you all----[Augusta
raises him]. Yes, it was in the year----have patience--my head always
aches so, when I try to recollect any thing--but I shall soon do
it--Yes--I was carried away, and imprisoned for many, many years: I was
strictly guarded in a close dark vault. It was for high treason, they
said--It was a favour I was not beheaded.

_Lewis._ Go on, go on.

_Old Man._ I soon learned to bear it. But sometimes when I heard the
sound of music, or of people walking over my head, oh! then I wished to
be in the world again. Often in the cold nights I could not forbear to
weep; but they used to beat me, and so I broke myself of that, and now
I can weep no more.

_Mrs. D._ Poor old man!

_Lewis_ [doubtfully]. Old man, who are you?

_Old Man._ At last, as I grew so old, they watched me more
carelessly.--One night I found my door left unlocked, and went away:
ever since I have been wandering about, and lived by begging alms.

_Lewis._ And your relations?

_Old Man._ Oh, yes, yes, I had relations; but they are dead--their
children confined me, for the sake of my fortune. Yet I saved only
for them--Oh, when I remember that, my eyes grow hot, but I cannot
weep----They are my sister's children.

_Lewis_ [kneeling]. Merciful Heaven!

_Mrs. D._ It is he!

_Augusta._ Who?

_Lewis_ [hastily rising]. My uncle! my uncle! I am Brook; your nephew,
your sister's son; the son of your dear Maria.

_Old Man_ [turning from him]. He will betray me. Oh, speak to him not
to put me into jail again.

_Lewis._ Cease, cease!

_Old Man._ Keep all my property; but for your dear mother's sake, do
not let me be imprisoned again.

_Mrs. D._ He loves you, sincerely loves you.

_Augusta._ What a scene!

_Old Man_ [goodnaturedly]. Will you not shut me up again then?--tell
me--No, I am sure you will not.

_Lewis._ Brother of my revered mother in heaven, can you ask? Do not
you feel it? It is the son of your good Maria who weeps before you.

_Old Man._ Let me look at your face--yes--I believe--I have been away
fifteen years, and cannot recollect every thing--but I believe you are
he----

_Mrs. D._ It is he.

_Old Man._ Is it Philip or Lewis?

_Lewis._ I am Lewis, Lewis the youngest.

_Old Man_ [wiping his eyes]. Come to my arms, Lewis!

_Lewis_ [with emotion]. Oh, did not the weight of my guilt lie so heavy
on me!--Here I vow severe revenge.

_Servant entering._ My Lord the Chancellor is coming up stairs.

_Lewis._ Well, w