Har.. I fee, Sir, you are not inclined to ferve me-Good Heaven! what am I referv'd to? Why? why did I leave my father's house to expose myself to greater diftrelles? (Ready to weep.)

Oakly. I wou'd do any thing for your fake; in deed I wou'd. So pray be comforted, and I'll think of fome proper place to bestow you in.

Mrs. O. So! fo!

Har. What place can be fo proper as your own

houfe?

Oakly. My dear Madam, I- I —

Mrs. O. My dear Madam! mighty well!

Oakly. Hufh!hark!

what noife? No

nothing. But I'll be plain with you, Madam, we

may be interrupted The family confideration I

hinted at, is nothing else than my wife.

unhappy in her temper, Madam!

She is a little And if you was

to be admitted into the house, I don't know what

might be the confequence.

Mrs. O. Very fine!

Har. My behaviour, Sir

Oakly. My dear life, it would be impoffible for you to behave in fuch a manner as not to give her fufpicion.

Har. But if your nephew, Sir, took every thing upon himself

Oakly. Still that would not do, Madam! Why this very morning, when the letter came from your father, though I politively denied any knowledge of it, and Charles owned it, yet it was almost impossible to pacify her.

Mrs. O. The letter! how have I been bubbled!

Har. What fhall I do? what will become of me?

Oakly. Why, look' ye, my dear Madam, fince my wife is fo ftrong an objection, it is abfolutely inpoffible for me, to take you into the house. Nay if I had not known, she was gone out, just before you came, I fhould be uneafy at your being here even So we must manage as well as we can. I'll take a private lodging for you a little way off, unknown to Charles and my wife, or any body; and if Mrs. Oakly fhould discover it at last, why the whole matter will light upon Charles, you know.

now.

Mrs. O. Upon Charles!

Har. Now unhappy is my fituation! (weeping) I am ruin'd for ever.

Oakly. Ruin'd! Not at all. Such a thing as this has happened to many a young Lady before you, and all has been well again Keep up your fpirits! I'll contrive, if I poffibly can, to vifit you every day,

Mrs O. (advancing) Will you fo? O Mr. Oakly! Have I discover'd you at last. I'll visit you indeed. And you, my dear Madam, I'll

Har. Madam, I don't understand

-

Mrs. O. I understand the whole affair, and have understood it for some time paft You fhall have a private lodging, Mifs! It is the fitteft place for you, "I believe How dare you look ine in the face? Oakly. For heav'ns fake, my love, don't be fo violent. You are quite wrong in this affair. don't know, who you are talking to. That Lady is a perfon of fafhion.

You

Mrs. O. Fine fashion, indeed! To feduce other women's husbands!

Har. Dear Madam, how can you imagine

Oakly. I tell you, my dear, this is the young Lady that Charles

Mrs. .

Mrs. O. Mighty well! But that won't do, Sir! Did not I hear you lay the whole intrigue together? Did not I hear your fine plot of throwing all the blame upon Charles?

Oakly. Nay, be cool a moment

Thou must

know, my dear, that the letter which came this mor

ning, related to this Lady

Mrs. O. I know it.

Oakly. And fince that, it seems, Charles has been fo fortunate as to

Mrs. O. O you deceitful Man! That trick is too stale to pass again with ine It is plain now what you meant by your propofing to take her into the house this morning But the Gentlewoman could introduce herself, I see.

Oakly. Fie, fie, my dear, fhe came on purpose to enquire for you.

Mrs. O. For me! Better and better!

Did

your

not she watch her opportunity, and come to you just as I went out? But I am obliged to you for vifit, Madam. It is fufficiently paid. Pray, don't let me detain you.

Oakly. For fhame! for fhame, Mrs. Oakly! How can you be so abfurd? Is this proper behaviour to a Lady of her character?

Go, my

Mrs. O. I have heard her character. fine run-away Madain! Now you've eloped from your father, and run away from your aunt! Go!

fhan't stay here, I promise you.

You

Oakly. Prithee, be quiet. You don't know what

you are doing. She shall stay.

Mrs. O. She fhan't stay a minute.

Oakly. She fhall stay a minute, an hour, a day,

a week, a month, a year!

'Sdeath, Madamı, fhe

Har For Heaven's fake, Sir, let me go. frighted to death.

I am

Oakly. Don't be afraid, Madam - She fhall stay, I infift upon it.

Ruffet. (within.) I tell you, Sir, I will go up. I am sure that the Lady is here, and nothing shall hinder me.

Har. O my father! my father! (faints away.)

Oakly. See, fhe faints. (Catching her.) Ring the bell! Who's there?

Mrs. O. What! take her into your arms too! Oh! I have no patience.

XVII.

Cumberland.

Richard Cumberland, ist der Sohn des durch ein weitläuftiges Wert über das Naturrecht bekannten Bischofs zu Kilmore in Jrland, und von mütterlicher Seite ein Enkel des berühmten Richard Bentley. Er ist einer der fruchtbars ften neuern englischen Theaterdichter, sowohl in der tragis schen als komischen Gattung; der Werth seiner Schauspiele ist aber sehr ungleich, und siè verrathen überall die zu große Eile ihrer Verfertigung, obgleich die meisten bei der ersten Vorstellung viel Beifall fanden, und sich darin noch immer behaupten. Ihr Verfasser hat seit einigen Jahren auch Schriften andrer Art, z. B. Anekdoten der spanischen Mahs ler, und das Wochenblatt, The Obferver, geliefert. Seine Lustspiele sind: The Summer's Tale

سلة

The Bro

thers

ral Son The Country Attorney

-

thers The Weft-Indian- The Fafhionable Lover The Note of Hand The Choleric Man - The Natu The Impostors. Ihr grosites Verdienst ist genaue Kenntniß und Nachs bildung des Welttons und der Umgangssprache; den Charaks teren aber fehlt mehrentheils die gehörige Vollendung; auch find sie durch die Vielfachheit der Handlung zu sehr gemischt, und oft nur flüchtig angedeutet. Die Sprache der Person ist selten natürlich und eigenthümlich genug; nicht ohne Wiß, aber zu leer von sichtbaren Eingebungen des Gefühls und des Herzens. Cumberland's bestes Stück, der Westindier, ist auch in Deutschland, durch Bode's Ueberseßung und ofte malige Vorstellung, bekannt genug. Aus diesem und dem Liebhaber nach der Mode hat er die Hauptpersonen in feinem Natural Son wieder auftreten laffen, und ein paar neue hinzugefügt, die Handlung aber aus dem Tom Jones entlehnt. Der natürliche Sohn ist ein Fündling, den ein würdiger Landedelmann erziehen lässt, und von dem sichs am Ende entdeckt, daß er sein Neffe ist. Drollig genug ist der Charakter des Dumps, den man. aus tennen lernt;

folgender. Scene

O'Flaherty. (feeing Dumps as he enters.) Oh the Beelzebub! what's here? Which of the feven deadly fins begot you? what gibbet have you defrauded of its furniture?

Dumps. I am ferving-man to Squire Ruefull? I haften'd in advance, to fignify the coming on of my Master Salve, Domine! Et tu quoque! Рах in domo!

OFl. What the plague! which of your evil tongues is that?

Dumps. 'Tis Latin; I learnt it when I fhew'd the tombs in Westminster Abbey.