« FöregåendeFortsätt »
Lud! what a group the motley scene discloses ! False wit, false wives, false virgins, and false
spouses! Statesmen with bridles on; and, close beside them, Patriots in party-colour'd suits that ride them. There Hebes, turn’d of fifty, try once more To raise a flame in Cupids of threescore. These in their turn, with appetites as keen, Deserting fifty, fasten on fifteen. Miss, not yet full fifteen, with fire uncommon, Flings down her sampler, and takes up the woman; The little urchin smiles, and spreads her lure, And tries to kill, ere she's got power to cure. Thus 'tis with all-their chief and constant care Is to seem every thing but what they are. Yon broad, bold, angry spark, I fix my eye on, Who seems to’have robb’d his vizor from the lion; Who frowns and talks and swears with round
parade, Looking, as who should say, damme! who's afraid ?
[Mimicking. Strip but this vizor off, and sure I am You'll find his lionship a very lamb. Yon politician, famous in debate, Perhaps, to vulgar eyes, bestrides the state! Yet, when he deigns his real shape to' assume, He turns old woman, and bestrides a broom. Yon patriot too, who presses on your sight, And seems to every gazer all in white, If with a bribe his candour you attack, He bows, turns round, and whip—the man's inYon critic, too-but whither do I run ? [black ! If I proceed, our bard will be undone! Well, then, a truce, since she requests it too: Do you spare her, and I'll for once spare you.
MRS. BULKLEY AND MISS CATLEY.
Enter Mrs. Bulkley, who courtesies very low as
beginning to speak. Then enter Miss Catley, who stands full before her, and courtesies to the Audience.
Mrs. BULKLEY. HOLD, ma'am, your pardon. What's
What's your business here? Miss. CATL. The Epilogue. Mrs. Bulk. The Epilogue ? Miss. Catl. Yes, the Epilogue, my dear. Mrs. Bulk. Sure you mistake, ma'am. The
Epilogue? I bring it. Miss CATL. Excuse me, ma'am. The author bid me sing it.
RECITATIVE. Ye beaux and belles, that form this splendid ring, Suspend your conversation while I sing. MRs. Bulk. Why sure the girl's beside her
self: an Epilogue of singing,
Miss CATL. What if we leave it to the House?
And first I hope, you'll readily agree
whose trade is
RECITATIVE. Whomump their passion, and who, grimly smiling, Still thus address the fair, with voice beguiling.
Turn, my fairest, turn, if ever
aid must die.
[Da capo. MRS. Bulk. Let all the old pay homage to your
merit: Give me the
gay, the men of spirit. Ye travel'd tribe, ye macaroni train, Of French friseurs and nosegays justly vain, Who take a trip to Paris once a year To dress, and look like awkward Frenchmen here, Lend me
hands.-0, fatal news to tell, Their hands are only lent to the Heinelle. Miss CATL. Ay, take your travellers, travellers indeed!
[Tweed. Give me my bonny Scot, that travels from the
Where are the cheels! Ah, ah, I well discern The smiling looks of each bewitching bairn:
A bonny young lad is my Jockey.
I'll sing to amuse you by night and by day, And be unco merry when you are but gay; When you with your bagpipes are ready to play, My voice shall be ready to carol away
With Sandy, and Sawney, and Jockey,
With Sawney, and Jarvie, and Jockey. MRS. BULK. Ye gamesters, who, so eager in
pursuit, Make but of all your fortune one va toute: Ye jockey tribe, whose stock of words are few, • I hold the odds-Done, done, with you,with you:' Ye barristers so fluent with grimace, • My lord-your lordship misconceives the case: Doctors,who cough and answer every misfortuner,
I wish I'd been call'd in a little sooner:' Assist my cause with hands and voices hearty, Come end the contest here, and aid my party.
to the crack, Assist I
in this woful attack; For sure I don't wrong you, you seldom are slack, When the ladies are calling, to blush, and hang
Your hands and your voices for me,
MRS. BULK. Well, madam, what if, after all
this sparring, We both agree, like friends, to end our jarring! Miss CATL. And that our friendship may re
MRS. BULK. Agreed.
MRS. BULK. And now, with late repentance,
There is a place, so Ariosto sings,