the stroke aimed at my life. I have not forgotten it. Alas! you knew not what a present you then made me. Bar. Speak, then, I beseech you. Stra. You cannot help me. Bar. Then I can mourn with you. Stra. That I hate. Besides, I cannot weep. Bar. Then give me words instead of tears. Both relieve the heart. Stra. Relieve the heart! My heart is like a closeshut sepulchre. Let what is within it moulder and decay. Why, why open the wretched charnel house to spread a pestilence around? Bar. How horrid are your looks! For shame! A man like you thus to crouch beneath the chance of fortune! Stra. Steinfort! I did think that the opinion of all mankind was alike indifferent to me; but I feel that it is not so. My friend, you shall not quit me without learning how I have been robbed of every joy which life afforded. Listen: much misery may be contained in a few words. Attracted by my native country, I quitted you and the service. What pleasing pictures did I draw of a life employed in improving society, and diffusing happiness! I fixed on Cassel to be my abode. All went on admirably. I found friends. At length, too, I found a wife; a lovely innocent creature, scarce sixteen years of age. Oh! how I loved her! She bore me a son and a daughter. Both were endowed by nature with the beauty of their mother. Ask me not how I loved my wife and children! Yes, then, then I was really happy. [Wiping his Eyes.] Ha! a tear! I could not have believed it. Welcome, old friends! 'Twas long since we have known each other. Well, my story is nearly ended. One of my friends, for whom I had become engaged, treacherously lost me more than half my fortune. This hurt me. I was obliged to retrench my expenses. Contentment needs but little. I for gave him. Another friend- Bar. To lament the loss of a faithless wife is mad ness. Stra. Call it what you please-say what you please -I love her still. Bar. And where is she? Stra. I know not, nor do I wish to know. Stra. I left them at a small town hard by. Bar. But why did you not keep your children with you? they would have amused you in many a dreary hour. Stra. Amused me! Oh, yes! while their likeness to their mother would every hour remind me of my past happiness! No. For three years I have never seen them. I hate that any human creature should be near me, young or old! Had not ridiculous habits made a servant necessary, I should long since have discharged him; though he is not the worst among the bad. Bar. Such too often are the consequences of great alliances. Therefore, Charles, I have resolved to take a wife from a lower rank of life. Stra. You marry!-Ha! ha! ha! Bar. You shall see her. She is in the house where you are expected. Come with me. Stra. What! I mix again with the world! Bar. To do a generous action without requiring thanks is noble and praise-worthy. But so obsti nately to avoid those thanks, as to make the kindness a burthen, is affectation. Stra. Leave me! leave me! Every one tries to form a circle of which he may be the centre. As long as there remains a bird in these woods to greet the rising sun with its melody, I shall court no other society. Bar. Do as you please to-morrow; but give me your company this evening. Stra. [Resolutely.] No! Bar. Not though it were in your power, by this single visit, to secure the happiness of your friend for life? Stra. [Starting ] Ha! then I must-But how? Bar. You shall sue in my behalf to Mrs HallerYou have the talent of persuasion. Stra. I my dear Steinfort! shall speak to Bar. The happiness or misery of your friend depends upon it. I'll contrive that you her alone. Will you? Stra. I will; but upon one condition. Stra. That you will allow me to be gone to-morrow, and not endeavour to detain me. Bar. Go! Whither? Stra. No matter! promise this, or I will not come. Bar. Well, I do promise. Come. Stra. I have directions to give my servant. Bar. In half an hour then we shall expect you. Remember, you have given your word. пр Stra. I have. [Exit BARON.-The STRANGER walks and down thoughtful and melancholy.]—Francis ! Enter FRANCIS. Fra. Sir! call. Stra. Why are you out of the way? Fra. With all my heart. Stra. Perhaps to go into another land. Stra. Perhaps into another quarter of the globe. Fra. With all my heart still;-into which quarter? Stra. Wherever Heaven directs! Away! away from Europe! From this cultivated moral lazaret Do you hear, Francis? To-morrow early. Fra. Very well! ! Stra. Come here, come here first, I have an errand for you. Hire that carriage in the village; drive to the town hard by; you may be back by sun-set. I shall give you a letter to a widow who lives there. With her you will find two children. They are mine. Fra. [Astonished.] Your children, sir! Stra. Take them and bring them hither. Stra. Yes, mine! Is it so very inconceivable ? Fra. That I should have been three years in your service, and never have heard them mentioned, is somewhat strange. Stra. Pshaw! Fra. You have been married then? Stra. Go and prepare for our journey. Fra. That I can do in five minutes. [Going. Stra. I shall come and write the letter directly. Fra. Very well, sir. (Exit. Stra. Yes, I'll take them with me. I'll accustom myself to the sight of them. The innocents! they shall not be poisoned by the refinements of society. Rather let them hunt their daily sustenance upon some desert island with their bow and arrow; or creep, like torpid Hottentots, into a corner, and stare at each other. Better to do nothing than to do evil. Fool that I was, to be prevailed upon once more to exhibit myself among these apes! What a ridiculous figure shall I be! and in the capacity of a suitor too! Pshaw! he cannot be serious! 'Tis but a friendly artifice to draw me from my solitude. Why did I promise him? Yes, my sufferings have been many; and, to oblige a friend, why should I hesitate to add another painful hour to the wretched calendar of my life! I'll go. I'll go. [Exit. SCENE II. The Antichamber. Enter CHARlotte. Char. No, indeed, my lady! If you choose to bury yourself in the country, I shall take my leave. I am not calculated for a country life. And, to sum up all, when i think of this Mrs Haller Enter SOLоmon. Sol. [Overhearing her last words.] What of Mrs Haller, my sweet' Miss? Char. Why, Mr Solomon, who is Mrs Haller ? You know every thing; you hear every thing. Sol. I have received no letters from any part of Europe on the subject, Miss. Char. But who is to blame? The Count and Countess. She dines with them; and at this very moment is drinking tea with them. Is this proper? Sol. By no means. Char. Shouldn't a Count and Countess, in all their actions, show a certain degree of pride and pomposity? Sol. To be sure! To be sure they should! Char. No, I won't submit to it. I'll tell her ladyship, when I dress her to-morrow, that either Mrs Haller or I must quit the house. Sol. [Seeing the BARON.] St! Enter BARON. Bar. Didn't I hear Mrs Haller's name here? Sol. [Confused.] Why yes-yes-we-weBar. Charlotte, tell my sister I wish to see her as soon as the tea-table is removed. Char. [Aside to SOLOMON.] Either she or I go, that I'm determined. [Exit. Bar. May I ask what it was you were saying? were talking here and there-this and that- |