WHAT! five long acts-and all to make us
Our Auth'refs fure has wanted an adviser.
Had the confulted me, fhe should have made
Her moral play a fpeaking masquerade;
Warm'd up each bustling fcene, and in her rage
Have emptied all the green-room on the stage.
My life on't, this had kept her play from finking;
Have pleas'd our eyes, and fav'd the pain of
thinking.
Well, fince the thus has fhewn her want of fkill,
What if I give a masquerade ?—I will.
But how? ay, there's the rub! [pausing]-I've
got my cue:
The world's a masquerade! the masquer's, you, [To boxes, pit and gallery.
Lud! what a group the motley scene discloses!
Falfe wits, falfe wives, falfe virgins and falfe fpoufes!
Statesmen with bridles on; and, close befide 'em,
Patriots in party-colour'd fuits that ride 'em,
There Hebes, turn'd of fifty, try once more
To raise a flame in Cupids of threefcore;