EPILOGUE,

Spoken at the THEATRE ROYAL, DRURY-LANE, April 30, 1765.

By Mifs HOPKINS a Child of Six Years old, at the Benefit of Mr. HOPKINS, Prompter, and Mrs. HOPKINS.

Enter, Speaking to Mr. HOPKINS at the Stage Door. A Y-but I muft.-I muft, indeed, Papa! Pray, let me go! what fignifies Mama?

N

Coming forward Curtfies.

Your Servant, Gentlemen! your Servant, Ladies!
Papa's the Prompter-but to Act my Trade is :
And though my fize is fmall, my years but few,
I'll warrant, he shall find I know my Cue.

Females of ev'ry Age have leave to tattle;
Why may not I then, like my elders, prattle?
Mama indeed cries," Hufh, you little Elf!
"Prithee be filent!-I'll talk all myself."

-But

-But let her know, my Tongue as hers is nimble,
And I had rather ufe it than my Thimble;

Had rather goffip, fpeak a part, or wheedle,
Than darn, or wound my fingers with a needle.
A Sempftrefs? No. A Princefs let me be,
In all the pomp and ftate of Tragedy!
A Princess, with a Page, and sweeping Train,
A Bowl, a Dagger, and a Lover flain!

Oh how I'll rant! how loud I'll be, and glibber
Than Yates, or Pritchard, Bellamy, or Cibber!
If for the Buskin you object my fize,

Why Garrick's little-but has piercing Eyes.
And fo have I-But I'm too young you'll say.
Ah, Sirs! I fhall grow older ev'ry day:
And they that now my faint endeavours spare,
Mifs in her Teens fhall thank them for their care.

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE,

Spoken by Mr. SHUTER, at the Opening of the Old Theatre, at Richmond, on Saturday, June 6, 1767.

WELCOME, ye Generous, Polite, and Fair, Who to our lowly Roof this Night repair! Who come, invited by our humble Bill, To the Old Theatre on Richmond Hill; Where to those guests, whofe rafte not over-nice is, We serve up common fare-at common prices.

No Cornice here, no Frieze to feast your eyes, No Galleries on Dorick Pillars rife;

No gaudy Paintings on the Roof we deal in,

To break your Necks with looking tow'rds the Cieling;

No Theatre we boaft fuperbly built,

A Gingerbread Round O, a Cock-pit gilt;

But a plain Booth, of Boards ill put together,
To raise a Stage, and keep out Wind and Weather.

Yet

Yet here shall Heroes in their Bufkins talk, And Shakespeare's Ghofts in this small Circle walk; Here Tragedy fhall take three narrow Strides; And laughing Comedy hold both her Sides: Here shall the Moor fay" Haply for I am black !" And here plump Falstaff-"Give me a Cup of Sack,” Here Bobadill fhall don his dirty Buff,

And cry the Cabin is convenient enough."

Ovid (by those who read him I am told) Says, one Philemon feafted Jove of old: With Flitch of Bacon did the God regale, While Goody Baucis fill'd the Jug of Ale! -For Baucis and Philemon, 'tis well known, Were of those days the Darby and Old Joan.In Wicker-Chair well-pleas'd the Thunderer fat, Laugh'd, fung, drank, fmok'd, and join'd their ruftick chat:

The naked rafters view'd not with difdain,

Nor fat beneath the humble Thatch in pain.

J

Thus, while you deign to vifit our poor Cottage, And kindly tafte of our Dramatick Pottage,

We, all intent to fhew our Zeal and Love,
Shall each a Baucis or Philemon prove,

And every guest shall seem to us-a Jove!

}

PROLOGUE,

PROLOGUE,

Spoken by Mr. PoWELL at the clofing of the Theatre Royal, in Covent-Garden, on Saturday, June 4, 1768, being the Anniversary of His Majefty's Birth-Day.

L

ET us, ere yet we

finifh our career,

And close the labours of the circling year,

Due homage to our Royal Mafter pay,
And hail with Plaudits this aufpicious Day!
His Birth diftinguish'd this illuftrious Morn:
His Birth, who boafts HE WAS A BRITON BORN.

Tyrants, whofe vaffals tremble and obey,
Feel the poor triumphs of defpotick fway.
The hated Sov'reign, with imperious awe,
Iffues his Edicts, and proclaims them Law;
While Superftition, grim and favage Maid,
Rivets the cruel fetters Law has made.
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Empire