Capt. A.-Indeed, sir. I never was in a worse humor for mirth in my life.

Sir A.-'Tis false, sir; I know you are laughing in your sleeve; I know you'll grin when I am gone, sirrah! Capt. A.-Sir, I hope I know my duty better.

Sir A.-None of your passion, sir! none of your violence, if you please-it won't do with me, I promise you. Capt. A.-Indeed, sir, I never was cooler in my life. Sir A.-'Tis a confounded lie!-I know you are in a passion in your heart; I know you are, you hypocritical young dog-but it won't do.

Capt. A.-Nay, sir, upon my word

Sir A.-So, you will fly out! Can't you be cool, like me?—What good can passion do?-Passion is of no service, you impudent, insolent, overbearing reprobate !— There, you sueer again!-don't provoke me! but you rely upon the mildness of my temper-you do, you dog! you play upon the meekness of my disposition! Yet take care the patience of a saint may be overcome at last!—But mark!-I give you six hours and a half to consider of this: if you then agree, without any condi tion, to do everything on earth that I choose, why-confound you, I may in time forgive you-If not, zounds! don't enter the same hemisphere with me! don't dare to breathe the same air, or use the same light with me, but get an atmosphere and a sun of your own! I'll strip you of your commission; I'll lodge a five-and-threepence in the hands of trustees, and you shall live on the interest. I'll disown you, I'll disinherit you, I'll unget you! and hang you if ever I call you Jack again! [Exit.] Capt. A.-Mild, gentle, considerate father! I kiss your hands.-SHERIDAN.

MARY STUART,

From SCHILLER. Act III., Scene II.

MARY-Queen of Scotland.

CHARACTERS.

ELIZABETH-Queen of England.

MARY

ROBERT-Earl of Leicester.
TALBOT-A friend of Mary.

Enter MARY and TALBOT.

I can

-Talbot, Elizabeth will soon be here. not see her. Preserve me from this hatefui in

terview.

Talbot-Reflect a while. Recall thy courage. The moment is come upon which everything depends. Incline thyself; submit to the necessity of the moment. She is the stronger. Thou must bend before her.

Mary-Before her? I cannot!

Tal.-Thou must do so. Speak to her humbly; in voke the greatness of her generous heart; dwell not too much upon thy rights. But see first how she bears her self towards thee. I myself did witness her emotion on reading thy letter. The tears stood in her eyes. Her heart, 't is sure, is not a stranger to compassion; therefore place more confidence in her, and prepare thyself for her reception.

Mary-(Taking his hand)-Thou wert ever my faithful friend. Oh, that I had always remained beneath thy kind guardianship, Talbot! Their care of me has indeed been harsh. Who attends her?

Tal.-Leicester. You need not fear him; the earl doth not seek thy fall. Behold, the queen approaches. [Retires.]

Enter ELIZABETH and LEICESTER. Mary-Aside)-O heavens! Protect me! her features

say she has no heart!

Elizabeth (To LEICESTER)-Who is this woman? (Feigning surprise.) Robert, who has dared to

Lei.-Be not angry, queen, and since heaven has hither directed thee, suffer pity to triumph in thy noble heart.

Tal.-(Advancing)—Deign, royal lady, to cast a look of compassion on the unhappy woman who prostrates herself at thy feet.

[MARY, having attempted to approach ELIZABETH, stops short, overcome by repugnance, her gestures indicating internal struggle.]

Eliz.-(Haughtily)-Sirs, which of you spoke of humility and submission? I see nothing but a proud lady, whom misfortune has not succeeded in subduing.

Mary-(Aside)-I will undergo even this last degree of ignominy. My soul discards its noble but, alas! impotent pride. I will seek to forget who I am, what I have suffered, and will humble myself before her who has caused my disgrace. (Turns to ELIZABETH.) Heaven, O sister, has declared itself on thy side, and has graced thy happy head with the crown of victory. (Kneeling.) I worship the Deity who hath rendered thee so powerful. Show thyself noble in thy triumph, and leave me not overwhelmed by shame! Open thy arms, extend in mercy to me thy royal hand, and raise me from my fearful fall.

Eliz.-(Drawing back)-Thy place, Stuart, is there, and I shall ever raise my hands in gratitude to heaven that it has not willed that I should kneel at thy feet, as thou now crouchest in the dust at mine.

Mary-(With great emotion)—Think of the vicissitudes of all things human! There is a Deity above who punisheth pride. Respect the Providence who now doth

prostrate me at thy feet. Do not show thyself insensible and pitiless as the rock, to which the drowning man, with failing breath and outstretched arms, doth cling. My life, my entire destiny, depend upon my words and the power of my tears. Inspire my heart, teach me to move, to touch thine own. Thou turnest such icy looks upon me, that my soul doth sink within me, my grief parches my lips, and a cold shudder renders my entreaties [Rises.]

mute.

Eliz.-(Coldly)—What wouldst thou say to me? thou didst seek converse with me. Forgetting that I am an outraged sovereign, I honor thee with my royal presence. 'Tis in obedience to a generous impulse that I incur the reproach of having sacrificed my dignity.

Mary-How can I express myself? how shall I so choose every word that it may penetrate, without irritating, thy heart? God of mercy! aid my lips, and banish from them whatever may offend my sister! I cannot relate to thee my woes without appearing to accuse thee, and this is not my wish. Towards me thou hast been neither merciful nor just. I am thine equal, and yet thou hast made me a prisoner, a suppliant, and a fugitive. I turned to thee for aid, and thou, trampling on the rights of nations and of hospitality, hast immured me in a living tomb! Thou hast abandoned me to the most shameful need, and finally exposed me to the ignominy of a trial! But, no more of the past; we are now face to face. Display the goodness of thy heart; tell me the crimes of which I am accused! Wherefore didst thou not grant me this friendly audience when I so eagerly desired it? Years of misery would have been spared me, and this painful interview would not have occurred in this abode of gloom and horror.

Eliz-Accuse not fate, but thine own wayward soul

and the unreasonable ambition of thy house. There was no quarrel between us until thy most worthy ally inspired thee with the mad and rash desire to claim for thyself the royal titles and my throne! Not satisfied with this, he then urged thee to make war against me, to threaten my crown and my life. Amidst the peace which reigned in my dominions, he fraudulently excited my subjects to revolt. But heaven doth protect me, and the attempt was abandoned in despair. The blow was aimed at my head, but 't is on thine that it will fall.

Mary-I am in the hand of my God, but thou wilt not exceed thy power by committing a deed so atrocious?

Eliz.-What could prevent me? Thy kinsman has shown monarchs how to make peace with their enemies! Who would be surety for thee if, imprudently, I were to release thee? How can I rely on thy pledged faith? Nought but my power renders me secure. No! there can be no friendship with a race of vipers.

Mary-Are these thy dark suspicions? To thine eyes, then, I have ever seemed a stranger and an enemy. If thou hadst but recognized me as heiress to thy throneas is my lawful right-love, friendship, would have made me thy friend-thy sister.

Eliz.-What affection hast thou that is not feigned? I declare thee heiress to my throne! Insidious treachery! In order, forsooth, to overturn the state, and-wily Armida that thou art entrap within thy snares all the youthful spirits of my kingdom, so that during my own lifetime all eyes would turn towards thee the new constellation!

Mary-Reign on in peace! I renounce all right to thy sceptre. The wings of my ambition have long drooped, and greatness has no longer charms for me. 'Tis thou who hast it all; I am now only the shade of Mary