Costume.

The respective characters are habited in the provin cial costume of this country, at the close of the seventeenth century.

Cast of the Characters at the Theatre-Royal,

Scene, Norfolk.-Period, the close of the seventeenth century.-Time, an afternoon.

1

The Conductors of this Work print no Plays but those which they have seen acted. The Stage Directions are given from their own personal observations, during the most recent performances.

The instant a Character appears upon the Stage, the point of Entrance, as well as every subsequent change of Position, till its Exit, is noted, with a fidelity which may, in all cases, be relied on; the object being, to establish this Work as a Standard Guide to the Stage business, as now conducted on the London boards.

EXITS and ENTRANCES.

R. means Right; L. Left; R. D. Right Door; L. D. Left Door; S. E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. D. Middle Door RELATIVE POSITIONS.

R. means Right; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C. Right of Centre; L.C. Left of Centre. The following view of the Stage with Five Peformers in front, will, it is presumed, fully demonstrate thé Relative Positions.

The Reader is supposed to be on the Stage facing the Audience.

HIDE AND SEEK.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A Garden.-The flat represents a boundary wall, covered with fruit-trees. Against the wall, in the centre, is a Greenhouse, the windows of which are nearly covered, on the inside, with a grape-vine in full bearing. The door opens to the front.

FREDERICK opens the door of the Greenhouse, looks cautiously around, and comes forward.

Fred. [Solus.] Ha! not here yet? [He calls in a subdued voice.] Flora!-What in the world can detain her so long? Perhaps that blockhead Davy, whom I stumbled upon last night in the dark, has informed her father of my presence. But, no, no; the poor devil was too much alarmed to take me for any thing human. -* "Well, she will be here ere long, and then I shall "know the truth; and, to lighten my suspense, I must "e'en solace myself with recollection of the past, and anticipation of the future

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SONG.-FREDERICK.

"When sever'd from those whom we love,
"And our bosoms with anguish are beating,
"The doubts and the fears which we prove
"But enhance the enjoyment of meeting:
"And, while Memory strives to allay
"Our pain, by a glimpse at the past,
"Hope steals, from the future, a ray
"O'er the present its lustre to cast."

• The passages marked with inverted commas were omitted in the representation.

What will his lordship think of my flight from the castle? [He takes a letter from his bosom.] Thanks to Flora's management, I have contrived to scribble a note to my friend William, to apprise him of my retreat. [He reads.] As you are aware of my penchant for Flora Budstock, I merely write to inform you, that, under the pretext of having accidentally killed his lordship's favourite hunter, and being afraid to meet him, I have prevailed upon her to conceal me for a few days, without the knowledge of her father. I thought, when once in the place, the garrison would surrender at discretion; but Flora's virtue and ingenuousness have altered the complexion of my adventure from a mere affair of gallantry to one of absolute love and devotion. Confiding in your friendship to invent some feasible excuse for my absence, I remain yours, Frederick.'Now, if Flora can but find some means of conveying it. But 'tis very strange that she does not come, for I don't require the castle clock to inform me that it's past my dinner-time; and, if I don't-[Listens.] Ha! she

comes.

Bud. [Within.] What, again! Zounds! do you take me to be as arrant a sapskull as yourself? Fred. As I live, 'tis her father! I must vanish.

[He re-enters the Greenhouse, and bolts the door.

Why, you

Enter BUDSTOCK, followed by DAVY DIBBLE. Davy. Oh, very well! If you don't like to take my word for it, you can let it alone, you know. Perhaps, when you see it yourself, you'll believe it. Bud. See it myself! I wish I could. pumpkin-headed booby, you're afraid of your own shadow. I tell you again 'tis a fox, and nothing else but a fox; and, if you had as much courage as a tomtit, you'd have knock'd, him o' the head, and brought his brush into the house.

Davy. Icod! I was too glad to brush into the house myself. I'll tell you what, uncle: you won't believe my tale, and I wouldn't believe the fox's tail-not even if I was to see it. I say again and again, that it's a ghost, and I'll take my oath of it.

Bud. Pshaw! Would you make me believe that a ghost could make a hole through a quickset hedge, and steal my grapes and my poultry?

Davy. Why, as your ghosts are a sort of cattle that