the duke and he had not been upon terms. The honour of the family requiring that the affair should be hushed up as effectually as possible, matters were so contrived that it made but little noise. Where power can affect it, justice is speedily done. The slave returned no more to the galleys; his chains of iron were exchanged for bonds of silk. He was adopted by the cardinal, and in his friendship, and the love of the countess, found more than a solace for the sufferings he had undergone. WERE NA MY HEART LICHT. [Lady Grizel Baillie, born at Redbraes Castle, Berwickshire, 25th December, 1665; died in London, 6th December, 1746. She was the daughter of Sir Patrick Hume of Polwarth, who became the first Earl of Marchmont. She married George Baillie of Jerviswood, whose father suffered death on account of his devotion to the cause of civil and religious liberty. George was himself obliged to seek safety in Holland, whence he returned to his native land in the train of William of Orange. Living in a period of much excitement, Lady Grizel performed many acts of heroismwhilst her father was in hiding in the vaults of Polwarth Church, she managed to supply him with food; and on various occasions, when the lives of those who were dear to her were in danger, she succeeded in helping them and outwitting all the vigilance of the authorities. It was during her residence in Holland, that she wrote. her songs; many of them she left unfinished, but a few of the most perfect were published in the Tea-Table Miscellany, and other collections of poetry. Her daughter, Lady Murray of Stanhope, wrote an interesting account of her life, which was printed in 1809 and again in 1822.] His kin was for ane of a higher degree, They said I had neither cow nor calf, His titty she was baith wylie and slee, And then she ran in, &c. His bonnet stood aye fu' round on his brow; His auld ane look'd aye as weel as some's new; But now he lets 't wear ony gate it will hing, And casts himself dowie upon the corn-bing. But now he, &c. And now he gaes daundrin' about the dykes, The live-lang nicht, &c. Were I young for thee, as I ha'e been, SADIK BEG. Sadik Beg was of good family, handsome in person, and possessed of both sense and courage, but he was poor, having no property but his sword and his horse, with which he served as a gentleman retainer of a nabob. The latter, satisfied of the purity of Sadik's descent, and entertaining a respect for his character, determined to make him the husband of his daughter Hooseinee, who, though beautiful, as her name implied, was remarkable for her haughty manner and ungovernable temper. Giving a husband of the condition of Sadik Beg to a lady of Hooseinee's rank, was, according to usage in such unequal matches, like giving her a slave, and as she heard a good report of his personal qualities, she offered no objections to the marriage, which was celebrated soon after it was proposed, and apartments were assigned to the happy couple in the nabob's palace. Some of Sadik Beg's friends rejoiced in his good fortune; as they saw, in the connection he had formed, a sure prospect of his advancement. Others mourned the fate of so fine and promising a young man, now condemned to bear through life all the humours of a proud and capricious woman; but one of his friends, a little man called Merdek, who was completely henpecked, was particularly rejoiced, and quite chuckled at the thought of seeing another in the same condition with himself. About a month after the nuptials, Merdek met his friend, and, with malicious pleasure, wished him joy of his marriage. "Most sincerely do I congratulate you, Sadik," said he, "on this happy event.' "Thank you, my good fellow, I am very happy indeed, and rendered more so by the joy I perceive it gives my friends." "Do you really mean to say you are happy?" said Merdek, with a smile. "I really am so," replied Sadik. "Nonsense!" said his friend; "do we not all know to what a termagant you are united? and her temper and high rank combined must no doubt make her a sweet companion." Here he burst into a loud laugh, and the little man actually strutted with a feeling of superiority over the bridegroom. Sadik, who knew his situation and feelings, was amused instead of being angry. "My friend," said he, "I quite understand the grounds of your apprehension for my happiness. Before I was married I had heard the same reports as you have done of my beloved bride's disposition; but, I am happy to say, I have found it quite otherwise; she is a most docile and obedient wife." "But how has this miraculous change been wrought?" "Why," said Sadik, "I believe I have some merit in effecting it, but you shall hear. "After the ceremonies of our nuptials were over, I went, in my military dress, and with my sword by my side, to the apartment of Hooseinee. She was sitting in a most dignified posture to receive me, and her looks were anything but inviting. As I entered the room, a beautiful cat, evidently a great favourite, came purring up to me. I deliberately drew my sword, struck its head off, and taking that in one hand and the body in the other, threw them out of the window. I then very unconcernedly turned to the lady, who appeared in some alarm; she, however, made no observations, but was in every way kind and submissive, and has continued so ever since." "Thank you, my dear fellow," said little Merdek, with a significant shake of the head -"a word to the wise;" and away he capered, obviously quite rejoiced. It was near evening when this conversation took place; soon after, when the dark cloak of night had enveloped the bright radiance of day, Merdek entered the chamber of his spouse, with something of a martial swagger, armed with a scimitar. The unsuspecting cat came forward, as usual, to welcome the husband of her mistress, but in an instant her head was divided from her body by a blow from the hand which had so often caressed her. Merdek, having proceeded so far courageously, stooped to take up the dissevered members of the cat, but before he could effect this, a blow upon the side of the head from his incensed lady laid him sprawling on the floor. The tattle and scandal of the day spreads from zenaneh to zenaneh with surprising rapidity, and the wife of Merdek saw in a moment whose example it was that he imitated. "Take that," said she, as she gave him another cuff, "take that, you paltry wretch. You should," she added, laughing him to scorn, "have killed the cat on the wedding-day." SIR JOHN MALCOM. TO THE HUSBANDMAN. A little furrow holds thy scatter'd seed, GOETHE. A TRAGEDY REHEARSED. Dang. It is the underplot, isn't it? Puff. Oh, very well!-Hark'ee, I don't choose to say anything more; but i' faith, they have mangled my play in a most shocking manner. Dang. It's a great pity! Puff. Now, then, Mr. Justice, if you please. "Just. Const Just. [Richard Brinsley Sheridan, born in Dublin, 1751; died in Saville Row, London, 7th July, 1816. Dramatist, poet, wit, and politician. Before he was twenty, he translated some of the lesser poems of Theocritus, and the Love Epistles of Aristænetus in conjunction with his friend H. Halhed. When aged about twentytwo he married Miss Linley, a very popular singer, but he never allowed his wife to appear on the stage after their union. Three years after his marriage, his first comedy, The Rivals, was performed at Covent Garden Theatre. It was followed by St. Patrick's Day, or the Scheming Lieutenant, a farce in two acts; The Duenna, a comic opera; A Trip to Scarborough, an adaptation from Vanbrugh's comedy of The Relapse. In 1777, when he had purchased Garrick's share in the patent of Const.. Drury Lane and become manager of that theatre, he produced there the School for Scandal, which immediately "took the town by storm," and its popularity seems to be unabated in our own time. Two years later, he produced The Critic, or a Tragedy Rehearsed, in which, Just. with infinite humour, he burlesqued the style and method most in favour with dramatists and novelists. Of his subsequent dramatic works, Pizarro and The Stranger, adaptations from plays of Kotzebue, are the most notable. From 1780 until 1812, he was in Parliament, and distinguished himself as an orator, even more than he had done as a dramatic writer; but during this period, his own carelessness about business, his extravagance, and the destruction of Drury Lane by fire, involved him in pecuniary difficulties, which undoubtedly con tributed to hasten his end, although they have been the source of many amusing anecdotes.1] SCENE:-The Theatre, before the Curtain. Enter PUFF, SNEER, and DANGLE. Puff. Come, we must not lose time; so now for the underplot. Sneer. What the plague, have you another plot? Const. And clear convicted crimes have stamp'd him soldier? He waits your pleasure; eager to repay The blest reprieve that sends him to the Of glory, there to raise his branded hand 'Tis well-'tis justice arms him! I fly, the herald of your will. Puff. Quick, sir. [Exit." Sneer. But, Mr. Puff, I think not only the Justice, but the clown seems to talk in as high a style as the first hero among them. Puff. Heaven forbid they should not in a free country!-Sir, I am not for making slavish distinctions, and giving all the fine language to the upper sort of people. Dang. That's very noble in you, indeed. "Enter JUSTICE'S LADY." Puff. Now, pray mark this scene. "Lady. Puff. O Lord, yes; ever while you live have two plots to your tragedy. The grand point in managing them is only to let your underplot have as little connection with your mainplot as possible.-I flatter myself nothing can be more distinct than mine; for as in my chief plot the characters are all great people, I have laid my underplot in low life; and as the former Just. is to end in deep distress, I make the other end as happy as a farce.-Well, we are ready; now then for the justices. [Curtain rises. "JUSTICES, CONSTABLES, &c., discovered." Sneer. This, I suppose, is a sort of senate Just. scene. Puff. To be sure; there has not been one yet. 1 See note to Hazlitt's essay on "The Want of Money," Library, vol. ii. page 364. In the following extract from the Critic, Puff is the author of the tragedy in rehearsal, Dangle and Sneer are his friends. As I have heard, a fishmonger-no more." Puff. What, sir, do you leave out the account Of his sign'd Tomkins, creditor. I do. No orphan, nor without a friend art thou- O ecstacy of bliss! O most unlook'd for happiness! O wonderful event! [They faint alternately in each other's arms." Puff. There, you see relationship, like murder, will out. Dang. That's a very short soliloquy. Puff. Yes-but it would have been a great deal longer if he had not been observed. Sneer. A most sentimental Beefeater that, Mr. Puff! Puff. Hark'ee-I would not have you be too sure that he is a Beefeater. Sneer. What, a hero in disguise? Puff. No matter-I only give you a hint. But now for my principal character. Here he comes- -Lord Burleigh in person! Pray, gentlemen, step this way-softly-I only hope the Now let's revive-else were this joy too Lord High Treasurer is perfect-if he is but much! But come-and we'll unfold the rest within; And thou, my boy, must needs want rest Hence may each orphan hope, as chance To find a father-where he least expects !" Puff. What do you think of that? [Exeunt." perfect! "Enter LORD BURLEIGH, goes slowly to a chair, and sits." Sneer. Mr. Puff! Puff. Hush!-Vastly well, sir! vastly well! a most interesting gravity! Dang. What, isn't he to speak at all? Dang. One of the finest discovery-scenes I-Yes, it is a very likely thing that a minister ever saw! Why, this underplot would have made a tragedy itself. Sneer. Ay, or a comedy either. in his situation, with the whole affairs of the nation on his head, should have time to talk! -But hush! or you'll put him out. Puff. And keeps quite clear, you see, of the that be, if he's not going to say anything! Sneer. Put him out! how the plague can other. Enter SCENEMEN, taking away the seats. Puff. The scene remains, does it? Puff. You are to leave one chair, you know. -But it is always awkward in a tragedy, to have you fellows coming in in your playhouse liveries to remove things.-I wish that could be managed better.-So now for my mysterious yeoman. Puff. There's the reason! why, his part is to think; and how the plague do you imagine he can think if you keep talking? Dang. That's very true, upon my word! "LORD BURLEIGH comes forward, shakes his head, and exit." Sneer. He is very perfect indeed! Now, pray what did he mean by that? Puff. You don't take it? Sneer. No I don't, upon my soul. Puff. Why, by that shake of the head he gave you to understand that even though they Perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee." had more justice in their cause, and wisdom in their measures-yet if there was not a greater spirit shown on the part of the people, the country would at last fall a sacrifice to the hostile ambition of the Spanish monarchy. Sneer. The devil! did he mean all that by shaking his head? Puff. Every word of it-if he shook his head as I taught him. Dang. Ah! there certainly is a vast deal to be done on the stage by dumb show and expression of face; and a judicious author knows how much he may trust to it. Sneer. Oh, here are some of our old acquaint ance. |