vortheilhaft aus; und in den neuern Zeiten Mrs. Lennox und Griffith. Einen sehr rühmlichen Rang behauptet unter thnen noch jetzt Mrs. Elisabeth Inchbald, die Tochter von Mr. Simpson, einem Pächter unweit Bury St. Edmunds in Suffolk. Diesen ihren Vater verlor sie schon in ihrer frühen Kindheit, und gewann bald hernach immer mehr Geschmack an Schauspielen, und selbst an der Schauspiels kunft, worin sie auf der Bühne zu Edinburg die ersten, nicht ganz unglücklichen, Versuche machte. Sie, verheirathete fich mit einem Schauspieler, Inchbald, der zuerst in London selbst, auf dem Theater in Drurylane, aber mit keinem sons derlichen Beifall, gespielt hatte, und hernach mit seiner juns gen Gattin auf verschiednen Bühneń in England und Schott: land spielte, aber schon im J. 1779 starb. Im folgenden Jahre erschien Mrs. Inchbald auf dem Schauplaße zu Lons don im Coventgarden, und hernach auch auf der Haymarkets Bühne. Seitdem verfertigte sie verschiedne Lustspiele und kleinere Stücke, in denen feiner Wih, Weltkenntniß und glückliche Gittenschilderung, unverkennbar sind. Ihre biss herigen Arbeiten sind: The Mogul-Tale; a Farce I'll tell you what Appearance is against him; a FarceThe Widow's Vow; a Farce Such Things are All on a Summer's Day Midnight Hour, aus dem Frans zösischen des Dumaniant The Child of Nature The Married Man. Von diesen Schauspielen erhielt das: I'll tell you what den größsten Beifall, `und wurde im J. 1786 zuerst auf das Haymarket: Theater gebracht. Es hat eigents lich, wie die meisten englischen Lustspiele, eine zwiefache Fabel, die aber glücklich genug in Ein Ganzes verflochten ist. Sir George Eufton, ein Landedelmann von liebenswürdigem Charakter, ist in seiner ersten Ehe nicht glücklich, und hat sich daher scheiden lassen und wieder verheirathet. Bald nach dieser zweiten Verheirathung kommt sein Oheim, Anthony Eufton, aus Westindien zurück, weiß von dieser Verändes rung rung nichts, und wird nicht wenig betroffen darüber, die erste Frau seines Neffen, der nicht zu Hause ist, vorzufinden! Er glaubt daher, sich in dem Hause zu irren, und wird von Sir George's jeßiger Gemahlin, die ihn für einen Onkel der erstern hålt, nach seines Neffen voriger Wohnung gewiesen, wo er zu seinem neuen Erstaunen einen ganz Unbekannten antrifft, der Sir George's erste Frau geheirathet hat. Dieß ist der Major Cyprus, der auch die Liebe der zweiten Frau von jenem zu gewinnen sucht, aber zurück gewiesen wird. Eine der schönsten Scenen ist die zwischen dem alten Anthony Euston, der seinen Sohn, wegen einer Heirath wider seiz nen Willen, enterbt hat, und seiner ihm noch unbekannten Schwiegertochter, die er, ohne sie zu kennen, aus der Ges fahr, von einem seiner Freunde verführt zu werden, und aus der grössten Verlegenheit gerettet hatte: Enter Servant. Mr. Anthony. Is not this the time that the Lady gave me permiffion to wait on her? Servant. The Lady fent word fhe wou'd wait on you, Sir. This is the time; and, Sir, she is coming. Mr. Anth. Shew her in. (Exit Servant.) (Mr. Anthony walks two or three turns, and then the Lady is fhewn in.) Mr. A. I hope, Madam, my message did not disturb you? Lady. Not at all, Sir. I had asked permis-. fion to see you, before I received it. (He draws chairs, and they fit.) Mr. A. Well, Madam. Unless you have en quired of the fervants, you are yet a ftranger to my name and connections. Lady. Lady, I am a ftranger to them, Sir, But your humanity must ever be engraved on my heart, Mr. 4. Then, Madam, for the fervice you are pleafed to acknowledge I have rendered you, all I re, queft, in return, is your confidence. Explain clearly to me the circumstances, the temptations that brought you into the fituation from whence I releafed you!Declare them with franknefs, and tax my humanity yet further; it (hall not forfake you. To encourage you to this confellion, my name is Lady. Hold, Sir! That is an information I cannot return therefore let us wavę it and, as I can remain grateful for your goodnefs without knowing to whom I am indebted, fo pity ftill my weakness and my miferies, without a further knowledge of the wretched fufferer. Mr. A. Madam, you have impofed on me a task too hard. "Tis true, you have won my pity; but 'tis fit you fhou'd fecure it too, And while explana: tions are reserved, Doubt, that hardener of the human heart, must be your enemy. Mr. A. Coine I wish not to exact too much but I am a man, Madam, and with every frailty incident to the species; fufpicion has its place. Lady. I know I am an objet of fufpicion but you are deceived in me indeed you are. Guilt A never harboured in my heart. Maternal tenderness, for two helpless infants, hurried me in a moment to do I know not what, rather than lose them. deed! the horror of which (altho' by the mercy of eternal Providence I have efcaped its direft confequences) must ever cover me with blufhes; and, shou'd indulgent heaven referve me for a meeting with my hus. husband, muft, with remorfe, damp every joy, the fond, fond interview would give. Mr. A. Be comforted. (Leading her to her feat I mean not to encrease, but footh your grief. Tell me but who you are, and why thus abandoned by all your relations, friends and husband? I can excufe the feelings of a mother the fudden starts, or rather madness of refolution, formed by the exceffive anguish of the foul. man failings. Truft me, I can deal tenderly with huNo frivolous curiofity, but a defire to serve you, thus urges me to entreat, you will unfold yourself. Lady. Oh, Sir, I havé a husband, I think, whe loves me... Once I am fure he did. My heart has never stray'd from him, fince our fatal union. What must that poor heart fuffer, torn with remorfe for the rash step, my mad despair suggested to preserve my children! Oh! in my bofom let his name lie hid, that none may know his wretched fortune in a haplefs wife. - Mr. A. Your reafons have satisfied me. I do not ask your name. Tell me but the circumstancer that drove you to the state from whence I released you! Be so far explicit, and I will ask no more. Lady. Moft willingly. faw me, I was friendlefs. When first my husband Compaffion caufed his love for me. Gratitude mine for him. - Forlorn and deftitute, no kind relation, no tender benefactor taught my heart' affection. - Unused to all the little offices of kindness, could they but endear the object who bestowed them? - Sense of obligation, never before excited, pressed on my thoughts, and foon was chan ged to love. He fcorned to violate the heart that was his own, and we were married. - Mr. A. Mr. A. I find no room for accufation here. - Go on go on, Madam. husband from you, and left you thus deftitute at prefent? If you can refolve me that if you still have acted with equal propriety, I am your friend I have no cenfure for you. - Lady. But you will condemn my husband éven I must own he was to blame. Born of wealthy parents, the heir to large poffeffions, and I to none, when he married, all were given up, and he changed his ftate for mine. We had no friend but in each other 1 Yet happy was the state to me, till poverty furprised us; and the fond hope (which once he cherifhed) of paternal forgiveness, vanished from my hus band. Then all our days were bitter as they had before been happy - tears were my only food, and fighs were his even reproach I have endured from him, for making him the friendless wretch he call'd himself. yet, at our parting, oh! then he cancell❜d all for when the regiment, in which he ferved, was ordered from the kingdom, he hung upon me, clasped his poor children, begg'd our forgiveness for the thousand outrages, distress of our misfortunes had caused him to commit fwore that affection for us was the fource of, his impatience to bless us, whatever might be his fate Yet - prayed heaven nay, prayed that death might speedily be his doom, so that it turned his father's heart to us. Lady. Yes; but all in vain; and two months fince, hearing my husband was made prifoner, and deftitute of every relief and every hope while he remained fo, I left my children, and came to London, refol |