him ; I were a sorry cheeld an I could grudge you that ; where shall i bring his answer Aug. It requires none. Colin. But an he craves to know your house, where mun I say you dwell ? Aug. I have no house, no home, no father, friend, or refuge, in this world; nor do I at this moment, fainting as I am with affliction and fatigue, know where to find a hospitable door. Colin. Come with me then, and I will shew you one; ah I woe is me, we hanna" all cold hearts, that occupy cold climates: I were a graceless loon indeed, when Providence ha” done so much for me, an' I could not pay bock a little to a fellow creature. Aug. Who you may be I know not ; but that sentiment persuades me I may trust you : know, in this wretched person you behold her whom you think the envied, the beloved Miss Aubrey. Colin. Miss Aubrey you Miss Aubrey I His presence be about us! and has that grete fat fellow in the city, turned his bock upon you Out on him, ugly hound, his stomach be his gravel I could find in my heart to stick my dirk into his weam. Aug. Have patience; ’tis not he ; Lord Abberville’s the source of my misfortunes. Colin. Ah, woe the while the more's his shame, I'd rather hear that he was dead. Aug. Do not mistake affliction for disgrace; I’m innocent. Colin. I see it in your face: would could say as much of him.

Aug. You know him then.

Colin, Ay, and his father afore him: Colin Maccleod’s my name.

Aug. Colin Macleod

Colin. What do you start at R Troth, there’s no shame upon’t ; 'tis not a bit the worse for my wear; honesty was aw my patrimony, and, by my sol i hanna’ spent it: I serve Lord Abberville, but not his vices.

Aug. I readily believe you; and to convince you of

it, put me, I beseech you, in some present shelter, till the labour of my hands can keep me, and hold me up but for a breathing space, till I can rally my exhausted spirits, and learn to struggle with the world.

Colin. Ay, will I by my sol, so Heaven gives life and woe betide the child that does you wrong I be na smuth'y spoken, but you shall find me true.—And look, the first door that I cast my ey’n upon, I ken the name of Macintosh : troth, 'tis a gudely omen, and prognostic; the Macintoshes and Macleods are aw of the same blood fra' long antiquity ; had we search'd aw the town we could na' find a better. [Knocks at the door.] Odzooks, fear nothing, damsel, an she be a true Macintosh, you need na' doubt a welcome.

Enter Mrs. MAcIN Tosh.

Gude day to you, madam, is your name Macintosh,

pray you ? Mrs. Mac. It is; what are your commands : Colin, Nay, hau’d a bit, gude child, we command

nought; but being, d'ye see, a Scotish kinsman of

yours, Colin Macleod by name, I crave lodgment in your house for this poor lassie.—Gude troth you need na' squant at her so closely; there's neught to be suspected; and though she may na' boast so long a pedigree as you and I do, yet for an English family, she's of no despicable house; and as for reputation, gude faith the lamb is not more innocent: respecting mine own sall I will na” vaunt, but an' you’ve any doubt, you need na' gange a mighty length to satisfy 'em ; I’m no impostor. Mrs. Mac. I see enough to satisfy me: she is a perfect beauty:—pray, young lady, walk in ; pray walk up stairs, you are heartily welcome; lack-a-day you seem piteously fatigued. Aug. indeed I want repose. Colin. Rest you awhile ; I’ll deliver your letter and call on you anon. Aug. I thank you. [Enters the house. Mrs. Mac. Heavens, what a lovely girl! Colin. Haud you bit, you’ve done this kindly, cousin Macintosh, but we’re na’ come a bagging, d’ye see; here, take this money in your hond, and let her want for nought. Mrs. Mac. You may depend upon my care. Colin. Ay, ay, I ken'd you for a Macintosh at once; I am na' apt to be mistaken in any of your clan and ’tis a comely presence that you have; troth 'tis the case with aw of you ; the Macintoshes are a very personable people. [Exit. Mrs. Mac. Another of my Scotish cousins—Oh, this E

new name of mine is a most thriving invention ; a rare device to hook in customers; when I was plain Nan Rawlins of St. Martin's parish, scarce a yard of ferret could I sell to club a prentice's hair on a Sunday morning; now there's not a knight of the histle that does not wear my green paudua soy across his shoulder, nor a Mac passes my shop who does not buy snuff and black ribband of his kinswoonan; of such consequence is it to have a good name in this world [Ex.


A Rocm in Lord A B B E R v ii, LE’s House. Enter Lord
A BB E R v I Lle, followed by several Servants.

Lord Abb. You are a most unreasonable set of getitry truly; I have but one Scotchman in my family, and you are every one of you, cook, valet, butler, up in arms to drive him out of it.

La jeu. And with reason, my lord; Monsieur Colin is a grand financier; but he has a little of what we call la maladie du pays ; he is too occonomique ; it is not for the credit of mi Lord Anglois to be too deconomique.

Lord Abb. I think, La Jeunesse, I have been at some pains to put that out of dispute ; but get you gone all together, and send the fellow to me; I begin to be as tired of him as you are.—[Exeunt servants.] —His honesty is my reproach ; these rascals flatter while they rob me: it angers me that one, who iras

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no stake, no interest in my fortune, should husband it more frugally than I who am the owner and the sufferer: in short, he is the glass in which I see myself, and the reflection tortures me; my vices have deformed me ; gaming has made a monster of me.

Re-enter LA J E UN Esse.

Lord 455. Well, is the savage coming

La jeu. He is only turning his cravet, my lord, and will be here immediately.

Lord Abb. Leave me. [Exit La Jeu.

Enter Co LIN.

Come hither, Colin; what is this I hear of you ?
Colin. Saving your presence I should guess a pratty
many lies; 'twill mostly be the case when companions
in office give charašters one of another. t
Lord 40%. But what is he whom nobody speaks
well of You are given up on all hands.
Colin. And so must truth itsall, when the de'il
turns historian. -
Lord Abb. You've been applauded for your blunt-
ness; ’tis no recommendation to me, Macleod ; and
shall I part from all my family to accommodate your
spleen ; from the stable boy to my own valet, there's
not a domestic in this house gives you a good word.
Colin. Nor never will, till I prefer their interest to
yours; hungry curs will bark; but an' your lordship
would have us regale our friends below stairs, while
you are feasting yours above, gadzooks. I have a

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