Peg Woffington

an a beautiful woman in company with a man she is indifferent to o

cency; and when she spoke to him, her voice, so clear and cutting in the late assa

r words upon paper, but where are the heavenly tones-now calm and convincing, now soft and melancholy, now thrilling with tenderness, now glowing with the fiery eloquence of passion? She told him that she knew the map of his f

," said he; "for your face is the shrine

done ill to hide the riches of her heart from the cold and shallow, and to keep them a

ne, "that is

roverb, 'Many lovers, but few friends.' And oh

lived,

way for him, Ernest Vane, inferior in wit and address

's answer is, I thi

I must have a superior to love-lie open to my eye. Light itself is not more beautiful than the upright man, whose bosom is open to the day. Oh yes! fear not you will be my superior, dear; for in me honesty has to struggle against the habits of my art and life. Be simple and sincere, and I

told her he was unworthy of her, but that he would try

etter tell you everything? You will not

ou better-oh! s

will own

d before me! I could not bear to hear

k creature ne

I never loved b

. Never mind whether it is true. My child, you do not even yet know love. Ernest, shall I make

esent happiness and vowed himself hers forever. And she, for her part, bade him but retain her esteem and no woman ever went further

ould be no rehearsal. This left her at liberty, and she proceeded to take a somewhat abrupt leave of Mr. Vane. He was endeavo

he score of a duty which she said she had to perform, and whispering as she

slightly d

lover called him to serious account-finding it was not her intention to make mischief, and not choosing to publish his own defeat, dropped quietly into his old line, and determine

r Charles Pomander, the settled malignity with which you pursue that lady is unmanly and offensive to me, wh

that it was only due to himself to wit

n but Pompey, the renegade. He darted up to Sir Charles, and said: "Massa Pomanna

Pomander. "Sa

gs, Lambeth. Me in a

there's a guine

ort cut, caught and fastened on

a fashionable shop, with entrances from two streets; that the best Indian scarfs and shawls were sold there, and that ladies kept their carriages waiting an immense time in the principal street, while they were supposed to be in the shop, or the show-room. He th

e turne

I will not dog her like

" said P

y what

is you who are imposed on, or whether you are ri

with a gold-laced black slave behind it. The coach stopped; and the slave came to the door. The shop in question was a few hundred yards distant. The adroit Sir Charles not only stopped but turned his coach, and let the horses crawl back toward London; he also flogged the side panels to draw the attention of Mr. Vane. That gentleman looked throug

d. Sir Charles came

usiness, you must promise me to be cool and reasonable. I abhor abs

ctation," said Van

said the other politely; "let me, who am se

sorrow that such an angel should be a m

ked to t

ay and that," said Poma

noiter; and, if we don't see her there, we will enter the shop, and by d

heavily on h

aint,"

id Sir Charles. "Your weakness w

to the principal street. Vane began to hope there was no positive evidence. Suddenly three stories up

. "Is not that

red his face with his

er favor

Pomander.

attling jig played and danced with the inspiriting interjections of that frolicsome natio

Irishman's knee, whose limbs are ever so much stouter than yours. You are the man of her head, and this is the man of her heart. These things would be monstrous, if they were not common; incredible,

nce," said Vane. "I sti

d, and said he

ng myself as much as her-oh yes! more than her!-I will go down this night t

said Sir

r le fat, la plain

e trompe s'eloig

ou re

es

foll

ke lightning, and was in the room. Vane's head p

e. She gave a little scream, and turned as red as fire. But Sir Charl

ritten with power enough to do that, and I may venture to leave him to guess whom Sir Char