Louisa Courl. (with faintness) Indeed!

Fred. Worl. May Heaven's immortal truth Bear witness that I would!

Louisa Courl. (in a feeble but resentful tone) Then I

am lost

For ever! (staggers with faintness to a chair).
Fred. Worl. Lost! To whom?

Louisa Courl. To happiness

And you!

Fred. Worl. (offering to take her hand, which she draws from him) Indeed, Louisa, you distress me! What have I done? What angers you? You shrink At my approach-you never did before?

Louisa Courl. For until now I've thought your words sincere

They've been illusive all !

Fred. Worl. (after a pause) Illusive all!

Louisa Courl. Frederic.

Fred. Worl. My soul, my life, do you still call me Frederic?

Louisa Courl. Will you relieve my father?

Fred. Worl. (aside) Ah!.

In violation of a sacred trust!

-I will,

To her reproach what is a perjur'd soul?

A perjur'd soul!-But no, I dare not think! (feels in his pocket, and misses his pocket-book). Pernicious fate, 'tis lost!and so am I!

Enter LOOBIN.

Loobin. Well, Mr. Frederic(aside) Poor man!

he seems

Sunk to despondence.-
Fred. Worl. Loobin!

Mr. Frederic.

Loobin. (giving him the pocket-book.) This, I believe,

belongs to you.

[exit Louisa unperceived

Fred. Worl. It does, it does! My friend, you have

restor❜d me

My only hope, my sole dependence. Shall I,

Can I reward you?

Loobin. (loooking in his face) There is my reward, sir, I see it sparkling there—I ask none else. Fred. Worl. But, Loobin- -he has gone.

my Louisa,

(opens his pocket-book) Ah! what is here?

[exit

Now,

(reads) "Remember this is a sacred trust, and never, unless at the approach of death, to be parted with to any but my daughter."

Memento of the trust

Mistakingly confided to a man

Who on his death-bed only knew repentance.-
Sad shade, if thou in thy last mortal hour
Didst solemnly transfer the charge to me,
The hand of Heaven, to preserve my soul,
Has drawn this paper forth- -for I have not!

It was secreted here (searching a small pocket formed
in the lining of his coat) and here-amazement!
Here it still is-
-(comparing the two) I know them

not apart!

Yet, this was dated sixteen years ago,

And this-to-day !—Louisa-(looking round) Ha!—
Oh, no,

She would not trifle with my feelings thus!
Besides, she could not; for an oath here seal'd
My lips, and stood the warmth of love.

Re-enter LOUISA COURLAND.

(taking her hand) Louisa,

How could you leave me as you did?

Louisa Courl. (withdrawing her hand) That I

Might gather strength to ask a final question.

Fred. Worl. What angry pest has lighted on our peace?

Louisa Courl. Can you relieve my parent?
Fred. Worl. Yes, I can,

I'll soothe the rigid temper of this Ambert.

Louisa Courl. (indignantly) And is that all?

Fred. Worl. Can I do more?

Louisa Courl. What! can you not?

Fred. Worl. Great Heaven knows I cannot !
Louisa Courl. What prevents?

Fred. Worl. The hope I cherish to be sav'd hereafter.
Louisa Courl. Alas! I tremble for your future state!
Fred. Worl. Louisa!

Louisa Courl. Frederic, we must part!

Fred. Worl. Part?

Louisa Courl. Yes, and

For ever!

Fred. Worl. Say not so; and I will save Your father!

Louisa Courl. Ah! (with indignant surprise) Indeed? Fred. Worl. Be mine again!

I will restore him! on my soul I will!

Louisa Courl. Restore him to me, and you have my thanks;

But

[exit

-(aside) Spirit of virtue aid my faltering tongue! Love is extinguish'd; and we meet no more! Fred. Worl. Yet stay, a moment stay-Who has

done this?

[exit

ACT V.

SCENE I.-An apartmentin MR. COURLAND's house. Enter INFERENCE and MOONSHINE, leaning on the arms of MR. COURLAND.

Moonshine. And, most indubitably, Mr. Courland, Ere our return had we not condescended

To grace a paltry farmer's wretched board,
Consume five loaves of his unleaven'd bread,
As many cakes of what he call'd cream-cheese,
And almost half a firkin of d-mn'd butter
(All which the fellow had the effrontery
To proffer us for naught)-if, as I said—

Inference. I ask your pardon, general Magnavantine: For an exact construction of this sentence

You should observe precision.

Moonshine. (off his guard) Sir?
Inference. Be cool:

Conjunction if must, thus recurring, form
Anadiplosis or reduplication,

'Which is when 'tis-a fine rhetoric figure;
But it doth seem that your parenthesis,
"All which" and so forth ought to be omitted,
Because the omission must improve the style,
And leave no flaw-like injury in the sense.

Moonshine. (apart to Inference) You are a lumberheaded jackanapes!

(to Mr. Courland) Excuse my friend the honourable Scholium :

He is a slave to physiology.

Inference. Philology, philology, you mean, Good general Magnavantine.

Moonshine. (whispering Mr. Courland) And more

over

A knavish puppy.

Mr. Courl. (loudly) How, a knavish puppy!
The general, Mr. Scholium, calls you puppy.
(aside) Scoundrels, I hope they'll shoot each other!-
Yes,

He calls you puppy, and presumes to assert

Moonshine. (apart to Courland) Hush, sir, I pray you'twas in confidence,

Mr. Courl. Why, Mr. Scholium, can you bear an insult?

Inference. Sir, did you speak to me?- -I was observing

The neatness of that cornice

-prettily,

Prettily moulded-prettily in truth!

Who, Mr. Courland, was your architect?

Mr. Courl. Excuse me, sir-the general charges you

With being a rank knaye,

Inference. Grave? Why I am

At times a little grave-that is the truth.

Mr. Courl. He says you are a knave, sir.

Inference. Oh no, it can't be true-can it be, general?

Moonshine. True? what, my worthy sir?-Oh ho, ah ha,

I have bethought myself: you mean the late,

The strange adventure we have to recount.

(to Mr. Courl.) I'll tell it you: while we were at the

mansion

Of the good gentleman upon the hill

Mr. Courl. Ambert, that paper-meddling hell-hound?

Ha!

Moonshine. The self-same rascal

house, sir,

Upon a slab we saw a pocket-book :

while at his

It was of snow-white satin- -(to Inference) Am I right, pray?

Inference. Permit me-no: the colour was jet-black. Moonshine. Ten thousand dollars were its vast contents,

A sacred trust

Inference. Which from a written scrap Of paper we inferr'd.

Moonshine. A sacred trust,

And held, yes held, in charge for the sole daughter
Of one-one-

Inference. Mervin.

Mr. Courl. Ah! Have you the pocket-book In your possession still ?

Moonshine. Oh, no.

Mr. Courl. No!

Moonshine. No, sir.

Inference. For we return'd it to the owner, and-
Mr. Courl. Damnation, who was he?

Moonshine. A Mr. Frederic Worlace.

Inference. We conclude

From having seen his name upon the cover.