PROLOGUE.

Written and spoken by SAMUEL FOOTE, Esq.

To-NIGHT, be it known to box, gall'ry, and pit,
Will be open'd the best * summer-warehouse for wit;
The new manufacture, Foote and Co. undertakers;
Play, pantomime, opera, farce-by the makers!
We scorn, like our brethren, our fortunes to owe
To Shakspere and Southern, to Otway and Rowe.
Though our judgment may err, yet our justice is shewn,
For we promise to mangle no works but our own.
And moreover on this you may firmly rely,

If we can't make you laugh, that we won't make you cry.
For Roscius, who knew we were mirth-loving souls,
Has lock'd up his lightning, his daggers, and bowls.
Resolv'd that in buskins no hero shall stalk,
He has shut us quite out of the tragedy walk.
No blood, no blank-verse!—and in short we're undone,
Unless you're contented with frolic and fun.

If tir'd of her round in the Ranelagh-mill,
There should be but one female inclin❜d to sit still;

* Mr. GARRICK, at this time, had let his playhouse for the summer months.

If blind to the beauties, or sick of the squall,

A party should shun to catch cold at Vauxhall;

if at Sadler's sweet Wells the made wine should be thick,
The cheese-cakes turn sour, or Miss Wilkinson sick;
If the fume of the pipes should oppress you in June,
Or the tumblers be lame, or the bells out of tune;
I hope you will call at our warehouse in Drury;
We've a curious assortment of goods, I assure you
Domestic and foreign, and all kinds of wares;
English clocks, Irish linen, and French petenlairs!
If for want of good custom, or losses in trade,
The poetical partners should bankrupts be made;
If from dealings too large, we plunge deeply in debt,
And WHEREAS issue out in the Muses' Gazette;
We'll on you our assigns for CERTIFICATES call;
Though insolvent, we're honest, and give up our all.

ALL IN THE WRONG.

ACT 1. SCENE 1.

The Park. Enter Sir JOHN RESTLESS and ROBERT, from a House in the Side Scene.

Sir John.

SIR John Restless! Sir John Restless! thou hast

played the fool with a vengeance.

What devil whis-
Robert, you

pered thee to marry such a woman? have been a faithful servant, and I value you. Did your lady go out at this door here into the Park, or did she go out at the street-door?

Rob. This door, sir.

Sir John. Robert, I will never live in a house again that has two doors to it.

Rob. Sir!

Sir John, I will give warning to my landlord instantly. The eyes of Argus are not sufficient to watch the motions of a wite, where there is a streetdoor, and a back-door, to favour her escapes.

Rob. Upon my word, sir, I wish-you will pardon my boldness, sir,-I wish you would shake off this uneasiness that preys upon your spirits. It grieves me to the heart,—it does, indeed, sir, to see you in