48.

The Outlaw smiled, 'tis a soldier's saye
That the Gordons, blythe and ready,

Ne'er stoop'd the plumes of their basnets bright
Save to a lovesome lady..

49.

Now by Saint Allan, the forester said,
And the Saint who slew the dragon;
And by this hand that wields the brand,.
As wight as it tooms the flagon;

50.

It shall never be told of the Gordon's name,
Of a name so high and lordly,

That I took a gallant Outlaw in the toil,
And hanged him base and cowardly.

51.

I'll give thee the law of Lord Nithisdale,
A good lord of the border;

So take thy bow, thou gallant Outlaw,
And set thy shafts in order.

52.

And we will go each one to his stance,
With bows and arrows ready;

And thou shalt climb up Chatsworth bank,
Where the wood is wild and shady.

53.

And thou shalt stand on yon rough red rock,
With woodbine hung and bracken;
And shout three times o'er Derwent vale,
Till all the echoes waken.

54.

Then loose thy shafts and slay a buck
Fit for a monarch's larders;

And carry him free from Chatsworth park,
In spite of seven warders.

55.

Do this and live, and I do vow

By the white hand of my mother,

I'll smite him low who runs ere thou shout,
Were he Saint Andrew's brother.

56.

The Outlaw smiled; good Gordon, he said,
I'll shout both high and gaily;

And smite a buck and carry him off;
Tis the work I'm bowne to daily.

57.

The Outlaw stood upon Chatsworth rock,
Like light his looks did gladden;
The sun was shining on Bakewell-Edge,
And on the heights of Haddon.

58.

The Outlaw stood upon Chatsworth rock,
He look'd to vale and mountain,

And gave a shout so shrill, the swans
Sprung up from stream and fountain.

59.

The Outlaw stood upon Chatsworth rock,
And shouted shrill and gaily;

Till the dun deer leap'd from brake and bower,
Three miles down Derwent valley.

60.

The Outlaw stood upon Chatsworth rock,
Looking o'er the vale so narrow;

And his voice flew fleet as away from the string
Starts off the thirsty arrow.

61.

And loudly it rung in Haddon-wood,
Where the deer in pairs were dernan:
And loudly it rung in Haddon-hall,
And up rose Julia Vernon.

62.

If ever I heard my true love's voice,
Tis now through my bowers ringing;
His voice is sweet as the wild bird's note,
When the buds bloom to its singing.

63.

For well I know my true love's voice,
It sounds so gay and clearly;
An angel's voice in a maiden's ear
Would ne'er drop down so dearly.

64.

She took her green robe in a hand
White as the opening lily,

And the morning sun and the lovely maid
Look'd down on Chatsworth valley.

65.

Around the brow of the high green hill
The sun's fair beams were twining,
And bend and fall of the Derwent stream
In golden light were shining.

66.

The silver smoke from Chatsworth tower,
Like a pennon broad went streaming,

And gush'd against the morning sky,
And all the vale was gleaming.

67.

She gave one look on the broad green land,

And back her tresses sheddin',

With her snowy neck, and her bonnie blue eyes,
Came down from the hill of Haddon.

68.

She saw the wild dove start from its bower,
And heard the green-boughs crashing,
And saw the wild deer leap from its lair,
And heard the deep stream dashing.

69.

And then she saw her own true love
Bound past by bush and hollow,
And after him seven armed men
With many a shout and hollo.

* Dernan, concealing. "Abusing and harming his Majesty's good subjects by their darned (concealed) stouths."-Acts of James I. of England. Anglo-Saxon, dearn-an.

TOM TOPSAIL and CORPORAL

Scene.-A room at Admiral Anchor's. CARTRIDGE discovered at a table drinking; one singing Rule Britannia, the other, God Save the King. The CORPORAL has but one eye, one leg, and one arm: Toм TOPSAIL has only one eye, and neither legs nor arms.

Tom. Fill again, my boy, fill again: † our old master, Admiral Anchor, whose niece died in her infancy, ‡ finds us drink; and the least we can do is to find our own toast § to it. "Tis my turn to give one now.

Corp. And suppose you tack a sentiment to it, 'twill all go in our day's

work.

Tom. Well thought on, old boy; I'll give you" Old England, and may she always be victorious by land and by sea!"

Corp. Huzza!

Together. Huzza! huzza! huzza!

Corp. And she always is victorious. ||

Tom. Tom Topsail has done his duty; so now for something from old Corporal Cartridge. And I say,-hand us over something as new as a seventy-four on the stocks.

Corp. Something new? Well, let me see: I'll give you-"The King, and all the Royal Family !"**

has done much in

The alliteration is pretty, remarkably pretty. Mr. Dthis way, but has never succeeded better than in the present instance. + The student in dramatic literature (for whose improvement these selections are especially intended) cannot too frequently peruse this scene. Mr. D- -'s dialogues between crippled corporals, and able and disabled seamen, have been justly praised for their truth of imitation. What, indeed, can be more natural than this scene? I have sometimes listened to similar colloquies at the Theatres Royal; and, so perfect has been the allusion, that I have fancied myself sitting in a Wapping pot-house.

To those who are not well versed in the modern drama, this allusion to the Admiral's niece, who died in her infancy, may seem as little necessary here, as an allusion to his great-grandmother, who died before he was born. It is, however, a very ingenious hint, and introduced with considerable art. To a practised spectator it says, as plainly as words can speak-" This niece, who died in her infancy, is in excellent health and condition, as her appearance, at a moment when you least expect it, will convince you."

§ As the author of Virtue's Harvest Home has given us dialect for character; so the author of Britain's Glory has substituted pun, alliteration, and other turns of words, in the place of turns of thought,-a dull expedient used by Congreve, Sheridan, and a few others, for the purpose of ekeing out their dialogue. It is said, that the worse a pun is, the better: better than Mr. D.

's cannot be.

This is a joke that never fails to entrap the spectators into the bestowal of three good rounds of applause. I have often been in doubt, though, on these occasions (and they are lavished with an unsparing hand in Mr. D's operas, &c.), whether we brave Britons are applauding the author or ourselves.

** Cram a child with pastry and sweetmeats till you make him sick, and he will never after put himself in the way of a whipping by stealing tarts. The immoderate quantity of loyalty nightly administered to the public during several seasons, by this author, may have served to I say, that children love tarts till you force them down their throats, and then they would rather eat potatoes.

VOL. V.

M

Tom. God bless 'em. That's a toast will never be the worse for wear.Huzza!

Together. Huzza! buzza! huzza!

Corp. But I say, Master Boatswain, there's bad news in your line to-day.

Tom. Bad news? What, I suppose we've taken only twenty of the enemy's ships at a haul?

Corp. I wish it was no worse.

an English cutter.

Eleven French men of war have taken

Tom. Avast there, Master Corporal; an English cutter has taken eleven French men of war, you mean."

Corp. I tell you, 'tis as I say.

Tom. Then I tell you, it is a lie—you old blockhead.†

Corp. I read it in the Gazette.

Tom. Damn the Gazette !-No; I won't damn the Gazette, for it bears the King's arms; and whatever bears the King's arms ————— ; but I see how it is one of your glims is doused, and you can't read plain with the other. Corp. I tell you I read it-'twas as plain as a general order. Besides, where's the great mischief of it?

Tom. Mischief! A loyal subject ask where's the mischief of it! Eleven French ships take an English cutter! Why, the thing's as impossible as to steer without compass or rudder. Pooh! and be damn'd to you. And to tell such a rigmarole to an old sailor who has fought for his king and country. Cartridge, you're a damn'd hard-hearted old rascal.

Corp. That's unkind; and I'd rather swallow a musket than drink another drop with you.

Tom. You have brought the salt water into the eye of an old seaman. (Wiping his eye. § )

Corp. Dam'me, I'm sorry for that. (Wiping his eye.)

Tom. Are you though? Well, a British sailor can forgive a friend, as well as beat a foe; and there's nothing so bright as the tear of an old soldier who has bled for his king

Corp. Except the tear of a British tar who has bled for his country.

Tom. And to shew || that a British tar doesn't bear malice, I'll give you "Chelsea for ever!

Together. Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!

Corp. And to shew that a British soldier can forget and forgive, I'll give you" Greenwich for ever!"

Together. Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!

(They come forward.)

Corp. You've seen some service, old boy, and so have I. What a glorious thing is a battle! **

Englishmen conduct themselves well whenever called into action, and sometimes, indeed, perform prodigies of valour; but they no where perform such prodigies as in Mr. D- 's pieces.

+ This expression is perfectly in keeping with the character. It would be absurd to cavil at it as being coarse and vulgar. Sailors are not petit-maîtres, and 'tis well 'tis

no worse.

This scene is eminently pathetic. In such Mr. D.

-'s works abound. His

Jack Tars, when they are not boasting, are either sentimentalizing or crying.

§ There is a kind of imitation which possesses the merit of originality. This is of that class. Mr. M's farmers are perpetually striking their bosoms: Mr. D's sailors are perpetually wiping their eyes. A true-born British tar, in the course of one of these three-act comic operas, will shed you "salt-water" sufficient to float his own vessel.

|| And to shew (he might add) that a British tar will guzzle, and find good reasons for guzzling, so long as any one will find him drink.

** Whenever a British tar appears in a comic opera, a description of a battle is inevitable. It need not be made necessary to the progress of the action, nor need it be drawn in naturally by the current of the dialogue; but, as in the present instance, and, as it usually is, it may be lugged in neck and shoulders, whenever the author thinks proper. As, however, it is always effective-that is to say, certain of being applauded