Let me gaze while in life on that beautiful form, May thine image impress'd always watch o'er my breast,. As its guardian angel, to hush each rude storm, Should with any base passion my mind be oppress'd, Though my rivals indulge in the full flowing bowl, And inspires me, like nectar, with pleasures sublime. When confessing, thou say'st, "Take my hand, it thine." Far and near the Ambassador's name shall resound, In thine arms-heav'n on earth, and he asks for no more. 'Mid the music or dance, come in whispers, and say, "Thou hast melted my heart with the fire of thy muse;" But divulge not the secret, lest rivals betray The fond flame prematurely, and frustrate our views. When thy bard in warm strains shall bis gratitude show, And enamour'd, with love-songs on thee, touch the lyre Ev'ry verse with the bloom of thy beauty shall glow, Till my girl prove the tuast for mankind to admire. LINES TO A LADY, WHO WISHED THE AUTHOR A GOOD NIGHT, EAR Nancy, why WISH me good night ?-As I live, It is needless to wWISH what you know you could GIVE, THE In obliging compliance with our request, Mr. MOSER has, for the third time, favoured this publication with an original dramatic piece. Its allusions to the exertions of our brave allies, the Spaniards, in their present arduous struggle for the preservation of all that is dear to man individually, or to society collectively, must be pleasing to the mind of every loyal reader. The characters of Quixote and Sancho are well supported, and the lyric parts have particular merit; yet the whole, we know, was written on the spur of the occasion, and almost at one sitting. Indeed, the facility of this gentleman's 'pen has often astonished his friends; and if he could condescend to employ a little deliberate attention on dramatic subjects, he would bid fair to redeem the fallen character of the BRITISH STAGE. VOL. XII. ACT ACT I. SCENE I.-A Hall in the House of Don Antonio, ESCAP'D with my cloak, From the hands of friend Roque, With whom I'd no passion to grapple ; I'll own I am glad, That those squires of the pad Return'd all the chattels of Dapple. My master, I warrant, Would have left them small reason to boast; He'd have made them all dance, Till he'd drubb'd ev'ry knight of the post. However, it is better as it is. Well, for a thief, Captain Roque is certainly one of the honestest fellows I ever met with in my life. His men had just found the ducal crowns that the Duchess gave me, which I had concealed in my girdle. Robbers have always had a passion for crowns, but he called them off. He may come to be an Emperor, for aught I know ;—yet, if it were to rain Spanish and Portuguese CROWNS, I do not think one of them would fit a single knave of his party. Enter PEDRO. Who are you talking of, Sancho? I could only catch your last words. Sancho. I hope you'll never catch my last words : had you caught their subject, you would have had a proverb in your favour. Pedro. I do not understand you. Sancho. Set a thief to catch a thief. Pedro. Still I am lost. Sancho. I hope you are worth finding: but what did you want with me è 1 Pedro. Pedro. shall not yet say a word about your master, Don Quixote. Sancho. Right-a close tongue makes a wise head. Your mouth you must brace, While you keep in your place. Pedro. True:-but still I must observe, for a knight, your master Don Quixote is the strangestSancho. Why? You were not to speak of him, I thought. Pedro. Why! he has challenged all the enemies of Spain to meet him on the beach of Barcelona, where he means to appear, armed cap-a-pee. Sancho. For what? Pedro. To defend his country. Sancho. There is nothing strange in that; every Spaniard is at this moment of the same opinion. Pedro. Oh! then you mean to use your arms as well as your master. Sancho. I cannot use my arms so well, friend Pedro, but I can use my legs a great deal better. Every man to his calling: two of a trade can never agree; therefore, while he attacks the enemy as a knight, I shall show my dexterity as a squire. He is a cavalier, I am a foot-man. Pedro. But will you leave your honour in the field? Sancho. Certainly! I would leave every thing I could spare, to assist my master. I shall take Prudence with me: She, every one knows, Dislikes quarrels and blows. Pedro. But how will this agree with your duty ?-I am directed to order you to attend the valiant Don Quixote in the field. Sancho. How? Pedro. Why, upon Dapple, to be sure. F 2 Sancho. Sancho. Oh Lord! he's of as peaceable a disposition as I am. (Sings.) A man may be made for contention and strife, That is, me and my master. Pedro. Well, you may send your ass first, if you please; but Don Quixote insists upon your attend ance. Sancho. Attendance and dependance are the curse of poverty. However, I will wait on him; but as to Dapple, he's but an awkward machine to go to war upon; he'll never understand me in a field of battle. -Indeed, none but an ass would endeavour to comprehend those things, if he could help it. Pedro. But the cause! Sancho. I'll grant, is every thing. It has inspired even me with courage; and although I think my little person is, on any other occasion, too good to be exposed to our savage enemies, yet on this I will fol low my master. Pedro. Upon Dapple? Sancho. No! I hold that a man should first endeavour to shelter himself; but if danger is to him unavoidable, the next best thing that he can do is to shelter an old and faithful servant. : [Exeunt SANCHO and PEDRO. SCENE II.-An Apartment in Don Antonio's House. Enter Don ANTONIO and Don DIEGO, Don Diego. But of what use can the profession of knight-errantry be in the world? Don Antonio. I am not aware that in the mode in which |