"Col. Under a Prince of the Blood.
"Cor. Nor with him, unless on guard at Court."

Lorenzo accidentally mentions an insult to the corps. The Countess had called them troopers. This irreparable offence rouses them all, and they determine on taking up the affair as regimental, and pursuing the family to the extreme of contempt. In this high conclave it is determined to impose a mock prince upon the family, since they are so fond of title; and for this impostor they look in the public jail. A series of felons are exhibited and questioned. But the true hero of the piece is now to come forth. This is Torrento, an adventurer; bold, buoyant, fantastic, and contemptuous; a wanderer through the world, and flung up and down through life with a caprice which has at length made a part of his mind. Familiar with all the jails of the island, this wild gallant had been arrested the night before, serenading under the chamber window of Ventoso's younger daughter, Leonora. He is dragged out of his dungeon to be exhibited, and he retorts this violence with fearless and unsparing scorn.

"Jail. Bring him along.

[He is forced in. "Tor. Cannot I sleep, or starve as I like? I'll blow up the prison. I'll massacre the jailor. I'll do worse-I'll let the law loose on you— Villains.

"Jail. Poh! Master Torrento, you need not be in such a passion. You used to have no objection to good company-ha, ha, ha! He has been moulting his feathers a little last night.

[To the Hussars.

"Tor. Company-Banditti! Who are those fellows? Are they all hangmen?

"Maj. A mighty handsome idea, by the glory of the Twentieth. [Laughing. "Col. Sirrah! you must see that we are officers. Take care. "Tor. Officers!-aye, sheriff's Officers. Honest housekeepers, with very rascally countenances.

"Cor. Muffs and meerschaums!-Very impudently conjectured. "Tor. Well then, parish Officers! Hunters of brats, beggars, and light-bread.

"Maj. (Laughing.)-Another guess for your life.

66

Col. Insolence! Sirrah, we are in His Majesty's service.. "Tor. Oh! I understand-Custom-house Öfficers, tubs, tobacco, and thermometers.

"Cor. Cut off the scoundrel's head!

[They murmur. [Half drawing his sabre.

'Tor. I knew it; ardent spirits, every soul of them-seizers. Maj. Cæsars! Well done. This is our man-I like him ;-the freshest rascal;

"Tor. Jailor, I will not be disturbed for any man. Why am I brought out before these,-fellows in livery? This jail is my house; my freehold; my goods and chattels. My very straw's my own; untouchable, but by myself-and the rats.

"Maj. Here's a freeholder!

"Col. With a vote for the galleys.

"Tor. (Turning to the prisoners, harangues burlesquely.)—Gentlemen of the jail[The Prisoners cheer.

"Col. A decided speech!

"Cor. Out of the orator's way! Muffs and meerschaums! [The prisoners lift TORRENTO on a bench, laughing and clamouring.

"Tor. (Haranguing.)-Are we to suffer ourselves to be molested in our retirement; in our domestic circle; in the loveliness of our private lives; in our otium cum dignitate? Gentlemen of the jail! (Cheering.)— Is not our residence here for our country's good? (Cheering.)-Would it not be well for the country if ten times as many, that hold their heads high, outside these walls, were now inside them?-(Cheering)-I scorn to appeal to your passions; but shall we suffer our honourable straw, our venerable bread and water, our virtuous slumbers, and our useful days, to be invaded, crushed, and calcitrated, by the iron boot-heel of arrogance and audacity? (Cheering.)—No! freedom is like the air we breathe, without it we die.-No! every man's cell is his castle. By the law, we live here; and should not all that live by the law, die by the law?-Now, Gentlemen, a general cheer! here's Liberty, Property, and Purity of principle! Gentlemen of the jail!"— [They carry him round the hall. Loud cheering.

This arrangement is at length made. Torrento in the hope of seeing Leonora, undertakes the scheme. The third Act exhibits its progress by the mission of a letter to the Count Ventoso's family, announcing that the Prince de Pindemonte will visit them for the purpose of marrying their daughter. The Act commences with a song by Victoria, who is overwhelmed by recollections of her rejected lover.

ACT III. SCENE I.

An Apartment, with a Balcony.

VICTORIA alone.

"Farewell! I've broke my chain at last!
I stand upon life's fatal shore!

The bitterness of death is past,

Nor love nor scorn can wring me more.
I lov'd, how deeply lov'd! Oh, Heaven!
To thee, to thee the pang is known ;
Yet, traitor! be thy crime forgiven,
Mine be the shame, the grief alone!

The maddening hour when first we met,
The glance, the smile, the vow you gave,
The last wild moment, haunt me yet;
I feel they'll haunt me to my grave!—
Down, wayward heart, no longer heave:
Thou idle tear, no longer flow;

And may that Heav'n he dar'd deceive,
Forgive, as I forgive him now.

Too lovely, oh, too lov'd, farewell!
Though parting rends my bosom's strings,
This hour we part!-The grave shall tell
The thought that to my spirit clings.
Thou pain, above all other pain!
Thou joy, all other joys above!
Again, again I feel thy chain,

And die thy weeping martyr-Love."

Leonora runs in to tell her that a pageant is approaching the house, and finds her in tears, which she attempts to conceal in vain.

"Leon. Sweet sister! here are heavy signs
Of a pained spirit; sighs upon your lips,
Blushes, that die away like summer-hues
On the cropt rose; and here's a heaving heart,
The very beat of woe!"

The pageant has no charms for Victoria, and, in the sound of the approaching flutes and horns, she continues absorbed in her own subject

"Vic. Let's rail at love.

"Leon. (Laughing.)-Aye, a whole summer's day.
"Vic. Love is the lightest folly of the earth;

An infants toy, that reason throws away:

A dream, that quits our eyelids with a touch;
A music, dying as it leaves the lip:

A morning cloud, dissolv'd before the sun;
Love is the very echo of weak hearts;
The louder for their emptiness; a shade,
A colour of the rainbow;-vanity!"

The Prince's letter is delivered, and his offer is accepted with some distrust by the Count's habitual alarm at dealings with Grandees, but by the Countess with boundless exultation. On their retiring to give orders for his reception in the evening; the daughters touch upon the topic, Victoria still in dejection.

Be sure the man is young,

"Vic. Who is this Prince?

"Leon.

Handsome, and rich, who has so wise a taste.

Lorenzo too will suffer, 'tis revenge.

"Vic. (Indignantly.)-Twill be a deep revenge! It shall be done. I'll wed this Prince, were he the lowest slave

That ever bronzed beneath a Moorish sun.

We shall follow the plot no farther,leaving it to our readers, and the population of the Covent Garden Theatre, to indulge themselves with the adventures of the Comedy. Yet a few of those poetic fragments which can be put under characteristic titles, may still be given as specimens of the versification.

REJOICING.

"Lor. Fair ladies, nobles, gallant cavaliers! This day shall be a bright one in the web

Wherein our lives are pictur'd. Thro' all years
This shall be holiday. The prison gates
Shall know no envious bars; rich pageantries
Shall paint our love-tale; children's merry tongues
Shall lisp our names: and old men, o'er their fires,
Flourish their cups above their hoary heads,
And drink our memory!

"The Prince!

AN ITALIAN NOBLE.

He's the true Phoenix!-I have heard of him
Through all the 'Change,—a bird of Paradise!
A man of gold and silver! a true mine!
Lord of Calabria! I shall be a duke!

Why, he could buy the bank of Venice; sleep
Bedded on ingots; play at dice with gems,
Common as counters-Prince de Pindemonté,
Next to the Italian throne!

Most glorious news! I dream'd of it last night!
Saw golden showers, proud dames and cavaliers,
All silk and diamonds.

"Tor.

OSTENTATION.

Countess your slave!

What jewels would you choose to wear in church?
My noble father; there's a hunting lodge,
A trifling thing of fifty thousand crowns,
In my Calabrian woods. The toy is yours.
If you have friends who wish for pension, place,
Now is their time to ask. Give me your ear.
I made the Minister. (Aside.)-Be what they will,
Consuls, Commissioners-east, west, north, south,
I will provide for them. Lead on, my Lord!

[TO VENTOSO.

[A dance is heard within. Breathe sweet, ye flutes! Ye dancers, lightly move, For life is rapture, when 'tis crown'd by love! FAMILY PRIDE.

"Can birth bequeath

Mind to the mindless; spirit to the vile;
Valour to the dastards; virtue to the knave-
"Tis nobler to stand forth the architect
Of our own fame, than lodge i' the dusty halls
Of ancestry!-To shine before the world,
Like sunrise from the dusk, than twinkle on
In far and feeble starlight!

Here we part;