joke, which was doubtless perpetrated in the
true clown–and–pautaloon style, the first act
terminates.

In the second act we find Flavio unwilling to
go home, through the honourable motive that
he is deeply in love with Isabella, and fears to
compromise his friend Oratio. Pedrolino counsels
him to subdue this passion, and afterwards,
without assigning a reason, advises Oratio to
remove Isabella from her present place of
concealment, having first put on the dress of a
Spaniard, as likely to cause terror. There is then
a comic scene between the captain, Pantaloon,
and Harlequin, who jostle against each other in
the dark, till Flavio, sword in hand, puts the
captain to flight, and remains alone on the stage.
Isabella, attracted from the house, asks him why
he does not come in to supper, whereupon he
alleges a passion for a lady, but refuses to say
who she is. Pedrolino loudly calls Isabella by
name, and his voice brings forward the captain,
whom he takes for Oratio in the Spanish
disguise, and exhorts Isabella to follow him. She
complies, and Flamminia, who has watched the
whole proceeding from her window, and falls
into the same mistake as Pedrolino, bewails her
hapless lot, and is heard by Flavio, who pities
her sorrows and deplores his own. Pedrolino,
who has discovered his blunder, now appears
in terror, and declares that Isabella is gone off
with the captain. Flavio hastens to her rescue,
and Flamminia, overjoyed, entering Isabella's
chamber, puts on the hat and cloak which she
has left behind. Now, at last, Oratio comes
disguised as a Spaniard, and is on the point of
carrying off Flamminia, whom he mistakes for
Isabella, when he is interrupted by the watch,
the captain of whom sends the supposed Isabella
home to his own wife and daughter, and
summons Oratio to appear in the morning before
the viceroy. Oratio is left in a dismal mood,
but is presently cheered by Flavio, who
reappears to assure him that he has rescued
Isabella from the captain, and lodged her with
a lady named Franceschina. A squabble between
Pantaloon and the doctor, which was, no
doubt, carried on with the utmost violence, ends
the second act.

Day now dawns. Oratio hears from Franceschina,
who, it seems, is a lodging–house keeper,
the generous devotion of Flavio, and also that
Isabella has left the lodging to return to her
father's house. He is next informed by Harlequin
of the wrath of Pantaloon, by whose orders
the watch had intercepted Isabella in her flight,
and who threatens to hang Pedrolino. In the
mean while, Pantaloon has discovered that the
person captured is Flamminia disguised as Isabella;
and Flavio, who learns this and believes that
Oratio has proved unfaithful to his love, in
the plenitude of his indignation resolves to kill
Flamminia. Meeting Isabella on her way home
to her father, Pantaloon, he tells her all that he
has heard; but the sbirri making their appearance,
summon him to the court on the charge of
an attack upon the watch, which, I presume,
occurred when he rescued the sham Isabella
from Captain Spavento. He draws his sword
on the sbirri, who retire, having first wounded
him in the head, which is now bandaged by the
weeping Isabella. He is taken into Pantaloon's
house, and his serious misfortune is burlesqued
by a comic scene between Captain Spavento,
who enters with his head bandaged, and Pantaloon,
who in vain endeavours to find his wound.
The story is now brought to a happy conclusion.
Pantaloon pardons his daughter, and
Oratio, deeply moved by the emotion of his
friend, resigns Isabella in his favour, and marries
Flamminia instead. What were the feelings of
Isabella on being thus coolly used to pay a debt
of gratitude we have no means of learning;
but as she was represented by a lady, who in
her day was reckoned not the greatest of all
actresses, tragic or comic, but the most virtuous
of her sex, we have no doubt they were very
adequately expressed.

It will be observed that, notwithstanding the
complexity of the action above described, the
unities of time and place are severely preserved,
and that were the revival of the play demanded
at the present day, it would be brought out
with a single scene, exactly the same in principle
as that employed for the representation of
Terence's comedies at Westminster. On one
side would stand the house of Pantaloon, on
the other that of the doctor, while the stage
would represent the street.

CAROL FOR CHRISTMAS.

BE comforted, O earth,
    Break forth, and sing
A song of praise
For happier days;
He is coming—the great King!

Be comforted, ye poor.
God's garner, open wide,
Shall ample store provide
For evermore.
The chains that curst,
Asunder burst,
In troops the prisoners from the dungeons rise,
    Half scared, and dazzled quite,
    To meet the gracious light,
The light of emerald earth and azure skies.

Oh, broken hearts, and weary,
That find this life so dreary,
And ye tormented,
That have lain
Long years in pain,
Waiting for death in vain;
And ye despised ones,
All out of sight and thought,
That seem to count for nought
On this unfriendly earth,
Fear not; to Him ye are of tender worth;
And He cometh, the great King,
The Angel of the covenant,
With healing on His wing!

Rejoice, rejoice, earth,
    Break forth and sing
A psalm of praise
For happier days,
    He is coming, the great King!