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At least, in many things, I think, I see
His lunar, and our mimic world agree.
Both shine at night-for, but at Foote's alone,
We scarce exhibit till the sun goes down;
Both prone to change, no settled limits fix,
And sure the folks of both are lunatics:
But, in this parallel, my best pretense is
That mortals visit both to find their senses.
To this strange spot, rakes, macaronies, cits,
Come thronging to collect their scatter'd wits:
The gay coquet, who ogles all the day,
Comes here at night, and goes a prude away;

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the epilogue which Colman declined to sanction. - Line 1. There is a place -so Ariosto sings. The poet alludes to the thirty-fourth canto of The Orlando Furioso. Ariosto, as translated by Mr. Stewart Rose, observes of the lunar world:

"There wilt thou find, if thou wilt thither post,
Whatever thou on earth beneath hast lost."

Astolpho undertakes the journey; discovers a portion of his own sense; and, in an ample flask, the lost wits of Orlando. Line 9. Both shine at night -- for, but at Foote's alone. Foote gave a morning rehearsal of Piety in pattens, an anti-sentimental piece, on the 6th of March, 1773. Line 22. Nancy Dawson: - a favorite air. Anstey attests its popularity; and Colman wrote a ballad to the same lively air.

Hither the affected city dame advancing,

Who sighs for operas, and dotes on dancing,

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Taught by our art her ridicule to pause on,
Quits the ballet, and calls for Nancy Dawson.
The gamester too, whose wits all high or low,
Oft risks his fortune on one desperate throw,

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Comes here to saunter, having made his bets,
Finds his lost senses out, and pays his debts;
The mohawk too-with angry phrases stor'd,
As "Dam'me sir," and "Sir, I wear a sword"-
Here lesson'd for a while, and hence retreating,
Goes out, affronts his man, and takes a beating:
Here come the sons of scandal and of
But find no sense- for they had none to lose.
Of all the tribe here wanting an adviser,
Our author's the least likely to grow wiser;
Has he not seen how you your favor place

news,

On sentimental queens and lords in lace?
Without a star, a coronet, or garter,

How can the piece expect or hope for quarter?
No high-life scenes, no sentiment—the creature
Still stoops among the low to copy nature:
Yes, he's far gone- and yet some pity fix;
The English laws forbid to punish lunatics.

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EPILOGUE

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SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER.'

WELL! having stoop'd to conquer with success, And gain'd a husband without aid from dressStill, as a bar-maid, I could wish it too,

As I have conquer'd him, to conquer you;
And let me say, for all your resolution,

That pretty bar-maids have done execution.

1 From She Stoops to Conquer, 1773.- This comedy was first acted at Covent-garden theater on the 15th of March, 1773. The epilogue, an obvious imitation of Shakspeare, was spoken by Mrs. Bulkley, who had personated Miss Hardcastle; and, as Tom Davies asserts, in a masterly style! Line 35. Bayes = a character in the celebrated Rehearsal of the Duke of Buckingham. The name had become synonymous with dramatist. Garrick had so used it; and Colman has this couplet:

"I am an author too— - my name is Bayes;

My trade is scribbling; my chief scribbling, plays."

Our life is all a play, compos'd to please;
We have our exits and our entrances.

The first act shows the simple country maid,
Harmless and young, of every thing afraid;
Blushes when hir'd, and with unmeaning action:
I hopes as how to give you satisfaction.
Her second act displays a livelier scene-
The unblushing bar-maid of a country inn,

Who whisks about the house, at market caters,
Talks loud, coquets the guests, and scolds the waiters.
Next the scene shifts to town, and there she soars.
The chop-house toast of ogling connoisseurs.
On 'squires and cits she there displays her arts,
And on the gridiron broils her lovers' hearts-
And as she smiles, her triumphs to complete,
Even common-councilmen forget to eat.

The fourth act shows her wedded to the 'squire,

And madam now begins to hold it higher;

Pretends to taste, at operas

cries caro,

And quits her Nancy Dawson for Che faro;
Doats upon dancing, and in all her pride,

Swims round the room, the Heinel of Cheapside;

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