordered ment your chaise is ready, come to me in my chamber-Remember that the farthest door is mine, and don't venture to speak above a whis Mon. My charmer-my Charlotte! Char. Hush! this is not a time for fine speeches-I'm sure I hear my father's footsteps -I must be gone. [Exeunt different ways. per. Points to the door. Enter OLD WHIMSEY. tice Mrs. Pat. Oh, Tim Tartlett! I did mean to scold you-but your presence softens all my resentment.-Come, you must not be too bashful- Whim. Ha, ha, ha! Well done, old Whimsey you have to be sure taken a liberty, by your con--who will pretend to deny that I am an excelduct this evening-but when a woman loves a lent politician!-to set off at a moment's man-she can pardon little liberties in him. -without giving Monford the most distant ink[Taking his hand. ling of my intentions!-Egad, I shall jockey them all; and leave Jack to pay for the lodgings as well as he can-and now I'll e'en retire to my own room, and wait for Charlotte. Enter CHARLOTTE and MONFORD, with his arm round her waist, as if talking to her-MRS. PATTYPAN starts, and OLD WHIMSEY discovers himself. Mrs. Pat. Upon my word, Ma'am, this intru sion. Whim. Is a very agreeable intrusion, Mrs. Pattypan, I really began to be afraid of you. Mrs. Pat. Afraid of me--but I wont be out of temper. Char. I declare I thought it was Mr. Ti-I mothy. Mrs. Pat. Yes, Ma'am, I thought it was Mr. Timothy too. The old gentleman could never suppose I meant to make love to him-ha, ha, ha! Whim. Faith, I don't know, Mrs. Pattypanthe love of some ladies is a kind of universal philanthropy-it extends to all mankind-[Exit MRS. P. And pray, Sir, did you think it was Mr. Timothy too?-In short, Monford, we have all passed a mighty agreeable evening, and it is now time to go to bed. One word at parting-if you marry Mrs. Pattypan-you had better continue to keep a sharp look out after Mr. Timothy. So good night t'ye. [Exeunt WHIM. and CHAR., and MON. on the opposite side. [Goes into the room where his son is concealed -shuts the door. Enter MRS. PATTYPAN. Mrs. Pat. My young Madam's door open! That's the signal I suppose for Mr. Timothy to wait on her but she is mistaken-at these years think I know the value of a lover too well to lose him so easily-but I hear somebody coming, and must not be seen here I'll e'en step into my new lodger's room for a minute, till they are gone. [Exit into the second room. Enter MONFORD. Mon. That must be Charlotte by her tiptoe tread, and the rustling of her gown-but then why retire into my room instead of her own—I'll follow her, however-the devil take the people, will they never be in bed in this house! [Exit into the room where MRS. P. is gone. Enter TIM TARTLETT. Tim. What shall I do!-I fear I am not quite sober yet; the plaguy old woman haunts me like a ghost-By jingo, I believe here she comesWhere shall I hide myself?-Here is a door open, i'faith; any port in a storm they say. [Exit into the third room, and shuts the door. Enter CHARLOTTE. Char. I think the whole house is now at rest, except our faithful Nancy. My father is undoubtedly in his own chamber. My door is shut; so Monford is certainly gone into my room. Lud, I am so frightened-I wish I were safe out of the house. [Exit into the room where TIM TARTLETT is gone. Enter SIMON and the POSTBOY. Simon. I'll bring you to my master, my lad, he'll give you his orders here. Postboy. I suppose his honour pays handsomely-travels with a silver spur, eh!-I've all my paces-from eighteen pence to five shillings a stage. But where is the gentleman ? Simon. I'faith, that's more than I can tell-perhaps he is in his bed-chamber; but which it is of those rooms I'm sure I don't know. Stay here a moment, while I step down stairs and inquire. [Exit. Postboy. And so I'm to kick my heels here while he is looking for his master, and my horses standing in the street all the while. I'll e'en try all the doors-I shall find the right one at last. [Knocking at each of the doors in turn.] Nobody answers-rot me, if I don't believe the people are all asleep-Ha-gentlefolks! the chaise is ready. [Cracking his whip; all the doors fly open at once, and the sereral persons who had con cealed themselves in the rooms come out. Whim. [Taking YOUNG WHIMSEY's hand.] -Come along, Charlotte, come along. Hey-day! how did you come here, you dog!-[Looking round him.]-and you ?-and you? Char. Heavens! we are discovered! [Turning round, and seeing TIM.] Bless me! Mr. Timothy? Mrs. Pat. Yes, Ma'am-you are discovered, indeed. Mon. Mr. Whimsey !-I'm really all confusion. Whim. Yes, faith-so the rest of the company seem to be. Here we are-fat and lean-old and young-paired as badly as the city train-bands at a Lord Mayor's show? but how the devil we came here in couples, seems as yet to remain a secret. Mrs. Pat. I can explain it. Your shameless daughter seduced the affections of my intended husband; and has attempted to tear him from my arms. Whim. Tear him from your arms! Egad, 1 should think that no easy matter, Mrs. Pattypan, if you were resolved to hold him fast. Mon. I believe, Sir, my confession will explain every thing to you. I own I did intend to elope with Miss Charlotte this evening. Whim. Very obliging of you, indeed- -to make a confession, when your scheme is discovered--I have seen a highwayman do as much just before his execution. Y. Whim. Then, Sir, as execution follows confession-let them be tied up directly—with Benefit of Clergy. Tim. Suppose you and I follow the example, mistress! I believe my hour is come; and so the sooner I am out of my pain the better. Mrs. Pat. Then, Tim is constant after all. Tim. Ah! mistress, that I am. [Sighing. Char. My dear father will not let me petition in vain. Y. Whim. Nay-Nancy will join her intreaties; and then, Sir, you will a second time be between two fires. Whim, Ah! rot your two fires !—the dog has me fast-I dare not refuse my consent; and so, Monford, take my daughter; but, curse me, if I intended you should have had her. As for you, Mrs. Pattypan, may you find marriage like one of your own tarts, with no more acid in it, than is just enough to render the sweets more poignant.To crown your satisfaction, may your lodgings never remain empty! and may every friend, who takes a peep at the First Floor honour it with their approbation [Eseunt THE SIEGE OF DAMASCUS: A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS. BY JOHN HUGHES, Esq. REMARKS. THIS is a very noble production from the pen of Hughes. The characters are finely sustained and well contrast ed-Barbarian fierceness and christian firmness are in fine opposition throughout. The business is now highly interesting, and was originally more so, before the ignorance of the managers of the Play-house altered the original design-They had, it seems, certain fairy notions of chivalry and heroism in their heads, and could not tolerate a hero after he had changed his religion. The excellent author altered his play, for the benefit of his relations; for he himself died on the night of its first representaion, Feb. 17, 1719-20. We now see this piece usually once in a season, chiefly in benefit time; it merits, however, to be constantly seen and read, for, as a composition, modern times have shown nothing near it. DRAMATIS PERSON Æ. CHRISTIANS. EUMENES, Governor of Damascus,. HERBIS, his Friend, one of the Chiefs of the City,.. PHOCYAS, a noble and valiant Syrian, privately in love with Eudocia,. SERGIUS, an Express from the Emperor Heraclius,.. COVENT GARDEN. Mr. Hull Mr. Pope. EUDOCIA, Daughter to Eumenes,.. Officers, Soldiers, Citizens, and Attendants. SARACENS. Mrs. Pope. CALED, General of the Saracen Army,.. DARAN, a wild Arabian, professing Mahometanism for the sake of the spoil,.. RAPHAN, &C. Captains.... Officers, Soldiers, and Attendants. Mr. Henderson Mr. Ledger. SCENE.-The Cuty of Damascus, in Syria, and the Saracen Camp before it. And, in the last Act a Valley adjacent. PROLOGUE. OFT has the music here tried her magic arts, And armies march obedient to her call, And man's whole race, restored to joy and pain, Act all their little greatness o'er again. No common woes to-night we set to view; Claims drawn from Heaven by a barbarian lord, And swiftly o'er the neighbouring country ran: Nor stopp'd their progress, till resistless grown, Th' enthusiasts made all Asia's world their own. Britons, be warn'd; let e'en your pleasures here Convey some moral to th' attentive ear. ACT I. SCENE I-The City. Enter EUMENES, followed by a crowd of people. Eum. I'll hear no more. Begone! Her. So the tide turns; Phocyas has driven it back. The gate once more is ours. Enter EUMENES, PHOCYAS, ARTAMON, &c. Eum. Brave Phocyas, thanks! mine and the people's thanks. [People shout and cry, A PHOCYAS! &c. Yet, that we may not lose this breathing space, Hang out the flag of truce. You, Artamon, Haste with a trumpet to the Arabian chiefs, And let them know, that hostages exchanged, I'd meet them now upon the eastern plain. [Exit ARTAMON. Or stop your clamorous mouths, that still are For injured rights, or birth, or jealous greatness, That sets the princes of the world in arms. eyes, Our fruitful vales, our fig trees, olives, vines, For barren sands, and native poverty, Eum. What can we do? Our people in despair, our soldiers harass'd The valiant Phocyas leads them on- -whose Th' Arabians numerous, cruel, flush'd with con SCENE II-A plain bofore the City. A prospect of Tents at a distance. Enter CALED, ABUDAH, and DARAN. That only come to traffic with those Syrians, plunder. Caled. Why, so am Ilives Caled. Is that a question now? you had our summons, When first we march'd against you to surrender. You see we are return'd; our hearts, our cause, Her. But why those swords were drawn, Eum. Speak your wrongs, If wrongs you have received, and by what means Abu. Then, christians, hear! And Heaven inspire you to embrace its truth! command Immutable. By us great Mahomet, Arta. [Aside.] So-then, it seems I find I am already half a convert. Eum. Now, in the name of Heaven, what faith is this, That storks gigantic forth, thus arm'd with ter- As if it meant to ruin, not to save? -and but to save the Of mussulmans, not christians, I would not treat: This earth, it seems, has gifts that please him more. Caled. Check not his zeal, Abudah. Yet, I could wish that zeal had better motives. For conquest, not destruction. That obtain'd, come. Enter EUMENES, HERBIS, and ARTAMON. At your request, has still'd his angry voice, Eum. We come to know, After so many troops you've lost in vain, not Why on your heads, you call our pointed arrows, Her. Bold, frontless men! that impudently dare To blend religion with the worst of crimes! Eum. Where are your priests? What doctors Have you e'er sent t' instruct us in its precepts ? And well might claim our thanks. With scorn had been received: your numerous Your clashing sects, your mutual rage and strife, And reigns in mimic state, 'midst idol shows, That we're unworthy of our holy faith. own. But what are you that thus arraign our vices, Caled. Christians no |