PROLOGUE

At the opening of the THEATRE ROYAL, HAY-MARKET, June, 1786.

L

Spoken by Mr. BENSLEY.

E SAGE, of life and manners no mean teacher, Draws an Archbishop, once a famous preacher ; Till apoplex'd at laft, his congregation

Smelt Apoplexy in each dull Oration.

Our Chief, alas, fince here we parted laft,
Has many a heavy hour of anguish past;
Meanwhile by Malice it was faid and written,
His mind and body both at once were smitten* ;
Yet now return'd in promifing condition,
Alive, in very spite of his Phyfician,

Again with rapture hails the generous town,
Sure that Misfortune never meets their Frown!

Fam'd Pafquin, his applauded predeceffor, 'Gainft Wit and Humour never a tranfgreffor,

* Alluding to a paragraph in the Publick Advertiser of November 4, 1785. This couplet, omitted at the Theatre, is here reftored, in order to prevent any mifapplication of the next line but one.

Still

Still cheer'd your vacant hour with jeft and whim,
When hapless chance depriv'd him of a limb:
But you who long enjoy'd the tree's full fhade,
Cherifh'd the Pollard, and were well repaid,
Shall then his Follower lefs your favour share,
Or rais'd by former kindness, now despair?
No! from your smiles deriving all his light,
Those genial beams fhall make his flame more bright.
Warm Gratitude for all your kindness past
Shall footh Disease, and charm Affliction's blaft:
By Reafon's twilight we may go aftray,
But honeft Nature fheds a purer ray;
While more by feeling than cold caution led,
The heart corrects the errors of the head.

Cheer'd by these hopes he banishes all fear,
And trufts at least, you'll find No Palfy here.

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

To the COMEDY of the DISBANDED OFFICER, or The BARONESS of BRUCHSAL,

Afted at the THEATRE ROYAL, HAY-MARKET,

Spoken by Mr. PALMER.
Auguft, 1786.

IN days of old, on Property and Trade,

Taxes and rates, unqualified, were laid: But modern politicks, with reins more lax, Comforts adminifter with every tax; Hold out Douceurs, by way of compenfation, And make the burthen light by Commutation. Tea's now a drug fo cheap, with draughts bewitching,

Imperial, Congou, Hyfon, charm the kitchen.

Bohea, like Bull's blood, in coarfe Delft ne'er feen,
Neat Wedgewood deals Souchong, or fineft Green;
Breakfast well over, we prepare to dine,

For which the ftate provides us genuine Wine!
Adultery, by Act of Parliament forbid,
No more in cellars and dark caves lies hid;

No

No more from Sloes found Port the Vintners drain,
No more from Turnip Juice brew brifk Champagne.

Ah, were our Plays thus wifely fupervis'd,
Humours and Paffions gag'd, and Plots excis'd,
What frauds would be unveil'd! Sophiftication,
Much contraband, and much adulteration!
Neat as imported is the conftant boast,

Though fmuggling fmacks and cutters croud the coaft.

At many a pilfer'd Scene you've cried and laugh'd, And oft, for Home-brew'd Balderdash have quaff'd. Plays from French Vineyards drawn have learnt to please,

Run, like Southampton Port, on Claret Lees; While the Bard cries, to fmuggling no great foe, "'Tis English, English, Sirs, from Top to Toe!"

To-night a new Advent'rer vents his Stock,

And brings you from the Rhine fome good Old Hock:

Waves but his wand-a true Dramatick Merlin-
Presto! you're charm'd from London-plac'd in
Berlin.

There lies our Scene To-night-an hour or two,
True Pruffians, we muft do as Pruffians do.

Our

Our goods, our habits, are of German growth;
Both fairly enter'd, and acknowledg'd both.
Leffing, a German Bard of high renown,
Long on the Continent has charm'd the town;
His Plays as much applauded at Vienna,
As here the School for Scandal, or Duenna.
From his bold outline draws our prefent Bayes,
And on his canvas English colours lays :
Rumbling and rough tho' Bruchfal's name appear,
Grating harth thunder on an English ear,
Yet he may charm; and prove ere fhe departs,
That Ladies with hard Names have tender Hearts.

PROLOGUE