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In short, 'twas his fate, unemploy'd, or in place, sir,
To eat mutton cold, and cut blocks with a razor. Here lies honest William,* whose heart was a mint,
While the owner ne'er knew half the good that was in't;
The pupil of impulse, it forc'd him along,
Would you ask for his merits? alas! he had
What was good was spontaneous, his faults were his own.
Here lies honest Richard, whose fate I must sigh at;
Alas, that such frolic should now be so quiet! What spirits were his! what wit and what whim! Now breaking a jest, and now breaking a limb;t Now wrangling and grumbling to keep up the
Now teazing and vexing, yet laughing at all.
* Vide page 59.
Mr. Richard Burke ; vide page 59. This gentleman having slightly fractured one of his arms and legs, at different times, the doctor had rallied him on those accidents, as a kind of retributive justice for breaking his jests upon other people.
In short, so provoking a devil was Dick,
But, missing his mirth and agreeable vein,
Here Cumberland* lies, having acted his parts,
His fools have their follies so lost in a crowd
Here Douglast retires from his toils to relax, The scourge of impostors, the terror of quacks; Come, all ye quack bards, and ye quacking
Come, and dance on the spot where your tyrant reclines.
* Vide page 60.
When satire and censure encircled his throne,
Macpherson write bombast, and call it a style, Our Townshend make speeches, and I shall compile ;
New Lauders and Bowers the Tweed shall cross over,
No countryman living their tricks to discover; Detection her taper shall quench to a spark, And Scotchman meet Scotchman and cheat in the dark.
Here lies David Garrick,T describe him who
An abridgement of all that was pleasant in
As an actor, confest without rival to shine :
The man had his failings, a dupe to his art.
*The Rev. Dr. Dodd.
Dr. Kenrick, who read Lectures at the Devil Tavern, under the title of The School of Shakespeare.' James Macpherson, Esq., who lately, from the mere force of his style, wrote down the first poet of all antiquity.
Vide page 61. ||60.
Like an ill-judged beauty, his colours he spread, And beplaster'd with rouge his own natural red.
On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting; 'Twas only that, when he was off, he was acting. With no reason on earth to go out of his way, He turn'd and he varied full ten times a-day; Though secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick
If they were not his own by finessing and trick; He cast off his friends as a huntsman his pack; For he knew, when he pleas'd he could whistle them back.
Of praise a mere glutton, he swallowed what
And the puff of a dunce he mistook it for fame;
What a commerce was yours, while you got and you gave !
* Vide page 64.
+ Mr. Hugh Kelly, author of False Delicacy, Word to the Wise, Clementina, School for Wives, &c. &c. Mr. W. Woodfall, printer of the Morning Chro
How did Grub-Street re-echo the shouts that you rais'd,
While he was be-Roscius'd, and you were beprais'd!
But peace to his spirit, wherever it flies,
Shall still be his flatterers, go where he will; Old Shakespeare receive him with praise and with love,
And Beaumonts and Bens be his Kellys* above. Here Hickey† reclines, a most blunt, pleasant creature,
And slander itself must allow him good-nature;
Perhaps you may ask if the man was a miser:
could he help it? a special attorney.
* Vide page 65.
+ Vide page 60.