Alexis; or, the Cottage in the Woods. crime have I committed? O my father! I do not know-they are not voluntary, if they exist. They are furely the work of fate. I am the caufe of thy misfortunes. Alas! could'st thou but know the heart of thy fon yes, thy poor Alexis, he would fain offer up his life to preferve thine. How did't thou love and cherish him! How often did't thou prefs him to thy paternal breaft? How often did thy tears fhower upon him, tears whofe fource was latent and unknown to him. It was in those delicious moments thou called'ft him thy fon; thy little Alexis. "Dear child," thou would'ft fay, "no, thou shalt never leave me ; thou shalt know thy father, know his misfortunes, and administer him comfort." Yet I am banished and curled by thee. Have I deferved it? Mut I fee thee no more? No more thy arms will open to receive me; thy mouth will fmile no more; thy eyes no more meet with mine. 1 am curfed by a father, and left alone to myfelt in nature. And you, Dumont, you my worthy friend, you too have abandoned and betrayed Alexis: you have deceived me Ah! it was well to tell me there was neither friendship nor probity on earth. All men are falle, wicked, unjust the ftrongest opprefs the weakest, who must look for no fupport. Well, I will fly from mankind-I deteft and abhor it. O could beaven lead me to fome forest, where I may linger out this wretched existence. The wild beasts that inhabit it, are lefs dangerous than the perfidious ferpents which lurk in fociety. Yes, I. yield to this mifanthropy it pleafes me, I fhall fway my heart for ever with fovereign control. This city, which na ture erected in the form of an amphitheatre, does alfo inclofe men. Paffions, cares, devouring ambition, Romans. VOL. XXII. 145 all these fcourges are tenants there, Now is the time when the rich shuts himself up in his clofet, covetous nels follows him, fhe opens his cotfers, she spreads before him the treafures, which the made him ama(s, and points out fresh means of incitasing them. Leaving him, this cunning foe pafles by the beggar's hut, fhews him for a moment her fplendor, and then takes flight, with an infulting fncer, at the infatiable thirst of the former, and the vain cravings of the latter. Delivered from her importunities, the lot of a man is not in the leaft more enviables perfidious luft, gloomy jealoufy, come to interrupt and ditturb his eafe. Day-light, after all, recalls him to the work, which he follows till night return again to give him up to the fame enemies; and thus he fultains, within the short space of twenty-four.. hours, all the paffions with which he is obliged to, ftruggle for life. What do I fee in the world? How vain, foolish, and ridiculous it ap pears! Should I live in it? No, I' pafs my days in a retreat feparated from all other mortals; there will I bewail my difaftrous fate; there will I invoke the fupreme Being, and prayers may perhaps reftore the calm of my foul; there folitudė at least will have nothing to inter rupt it, but, the remembrance of a father's curfe, and a friend's trea chery. Thus fpoke Alexis.-Left to him. felf at fifteen, brought up by a man who faw every thing in a dark light, banished and curfed by a father he had fcarcely known, and whofe very name he had never heard; his ideas became gloomy, his mind exalted, and his foul a prey to grief. Little was he acquainted with men, and fhunned and detefted them as monfters! His foul was never made to be conquered by that black milanthropy, the only result of education and misfortunes. Son fhall we fee him acquire ideas more found, more worthy U Mac D. Why fo? Man alive Have you a mind to be murdered Mr. Dor. Fear nothing. [Knoc worthy of a true philofopher-We • No fooner had Alexis finished his Mac D. [With increafing terror By the holy phial but there he is ?Why, will you begone now? Mr. Dor. No-I will not. Mac D. Marcy upon my fout !For the Lord's fake, fir,-Why, fir I tell you he'll have your blood And won't you begone now? Mr. Dor. No, fir. Mac D. Lord Jafus! What will I do? If he comes into this room, here will be murder! Mr. Dor. Go-Tell him I am waiting for him. Mac D. Me tell him—I warn you to be gone! Remember, I wash my hands of your blood.Make off!-Make off, I tell you, while I go and keep him to his own apartment! [Exit. Mr. Dor. [To a footman croffing] Hark you, young man! Tell the count, your'mafter, that the ftranger, who wrote the anonymous letter to him, is here, waiting for an answer. Foot. Yes, fir. [Exit. Mr. Dor. The fears of the fervant ftrongly fpeak the anger of the mafter. But that was what I partly feared, and partly wished. Count. [Enraged without] Where is the rafh, the audacious, [Enter Count] the infolent wretch, whe [Afide] My father! Mr. Dor. I fcarcely could have expected fo kind a welcome, fir! "Tis exemplary! Count. Paffion, fir, is fometimes guilty of improprieties-Pray pardon me ! [Enter Mac Dermot, behind, in tre pidation.] Count. I imagined-[Seeing Mac Dermot] How now, fir! Begoné! Mr. Dor. Why fo? Let him ftay! Count. Begone, or!- The School for Arrogance, a new Comedy. Count. And do you hear-I am not at home. Mac D. Afide, and going] Oh Lord! Oh Lord! Here will be murder. [Exit. Mr. Dor. What should that mean, fir? Count, Sir!-There are reafonsI ought not to expofe my father's fafety. Mr. Dor. Rather own, you ought not to blush at your father's poverty. Is this my reception? This the warm welcome of a duteous fon? Count. 'Tis fo fudden-Yet my beart feels an affection 147 Mr. Dor. Yes; pride, kneeling, ! conjures a father in poverty to fuffer himself to be difclaimed, Your, mother's pride was my houfe's downfall: this he has bequeathed to you. Count. Sir-farts up at bearing] Sir Paul. [Without] I tell you, I, know he is at home! Mac D, [Without] Upon my soul, fir Paul Sir Paul. Zounds! Why I fawr him from my own window! Count. Alarmed] Here is fir. Paul! You know not, tir, how much is at stake. I have not time. to tell you now; but let my intreaties Mr. Dor. Which is ftifled by your vanity! Your father is contemned, because he is unfortunate. ·Mr, Dar. Ob! how humble are Count. No, fir. I do not merit a the proud! But remember I conreproach to cruel. Contemp my fent only on condition that you ré, father! You know me not.-Tell train your arrogance. If, while I me, which way can I prove my re-am prefent, any fymptom-[ Retiring : spect and love? back.1 Mr. Dor. By openly acknowledging me; not by concealment ; not by difavowing me in the day of my diftrefs. Count, Think, fir, of your own fafety. Mr. Der. What danger is there with people of honour? Frefent me to the family of fir Paul. Count. Impoffible, fir! Mr. Dor, Sternly Impoffible! Count. Let me conjure you not to be too precipitate. You know not the vulgar pomp of new-made gentry; whofe fuffocating pride treats indigent merit, nay, birth itfelf, with the most imperious difdain, Mr. Dor. Talk not of their pride, but of your own. You complain of others haughtiness? You in whom the vice is fo intolerable, that you willingly would difown your father! Count. Sir, you wrong me. Mr. Dor. But determined to be known for what I am, fince you refufe, Ll introduce myself. Count. For heaven's fake, fir! I intreat! I fupplicate! On my knees, Iconjure you to forbear! Enter Sir Paul, Sir Paul. 'Sblood! I knew you were at home! But to inftruct fervants how to lie, with the moft cool,; compofed, and barefaced impudence, is une branch of modern education. Count. I am forry, fir Paul Sir Paul. Pfhaw! Damn apologies. I have good news for you. Count. Sir! Sir Paul. I do believe, (God forgive me) that my wife is growing reafonable. Count. Does the confent? Sir Paul. Yes-To permit you to afk her pardon. Count. Sir! Afk pardon? Mr. Dor. [Advancing] Yes, fir; afk pardon. Sir Paul. Hem!- Afide] Zounds! Again!Why, what the plague can Count. Afide Does he know | ftrange fellow! [Aloud] Is it r your duty, count, to ferve you self? him? Sir Paul. Afide, and then to the Count Odd enough!-Who is this queer old fellow?" "Count."[ide All is fafe![Aloud] Sir, the-the-gentleman [Afide] What' fhall I fay? To fir Paul A gentleman, fir. who Sir Paul. A gentleman! Count. Yes That is : Sir Paul. What, fome poor relation, I fuppofe p Count. Yes, fir, a relation-The -the family eftates have been under his management, Sir Paul. Oh! Your fleward ? Count. No-Not abfolutely my my fleward Sir Paul. What, your land-bailiff, then ? Count. No, fir-No-That is Sir Paul Does not seem to have made his fortune by his office! A little weather beaten. Count. He is a man of the ftricteft probity, fir. Sir Paul. Nay, his appearance is the pledge of his honefty. Mr. Dor. And would you co tend about a word? Sir Paul. Very true, fir!- Yo feem a-a plain spoken-a-Hem Mr. Dor. [Significantly) Yes! think it my duty to tell vice folly the truth. Sir Paul. Hem!-You hea Mr. Dor. And fir!I repeat do your duty, fir. Sir Paul. Afide) The most unac countable! Hem! Count. [Afide] I am on the rack He will betray himself, Sir Paul. To the count] The old gentleman does not mince matters! Count. [Afide to his father] You will ruin me. Mr. Dor. Do as he requires, or I will feign no longer. Sir Paul. Lady Peckham is exMr. Dor. [Afide] I can perceive pecting you. Come, come; try he is practising deceit! Oh vanity! whether you cannot put on a winBut I will refrain my anger. Thening fubmiffive air. moment of open punishment is not yet come. Count, [Creffing to bis father] Let me request you, fir, not to reveal yourself. Count. [Alde] I fhall bur! Mr. Dor. Submiffive, fir!-Remember! Count. Thall not forget, fir! Sir Paul. You approve my advice, don't you, fir? Mr. Dor. [Dryly], Well, fir. Sir Paul. [Afide] Confounded odd all this, though! [Aloud] Well, count, I have exerted my whole authority with lady Peckham; and Her fon Edmund, who has more influence over her than any body else, is your friend. So be wary, do your duty, and the day is your own. Count My duty, Sir! Mr. Dor. Yes, fir. Your duty, fir. Mr. Dor. Entirely.. The leffon givehim, fir, is a ufeful and a neceffary one. I know him." Count. Afide] Fiends! Sir Paul. What, fir-You-have lived long in the family? Mr. Dor. Sir! Sir Paul. Nay, don't be affronted! Count. To fir Paul Let us be gone, fir! I am ready to attend you. Sir Paul, Afide] The blunteft, drolleft Count: We are lofing time, fir. ment The School for Arrogance, a new Comedy. ment, To Mr. Dorimont Pray, Sir Paul. Ay, his rent roll-The net produce of his eftates, Mr. Dor Why that question to me, fir? Count. [Coming between them] For heaven's fake, fir Paul, let us go. Sir Paul. 'Sblood! What a vio lent hurry you're in all of a sudden! Count. Endeavouring to force bim ay] Lady Peckham is waiting, fir. I beg, 1 intreat Sir Paul. [Afide] The mystery thickens! Mr. Dor. Pray, fir, has the Sir Paul No-no-But, as youCoun. I must infift, fir, on going. [To 'fir Paul.] 149 Sir Paul. I thought you taught every body to keep their diftance; but he eats you with as little ceremony as [Afide] he did me, Count. Yes, ir; people do take very unaccoutnable liberties. Sir Paul. But what brought him here? Count. Sir-He-Bufinefs, fir "Sir Paul. Oh, the family eftates. "Count And pray, fir, what do you know of him? “Sir Paul. 1-Nothing. "Count. You appear to be ac quainted: "Sir Paul Um-No no. "Count. You had feen him before. "Sir Paul, Hem! Yes, I had feen him. Come, let us be going. "Count. But permit me to afk"Sir Paul. Phaw!" Come, come-Lady Peckham is waiting. Count. I must own, fir Paul, I meet with many mortifications. Your daughter is an angel; but there are certain things to which a man of my rank muft not, cannot stoop. Do you, fir Paul, come to an agreement with your lady, and I am ready.-Calls Mac Dermot!-'il return in a moment. [Retires.] "Sir Paul. Now, if the demon of ambition did not poffefs me, I fhould never truckle to the self-fufficient airs of this man of rank! He has put a fpell upon me!-I'I' break with him this moment-Yet, if I do that, all is over. "My authority is gone! Madam will be triumphant; and then farewell to fub Mr. Dor. I'm not prepared, fir, juft now, to answer your question, of the rent roll. I have bufinefs, and must leave you; but I will shortly give you the information you require. In the mean time, young gentleman, think on what has paffed, Obferve fir Paul's advice, and act as becomes you. Put off your vanity-Be humble, and know your-million!-Befide, the honour of the felf. alliance! Nobility! Precedence! A family fo famous! 'Sblood! Who knows but my grandfon may be a marshal of France? [To the count, avho returns] Come, come, count; let us begone. You must make your peace with my madam." Exit Count. Afide feruently] Thank heaven he is gone! Sir Paul. Your fteward is an odd one. Count. Sit--I tell you he is not my fteward. Sir Paul. No?' Sir Paul, What is he then ? Count. Solicitation, fir Paul, does not become me; it is a thing I have not been accustomed to. Do you Speak |