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For then, the Moro's gallant chief o'erthrown, Thus here, let mirth and frank good-humour's
Mike cenfure mild, scorn kind, and anger calm!
Our litile Bases encounters some dilgrace: Long, very long, great. George, protect the Should you rejeet him too, I mourn hiscale--land,
He can be chosen for no other place.
$ 115. Prologue to Two to One; 1584. Indulgent Heaven prologs th' illustrious line,
COLMAN. Branching like th'olive, clufiring like the vine. TO-NIGHT, as heralds tell a virgin muse;
long, course of , An untrain’d youth, a new advent'rer, lues; A bright example to thy Royal Son !
Green in his one-and-twenty, scarce of age,
Hath warbled oft; oft patiently you heard; § 114. Prologue to the Eleclion of the Managers And as he strove to raise his cager throat, 1784.
Your kind applause made music of his note, “CURST be the verse, how well foe'cr it flow, But now, with beating heart and anxious eye,
“ That tends to make one worthy man my He sees his vent'rous youngling strive to fy: “ foe;
Like Dædalus, a father's fears he brings, 66 Gives virtue scandal, innocence a fear, A father's hopes, and fain would plume his “ Or from the soit-eyed virgin steals a tear!" wings. Thus sung sweet Pope, the vigorous child of How vain, alas, his hopes! his fears how Satire ;
Yet some with critic nose, and eye tou keen, If characters are mai k'd with cale and truth,
* And Dunce the second soilow Dunce the Fear mouli's bale coin, and malice gives the
The shallow ftripling's vain attempt you'll mock,
Thus once when fick Sir Gripus, as we're told,
Prologue occasioned by the Death of Mr.
And blend mysteriously delight with pain ;
To ventits charge, and seek that kind relief?
While on the heart our own afflictions preis! Hardness of heart, no misery regarding,
When our own friend, when Henter for expires,
And from the tomb one parting pang requires !
And on this spot no virtuous drop be thed ?
form, Pour copious streams of oil, 'twill lay the form : Shew you have hcarts that feel domestic woes;
Icarts that with gen'rous emulation burn, § 117. Epilogue intended to be spoken by Mr.
When pocts writ, and parlons preachin vain, friend;
When latine's fting and moral precepts fuil, Honour'd through life, regretted in his end ! Then threats and rougher methods must prevail. And for his relatives to help his fiore,
Tsehold a schoolmaster-Ticklebrecch by name, An audience gave, when he could give no more. Who comes a head trong people to recl1111 ; Him we all mourn; his friends still heave the To lath those fcibles now lo consimon groun, high,
And once more place fair Virtue on her throne. And fill the car stands trembling in the eye. This magie rod, cho' nought but simple wood, His was each mild, cach amiable art,
Il'ith wonders ftrange to mention is enducd. The gentlett manners and the feeling heart; If to that part of man we all deride Fair fimple truth ; benevolence to all;
Tis rightly handled, and with skill applied, A gen'rous warmth, that glow'd at friendship's 'Twill make a lawyer honest 'gainet his wil, call;
The ductor save the patient he would kiil; A judgment sure, while learning toil'd behind ; The statesman too, that Atlas of the state', His mirth was wit; his humour, fense retin'd; Who toils, and liveats, and bends beneath the A foul above all guile, all meaner vicus;
Weight The friend of science, friend of ev'ry mule! Of places, pensions, finecuies, and fecs, Oft have I known him in my veral year- At the first stroke will find immediate case: This no feign'd grief-no arriticial tear! With joy hc 'll cast the pond'rous load aside, Oft in this breast he wak'd the Mules' llame; And at the helm take honour for his guide ; Fond to advise, and point my way to fame. Relieve the indigent without a bribe', Who most shall praise him, all are fili at firife; And spurn at sycophants, that fawning tribe. Expiring virtue Icaves a void in life.
The modern Bubadil, who in taverns beats À void our scene has felt:—with Shakspeare's The feats he did when on proud Gal ia's coasis, page
How twenty Frenchmed at a time he llew, Who now, like him. shall animate the stage? " Twenty more-kill 'em ; twenty more-kill Hamlet, Macbeth, and Benedick, and Lear,
6. them too!" Richard, and Wolsey, pleas'd each learned ear. When in the field his looks his fears betray, If feigning well be our consummate art,
And his own shadow makes him run away ; bis praise, who in lazo's part But if the force of this same cwig he feels, Could utter thoughts so foreign to his heart? His courage straight will leave his friendly hcels, Falstaff, who shook this house with mirthful Mount to his heart, his martial bolom warm, roar,
And, like brave Prussia, the whole world alarm. Is now no counterfeit- he'll rise no more!
Next, to the male-coquet I mean to speak, 'Twas Henderson's the drama to pervade, Whose head, and heart, and
nerves alike are weak; Each patlion touch, and give cach nicer Thade. Who, like that curious mask which Æsop fcigns When o'er these boards the Roman Father The fox admir'd, yet mourn'd the want of braius; pals'd
Who plies his glass, and grinning crics, “ Sir But I forbear-that effort was his last.
“ Peter, The Muse there fawy his zeal, tho' rack’d with “ There 's a fine gir!! Gad's curse! a charming pain,
[gait! While the flow fever airbush'd in each rein.
“ What eyes, what lips ! and then her shape and She fought the bed where pale and wan he lay, “ She inust be mine, 'egad, at any rate." And vainly tried to chafe disease away; This wand, if once it touch the coxcomb's tail, Watch'd ev'ry look, and number'd ev'ry sigh, I do assure him, ne'er was known to fail ; And gently, as he liv'd, the faw him die. He 'll own its charms furpass his sals and drops, Wild with her griefs, she join’d the mournful for into men it changes fools and fops ; throng,
Makes 'em look wile, say litile, and do more; With sullen found as the hearse mov'd along: All.which, I'm sure, they never did before. Thro the dim vaulted ailes the led the way, In good queen Bess's happy golden reign, And gave 10 genius past his kindred clay; The Britidh fair their virtues did maintain; Heard the last requiem o'er his relics cold, But, shame to tell, how dreadful the reflection! And with her tears bedew'd the hallow'd mould. The fex is now so bad to want correction
In faithful verse, there, near the lonely cell, But hold, meihinks from yonder box I hear The fair recording epitaph may
My Lady Dainty thus express her fcar: That he who now lies mould'ring into dust, “ Lard ! sure the filthy fellow does not mean Was good, was upright, generous, and just; “ To turn us up; he won't be so obscene : By talents formd to grace the poct's lays; " I'll go this instant, and as Mr. Rich, By virtue form'd to dignify his days.
" How be darcs suffer this rude Ticklebroech"
Ladies, be calm, this needless rage suspend, With your commission, we 'll our sails unfold,
A charming subject! but a wretched plan. night
His skittish wit, o'ericaping the due bound,
Commits tlat treipats upon tragic ground.
Quarrcis, upbraidiogs, jealousies, and spleen,
Tinge but the language with heroic chime,
What round big words had swell'd the pompous
A king the husband, and the wife a queen! What hellith fury wings th' enthusiast's rage,
Then might distraction rend her graceful hair, And makes the troubled earth one tragic ftage; Scelightless forms, and scream, and gape, and ftare. What blafphemies imposture dares advance,
Drawcantir Death had rag'd without controul, And build what terrors on weak ignorance ;
Here the drawn dagger, there the poison'd bowl. How fraud alone rage to religion binds,
H'hat eyes had fream'd at all the whining woc! And makes a pandemonium of our minds ;
What hands had thunder'd at each Hab! and Ob! Our Gallic bard, fir’d with these glorious views,
But peace! The gentle prologue custom fends, Firti to this crusade led the tragic musc;
Like drum aud terjeant, to beat up for friends,
Our author Aies, but with no partial aiın.
On English ground the makes a firmer stand, In nature's volume to the gen’ral eye.
Books too he read, nor blush'd to use their
He does but what his betters did before.
Shakipeare has done it, and the Grecian stage
Caught cruti of character from Homer's page.
If in his scenes an honeft skill is shown,
And, boriowing little, much appears his own;
If what a mafter's happy pencil drew
Fle brings more forward in dramatic view;
Secure of candour, anxious for applause.
But if, all rude, his artless scenes deface
The fimple beauries which he meant to grace ;
Do jutiice on him—as on fools before-
And give to blockheads past one blockhead more.
$ 120. Prologue 10 Runnanede.
BEFORE the records of renown were kept, And trick up Navery in religion's malk.
Ages of glory in long order rollid,
Nor was the ancient world a wilderness of time.
Her voice ascended to alınighty Jove ;
And Hymen adds one folid comfort more, He sent the Muses from the throne above. To all those comfcrts he conferr'd before ;
The bard arosc; and, full of heavenly fire, To smooth the rough laborious road to fame, With hand immortal touch'd th' immortal lyre; Our bard has chosen-an alluring name. Heroic deeds in strains heroic fung,
As wealth in wedlock oft is known to hide All earth resounded, all heaven's arches rung: The imperfections of a homely bride. The world applaud what they approv'd icfore, This tempting title, he perhaps exscets, Virtue and fame took fep'icie paths no more. May hciahtev beautics--and conceal de fets :
Hence to the bard, interpreter of heaven, Thus Sixty's wrinkles, view'd through Fortunc's The chronicle of famc by Jove is given;
glais, His eye the volume of the past explores, The rotv dimples of Sixtcen surpass : His hand unfolds the everlasting doors;
The modern fuitor grafps his fir-one's hand, In Minos' majefty he lifts the head,
Derlook, her perdut, and adoriso-hur land; Judge of the world, and sov'reizn of the dead; Leers on her hiuses with an ogiig eye, On nations and on kings in senterce tits,
O'er lier rich acres hcares an anisous ligh, Dooms to perdition, or to heaven admits; His heart-felt pangs through groves of—rimber Dethrones the tyrant tho' in triumph huri'd, Calls up the hero from th' eternal world,
And runs difiracted for-her three per cents. Surrounds his head with wreaths that crer boom, Will thus the poet's mimic Heiress find And sows the verse that triumphs o'er the:omb. The bridegroom critic to her failings blind,
While here the Mufes warblid from the ihrine, Whoclaims, alas! his nicer tatie io hit, Ost have you listend to the voice divine. The lady's portion paid in itering wit? A nameless youth beheld, with n ble rage, On your dearces, to fix her future fare, One subjcct fill a stranger to the stage ;
Depends our Heiress for her wlioie etiate : A name that 's music to the Britila car!
Rich in your smiles, the charms th'admiing town; A name that 's worshipp'd in the British sphere, A very bankrupt, ihould you chance to froun: Fair Liberty! the goddess of the ille,
may a verdićt given in your applause Who blesses England with a guardian smile. Pronounce the profp'rous ifjue of her cause, Britons ! a scene of glory draws to-night!
Confirm the name an anxious parent gave her, The fathers of the land arile to fight;
And prove her Heiefs of-the public favouri The legislators and the chiefs of old, The roll of patriots and the barons bold, Who greatly girded with the tword and field,
§ 122. Piologue to the ambitious Sorp-morbir.
Rowe. At storied Runnamede'simmortal ficki, Did the grand charter of your firedom draw, F dying lovers yet deserve a tear; And found the base of li birey on law.
If a sad story of a maid's despair Our author, tiembling for his virgin mulc,
Yet move compailion in the pirying fair; Jlopes in the far rite theme a fond excuse.
This day the poet does his arts employ, If while the tale the theatre commands,
The loft accesses of your souls to try. Your hearts applaud him, he 'll acquit your hands; Nor let the stoic boait his mind unmor'd; Proud on his country's cause to build his name,
The brute philofophier, who ne'er has prov'd And add the patriot's to the poet's faine.
The joy of loving and of being lov'd ;.
And, striving to be more than man, is lcls. $ 121. Prologue in the Herrels. Firz?ATRICK. Nor let the nen the iveeping fair accute, As sprightly sun-bc2015 giid the face of dav, Those kind protectors of the tragic muse,
When lou’ring tempels calanly glide away, Whole tua sdid moving Orway's latcurs crown, So, when the poet's dark horizon clars, And made the poor Monimia's grief their own: Array'd in similes the Epilogue appears. Those tears their art, notweaknets, has confett, She, of that house the lively emblem ftill, Their grief appror'd the niceress of their taste, Whose brilliant speakers start what theincs they And they weptinolt, because they judg dihubeit. will;
O could this age's writers hope to lindi Still varying topics for her sportive rhymes, An audience to companion thus inclin'd, From ail the follies of these fruitful times ; Thetage would need no farce. nor song, nor dance, Un heck'd by forms, i; i hflippart hand may cull- Norcapering Monsieur brought from active France; Prologu.s, like pecis by privilege are dull-- Clinch, and his organ-pipe, his dogs and bear, > In folemn strain addressin' affeinbled pit, To native Barnet might again repair, The legal judges of dramatic wit,
Or breathe with captain Otter Banklide air : Confining still, with dignified decorum, Majestic tragedy should once again Their observations-to the play before 'em. In purple pomp adorn the livelling scene i
Now when each bachelor a helpmate lacks, Her feirchi bould ransack all the ancient fiore, (That fweet exemption from a double tax) The fortunes of their loves and arms explore, When laws are frima with a berignant plan Such as might grieve you, but should please you Of liglit’ning vurdens on the married man,
What Shakspeare durft not, thisbold age should do, S 124. Prolozue to the Tender Husband, or ibe
Accomplifb'd Fools. ADDISON.
the first rise and infancy of farce,
When fools were many, and when plays were And copied all but women that he saw.
scarce, Those ancient heroines your concern should move. The raw unpraelis'd authors could with ease Their grief and anger much, but most their love; For in the account of ev'ry age we find
A young and unexperienc'd audience please : The best and fairest of that sex were kind,
No fingle character had e'tr been shown,
But the whole herd of fops were all their own: To pity always, and in love inclind.
Rich in originals, they set to view,
In erdry piece, a coxcomb that was new.
But now our British theatre can boast
Cuckolds, and cits, ind bawds, and pimps, and O were you but as hind! we know you are as fair,
beaux; Rough country-knights are found of ev'ry shire,
Of every fashion şertle fops appear; $ 123. Epilogue to be fame. Rowe.
And purks of diff'rent characters we meet, The spleen and vapours, and this doleful play, As frequent on the dtage as in the pit;
Have mortified me to that height tu-day, Our modern wits are forc'd to pick and cull, That I am almoft in the mortal mind
And here and there by chance glean up a fool : To die indeed, and leave you all behind. Long ere they find the neceílary spark, Know then, since I resolve in peace to part, Ther fearch the town and boat about the Park: I mean to leave to one alone my heart:
To all his most frequenied haunts refort, (Last favours will admit of no partage, Oft dog liim to the ring, and oft to court; l bar all tharing, but upon the stage)
As love of pleafure, or of place invites ; To one who can with one alone be blest, And sometines catch him taking inuif at White's. The peaceful monarch of a single breast :
Howe'er, to do you right, the present age To one -But, oh! how hard 'twill be to find Breeds very hopeful monsters for the tage; That Phoenix in your fickle changing kind! That fcorn the paths their dull forefathers trod, New loves, new inte etts, and religions new, And won't be blocklicads in the common road, Still your fantastic appetites pursue.
Do but survey ihis crowded house to-night: Your fickly fancies loath what you possess, Here's still encouragement for those that And ev'ry restless fool would change his place.
write. Somc, weary of their peace and quiet grown, Our auihor, to divert his friends to-day, Want to be hoisted up aloft, and shown ; Stocks with variety of fools his play; Whilst from the envied height the wise get And, that there may be something gay and new, Tafely down.
['wo ladies errant has expos'd :0 view: We find your wav'ring temper to our cost, The first a damníel, travell'd in romance; Since all our pains and care to please is loft. The other niore refin'd; the comes from France. Music in vain supports with friendly aid Rescue, like courteous knights, the nymph froin Her fifter Poctry's declining head :
danger; Show but a mimic ape", or french buffcon, And kindly treat, like well-bred men, the stranger. You to the other house in thoals are gone, And leave us here to tune our crowds alone.
STEELE. Must Shakipeare, Fletcher, and laborious Ben
$ 125. Epilogue to the funne. Be left for Scaramouch and Harlequin : BRITONS, who confiant war, with factious Allow you are inconstant, yet 'tis ftrange,
rage, For sense is still the fame, and ne'er can change. For liberty against each other wage, Yet even in that you vary as the rest,
From foreign insults lave this English stage. And ev'ry day new notions are profit. No more th' Italian squalling tribe admit, Nay, there's a ' wit has found, as I am told, In tongues unknown; 'uis popery in wit. New ways to heaven, despairing of the old : The fongs (themselves confels) from Rome they He fwtars he 'll spoil the clerk and fexton's trade, bring, Bells shall no more 'e rung, nor graves be made: And 'tis high-mass,for aught you know, they sing. The hearse and fix no longer be in falhion, Husbands, rake care, the danger may come nigher, Since all the faithful may expeet translation. The women say their eunuch is a friar, What think you of the project? I'm for trying, But is it not a serious ill to see I'll lay aside there foolish thoughts of dying ; Europe's great arbiters fo mcan can be; Preserve my youth and vigour for the stage, Patlive, with an affc&ted joy to fit, And be traviated in a good old age.
Suspend their native taste of manly wit ;