There, Gayville, is one reply to your challenge-and now for another.

Rightly. One moment, sir-I engage for no secresy that my own judgment shall not warrant.

Cliff. And the benevolence of your heart approveThose are my conditions.

[Exeunt on opposite sides.

Scene II.-Hyde Park.

Enter LORD GAYVILLE impetuously, looking at his watch. Lord G. Not here! I am sure I marked the hour as well as the place, precisely in my note. [Walks about.] Had I been told three days ago, that I should have been the appellant in a premeditated duel, I should have thought it an insult upon my principles-That Clifford should be the cause of my transgressing the legal and sacred duties, we have ever both maintained-oh, it would have seemed a visionary impossibility-But he comes to cut reflections short

Lord G. That ceremonial would grace an encounter of punctilio, but applies ill to the terms upon which I have called you bere.

Cliff. What terms are those, my lord?

Lord G. Vengeance! Ample, final vengeance! Draw, sir.

Cliff. No, my lord; my sword is reserved for more becoming purposes: it is not the instrument of passion; and has yet been untried in a dispute with my friend.

Lord G. But why is it not ready for a different trial, the vindication of perfidy, the blackest species of per

fidy, that ever the malignant enemy of mankind infused into the human breast-perfidy to the friend who loved and trusted you, and in the nearest interests of his heart.

Cliff. Take care, my lord; should my blood boil like yours, and it is rising fast, you know not the punishment that awaits you. I came temperate, your gross provocation and thirst of blood make temperance appear disgrace I am tempted to take a revenge

Lord G. [Draws.] The means are ready. Come, sir, you are to give an example of qualities generally held incompatible-bravery and dishonour.

Cliff. Another such a word, and by heaven!-How have I deserved this opinion?

Lord G. Ask your conscience-Under the mask of friendship you have held a secret intercourse with the woman I adore; you have supplanted me in her affections, you have robbed me of the very charm of my life -can you deny it?

Cliff. I avow it all.

Lord G. Unparalleled insolence of guilt!

Cliff. Are you sure there is nothing within the scope of possibility that would excuse or atone

Lord G. Death-Death only-no abject submission -no compromise for infamy-choose instantly—and save yourself from the only stretch of baseness leftthe invention of falsehood to palliate

Cliff. [In the utmost agitation, and drawing his sword.] Falsehood!--You shall have no other explanation.— [After a struggle within himself, CLIFFORD drops the point, and exposes his breast.]

Lord G. Stand upon your defence, sir-What do you

mean?

Cliff. You said nothing but my life would satisfy you, take it, and remember me.

Lord G. I say so still-but upon an equal pledgeI am no assassin.

Cliff. [With great emotion.]. If to strike at the heart of your friend, more deeply than that poor instrument in your hand could do, makes an assassin, you have been one already.

Lord G. That look, that tone, how like to innocence! Had he not avowed such abominable practices

Cliff. I avow them again: I have rivalled you in the love of the woman you adore-her affections are rivetted to me. I have removed her from your sight; secured her from your recovery

Lord G. D-nation!

Cliff. I have done it to save unguarded beauty; to save unprotected innocence; to save—a sister. Lord G. A sister!

Cliff. [With exultation.] Vengeance! Ample, final vengeance! [A pause.] It is accomplished-over him— and over myself-my victory is complete.

Lord G. Where shall I hide

my shame!

Cliff. We'll share it, and forget it here. [Embraces. Lord G. Why did you keep the secret from me?

Cliff. I knew it not myself, till the strange concurrence of circumstances, to which you were in part witness a few hours since, brought it to light. I meant to impart to you the discovery, when my temper took fire-Let us bury our mutual errors in the thought, that we now for life are friends.

Lord G. Brothers, Clifford-Let us interchange that title, and doubly, doubly ratify it. Unite me to your charming sister; accept the hand of Lady Emily in return her heart I have discovered to be yoursWe'll leave the world to the sordid and the tasteless; let an Alscrip, or a Sir Clement Flint, wander after the phantom of happiness, we shall find her real retreat, and hold her by the bonds she covets, virtue, love, and friendship.

Cliff. Not a word more, my lord, the bars against your proposal are insuperable.

Lord G. What bars?

Cliff. Honour, propriety-and pride.
Lord G. Pride, Clifford !

Cliff. Yes, my lord; Harriet Clifford shall not steal the hand of a prince; nor will I-though doting on Lady Emily with a passion like your own, bear the idea of a clandestine union in a family, to whom I am bound by obligation and trust. Indeed, my lord, without Sir Clement's consent, you must think no more of my sister.

Lord G. Stern stoic, but I will, and not clandestinely; I'll instantly to Sir Clement.

Cliff. Do not be rash; Fortune, or some better agent, is working in wonders-Meet me presently at your uncle's; in the meanwhile promise not to stir in this business.

Lord G. What hope from delay?

Cliff. Promise

Lord G. I am in a state to catch at shadows-I'll

try to obey you.

Cliff. Farewell!

[Exeunt.

Scene III.-Sir Clement's House.

Enter MISS ALSCRIP, in great spirits, followed by MRS. BLANDISH.

Miss Als. I am delighted at this summons from Sir Clement, Blandish; poor old clear sight, I hope he has projected a reconciliation.

Mrs. Bland. How I rejoice to see those smiles returned to the face that was made for them!

Miss Als. Returned, Blandish? I desire you will not insinuate it ever was without them-Why sure, you

would not have the world imagine the temper of an heiress of my class, was to be ruffled by the loss of a paltry earl-I have been highly diverted with what has passed from beginning to end.

Mrs. Bland. Well, if good humour can be a fault, sure the excess you carry it to must be the example. Miss Als. I desire it may be made known in all companies, that I have done nothing but laugh-nay,

it is true too.

Mrs. Bland. My dear creature, of what consequence is the truth, when you are charging me with the execution of your desires?

Miss Als. But did you remember the airs of the moppet-Could any thing be more ridiculous? Mrs. Bland. The rivalship you mean -Rival Miss Alscrip. He he he! [Half laugh. Miss Als. Yes, but when you take this tone in public, laugh a little louder.

Mrs. Bland. Rival Miss Alscrip, ha! ha! ha!

Both. Ha! ha! ha!, ha! ha! ha!

Mrs. Bland. [Wiping her eyes, as not quite recovered from her laugh.] For mirth's sake, what is become of the rival?-Whom will you choose she shall have run away with?

Miss Als. Leave it in doubt as it is; fixing circumstances confines the curiosity to one story which may be disproved; uncertainty leaves it open to a hundred, and makes them all probable. But I hear some of the company upon the stairs: now, Blandish-You shall be witness to the temper and dignity, with which a woman of my consequence can discard a quality courtship that

offends her

Mrs. Bland. Sweet tempered soul!

Enter SIR CLEMENT FLINT.

Sir C. Miss Alscrip, your

[As he is beginning to say your humble servant,