Pier. Not leave me.

Jaf. No, thou shalt not force me from thee.
Use me reproachfully, and like a slave;
Tread on me, buffet me, heap wrongs on wrongs
On my poor head; I'll bear it all with patience
Shall weary out thy most unfriendly cruelty:
Lie at thy feet, and kiss 'em though they spurn me,
Till wounded by my sufferings, thou relent,

And raise me to thy arms, with dear forgiveness.
Pier. Art thou not-

Jaf. What?

Pier. A traitor ?
Jaf. Yes.

Pier. A villain?

Jaf. Granted.

Pier. A coward, a most scandalous coward; Spiritless, void of honour; one who has sold Thy everlasting fame for shameless life?

Jaf. All, all and more, much more: my

numberless.

faults are

Pier. And would'st thou have me live on terms like

thine?

Base, as thou art false

Jaf. No: 'tis to me that's granted :

The safety of thy life was all I aim'd at,
In recompense for faith and trust so broken.

Pier. I scorn it more, because preserv'd by thee;
And, as when first my foolish heart took pity
On thy misfortunes, sought thee in thy miseries,
Relieved thy wants, and raised thee from the state
Of wretchedness, in which thy fate had plung'd thee,
To rank thee in my list of noble friends,

All I receiv'd, in surety for thy truth,

Were unregarded oaths, and this, this dagger,

Giv'n with a worthless pledge, thou since hast stol'n: So I restore it back to thee again;

Swearing by all those powers which thou hast violated, Never, from this curs'd hour, to hold communion, Friendship, or interest, with thee, though our years

Were to exceed those limited the world.
Take it; farewell-for now I owe thee nothing.
Jaf. Say, thou wilt live then.

Pier. For my life, dispose it

Just as thou wilt, because 'tis what I'm tir'd with.
Jaf. Oh, Pierre.

Pier. No more.

Jaf. My eyes wont lose sight of thee,

But languish after thee, and ache with gazing.
Pier. Leave me. Nay then, thus, thus I throw thee

from me;

And curses, great as is thy falsehood, catch thee.

Jaf. Amen.

He's gone, my father, friend, preserver! And here's the portion he has left me: (Holds the dagger up.)

[Exit guarded.

This dagger. Well remember'd! with this dagger,
I gave a solemn vow, of dire importance;
Parted with this and Belvidera together.

Have a care, mem'ry, drive that thought no farther:
No, I'll esteem it as a friend's last legacy;

Treasure it up within this wretched bosom,
Where it may grow acquainted with my heart,
That when they meet they start not from each other.
So, now for thinking. A blow!—call'd a traitor, villain,
Coward, dishonourable coward! faugh!
Oh! for a long, sound sleep, and so forget it!

THE WIG.

CHARLES DIBDIN THE YOUNGER.

[Charles Dibdin the younger was the second son of the celebrated naval song writer and dramatist; his elder brother was Thomas Dibdin, also celebrated as a dramatist and song-writer; and his mother was a Mrs. Davenet, a chorus singer at Covent Garden, for whom Dibdin deserted his lawful wife. Charles was born about the year 1772; he was some time lessee of Sadler's

Wells Theatre, for which favourite place of amusement he wrote many pieces, besides contributing some farces and operettas to the patent theatres. He is also the author of "Mirth and Metre," London: Ventnor, Hood and Sharp, 1807; and "Comic Tales and Lyrical Fancies," Whittaker, 1825. He died about 1828.]

THERE was a Judge at nisi prius,

Who ne'er from common sense felt bias,
Nisi law cause could show :

For, some say, law (I know not whence)
Can rule or o'errule common sense,
As equity can show.

To Justice's entire content,

This learned Judge each circuit went
To nonsuit captious strife.

Judges (for state) alone should ride,
Yet, since but one are spouse and bride,
He ofttimes took his wife.

It chanced my lady-not that she
Was weakly prone to vanity—
She loved, as ladies do,
Smartness; but yet (a purpose wise),
Lovely to look in hubby's eyes-
As, ladies, practise you.

Hence in the chariot would be placed
Bandboxes fill'd with proofs of taste,

Till, almost smothered, he

Cried, "Madam, such things might be put,
In private, coram nobis, but

Non coram judice."

Said she, "Destruction they would find
If pack'd within the trunk behind-
They're caps." "What then?" quo' he,

"No rule of court can practice show
That judges who on circuit go

Should go thus cap-a-pied."

One time, for leave though she applied,
He vow'd no box with him should ride,
Though many a plea she found.
Resolved no longer to be fool'd,
He every point and plea o'erruled,
And turn'd my lady round.

They rode along, with little chat;
She fretting, he revolving, sat;
When, in brown study, lo!
Against a box, while stretching out
His legs, to ease some twinge of gout,
His lordship kick'd his toe.

"What's this?" he cried, and, looking down,
He saw a bandbox (from the town
They sought 'twas miles a score).
"Hah, hah!" cried he, the glass he dropp'd,
"We'll clear the court," and out he popp'd
The box, and said no more.

While nothing said his lady gay,
(She thought 'twas little use to say),
Which caused him some surprise.
At length the carriage put them down
By sound of trumpet in the town
Where held was the assize.

The Judge, as he to church must go,
Put on his scarlet, comme il faut,
And look'd importance big.
"Humphrey," said he, "'tis getting late,
We mustn't make the parson wait :
Go, Humphrey, fetch my wig."

Then Humphrey, like true serving-man,
To get the jasey quickly ran;

But fortune deals in sport:
Removed each package small or big,
Non est inventus was the wig,

In full contempt of court.

"A horse! a horse!" cried Richard Rex-
"A wig! a wig!" the Judge, "twould vex
A saint this law's delay;"

When Humphrey cried (a comic prig)—
"Without a rule your worship's wig
Has traversed term to-day."

"Not find my wig ?" the Judge, and stared;
Foam'd at the mouth, his eyeballs glared;
When in came sword and mace.
"Will't please your lordship to proceed?
All's ready now, and we will lead,
As is our proper place."

The Judge. "Proceed? I cannot budge;
Without a wig, what is a Judge ?
My wig! my wig!" he cries:
And cried his wife, with glad retort,
"Why, when your ludship clear'd the court,
You clear'd the wig likewise."

The Judge, nonsuited, said-but what
He said, deponent knoweth not,

And what he did's not certain;

But Mace to budge deem'd this his cue,
And Sword to shield himself withdrew,
And Humphrey-drew the curtain.

RIP VAN WINKLE.

WASHINGTON IRVING.

WHOEVER has made a voyage up the Hudson must remember the Kaatskill mountains. They are a dismembered branch of the great Appalachian family, and are seen away to the west of the river, swelling up to a noble height, and lording it over the surrounding country. Every change of season, every change of