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Ladies, prepare, arm well your brows and eyes,
From those your thunder, these your lightning fies,
Should storms be riding in the Pit-look down,
And still the waves thus, fair ones, with a frown:
Or thould the Galleries for war declare ;
Look up-your eyes will carry twice as far.
• Our Bard, to noble triumphs points your way,
Bids you in moral principles be gay;
Something he'd alter in your education,
Something which hurting you, would hurt a nation:
Ingenuous notures with you to reclaim ?
By imiling virtue you'll insure your aim :
That gilds with bliss the matrimonial hours,
And blends her laurels with the sweetest Aowers.
Ye married fair ! deign to attend our school,
And without ufurpa.ion learn to rule :
Soon will he ceale mean objects to pursue,
In conscience wretched till he lives to you ;
Your charms will reformation's pain beguile,
And vice receive a stab from every smile.
P I L OG U E
LOVE'S LAST SHIFT:
LADY IN FASHIO N.,
Spoken by Miss Cross in the Character of Cupid.
ow, gallants, for the Author. First, to you
Kind City Gentlemen o'ch' Middle Row; He hopes you nothing to his charge can lay', There's not a cuckold made in all his play. Nay, you must own, if you believe your eyes, He draws his pen against your enemies : For he declares, to-day he merely strives To maul the Beaux -because they maul your Wiveso,
Nor, Sirs, To you whose sole religion's drinking, Whoring; roaring, without the pain of thinking,
• The Conclusion of the Prologue from this line is by a.10. ther hand.
He fears he's made a fault you'll ne'er forgive,
A crime beyond the hopes of a reprieve :
An honeft rake forego the joys of life,
His whores and wine, tembrace a dull chaste wife!
Such out-of-fashion stuff! But then again,
He's lewd for above four acts, Gentlemen.
For faith, he knew, when once he'd change his fortune,
And reform’d his vice, 'twas timc-o drop the curtain,
foar acts for your coarse palates were design’d,
But then the Ladies raste is more refind;
They, for Amanda's fake, will fure be kind.
Pray let this figure once your pity move:
refiit the pleasing God of Love ??
In vain my pray'ts the other fex pursue,
Unless your conqu’ring finiles their ftubborn hearts subdue.
Ε Ρ Ι L
P I O GUE,
Spoken at the Theatre. Rosal in Drury-Lane, April 30,
1765, by Mifs Hopkins, a Child of fix Years old, at
the Benefit of Mr. Hopkins, Prompter, and Mrs.
(Enter, Speaking to Mr. Hopkins at the Stage Door.]
AY-but I muft-I must, indeed, papa!
Pray, let me go !--what signifies mama ?
Coming forwards, curtfegi.
Your servant, gentlemen !-Your servant ladies!
Papa's the Prompter-but to ad my trade is :
And though my fize is small, my years but few,
I'll warrant, he shall find I know my Cue.
Females of ev'ry age have leave to tactle :
Why may not I then, like my elders, prattle ?
Mamma indeed cries, “ Hush, you little elf!
“ Prithee, be filent !-I'll talk all myself."
-But let her know, my tongue as her's is nimble,
And I had rather use it than my thimble;
Had rather gollip, speak a part, or wheedle,
Than darn, or wound my fingers with a needle,
A Sempitress ? No. A Princess let me be,
In all the pomp and state of tragedy !
A Princess, with a page, and sweeping train,
A bowl, a dagger, and a lover lain !
O, how I'll rant! how loud I'll be ! and glibber
Than Yates, or Pritchard, Bellamy, or Gibber?
If for the Bukin you object my Siz?,
Why Garrick's little-buc has piercing eyes.
And so have 1-But I'm too young, you'll say.
Ah, Sirs ! I shall grow oluer ev'ry day :
And they that now my
nt endeavours spare, Miss in ber teens shall thank them for their care.
WRITTEN BY COLLY CIBBER, ESQ:
Spoken by Mrs. RafroR.
UR Author's sure bewitch'd! The senseless Rogu:
Insists no good play wants an Epilogue.
Suppose that crue, said 1, what's that to this?
Is yours a good one? -No, buc Moliere's is,
He cry'd, And zou <s! no Epilogue was tack'd to his.
Besides, your modorn Epilogues, said he,
Are but ragouts of smuc and ribaldry.
Where the false jests are dwindled to lo few,
'There's scarce one double Entendre left that's new.
Nor wou'd I in that lovely circle mise
One blush, to gain a thousand Coxcombs praise.
Then for the thread-bare joke of Cit and Wii,
Whose fore-known rhyme is echo'd from the l'it,
Till of their laugh the Galleries are bit.
Then to reproach thè. Criticks with ill-nature,
And charge their malice to his ftinging fatyr:
And thence appealing to the nicer Boxes,
Tho' talking jiuf might dash the Drury Doxes.
If these, he cry'd, the choice ingredients be
For Epilogues, they shall have none for me.
Lord, Sir, says I ; the Gallery will so bawl ;.
Let 'em, he cry'd, a bad one's worse than none at ali.
Madam, these things than you I am more expert in,
Nor do I see no Epilogue much hurt in,
Zounds ! when the Play is ended-drop the Cartain.
C I TI Z E . N. Spoken by Mr. SHuter and Mr. WOODWARD, in the Characters of Old Philpot and Young Philpot.
H! George, George, George! 'tis such rakes as you,
Who bring vile jokes and foul dishonour too
Upon our city youth. Gro.
'Tis very true. Faib. St. James's end o' th’ town, Geo.
No place for me.
Fash. Nj, trulyno their manners disagree
With ours intirely-yet you there must run
iheir follies, Geo.
And so am undone. t'ash. There you all learn a vanity in vice,
You turn mere fops, you game-.
O, damn the dice!
Fath. Bubb!d at play,
By ev'ry common cheat. Geo. Ay! here's too witnesses [Pulling out bis pockets. Farb.
You get well beat. Geo. A witness too of that I pews his brad) and there's another.
[To Young Wilding, Farb. You dare to give affronts, Geo.
Zounds, such a pother ! l'arb. Affronts to gentlemen! Geo.
'Twas a rash action. Faib. Damn me, you lie; I give you satisfaction.
[mimicking: Drawn in by ftrumpets-and detected too ! Gro. That's a sad thing, Sir! I'll be judg'd by you.
Fath. The dog he has me there,
Think you it right?
Under a table.
Miserable plight! Gå. For grave threescore to fculk with trembling knees,
And envy every lover whom he fees !
Think you it fitting thus abroad to roam ?
Farb. Would I had staid to calt accounts at home ;
Geo. Ay; there's another vice.
Sirrah, give o'er,
Geo. You brood for ever-o'er your most lov'd store,
And scraping cent. per cent. ftill pine for more.
At Jonathan's, where millions are undone,
Now cheat a nation, and now cheat your fon. .
Fatb. Rascal, enough!
I could add, but am loth. . Farh. Enough!--this jury will condemn us both.
[To the audience. . Gu. Then to the court we'd better make submislijn:
Ladies and Gentlemen, with true contrition,
I here repent my faults : -ye courtly train,
Farewell! farewell, ye giddy and ye vain !
I now take up-forsake the gay and witty,
To live, henceforth, a credit to the city,
Fath. You see me here, quite cover'd o'er with shame; ;
I hate long speeches—but I'll do the same.
Come, George-to mend is all the belt can boast. . Gro. Then let os in, .. Farb.
And this shall be our toast,“ May Britain's thun ter on her foes be hurid, Geo. And London prove the market of the world.
To THE SPANISH B A R BER2.
WRITTEN BY MR. COLMAN,
Spoken by Mr. PARSONS.
NCE more from Ludgate-hill behold Paul Prig!'