Off! off! vile trappings! a new passion reigns!
The mad'ning monarch revels in my veins.
Oh! for a Richard's voice to catch the theme:
Give me another horse! bind up my wounds!-
soft-'twas but a dream.
Ay,'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating;
If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating.
'Twas thus that Æsop's stag, a creature blameless, Yet something vain, like one that shall be nameless, Once on the margin of a fountain stood,
And cavill'd at his image in the flood, "The deuce confound," he cries,
They neither have my gratitude nor thanks:
They're perfectly disgraceful! strike me dead!
But for a head-yes, yes, I have a head.
How piercing is that eye! how sleek that brow!
My horns!-I'm told horns are the fashion now."
Whilst thus he spoke, astonish'd to bis view,
Near, and more near, the hounds and huntsmen
drew.
Hoicks! hark forward! came thund'ring from behind,
He bounds aloft, outstrips the fleeting wind:
He quits the woods, and tries the beaten ways;
He starts, he pants, he takes the circling maze.
At length his silly head, so priz'd before,
Is taught his former folly to deplore ;
Whilst his strong limbs conspire to set him free,
And at one bound he saves himself, like me.
[Taking a jump through the Stage Door.
MRS. CHARLOTTE LENOX'S COMEDY OF "THE SISTER."
WHAT! five long acts-and all to make us wiser !
Our authoress sure has wanted an adviser.
Had she consulted me, she would have made
Her moral play a speaking masquerade;
Warm'd up each bustling scene, and in her rage
Have emptied all the green-room on the stage.
My life on't, this had kept her play from sinking;
Have pleas'd our eyes, and sav'd the pain of think-
ing.
Well, since she thus has shown her want of skill,
What if I give a masquerade :-I will. [my cue:
But how? ay, there's the rub! [pausing]—Iv'e got
The world's a masquerade! the maskers, you, you,
you,
(To Boxes, Pit, and Gallery.
Lud! what a groupe the motley scene discloses
False wit, false wives, false virgins, and false
spouses!
Statesmen with bridles on; and close beside 'em,
Patriots in party-colour'd suits that ride 'em,
There Hebes, turn'd of fifty, try once more
To raise a flame in Cupids of threescore.
These in their turn, with appetites as keen,
Deserting fifty, fasten on fifteen.
Miss, not yet full fifteen, with fire uncommon,
Flings down her sampler, and takes up the woman;
The little urchin smiles, and spreads her lure,
And tries to kill, ere she's got pow'r to cure.
Thus 'tis with all-their chief and constant care
Is to seem every thing but what they are.
Yon broad, bold, angry spark, I fix my eye on,
Who seems t' have robb'd his visor from the lion;
Who frowns, and talks, and swears, with round
parade,
Looking, as who should say, damme! who's afraid? [Mimicking.
Strip but this visor off, and sure I am
You'll find his lionship a very lamb.
Yon politician, famous in debate,
Perhaps to vulgar eyes, bestrides the state!
Yet when he designs his real shape t' assume,
He turns old woman, and bestrides a broom.
Yon patriot, too, who presses on your sight,
And seems to every gazer all in white,
If with a bribe his candour you attack,
He bows, turns round, and whip-the man's in
black!
Yon critic, too-but whether do I run !
If I proceed, our bard will be undone !
Well, then, a truce since she requests it too :
Do you spare her, and I'll for once spare you.
MRS. BULKLEY AND MISS CATLEY.
Enter Mrs. Bulkley, who curtsies very low as begins ning to speak. Then enter Miss Catley, who stands full before her, and curtsies to the Audience.
HOLD, ma'am, your pardon. What's your business here?
Sure you mistake, ma'am. The Epilogue? I bring it.
Excuse me, ma'am. The author bid me sing it.
ebeaus and belles, that from this splendid ring, spend your conversation while I sing.
Why sure the girl's beside herself: an Epilogue of singing,
hopeful end indeed to such a blest beginning. esides, a singer in a comic set!
xcuse me, ma'am ; I know the etiquette.
ad she, whose party's largest, shall proceed.
d first I hope, you'll readily agree
e all the critics and the wits for me.
aey, I am sure, will answer my commands;
candid judging few, hold up your hands;
hat, no return? I find too late, I fear,
at modern judges seldom enter here.
a for a different set-Old men, whose trade is l to gallant and dangle with the ladies.
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