think 'tis very possible an interview between him and your brother may be prevented.

Belf. jun. I think so, too. Go then, Francis, and conduct the old gentleman hither; I see Violetta coming. [Exit FRANCIS.] Sure, there is something in that woman's story uncommonly mysterious.-Of English parents-born in Lisbon-her family and fortune buried in the earthquake; so much she freely tells; but more, I am convinced, remains untold, and of a melancholy sort: she has once or twice, as I thought, seemed disposed to unbosom herself to me; but it is so painful to be told of sorrows one has not power to relieve, that I have hitherto avoided the discourse.

Enter VIOLETtta.

Well, madam, melancholy still? still that face of sorrow and despair? twice shipwrecked, and twice rescued from the jaws of death, do you regret your preservation? and have I incurred your displeasure by prolonging your existence ?

Vio. Not so, Mr. Lewson; such ingratitude be far from me: can I forget, when the vessel, in which I had sailed from Portugal, foundered by your side, with what noble, what benevolent ardour, you flew to my assistance? Regardful only of my safety, your own seemed no part of your care.

Belf. jun. Oh! no more of this; the preservation of a fellow creature is as natural as self defence: you now, for the first time in your life, breathe the air of England-a rough reception it has given you; but be not, therefore, discouraged; our hearts, Violetta, are more accessible than our shores; nor can you find inhospitality in Britain, save only in our cli

mate.

Vio. These characteristics of the English may be I take my estimate from a less favourable example.

just;

Belf. jun. Villany, madam, is the growth of every soil; nor can I, while yonder habitation is in my view, forget, that England has given birth to monsters, that disgrace humanity; but this I will say for my countrymen, that, where you can point out one rascal with a heart to wrong you, I will produce fifty honest fellows ready and resolute to redress you.

Vio. Ah!-But on what part of the English coast is it that we are now landed?

Belf. jun. On the coast of Cornwall.

Vio. Of Cornwall is it? You seem to know the owner of that house: are you well acquainted with the country hereabouts?

Belf. jun. Intimately; it has been the cradle of my infancy, and, with little interruption, my residence

ever since.

Vio. You are amongst your friends, then, no doubt; how fortunate is it, that you will have their consolation and assistance in your distress!

Belf. jun. Madam !

Vio. Every moment will bring them down to the very shores; this brave, humane, this hospitable people, will flock, in crowds, to your relief; your friends, Mr. Lewson

Belf. jun. My friends, Violetta! must I confess it to you, I have no friends !-Those rocks, that have thus scattered my treasures-those waves, that have devoured them-to me are not so fatal, as hath been that man, whom Nature meant to be my nearest friend.

Vio. What, and are you a fellow sufferer, then? Is this the way you reconcile me to your nation? Are these the friends of human kind? Why don't we fly from this ungenerous, this ingrateful country?

Belf. jun. Hold, madam! one villain, however base, can no more involve a whole nation in his crimes, than one example, however dignified, can in

spire it with his virtues.-Thank Heaven, the worthless owner of that mansion is yet without a rival.

Vio. You have twice directed my attention to that house; 'tis a lovely spot; what pity, that so delicious a retirement should be made the residence of so undeserving a being !

Belf. jun. It is, indeed, a charming place; and was once the seat of hospitality and honour; but its present possessor, Andrew Belfield-Madam! for Hea ven's sake, what ails you? You seem suddenly disordered. Have I said

Vio. No, 'tis nothing; don't regard me, Mr. Lewson; I am weak, and subject to these surprises; I shall be glad, however, to retire.

Belf. jun. A little repose, I hope, will relieve you; within this hut some accommodation may be found: lean on my arm.

[Leads her to the Door of the Cabin.

Enter OLD GOODWIN.

O. Good. Heaven defend me! do my eyes deceive me? 'tis wondrous like his shape, his air, his look— Belf. jun. What is your astonishment, friend? Do you know me? If it was not for that habit, I should say, your name is Goodwin.

O. Good. "Tis he! he is alive! my dear young master, Mr. Belfield! Yes, Sir, my name is Goodwin : however changed my appearance, my heart is still the same, and overflows with joy at this unexpected meeting.

Belf. jun. Give me thy hand, my old, my honest friend and is this sorry hole thy habitation?

O. Good. It is.

Belf. jun. The world, I see, has frowned on thee since we parted.

O. Good. Yes, sir: but what are my misfortunes ? You must have undergone innumerable hardships; and now, at last, shipwrecked on your own coast!

Well, but your vessel is not totally lost; and we will work night and day in saving your effects.

Belf. jun. Oh! as for that, the sea gave all, let it take back a part: I have enough on shore not to envy my brother his fortune. But there is one blessing, Master Goodwin, I own I should grudge him the possession of There was a young lady

O. Good. What, sir, haven't you forgot Miss Sophia?

Belf. jun. Forgot her! my heart trembles while I ask you, if she is, indeed, as you call her, Miss Sophia ?

O. Good. She is yet unmarried, though every day we expect―

Belf. jun. 'Tis enough! Fortune, I acquit thee !— Happy be the winds that threw me on this coast, and blest the rocks that received me! Let my vessel go to pieces; she has done her part in bearing me hither; while I can cast myself at the feet of my Sophia, recount to her my unabating passion, and have one fair struggle for her heart. [Exeunt.

Enter VIOLETTA.

Vio. Once more I am alone.-How my heart sunk when Lewson pronounced the name of Belfield! it must be he! it must be my false, cruel, yet (spite of all my wrongs) beloved, husband! Yes, there he lives -each circumstance confirms it :-Cornwall the county; here the sea coast, and these white craggy cliffs; there the disposition of his seat-the grove, lake, lawn; every feature of the landscape tallies with the descriptions he has given me of it. What shall I do, and to whom shall I complain? When Lewson spoke of him, it was with a bitterness that shocked me; I will not disclose myself to him; by what fell from him, I suspect he is related to Mr. Belfield. But, hush! I talk to these rocks, and forget that they have ears !

Enter FANNY.

Fanny. Are you any better, madam? Is the air of any service to you?

Vio. I am much relieved by it: the beauty of that place attracted my attention; and, if you please, we will walk further up the hill, to take a nearer view of it. [Exeunt.

Enter Part of the CREW.

Omnes. Huzza! huzza! huzza!

1 Sailor. Long life to your honour! welcome ashore, noble captain!

2 Sailor. Avast there, Jack! stand clear, and let his old honour pass; bless his heart, he looks cheerly, howsomever; let the world wag as it will, he'll never flinch.

3 Sailor. Not he! he's true English oak to the heart of him; and a fine old seaman-like figure he is.

Enter IRONSIDES and SKIFF.

Ironsides. Ah, messmates, we're all aground; I have been taking a parting cup with the Charming Sally-she's gone; but the stoutest bark must have an end; Master here, and I, did all we could to lighten her; we took leave of her in an officer-like

manner.

1 Sailor. Hang sorrow; we know the worst on't'tis only taking a fresh cruize; and, for my part, I'll sail with Captain Ironsides as far as there's water to carry me.

Omnes. So we will all!

Ironsides. Say ye so, my hearts; if the wind sits that way, hoist sail, say I; old George will make one amongst you, if that be all; I hate an idle life.So, so-away to your work; to-morrow we'll make a day on't. [Exeunt SAILORS,

Ironsides. Skiff!