PROLOGUÉ

TO

Z O B E I DE:

A TRAGEDY.

WRITTEN BY

JOSEPH CRADDOCK, Esq.

ACTED AT THE

THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN,

M.DCC.LXXII.

SPOKEN BY MR. QUICK.

IN these bold times; when Learning's sons explore
The distant climates, and the savage shore;
When wise astronomers to India steer,
And quit for Venus many a brighter here;

While botanists, all cold to smiles and dimpling,
Forsake the fair, and patiently-go simpling.
Our bard into the general spirit enters,
And fits his little frigate for adventures.
With Scythian stores, and trinkets deeply laden,
He this way steers his course, in hopes of trading-
Yet ere he lands he's order'd me before,
To make an observation on the shore.
Where are we driven ! our reckoning sure is lost!
This seems a rocky and a dangerous coast.
Lord, what a sultry climate am I under!
Yon ill foreboding cloud seems big with thunder :

[Upper Gallery There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen 'em

[Pit. Heretrees of stately size-and billingturtlesin’em

[Balconies. Here ill-conditioned oranges abound

[Stage. And apples, bitter apples strew the ground:

[Tasting them. The inhabitants are cannibals I fear : I heard a hissing—there are serpents here! 0, there the people are—best keep my distance; Our Captain (gentle natives) craves assistance; Ourship’swell stor'd-inyonder creek we'velaid her, His honour is 'no mercenary trader. This is his first adventure, lend him aid, And we may chance to drive a thriving trade.

a

His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from

far,
Equally fit for gallantry and war.
What, no reply to promises so ample?
I'd best step back—and order up a sample.

EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE

SPOKEN BY

MR. LEE LEWES,

IN THE CHARACTER OF HARLEQUIN, AT HIS

BENEFIT.

a

HOLD! Prompter, hold! a word before your

nonsense ;
I'd speak a word or two, to ease my conscience.
My pride forbids it ever should be said,
My heels eclips'd the honours of my head;

! That I found humour in a pyeball vest, Or ever thought that jumping was a jest.

[Takes off his mask. Whence, and what art thou, visionary birth? Nature disowns, and reason scorns thy mirth, In thy black aspect every passion sleeps, The joy that dimples, and the woe that weeps. . How hast thou fill’d the scene with all thy brood, Of fools pursuing, and of fools pursu'd ! Whose ins andouts no ray of sense discloses, Whose only plot it is to break our noses ;

Whilst from below the trap-door Demons rise,
And from above the dangling deities;
And shall I mix in this unhallow'd crew?
May rosin'd lightning blast me, if I do!
No--I will act, I'll vindicate the stage:
Shakspeare himself shall feel my tragic rage.

.
Off! off! vile trappings! a new passion reigns!
The madd’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. Aye,'twas but a dream, for now there's noretreating, 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," these drumstick

shanks, They never 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, astonished! to his view, Near, and inore near, the hounds and huntsmen drew; Hoicks! hark forward ! came thund'ring from be

hind, He bounds aloft, outstrips the fleeting wind:

a

Не