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With Ramsay from the plain.-But see! they

CATTAN: We must avoid them, and retire unseen. [come,

(Exeunt.

Curse on my feeble arm that fail'd to strike

The poniard to thy heart !-How like a dog
SCENE III. An apartment.

I tamely fall despis'd!

ANGUS.
ANGUS, RAMSAY.

Fell ruffian! say,
ANGUS.

Who set thee on?-This treachery, I fear,
By Heav'ns it much alarms me!-Wide o'er all

Is but the prelude to some dreadful scene!-The dusky plain, by the fires half extinct,

CATTAN.
Are seen the soldiers, roll'd in braps confus’d,
The slaves of brutal appetite.-Save those

Just are thy terrours.-By the infernal gulph Beneath thy discipline, scarce one remains That opens to receive me! I would plunge From the contagion free.

Into the abyss with joy, could the success

Of Athol feast my sense!
RAMSAY

[A noise of clashing swords and shrieks. When we return'd Fatigu'd from battle, numbers brought, unask'd,

-Hah! -now the sword Refreshments for the wounded from the town:

Of slaughter smoaks!—Th’exulting thane surveys Thence the temptation spread from rank to rank, Th’imperial scene; while grimly smiling Grime And few resisted.

With purple honour deck'd

ANGUS.
ANGUS.
But that I consult

Tremendous powers! My king's tranquillity, and would not wake

CATTAN. The affrighted citizens with aların,

O'er the fall'n tyrant strides.

[Dies. An hundred trumpets should this instant raise Their brazen throats together, and arouse

ANGUS. Th’extended sluggards.-Go, my valiant friend,

Hear'n shield us all! And with thy uninfected troops attend

Amazing borrour chills me!-Ha, Dunbar! To ev'ry motion of th' incertain night.

Then treason triumphs!--O my soul! my son!

(Exit Ramsay.
SCENE IV.

SCENE VI.
ANGUS.

ANGUS, DUNBAR wounded.
Now, the loud tempest of the toilful day

DUNBAR.
Subsides into a calm. -And yet my soul
Still labours thro' the storm!-By day or night,

I sought thee, noble thane, while yet my limbs In forid youth, or mellow age, scarce fleets

Obey their lord.-I sougit thee, to unfold One hour without its care!-Not sleep itself My zealous soul, ere yet she takes her flightIs ever balmy: for the shadowy dream

Stretch'd on the ground, these eyes beheld the king Oit bears substantial woe!

Transfix'd a liteless corse! and saw this arın

Too late to save-too feeble to avenge him! -
SCENE Y.

ANGUS.
ANGUS, CATTAN.

Weep Caledonia, weep!-thy peace is slain
CATTAN.

Thy tather and thy king!-O! this event,
My noble lord,

Like a vast mountain, loads my stagg'ring soul,

And crushes all her pow'rs! - Put say, my friend, Within the portal as I kept my watch, Swift gliding shadows by the glimın'ring Moon

If yet thy strength permits, how this befei. I could perceive, in forms of armed men,

DUNBAR. Possess the space that borders on the porch

A band of rebels, glean'd from the defeat I question'd thrice; they yielded no reply:

By Athol, lurk'd behind the adjacent hills : And now the soldiers, rang'd in close array,

These, faithless Cattan, favour'd by the night, Wait your command.

Admitted to the city, join'd their power
ANGUS.

With his corrupted guard, and hither led them
Quick, lead me to the place-Unmark'd, where soon they enter'd unoppos'd.-

Alarm'd, I strove-but strove, alas! in vain. Foul treason is at work!

To the sad scene, ere I could force my way, CATTAN.

Our monarch was no more! Around him Jay It were not good

A heap of traitors, whom his single arm To venture forth unarm’d,--Courageous thane,

Had slain before he fell.—Th’unhappy queen, Receive this dagger,

Who, to defend her consort's, had opposid
[Attempts to stab Angus, who wrests the Her own defenceless frame, expiring, pour'd
dagger from him and kills him. ] Her mingling blood in copious stream with his!
ANGUS.

ANGUS.
Ha, perfidious slave! Illustrious victims!- disast'rous fate!
What means this base attempt?--Thou shalt not | Unfeeling monsters! execrable fiends!
'scape.

To wanton thus in royal blood!

DUNBAR.

DUNBAR.

Immediate aid from thee-But I wax weak.

Our intant kiog, surrounded in the fort,
O thane!

Demands thy present help.
How shall I speak the sequel of my tale!

ANGUS.
How will thy fond parental heart be rent
With mortal anguish, when my tongue relates

Yes, loyal youth!
The fate of Eleonora !

Thy glorious wounds instruct me what I ove

To my young sov'reign, and my country's peace!
ANGUS.

But how shall I sustain the rav'nous tribe
Ha!--my fears

Of various griefs, that gnaw me all at once? Anticipate thy words!-say, Dunbar,

My royal master falls, my country groans,
How fares my child!

And cruel fate has ravish'd from my side
DUNBAR.

My dearest daughter and my best-lor'd friend!
The shades of endless night

DUNBAR. Now settle o'er her eyes!-heroic maid!

Thy praise shall be thy daughter; and thy friend She to th' assaulted threshold bravely ran, Survive unchang'd in ev'ry honest breast. And with her snowy arms supply'd a bolt

ANGUS. To bar their entrance:-But the barb'rous crew Broke in impetuous, crush'd her slender limb, Must we then part for ever I-What a plan When Grime, his dagger brandishing, exclaim'd, Of peaceful happiness my hope had laid “ Behold the sorc'ress whose accursed charms In thee and her!-alas! thou fadmg flower, Betray'd the youth; and whose invet'rate sire How fast thy sweets consume!-come to my armi, This day revers'd our fortune in the field!- That I may taste them ere they fleet away! This for revenge!"-ihen plung'd it in her breast!

[Embracing ber. O exquisite distress! ANGUS.

ELEONORA. Infernal homicide!

For me, my father,
For me let not the bootless tear distil.-
There-there I own Soon shall I be with those, who rest secure
He vanquish'd me indeed !-What though I rashid | From all th' inclemencies of stormy life.
Thro' many a wound, and in th'assassin's heart

ANGUS.
Imbru'd my faithful steel.-But sce, where comes,
By her attendants led, the bleeding fair!

Adieu, my children !-never shall I hear
Th
voice again!-a long farewell!

[Exit Argu. SCENE VII.

SCENE VIII. ANGUS, DUNBAR, ELEONORA wounded and supported.

DUNBAR, ELEONORA.

DUNBAR.
ELEONORA.

Soon shall our shorten'd race of life be run.
Mere set me down-vain is your kind concern.-

Our day already hastens to its close; Ah! who with parent tenderness will bless

And night eternal comes. Yet, tho' I touch My parting soul, and close my beamless eyes!

The land of peace, and backward view, Full Ab! who defend me, and with pious care

pleas'd, To the cold grave commit my pale remains!

The tossing wave from which I shall be free, (Swoons. No rest will greet me on the silent shore, If Eleonora sends me hence unbless'd.

ELEONORA. O misery!--look up-thy father calls

[Embracing her. Distemper'd passion, when we parted last,

Usurp'd my troubled bosom, and Dunbar
ELEONORA.

With borrour was beheld: but reason noir
What angel borrows that paternal voice!

With genial mildness beams upon my soul,
Ha! lives my father!-Ye propitious powers! And represents thee justly, as thou art-
He folds ine in his arms-Yes, he survives The tend'rest lover and the gentlest friend,
The havoc of this night!-O let me now

DUNBAR.
Yield up my fervent soul with raptur'd praise !
For Angus lives t avenge his murder'd prince, O transport, to my breast unknown before!
To save his country, and protract his blaze Not the soft breeze upon its fragrant wings
Of glory farther still!

Wafts such refreshing gladness to the heart
ANGUS.

Of panting pilgrims, as thy balmy words

To my exhausted spirits !-but, alas!

And is it thus, Thy purple stream of life forsakes apace The melting parent clasps his darling child !

Its precious channels!-on thy polish'd check My heart is torn with agonizing pangs

The blowing roses fade; and o'er thine eyes
Oi complicated woe!

Deatb sheds a misty languoc!
DUN BAR.

ELEONORA.
The public craves

Let me lean

ANGUS.

Upon thy friendly arm-Yet, o retire !

Courageous Ramsay; and thy name shall live That guilty arm--Say, did it ne'er rebel

For ever in the annals of renown.Against my peace?-But let me not revolve But see, where silent as the noon of night Those sorrows now.–Were Heav'n again to raise These lovers lie!-rest-rest, ill-fated pair! That once-lov'd head that lies, alas! so low! Your dear remembrance sball for ever dwell And from the verge of death my life recall, Within the breast of Angus; and his love What joy could visit my forlorn estate,

Oft with paternal tears bedew your tomb!
Sell-doom'd to hopeless woe!

RAMSAY.
DUN BAR,

O fatal scene of innocence destroy'd!
Must I then wander,
A pensive shade, along the dreary vale,

ANGUS, to Athol.
And groan for ever under thy reproach!

O bloody author of this night's mishap!
ELEONORA.

Whose impious bands are with the sacred blood

Of majesty distain'd!-Contemplate here Ah no, thou faithful youth! shall I repay

The havoc of thy crimes! and then bethink thee Thy love and virtue with ungrateful hate?

What vengeance craves.-
These wounds that waste so lavishly thy life,

ATHOL.
Were they not all receiv'd in my defence?
May no repose embrace me in the tomb,

With insolence of speech If my soul mourns not thy untimely fall

How dares thy tongue licentious, thus insult With sister-woe!--thy passion bas not reap'd Thy sov'reign, Angus?-Madly hath thy zeal The sweet returns its purity deserv'd.

Espous'd a sinking cause. But thou may'st still

Deserve my future favour,
DUNBAR.

ANGUS.
A while forbcar, pale minister of Fate,
Forbear a while; and on my ravish'd ear

O thou stain
Let the last music of this dying swan

Of fair nobility!-thou bane of faith! Steal in soft blanishment, divinely sweet!

Thou woman-killing coward, who bast crept Then strike th' unerring blow.

To the unguarded throne, and stabb'd thy prince!

What hath thy treason, blasted as it is,
ELEONORA.

To bribe the soul of Angus to thy views ?
That thus our hopes,
Which blossom'd num'rous as the flow'ry spring,

ATHOL
Are nipp'd untimely, ere the sun of joy

Soon shalt thou rue th' indignity now thrown Matured them into fruit, repine not, youth. On me thy lawful prince.-Yes, talking lord, Life hath its various seasons, as the year;

The day will soon appear, when I shall rise And after clust'ring autumn-but I faint- In majesty and terrour, to assert Support me nearer-in rich harvest's rear

My country's freedom; and at last, avenge Bleak winter must have lagg’d.-Oh! now I feel My own peculiar wrongs.-When thou and all The leaden hand of Death lie heavy on me.

Those grov'ling sycophants, who bow'd the knee Thine image swims before my straining eye.

To the usurper's arbitrary sway, --And now it disappears.-Speak-bid adieu

Will fawn on me.- - Ye temporizing slaves! To the lost Eleonora...Not a word !

Unchain your king; and teach your humble -Not one farewel !-Alas! that dismal groan

mouths Is eloquent distress -Celestial powers,

To kiss the dust beneath my royal feet.
Protect my father, show'r upou his
Oh!

[To the guard. (Dies.

ANGUS.
DUNBAR.

The day will soon appear!-Day shall not thrice
There Aed the purest soul that ever dwelt Return, before thy carcase be cast forth,
In mortal clay!- come, my love! I come Unbury'd, to the dogs and beasts of prey
Where now the rosy tincture of these lips ! Or, high-exalted, putrify in air,
The smile that grace ineffable diffus'd!

The monument of treason.-
The glance that smote the soul with silent wonder!

ATHOL.
The voice that sooth’d the anguish of disease,
And held attention captive!-Let me kiss

Empty threat!
This pale deserted temple of my joy!

Fate hath foretold that Athol shall be crown'd. This, Chastity, this, thy unspotted shade

ANGUS. Will not refuse.--I feel the grisly king

Then Hell hath cheated thee.-Thou shalt b. Thro' all my veins he shivers like the north O Eleonora ! as my fowing blood

An iron crown intensely hot shall gird (crown'dIs mix'd with thine-so may our mingling souls

Thy hoary temples; while the shouting crowd

Acclaims thee king of traitors. To bliss supernal wing our happy- -Oh!

[Dies.

ATHOL.

Lakes of fire!
SCENE the last.

Ha! said'st thou, lord !--a glowing iron crown ANGUS, RAMSAY. Ataol, &c. prisoners.

Shall gird my hoary temples!-Now I feel

Myself awake to miserv and shame!
ANGUS.

Ye sceptres, diadems, and rolling trains [dreams Bright deeds of glory hath thine arm achiev'd, Of flatt'ring pomp, .farewell !--Curse on those VOL. XV.

PP

Of idle superstition, that ensnare

SONG
Th' ambitious soul to wickedness and woe!

FROM THE REPRISAL.
Curse on thy virtue, which hath overthrown
My elevated hopes! and may despair

Ye swains of the Shannon, fair Sheelah is goue, Descend in pestilence on all mankind!

Ye swains of the Shannon, fair Sheelah is gone,

Ochone my dear jewel;
ANGUS,

Why was you so cruel
Thy curse just Heav'n retorts upon thyself!

Amidst my companions to leave me alone? To separate dungeons lead the regicides.

Tho' Teague shut the casement in Bally-congh [Exit guard with the prisoners, hall;

(hall; From thirst of rule what dire disasters flow!

Tho' Teague shut the casement in Bally-clough How flames that guilt ambition taught to glow!

In the dark she was groping, Wish gains on wish, desire surmounts desire!

And found it wide open; Hope fans the blaze, and envy feeds the fire: Och! the devil himself could not stand such a fall. From crime to crime aspires the madd’ning soul! Nor laws, nor oaths, nor fears its rage control; In beholding your charms, I can see them no more, 'Till Heav'n at length awakes, supremely just, In beholding your charms, I can see them no mure, And levels all its tow'ring schemes in dust!

If you're dead do but own it;

Then you'll hear me bemoan it;
For in loud lamentations your fate P'll deplore.

Devil curse this occasion with tumults and strife!
PROLOGUE TO THE REPRISAL,

Devil curse this occasion with tumults and strife!

0! the month of November,

She'll have cause to remember,
SPOKEN BY MR. HAVARD.

As a black letter day all the days of her life.
An ancient sage, when Death approach'd his bed,
Consign'd to Pluto his devoted head;

With a rope I could catch the dear creature I're And, that no fiend might hiss, or prove uncivil,

lost!

[lost! With vows and pray’rs, he fairly brib'd the devil: With a rope I could catch the dear creature I've Yet neither vows nor pray’rs, por rich oblation,

But, without a dismission, Cou'd always save the sinner—from damnation.

I'd lose my commission, Thus authors, tott ring on the brink of fate,

And be hang'd with disgrace for deserting my post The critic's rage with prologues deprecate; Yet of the trembling bard implores in vain, The wit profess'd turns out a dunce in grain: No plea can then avert the dreadful sentence,

SONG FROM THE SAME. He must be damn'd-in spite of all repentance. Here Justice seems from her straightline to vary, I will freely describe the wretch I despise, (guise,

FROM the man whom I love, tho' my heart I dis No guilt attends a fact involuntary ; This maxim the whole cruel charge destroys,

And if he has sense but to balance a straw, No poet sure was ever dull by choice..

He will sure take the hint from the picture 1 drar. So pleads our culprit in his own defence, A wit without sense, without faucy a beau, You cannot prove his dullness is--prepense. Like a parrot be chatters, and struts like a cros; He means to please he owns no other view,

A peacock in pride, in grimace a baboon,
And now presents you with-a sea ragout.

In courage a hind, in conceit a gascoon.
A dish-howe'er you relish his endeavours,
Replete with a variety of favours.

As a vulture rapacious, in falsehood a fox,
A stout Hibernian, and ferocious Scot,

Inconstant as waves, and unfeeling as rocks; Together boil in our enchanted pot;

As a tiger ferocious, perverse as a hog,
To taint these viands with the true fumet,

In mischief an ape, and in fawning a dog.
He shreds a musty, vain, French-martinet.
This stale ingredient might our porridge mar

In a word, to sum up all his talents together, Without some acid juice of English tar.

His heart is of lead, and his brain is of feather:
To rouse the appetite the drum shall rattle, Yet, if he has sense but to balance a stras,
And the dessert sbal be a bloodless battle. He will sure take the hint from the picture I draw.

What heart will fail to glow, what eye to brighten,
When Britain's wrath arous'd begins to lighten!
Her thunders roiler fearless sons advance,
And her red ensigns wave o'er the pale flow'rs of

SONG FROM THE SANE.
France.

LET the nymph still avoid, and be deaf to the swain
Such game our fathers play'd in days of yore, Who in transports of passion affects to complain;
When Edward's banners fann'd the Gallic shore; For bis rage, not his love, in that frenzy is shots;
When Howard's arın Eliza's vengeance hurid, And the blast that blows loudest is soun o'erblorn.
And Drake diffus'd her fame around the world:
Sill shall that god-like fame your bosoms fire, But the shepherd whom Cupid has piered to the
The gen’sous son shall einulate the sire;

heart Her ancient splendour England shall maintain, Will submissive adore, and rejoice in the smart; D'er distant realms extend her genial reign, Or in plaintive soft murmurs, his bosom-felt soe And lisa--th' unrivald empress of the main Like the smooth gliding current of rivers will tior,

Tho'silont his tongue, he will plead with his eyes, Ye wits above, restrain your awful thunder : And his heart own your sway in a tribute of sighs; In his first cruise, 'twere pity he should founder, But, when he accosts you in meadow or grove,

[To the gal. His tale is all tenderness, rapture, and love. Safe from your shot he fears no other foe,

Nor gulph, but that which horrid yawns below,

1 To the pit. The bravest chiefs, ev'n Hannibal and Cato, SONG FROM THE SAME.

Have here been tam'd with-pippin and potatoe. Behold! my brave Britons, the fair springing Our bard embarks in a more Christian cause,

Fill a bumper and toss off your glasses: (gale, He craves not mercy; but he claims applause.

Buss and part with your frolicksome lasses; His pen against the hostile French is drawn, Then aboard and unfurl the wide flowing sail. Who damns him is no Antigallican. CHORUS.

Indulg'd with fav’ring gales and smiling skies, While British oak beneath us rolls,

Hereafter he may board a richer prize.

But if this welkin angry clouds deform,
And English courage fires our souls;

(Looking round the house. To crown our toils, the Fates decree

And hollow groans portend the approaching storm: The wealth and empire of tte sea.

Should the descending show'rs of hail redouble, ur canvas and cares to the winds we display,

[To the gal. Life and fortune we cheerfully venture;

And these rough billows hiss, and boil, and bubble, And we langh, and we quaff, and we banter;

(To the pit. Nor think of to morrow while sure of to day.

He'll lanch no more on such fell seas of trouble.
CHORUS
While British oak, &c.

ADVICE AND REPROOF:
The streamers of France at a distance appear!
We must mind other music than catches;

TWO SATIRES.
Man our quarters, and handle our matches; First published in the year 1746 and 1747.
Our cannon produce, and for battle prepare.

Sed podice levi CHORUS.

Cæduntur tumidæ medico ridente Mariscæ. While British oak, &c.

O Proceres ! censore opus est an baruspice nobis ? Engender'd in smoke and deliver'd in flame,

JUVENAL. British vengeance rolls loud as the thunder!

nam quis Let the vault of the sky burst asunder,

Peccandi finem posuit sibi ? quando recepit So victory follows with riches and fame.

Ejectum semel attritâ de fronte ruborem ?

Ibid,
CHORUS.
While British oak beneath us rolls,
And English courage fires our souls;

ADVICE: A SATIRE,
'To crown our toils, the Fates decree
The wealth and empire of the sea.

POET, FRIEND.

POET.

ENOUGH, enough; all this we knew before;
EPILOGUE TO THE REPRISAL. 'Tis infamous, I grant it, to be poor:

And who so much to sense and glory lost,
SPOKEN BY MISS MACKLIN.

Will hug the curse that not one joy can boast!

From the pale hag, O! could I once break loose; AYEænow I can with pleasure look around, Divorc'd, all Hell shall not re-tie the noose ! Safe as I am, thank Heaven, on English ground Not with more care shall H avoid his wife, In a dark dungeon to be stow'd away,

Not Cope fly swifter!, lashing for his life;
Midst roaring, thund'ring, danger and dismay; Than I to leave the meagre fiend behind,
Expos'd to fire and water, sword and bullet

FRIEND
Might damp the heart of any virgin pullet-
I dread to think what might have come to pass, Exert your talents; Nature, ever kind,
Had not the British lion quell'd the Gallic ass Enough for happiness, bestows on all;
By Champignon a wretched victim led

'Tis sloth or pride that finds her gifts too small To cloister'd cell, or more detested bed,

Why sleeps the Muse? is there no room for praise, My days in pray'r and fasting 1 had spent: When such bright names in constellation blaze? As nun or wife, alike a penitent.

When sage Newcastle *, abstinently great,
His gallantry, so confident and eager,

Neglects his food to cater for the state;
Had prov'd a mess of delicate soupe-maigre:
To bootless longings I had fallen a martyr:

' A general famous for an expeditious retreat, But Heav'n be prais'd, the Frenchman caught a though not quite so deliberate as that of the ten tartar.

thousand Greeks from Persia; having unfortus Yet soft-our author's fate you must decree: nately forgot to bring his army along with him. Shall he come safe to port or sink at sea ?

• A:Juding to the philosophical conteinpt which Your sentence, sweet or bitter, soft or sore, this great personage manifested for the sensual Floats bis frail bark, or runs it bump ashore. delights of the stomach.

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