MOST NOBLE

THE

Marquis of Salisbury.

YOUR LORDSHIP's neceffary Attention to and Support of the ENGLISH DRAMA, will, I trust, excufe any feeming Liberty I may take in dedicating to YOUR LORDSHIP these Volumes.

The Success generally attending SELECTIONS from any particular Authors, was the firft and chief Inducement to unite the BEAUTIES of all our refpective DRAMATISTS, whofe

MODERN

Writings have been well received, prefuming, that from the Variety of Stile, &c. which fuch com

pilation must needs display, that it would be highly acceptable to all Admirers and Readers of pleasing Extracts and interesting Fragments.

For me to claim any Merit from a Work, which contains the Merits of others, or expatiate on the Manner of its Arrangement, would be the Height of Arrogance and Vanity----All I can boast, is, that it gives me an opportunity of fubfcribing myself

YOUR LORDSHIP'S

Moft obedient

and devoted Servant,

WALLEY CHAMBERLAIN OULTON,

THE

BEAUTIES

O F

MODERN DRAMATISTS.

So-I

ACKNOWLEDGMENT.

MORTIMER AND CHARLES (unfeen).

Enter MORTIMER (through the Garden).

MORTIMER.

am watch'd, purfued:at every turn my perfecutors meet me;-but I've efcap'd their obfervation, and here at length I may complete the fix'd and fettled purpofe of my foul:-harraffed by my enemies, forgotten by my friends, and forfaken by her who was the very stream and effence of my life ! -this friendly paffport to another world alone cau fnatch me from the fiends of this!-from penury, defpair, and jealousy! (produces phial).

Charles (obferving him). Bless me!-who is that gentleman ?

Mortimer. And yet-when I look back on my paft happiness, and think the fource of it is ftill exifting!

B

-that she and her dear image might still confoleftill wipe away my forrow, I grow irrefolute, and figh for life! (throws himself into the garden chair).

Charles (walking towards Mortimer). Lord! I'm fo happy-it's my father!

Mortimer. Life! what when he loves another! when at this moment fhe lavishes thofe fmiles which

-distraction! that thought is past all bearing, and thus I bury in oblivion!-thus thefe poifonous drugs-(as he raises his arm to drink, Charles lays hold of it, and kneels to him).

Charles. My father! (Mortimer looks and trembles violently). Oh! I'm fo glad you're come home-I hope you'll go no more long journies now.

Mortimer. My child! my child! (embracing him). Charles. Why what's the matter?-how your hand trembles !—and this-(pointing to the phial)-what's this, father?

Mortimer. That!—a toy !-a mere toy, Charles. Charles. A toy!-fie, fie, father!—you a man and play with toys?-nay: that belongs to me.-(Mor-. timer bursts into tears, and catches him in his arms).

Enter Mrs. MORTIMER.

Mrs. Mortimer. 'Tis all confirmed-he's. no where to be heard of, and e'en this, the dark deedCharles. Look mother-look who's come home. Mrs. Mortimer (looking fometimes at Mortimer-then running and falling at his feet). My Mortimer!

Mortimer (rifing and creffing her). Away! contaminate me not!-let me be gone.