All this may be conceived to have paffed, in a mind under the ftrong impreffion of two fuch powerful paffions as love and fuperftitious fear.

In the profpect of death, Abelard confoles himself with the expectation that his body will be conveyed to the Paraclete, and that his tomb will be vifited by Eloifa:

The virtuous Cluni ftill relieves my pains,
To thee will he convey my cold remains:
This kind affurance mitigates my doom,
Thou'lt ftand the guardian angel at my tomb:
Clos'd be this form in Eloifa's fane,

She'll figh my requiem with a Lover's ftrain:
Oft to my grave with forrowful delight
Will the repair as glooms the thick'ning night:
Burft from thy cloud, oh Cynthia, burft away,
The holy fhadow of her frame difplay!
Let the foft texture of her length'ning fhade
Repofe along the fpot where mine is laid!
Were thus her prefence to my wishes giv'n,
Death would rejoice, my grave would then be Heav'n!
'Forgive this laft effufion of a heart

Which Love and Nature form'd unftain'd by Art;
Which midst the fears that wait on Death's decree,
With all its wonted ardor darts to thee.

Prepare, prepare for that relentless day
When the dark hearfe this form fhall bear away!
When to the fane of Paraclete convey'd,
My humble bier fhall at thy feet be laid:
Prepare, prepare-throw back the vestal gate,
Receive the victim of untimely fate:
Receive the Youth misfortune held to view
Still mid his woes invariably true:

That Youth (from other ftrong affections free)
Whofe life was one continued hymn to thee:
That Youth whom paffion rushing on his breaft
With tort'ring and extatic hand imprefs'd.
Prepare, prepare-yet check the bursting moan,
Thou to compaffion exquifitely prone!
Left glowing fympathy, with Death at ftrife,
Should kindle my cold afhes into life,

And my rous'd voice invading Nature's laws
Breathe in loud accents terrible applause.'

If there be, in the image of Eloifa's fhade repofing along the spot where her Abelard's remains are laid, fomething too playful for the gloomy state of Abelard's mind; there is certainly, on the contrary, a degree of extravagance in the laft image, and especially in the last line, which could only suit a ftate of abfolute phrenzy. We must farther remark, that this poem is not wholly free from that affected kind of phraseology,

Y 4

which

which is the reverfe of fimplicity; for example, in the following lines:

· Fame met me in her path, and round my brow
Engarlanded the wreath of fplendor's glow.'

Again, fpeaking of the fentence of excommunication,
While o'er her victim (to dishonour led)

Her cloud of iron extirpation fpread.'

We notice these defects in a writer whofe talents we refpect, in hopes to give fome check to the increafing propensity of modern poets to fubftitute far-fetched conceit for the fimple language of Nature.

THE

ART. XIV. The Fugitive: a Comedy. As it is performed at the King's Theatre, Haymarket. By Jofeph Richardfon, Efq. Barrifter at Law. 8vo. Pp. 86. 1s. 6d. Debrett. 1792. "HE plot of this comedy is fimple: it is the narrative of the efcape of a young lady, who, in order to avoid the addreffes of a young nobleman whom fhe detefts, confents to elope with a man, from whofe character and pretensions her family are averfe. The bufinefs of the play is therefore confined to few characters, though, in order to fill up the ftory, and to diverfify the entertainment, many perfonages are introduced.

The reafons for the young lady's flight are certainly urgent, but there are improbabilities attending it. She confents to fque her happiness by putting herfelf in the power of a man, for whom the fhews no very violent partiality, and whofe prudence and affection fhe evidently doubts. That fhe had caufe for fufpicion is too quickly proved; for no fooner is the affignation made, than the lover returns to the tavern whence he had iffued, and gets drunk in order to deceive the tedious interval till his fair day-ftar arifes.' The interview which follows is well described, if we can fancy an enamoured hero to be fo far inebriated as to forget his miftrefs when he meets her, though he has recollection enough to keep the appointment which he has made. If, however, this comes within the bounds of probability, what follows certainly tranfgrefles them: for no one can allow that, after the ftate of ebriety had been removed by a night's fleep, the lover thould wake and totally forget the appointment with his mistress, and the circumftances which had happened previously to his intoxication, and when he was perfectly in his fenfes.-Other inftances of fimilar improbability are visible in different parts of the drama: but it is needlefs to enumerate them.

Among

Among the characters, no one is confpicuous for novelty of defign, nor for brilliancy of colouring. Old Manly and Admiral Cleveland are, on the whole, the best drawn. We fhall extract a scene between thefe perfonages, as being the best in the play, and one which affords a good fpecimen of the writer's language.-Old Manly had been debating with Mifs Herbert, a sprightly young lady, when the Admiral enters.

Enter Admiral Cleveland.

Admiral. Hey day! What florm's a brewing now? Why neighbour Manly this is a rough gale upon fo fair a coaft-what, quarrelling with my niece?

• Mifs Herbert. Dear uncle, I'm quite rejoiced to fee you, you never came fo feasonably to the rescue of a poor little difabled frigate in your life-Mr. Maniy here-

• Old Manly. Your niece is an impertinent, forward, malicious young woman, Mr. Cleveland, and I defire never to fee her face again—I'll never, never forgive her-No, if I were to live till [ was fixty.

Mifs Herbert. What a formidable refentment! Why the period of it has expired thefe five years.

Admiral. [Afide.] Leave him to me, I'll teaze the old fellowI came on purpose.

it?

Mifs Herbert. I will.

• Admiral. But how did the brush happen? What is the cause of

Mifs Herbert. Why, fir, I fpoke, I am afraid, fomewhat too justly of your friend's age, and appeared to entertain too favourable an opinion of his morality-offences which a lively, determined rover, in his climacteric, can never reconcile to his forgiveness. • Admiral. Oh, is that all.

• Mifs Herbert. So good, Mr. gallant, gay Lothario of fixtyfive, a good morning to you. [Exit Mifs Herbert.

Old Manly. A faucy minx.

• Admiral. Come, Manly, you have too many of the substantial afflictions of life to contend with at prefent to be ruffled by little breezes of this fort-But I am your friend, and I thought it my duty, as fuch, to call upon you, and to do what a friend ought, to comfort you.

Old Manly. Why that was very kind, my old neighbour, very kind indeed-be feated I beseech you-Yes, indeed, 'tis very true, as you fay Admiral, I am a wretched, miferable, unhappy man, opprefs'd with forrows, laden with affliction-overtaken before my time, by many cares. Yet 'tis fomething, my worthy neighbour, to have a trufty friend to take a kind interest in one's misfortunesto fhare, as it were, the fad load of life-to ride and tye with one in the weary pilgrimage-O 'tis a charming thing to have a friend!

• Admiral. I think fo indeed, and hope to prove as much-I have no other object but to comfort you-None, none. - You are indeed very unhappy,

Old

Old Manly. Very, very!

Admiral. Why there's your wife, now.

[A long figh.

Old Manly. Ay-my wife-Oh! Oh! Admiral. Nay be comforted, my friend-be comforted-Why fhe is of herfelf a fufficient load of mifery for any one poor pair of mortal fhoulders. Always fretful, her fufpicions never afleepand her tongue always awake-conftantly making her obfervations, like a veffel fent out upon difcovery-ever on the watch, like an armed cutter, to cut off any little contraband toy, and to intercept any harmless piece of fmuggled amufement.

Old Manly. Oh! 'tis dreadful, neighbour, quite dreadful indeed.

• Admiral. Take comfort, my friend-What did I come here for? take comfort, I fay-There is your fon too.

Old Manly. Yes, my fon too, an abandon'd profligate.

Admiral. Nay, if that were all, there might be hopes-the early little irregularities that grow out of the honeft paffions of our nature, are fometimes an advantage to the ripened man; they carry their own remedy along with them, and when remedied, they generally leave the perfon wifer and better than they found himwifer for his experience, and better for the indulgence which they give him towards the infirmities of others-but a canting, whining, preaching profligate-a fermon-maker at twenty-a fellow that becomes a faint before he's a man--a beardlefs hypocrite-a fcoundrel that cannot be content with common homely finning, but must give it a relish by joining a prayer with it in his mouth--of fuch a fellow there can be no hopes--no hopes indeed.

Old Manly. None, none. Oh miferable that I am, where will my affliction end? Where shall I find confolation?

Admiral. Confolation!-In me to be fure!-What elfe was the purpose of my vifit? I forbear to fay any thing of your daughter, poor unhappy girl.

Old Manly. Conceal nothing from me. What has happened to my poor child-what has happened to her? She was my favourite. Miferable man! O miferable man!

Admiral. Nay, if it will give you any comfort, I will tell you. It is my duty to do fo-why, the, you know, was defperately in love with Charles Welford. He has turned her off, I find-difcharged her the fervice, and has fallen in with fomebody elfe; fo that I fuppofe by to-morrow morning we may lock for her birth, poor girl, in the ambush of a willow, or the retirement of a fishpond.

Old Manly. Now the fum of my calamities is complete [Weeps]. Now, indeed, the cup is full-poor undone man-miferable hufband-wretched father!

Admiral. Aye, and all to come upon you at your time of life too-Had your misfortunes reached you when you were in the vigour of your days-[Old Manly dries his eyes, and looks refentfully] when you retained enough of bodily ftrength and force of mind to cope with them-but-at your time of day, when the timbers are approaching

9

approaching faft towards decay, when the lights of the understanding are upon the glimmer, and the reckoning of life is pretty nearly out-Oh! 'tis too horrible. Faith, after all, I don't know how to comfort you.

Old Manly, [in a rage.] [Both rifing.] I believe not, indeed; you fufty, mufty, old, foul-mouthed, weather-beaten coxcombtimbers approaching fast to decay. Whofe timbers do you mean, old jury-maft? look at your own crazy hulk-do-and don't keep quoting your damn'd log-book criticisms upon your juniors and your betters.

Admiral. Nay, my good friend.

Old Manly. Damn your friendship, and your goodness too. I don't like friendship that only wants me to hate myfelf-and goodnefs that only goes to prove every thing bad about me. So, good Mr. Yellow Admiral fheer off-do-and till you can ftuff your old veffel with a cargo of more commoditable merchandize, don't let me fee you in my latitude again.

• Admiral. Sir, let me tell you, you may repent of this language; were and it not for pity of your age and your miffortunes

Old Manly. O curfe your pity; and as for misfortunes, I know of none equal to your confolation.

• Admiral. You fhall hear more of this, Mr. Manly.

Old Manly. Not for the prefent, if you please-if you want my life, take it-take any thing-only take yourfelf off.

Admiral. Very well, fir. You fhall hear from me at a proper time. [Afide.] I have made the old fool nobly miferable; that's fome comfort, however.

• Old Manly, [folus.] What an afs was I, to liften fo long to the hollow croakings of this melancholy fea-monfter-a rufty old weather cock; always pointing one way, and that to the quarter of misfortune-I miferable!-What should make me fo?-Is not my wife kind and faithful, and only a little trouble fome now and then' for my good-Is not my fon generous and gay-and-and like his father as a fon fhould be-and a'n't I ftout in body, and found in mind, and is not every thing as I would have it?-a difmal oldnow has he given me a fample of the view with which advice is always bestowed, and I him a proof of the effect with which it is always taken-he came to me to increase my diftreffes by confolation, and I have made ufe of his coun fel as a new argument for pleafing [Exit.' myself.

The prologue, by Mr. Tickell, and the Epilogue, by General Burgoyne, are well-written.

The admirable acting displayed in the performance of this comedy certainly makes it appear to much greater advantage on the ftage than it poffeffes in the study.

ART.