In foft variegation I vied with the dove,

And reveal'd by my drefs the gradations of love.
Here is, firft, a cold brown-in this gown I was nice,
And repell'd my warm fwain with the chillness of ice;
But growing more foft, in this azure attire

I allow'd him with hope to enliven defire;

In this pale lilach luteftring he found me relent;
And this rofe-colour'd filk was the blush of confent.

O I ne'er shall forget

Gerrard (entering).

To receive Mr. Rumble?

Carey.

Would your Ladyship chufe

The Bard and his Mufe!'

L. Sophia. No, not for the wealth that's below the challe moon, Till I meet all the bards in the fable faloon :

By his fudden arrival I'm fadly confounded,

And fhould faint if he faw me with colours furrounded!
To Mifs Jafper's apartment away with this cheft ;-
Dear Frances, and Carey, pray wait on my guest,
Till my poor fhatter'd nerves are a little compos'd,
And the frefl-bleeding wound of my bofom is clos'd.
Stay, Gerrard.-If cards fhould be call'd for to-night,
Place the new japann'd tables alone in my fight;
For the pool of Quadrille fet the black-bugle difu,
And remember you bring us the ebony fifh.

[Exeunt Lady Sophia and Gerrard. Frances. What the deuce fhall I do with the wife of the Poet? She may ruin my fcheme, if the happen to know it:

She may pry

Carey.
Never fear it! I'll venture a wager
That the rhymes of her husband will fully engage her:
You have feen a proud Bantam crow over a pen,
Where a small egg has dropt from his favourite hen,
He crows, and he flutters, and ftruts round the yard:
So engrofs'd by her joy is the wife of a Bard;
And by fimilar bustle attention she begs,

And crows o'er her partner's poetical eggs.

But here come little Partlet and old Chanticleer.

Enter Mr. and Mrs. Rumble.

Carey. Mr. Rumble, I'm happy in feeing you here.

Mrs. Rumble,-Mifs Jafper;-you know, Ma'am, her brother— And you, Ladies, will foon be well known to each other.

Mr. Rumble. Though we meet in the houfe of refin'd lamentation,

In your prefence, I feel, Sir, fome exhilaration;

Since I in this spot as a stranger appear,

I rejoice in a friend who domefticates here.

My Lady is lodg'd in a fumptuous manfion,

And I'm pleas'd with her park's evanefcent expanfion;

As my wife has a tafte for the grand and ftupendous,

I am glad I complied with her wifh to attend us.

Mis Jafper. You have had, Ma'am, I hope, an agreeable ride; Our profpects are pleafant on every side,

And our roads are fo good

That you'll wonder to learn

I hope that no harm

Mrs. Rumble.
We were stopt on our way by an odd overturn.
Mifs Fafper. Indeed! you furprize me.
Has enfued from the accident, fave your alarm-
But how could it happen?

Mrs. Rumble.

Sometimes, on the road,

My dear Mr. Rumble compofes an ode;

For he fays, in fuch motion his fancy fhines moft;
And all true lyric poets, you know, travel post:
But a chaife-boy, alas! is a fad ignoramus;

And the poor honeft booby, whose blunder o'ercame us,
Miftook a Pindarical ejaculation

For a horrible, vulgar, profane execration,

And, turning to ftare at my dear Mr. Rumble,

Drove against a steep hillock, which gave us a tumble.

Mifs Fafper. A most cruel event! whence, I fear, we may lofe The unfortunate fruit of the terrified Muse:

'Twas indeed moft unlucky!

Mrs. Rumble.
Such a genius is not to be crush'd by a fall;
The accident brighten'd his fancy, and on it
He gallantly gave me an amorous fonnet.

Dear Ma'am, not at all:

As I know you love verfe

Mr. Rumble.

Mrs. Rumble, I vow

This difplay of my trifles I cannot allow;

You for ever mistake, to my endless vexation,

Gay Levity's fparkle for Wit's corrufcation.

Mrs. Rumble. Ah, you dear, modeft man! in a napkin you'd

hide

The talent my love must contemplate with pride;

As Mifs Jafper, I'm fure, is a lady of taste,

She thall fee fome fweet things that I pack'd up in hafte,

A few fatires and odes

[Takes out an enormous pocket-book fluff'd withpaper. As you dread my difpleasure,

Mr. Rumble.
Put up that red volume!
Mrs. Rumble.

What, bury my treasure!

Indeed I must read one fublime compofition.

Mr. Rumble. Mrs. Rumble! the part of a wife is fubmiffion.Silly woman! to whom for my fins I am yok'd,

With pulveriz'd gravel you almost are choak'd;

And, fatigu'd with vehicular dilaceration,

You would murder my verfes by rough recitation.

Mrs. Rumble. No, indeed; do but hear me one ftanza rehearfe;

'Tis my favorite ode.

Mr. Rumble.
To preferve my own temper from exacerbation,
I must thus stop your organs of vociferation.

As you grow fo perverfe,

[Lays his hand on her lips,

Mrs. Rumble. Well, my dear, I defer it to fome fitter time, And I kifs the, fweet hand that has written fuch rhyme.

Mifs Jafper. Your connubial obedience, dear Ma'am, I admire; But I'm fure your fatigues fome refrefliment require

Give me leave to attend you.

Mrs. Rumble.
It gives me concern
To trouble you, Ma'am; but I hope to return
Your obliging attention, fo kind and polite,

By a peep at a fatire which ne'er faw the light.

[Exit Mifs Jafper with Mrs. Rumble.

Carey. Mr. Rumble, you're bleft in an excellent wife,

That fuperlative prize in the lottery of life;

The vow of the altar fhe rifes above,

And adds admiration to duty and love.

Mr. Rumble. My wife has, I think, the right feminine nerve: Her fex was created to wonder and ferve;

As their minds have from nature no ponderous powers,

They have nothing to do but to venerate ours.

Carey. O fie! can you eftimate woman fo low?

To our fair female authors pray think what we owe.
Mr. Rumble. I cannot read one, Sir, without ofcitation :
They don't understand antithetic vibration;

Their ideas have nothing of height and profundity.
Their conceptions want vigor, their periods rotundity;
Their truth is too ftale, or too feeble their fiction,
And I cannot endure their anomalous diction:
But enough of these garrulous wafters of ink-
Her Ladyfhip likes my infcription, I think;
That lugubrious poem no critic fhall garble,"

And, I truft, you can fhew it me graven on marble.

Carey. It would please me to give you that pleasure, dear Sir; But, in truth, on this point there's a little demur,

Her Ladyfhip means to confult on the cafe.

Mr. Rumble. What, Sir! is my poem expos'd to disgrace?

Her critical quacks does this woman engage,

To flash my found verfe with empirical rage?

Carey. Believe me, good Sir, all the homage that's due

To poetical genius fhe offers to you;

But her Ladyfhip's love for Sir Simon is fuch,

She thinks that he cannot be honour'd too much;
And to give all his virtues their due celebration.
She from diverfe poetical pens of our nation

Has a cargo of epitaphs.

Mr. Rumble.

Hah is it fo!

Are there rivals to fhoot in Apollo's strong bow?

This fhould have been told me before ;-but no matter :
My concurrents, perhaps, may more lavishly flatter,
Yet in funeral fong they can't equal my tone;

Where Pope has mifcarried, I triumph alone.

Pray who are thefe Bards that with me are to cope?
Carey. I think you're acquainted with Facil and Trope.

Mr. Rumble. What, Facil! whofe verfe is the thread of tenuity,

That fellow distinguish'd by flippant fatuity,

Z 4

Who

Who nonfenfe and rhyme can inceffantly mingle,

A poet-if poetry's only a jingle.

Carey. Poor Facil wants force; yet may frequently pleafe By a light airy mixture of mirth and of cafe ;

But Trope's lofty mufe has a higher pretenfion.

Mr. Rumble. Sir! Trope is a rhymer devoid of invention, Who talks in a high ftrutting style of the ftars,

And the eagle of Jove, and the chariot of Mars;

And pompously tells, in elaborate lines,

That now the moon gliftens, and now the fun fhines.

Carey. How fevere, my good friend, are you Bards to each other! Yet if each would indulgently look on a brother,

For your general honour

Mr. Rumble.

I cannot agree

That thefe fellows have aught homogeneous with me;
To contend with fuch fcribblers I deem a difgrace,
And my dignity bids me abandon the place:
With her Ladyfhip's judgment I mean not to quarrel,
But thall leave her to crown any monkey with laurel.
Carey. Mr. Rumble! in points fo exceedingly nice
I do not prefume to obtrude my advice:
But allow me to mention, before you depart,
What may tend to encourage your liberal art.
Sir Simon, you know, had a paffion for fame,
And left a large fum to eternize his name

By fome structure of note; yet he never faid what :
So a grand Maufoleum is rais'd on this fpot,
At fo vaft an expence that my Lady, I find,

Has furpaft what the Knight for the building defign'd;
The fuperfluous coft, be it great as it may,
From her own private purfe fhe defigns to defray;
Though an annual fund by the will is adjusted,
With the guidance of which she is also entrusted;

But from this, as I hear, fhe has form'd an intention

To give the beft epitaph-writer a penfion.

Mr. Rumble. Has the fo!-'tis a gracious, effulgent defign;

I proteft of her judgment I highly opine.

Her face has been chiefly the fubject of praife;

But a fplendor of intellect now fhe displays,

I cannot abruptly depart from a fcene

Whofe miftrefs difcovers the mind of a queen,
Nor rudely defert, though my time is precarious,"

A lady whofe graces are fo multifarious:

But pray, left fome puppy fhould here circumvent me,
To her Ladyfhip can't you directly prefent me?

Though I fear, fince my fall, I am hardly fo clean as

A Bard fhould be feen by a female Mæcenas.

Carey. Never fear!-in your coat there is not fo much duft
As to blind the bright eye that to merit is just.

If you'll ftep in this room, which is call'd the Apollo,
And wait a few minutes, I'll fpeedily follow,

And

And acquaint you how foon we may hope for admiffion;-
My Lady loves form, in her present condition:
To amufe yourfelt there you'll, however, be able,
For you'll find all the epitaphs rang'd on the table.

Mr. Rumble. Are they fo!-it is well!-I indeed love to flash An inane poetafter's incongruous trash. [Exit. The length of the above quotation, and the confined limits of our plan, will not permit us to prefent our readers with any of the two laft acts of this pleafing comedy. We muft refer them, therefore, to the work itfelf, where they will find, not only in this, but in the two preceding comedies, frequent occafion to acknowledge the masterly hand of Mr. Hayley. The meafure which he has chofen, feemis well adapted to the genius of comedy. Its effect, however, might probably be more ftriking, if the ear was occafionally relieved by a change in the verfification. A protracted, uniformity, even in excellence, becomes fatiguing.

Of the two tragedies in this collection, we fhall exprefs our fentiments in our next review.

Art. XI. The Contrafi, a Political Pafticcio: or an Eftimate of the Coalition Miniftry With Recitative Cantatas, &c. chaunted, with Variations, in the Opera Houfe of St. Stephen. By Signor Carlo Reynardo, Signor Conte Federigo Aquilone, Signor Durcapo Cappelli, Signor Conte Giovanni, Imbrogliaconti, and Signor Edmondo Burchini, Irelandefe. 8vo. 1s. 6d. Egerton.

TH

HIS is a compilation of the fame kind with the larger pamphlet entitled, the beauties of Fox, North and Burke; and undoubtedly few periods of hiftory have furnished ampler materials for fuch a collection. There are, however, two questions upon the decision of which the validity of these productions, if we regard them in a ferious light, is fufpended. The firft, how far political fituation and circumstances may authorize the retractation of fome former opinions, and the commutation of old enmities for new friendships. He must be a judge of a very captious and fingular temper indeed, who would in no cafe admit of reconciliation where there had once been mifunderftanding, and union, where there once had been divifion. But if these changes are often commendable, they are not always fo. Decency, principle, and virtue, frequently forbid them; and it has been strongly argued, that the cafe of the celebrated coalition is one of thofe inftances of union, more to be deprecated than are faction and animofity. The fecond queftion is concerning the value of that kind of evidence, which is here brought forward againft these celebrated statesmen. The very beft account of debates, that ever was published,

or