Sidor som bilder

And thus the friendly goddess bids me greet ye; 'Tis in that circle [pointing to the Boxes) she de

signs to meet ye: Pedants would fix her residence with heathens, But she prefers old York to Rome or Athens.



FROM Shakspeare-Jonson-Congreve-Rowe

—and othersThe laurel'd list, the true Parnassian brothers ! Hither we're sent, by their supreme direction, To court your favour, and to claim protection. Our hopes are flatter'd with the Fair's com

pliance; Beauty and Wit were always in alliance! Their mutual sway reforms the rude creation, And Taste's determined by their approbation.

The tragic Muse presents a stately mirror, Where Vice surveys her ugly form with terror: And as the fiend departs-abash'd-discardedImperial Virtue's with the palm rewarded. The comic glass, from modern groups collected, Shows fops and fools of every class—dissected: It marks the fair coquette's unfaithful dealings, And proves that haughty prudes may have their Now for our bark—the vessel's tight and able ! New built!-new rigg'd [Pointing to the Scenes)

failings. For faults that flow from habit more than nature, We'll blend with honest mirth some wholesome


with canvass, mast, and cable! Let her not sink-or be unkindly stranded, Before the moral freight be fairly landed! For though with heart and hand we heave together,

[ther: 'Tis your kind plaudit must command the weaNor halcyon seas, nor gentle gales attend us, Till this fair circle with their smiles befriend us.


OPENING OF THE SAME THEATRE. O’ER the wild waves, unwilling more to roam, And by his kind affections call'd for home; When the bold youth that every climate tries 'Twixt the blue bosoms-'twixt the seas and

skiesWhen he beholds his native Albion near, And the glad gale gives wings to his career, What glowing ecstasies, by Fancy dress’d, What filial sentiments expand his breast! In the full happiness he forms on shore, Doubts-dangers--and fatigues are felt no more.

Such are the joys that in our bosoms burn! Such the glad hopes that glow at our return! With such warm ardours you behold us meet, To lay, once more, our labours at


feet. (Not without hopes your patronage will last) We bend with gratitude for favours past. That our light bark defied the rage

of winter, Rode every gale--nor started e’en a splinter;


We bow to Beauty-('twas those smiles secured her)

[her. And thank our patrons who so kindly moor’d Still-still-extend your gentle cares to save her, That she may anchor long in Whitby's—favour.




[Without. Hollo! my masters, whered'ye mean to stow us? We're come to see what pastime ye can show us; Sal, step aloft--you shan't be long without me, I'll walk their quarter deck and look about me.

[Enters. Tom and Dick Topsail are above-I hear them, Tell them to keep a birth, and Sal—sit near them: Sal's a smart lass—I'd hold a butt of stingo, In three weeks' time she'd learn the playhouse lingo:

[meaning, She loves your plays, she understands their She calls them-Moral Rules made entertaining : Your Shakspeare books, she knows them to a

tittle; And I myself, at sea, have read—a little.

At London, sirs, when Sal and I were courting, I tow'd her every night a playhouse sporting: Mass! I could like them and their whole’Paratus, But for their fiddlers and their damn'd Sonatas; Give me the merry sons of guts and rosin, That play— God save the King,' and · Nancy


[Looking about. Well—though the frigate's not so much be

dizen'd, 'Tis snug enough—'tis clever for the size on't: And they can treat with all that's worth regarding On board the Drury Lane or Common Garden.

[Bell rings. Avast!-a signal for the launch, I fancy: What say you' Sam and Dick and Doll and

Nancy? Since they have trimm'd the pleasure barge so

tightly, Shan't you and I and Sal come see them nightly? The jolly crew will do their best endeavours, They'll grudge no labour to deserve your favours: A luckier fate they swear can ne'er behap them Than to behold you pleased, and hear you clap




[Entering. WHERE is this author ?-bid the wretch appear, Let him come in, and wait for judgment—here. This awful jury, all impatient, wait; Let him come in, I say, and meet his fate! Strange, very strange, if such a piece succeeds! (Punish the culprit for his vile misdeeds) Know ye to-night, that his presumptuous works Have turn’d good Christians into - Heathen Turks?

1 To the Gallery.

And if the genius an't corrected soon,
In his next trip, he'll mount us to the moon.

Methinks I hear him say—' For mercy's sake, Hold your rash tongue-my Love and Fame's

at stake; When

behold me-

-diffident-distress'd! "Tis cruelty to make my woes a jest: Well-if you will—but why should I distrust? My judges are as merciful as just; I know them well, have oft their friendship tried, And their protection is my boast-my pride!

Hoping to please, he form’d this bustling plan; Hoping to please! 'tis all the moderns can: Faith! let him scape, let Love and Fame survive, With

your kind sanction keep his scenes aliye; Try to approve (applaud we will exempt), Nor crush the bardling in this hard attempt. Could be write up to an illustrious theme, There's mark'd upon the register of Fame A subject—but beyond the warmest lays! Wonder must paint, when 'tis a Granby's praise.



1766. If to correct the follies of mankind, To mend the morals—to enlarge the mind, To strip the self-deceiving passions bare, With honest mirth to kill an evening's care; If these kind motives can command applause, For these the motley stage her curtain draws.

Does not the poet that exists by praise, Like to be told that he has reach'd the bays?

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