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I knew the eye, though faint its light, that once so brightly shone

I knew the voice, though feeble now, that thrill'd with every tone

I knew the ringlets, almost grey, once threads of living

gold—

I knew that bounding grace of step-that symmetry of mould !

Even now I see her far away, in that calm convent

aisle,

I hear her chant her vesper-hymn, I mark her holy smile

Even now I see her bursting forth, upon her bridal

morn,

A new star in the firmament, to light and glory born! Alas! the change! she placed her foot upon a triple

throne,

And on the scaffold now she stands-beside the block, alone!

The little dog that licks her hand, the last of all the crowd

Who sunn'd themselves beneath her glance, and round her footsteps bow'd!

Her neck is bared-the block is struck-the soul is pass'd away;

The bright-the beautiful is now a bleeding piece of clay !

The dog is moaning piteously; and, as it gurgles o'er, Laps the warm blood that trickling runs unheeded to the floor!

The blood of beauty, wealth and power-the heartblood of a queen

The noblest of the Stuart race-the fairest earth had

seen

Lapp'd by a dog! Go, think of it, in silence and

alone;

Then weigh against a grain of sand the glories of a throne!

SCENES FROM THE SCHOOL OF REFORM.

THOMAS MORTON.

[Thomas Morton was a very prolific as well as a successful dramatist. His plots are generally consistent, his scenes thoroughly English, his characters are drawn from living men and women, and are not, as in most of our modern sensational dramas, imaginary idiots or monsters. He was born at Durham in 1764, and entered as a student at Lincoln's Inn with a view to following the law as a profession. His first piece proving successful, he turned professional author, and never had occasion to regret the change. The pieces of no dramatist of his day have kept the stage so long, and many of them still remain stock pieces. Of these, "The School of Reform," "A Cure for the Heart-ache," "A Rowland for an Oliver," "The Invincibles," "Speed the Plough," and "Town and Country," may be named as the greatest favourites. He died in 1838.1

LORD AVONDALE, FERMENT, ROBERT TYKE, an OLD MAN. An Apartment in Avondale Castle; two chairs. Enter LORD AVONDALE, R.; he pauses, then proceeds to opposite door off stage, and opens it.-TYKE enters from it.

Ld. A. (R.) Come hither-How is this, Robert ? When I left England you were a youth, whose example was pointed out as an object of imitation—your morals were pure, your industry exemplary-how is it, then, that I now see you an abandoned outcast?

Tyke. (L.) Ah, sur, it was all along wi' you.

Ld. A. Me! was not my bounty ample? did not I give you independence?

Tyke. Ah, that was it—when you sent me that little child to take care on

Ld. A. Hush!

Tyke Well, well;-and that big lump of money! you see, as I had not worked for it, it made me quite fidgetty; I always had my hand in my pocket, scrummeling it about like-so, as all Yorkshire lads like

galloping horses, I bought one, and took't to races, up at our country side-and, ecod! I pulled stuff into my hat as clean as ninepence. Oh, oh! says I, I'll make short work of this; I'll go to Newmarket, where the lords do bring their cattle, and settle matters in a hurry. So I went, and mighty pleased I was; for the jockey lords called me 'squire, you see-and clapping me on the back, in this manner, says, 'Squire, your horse will beat everything!

Ld. A. Indeed!

Tyke. Yes, yes-that was pleasant enough; but, unluckily, the jockey lads told me a cursed heap o' lies; for ma horse always came in lag last. Then they told ma to hedge; but it was not the hedging I had been used to, and somehow I got intid ditch like-So what with that and playing cards at Lamb skinnings (for, bless you, I could not catch them at Snitchums), I was— Ld. A. Ruined.

Tyke, Yes; as jockey lords said-completely cleaned

out.

Ld. A. Did you not return to honest labour?

Tyke. Oh no, I could not-my hands had got soft and smooth, and I had a ring girt about my finger ;I could not tak to work.

no,

Ld. A. Go on.

Tyke. Why, as I could stay there no longer, I thought it would not be a bad plan to go away-so I went intid stable, and, would you believe it? the horse that beat mine somehow coaxed and contrived to get me on his back like—and, ecod, galloped off wi' me a matter of a hundred miles.-I thought no more about it myself

Ld. A. But they did?

Tyke. Yes, dom them, and were very cross indeed; for they put me intid castle, and tried me at 'sizes.

Ld. A. What could you say to avert your fate? Tyke. Why, I told the judge says I, my lord, I hope you'll excuse my not being used to this kind of tackle exchange is no robbery, mistakes of this kind

will happen; but, I assure you, I've kept the best of company with the jockey lords, and such like as yourself. So they all smiled, as much as to say, he's one of us, like—and I thought all was right enough; but the judge puts him on a black cap, and, without saying with your leave, or onything, orders me to be hanged. Ld. A. Poor wretch!

Tyke. Don't you be frightened! they did not hang me, man-don't believe that; no, bless you, they sent ma to Botany Bay for fourteen years.

Ld. A. Where, I hope, you remained resigned to your fate.

Tyke. Oh! quite resigned, for I could not get away— I dare say I tried a hundred times.

Ld. A. Why did not I know it—had you sent to my

house

[blocks in formation]

Tyke. Why, they wrote word, I think, that you had been called up to t'other house-but then I did not know where that was-and that you was sent abroad by Government: I was sorry to hear that, because I knew what that was by myself like; not that it surprised me, because I heard of your always being at Cockpit, and I guessed what that would end in.

Ld. A. Pshaw! Come hither; tell me I dread to ask it-that child-where-hush! we are interrupted. [Exeunt, L.

MR. FERMENT peeps through R., looks about, then enters.

Mr. F. While his lordship is engaged, no harm in taking a peep. Charming rooms! fit for expanded genius like mine: here I shall meander through these enchanting labyrinths till I reach the closet-the sanctum sanctorum-the-eh! somebody in that room: it would be mal-apropos to stumble on the peer before I'm introduced-but he's safe with the general, so never mind. (Re-enter TYKE, L.) Sir, your most devoted servant.

Tyke. Same to you, sir; same to you. (crosses to R.) Mr. F. Odd figure! Oh, I see at once who he isgreat county man, in the commission-get well with him-may be useful. Sorry, sir, the robbery was not brought home to that rascal.

Tyke. Are you? Now there we differ.

(Takes chair and sits R.)

Mr. F. Indeed! (Sits L.) You, who are used to the sessions, must know these things better than I. Your friend, Lord Avondale, is a great character, extremely popular: Did you hear his last speech?

Tyke (R.) No; I don't myself much fancy last speeches.

Mr. F. (L.) In the country, perhaps?

Tyke. No; I was out of the country.
Mr. F. Abroad?

Tyke. Yes.

Mr. F. What, run out a little, eh-rather out at the elbows?

Tyke. A good deal.

Mr. F. You'll excuse me; but I see things in a moment-What-cards, hazard-ah, my dear sir, you should have got some friend to have tied you up.

Tyke. You think so? Why, I could have got that done fast enough.

Mr. F. But I suppose you were determined to take your swing?

Tyke. Not exactly; but I did not go abroad on that

account.

Mr. F. Oh, I know it in a moment-ill health? Tyke. Why, I certainly should have died if I had stayed.

Mr. F. Indeed!—Oh, my dear sir, in this world we must all have our trials, and you have had yours. Tyke. I have.

Mr. F. Suffered much confinement?
Tyke. A good deal.

Mr. F. You of course were properly attended: you haa good judges of your case?

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