Elegant Extracts

Now view their stock, now in their nursery prattle,f" Hey! Prefto! pafs !"---all topsy-turvy fee,
For ever with their children or their cattle.
Like the dull mill-horse in one round they keep;
They walk, talk, fondle, dine, and fall afleep;
"Their custom always in the afternoon-"
He bright as Sol, and the the chafte full moon!
Wak'd with her coffee, Madum first begins,
She rubs her eyes, his lordship rubs his fains;
She fips and imirks---" Next week 's our wed-
ding-day,

"Married feven years!---and ev'ry hour more
gay "
[Yawns.
"True, Emmy," cries my lord, "the blefling
lies,

Our hearts in ev'ry thing fo fympathize!"

The day thus fpent, my lord for mufic calls;
He thrums the bafe, to which my lady fqualls;

For ho, ho, ho!" is chang'd to "he, he, he!"
We own'd the fault, but 'tis a fault in vogue;
'Tis theirs who call and bawl for---Epilogue t
O, fhame upon you !---for the time to come,
Know better, and go miferable home.
What fays our comic goddess?--- With reproaches,
She vows her fifter tragedy encroaches!
And, fpite of all her virtue and ambition,
Is known to have an amorous difpofition!
For in Falfe Delicacy---wondrous fly,
Join'd with a certain Irishman---O fie!
She made you, when you ought to laugh, to cry.
Her fifter's fmiles with tears the tried to fmother,
Rais'd fuch a tragi-comic kind of pother,
You laugh'd with one eye, while you cried
with t'other.

What can be done?---fad work behind the scenes!

The children join, which to delight thefe nin-There comic females fcold with tragic queens;

nies,

certain;

I'll only take a peep behind the curtain:
You're all to full of tragedy and faduefs,
For me to come among you, would be madness!
This is no time for giggling---when you 've ici-
fure,

Call out for me, and I'll attend your pleafure;
As foldiers hurry at the beat of drum,
Beat but your hands, that inftant I will come.
[She enters upon their clapping.
This is fo good! to call me out fo foon---
The Comic Mufe by me entreats a boon;
She call'd for Pritchard, her fi:ft maid of honour,
And begg'd of her to take the task upon her;
But fhe, I'm fure you'll all be forry for't,
Refigus her place, and foon retires from court:
To bear this lofs we courtiers make a fhift,
When good folks leave us, worfe may have a lift.
The Comic Mufe,whofe ev'ry fimile is grace,
And her ftage fitter, with her tragic face,
Have had a quarrel-each has writ a cafe;
And on their friends atlembled now I wait,
To give you of their diff'rence a true ftate.
Melpomene complains, when the appears,
For five good acts, in all her pomp of tears,
To raife your fouls, and with your raptures wing
'em,
['em---
Nay, wet your handkerchiefs, that you may wring
Some flippant huffey, like myfelf, comes in;
Crack goes her fan, and with a giggling grin,

}

Each party diff'rent ways the foe affails,
Thefe shake the daggers, thofe prepare their nails.
'Tis you alone mult calm thefe dire mishaps,
Or we fhall ftill continue pulling caps.
What is your will ?---I read it in your faces,
That all hereafter take their proper places,
Shake hands, and kifs, and friends, and burn
their cafes.

}

THE curtain dropt---my mimic life is paft,

That fcene of ileep and terror was my last.
Could I in fuch a fcene my exit make,
When ev'ry real feeling is awake?
Which beating here, fuperior to all art,
Burts in full tides from a moft grateful heart.
I now appear my felf, diftrefs'd, difimay'd,
More than in all the characters I've play'd;
In acted paffion, tears may SLEM to flow,
"But I have that within that paffeth fhow."

Before I go, and this lov'd spot forfake,
What gratitude can give, my wishes, take:
Upon your hearts may no affliction prey,
Which cannot by the ftage be chas'd away;
And may the ftage, to picafe each virtuous mind,
Grow ev'ry day more moral, more rehn'd,
Refin'd from groffnefs, not by foreign skill:
Weed out the poifon, but be English still!

To all my brethren whom I leave behind,
Still may your bounty, as to me, be kind;
To me for many years your favours flow'd,
Humbly receiv'd---on finall desert Leftow'd':
For which I feel-what cannot be exprefs'd---
Words are tooweak---my tears must speak the reft.

$76. Prologue to the Good-natured-Man; 1768.
JOHNSON.
PREST by the load of life, the weary mind
Surveys the gen'ral toil of human kind,
With cool fubmillion joins the lab`ring train,,
And focial forrow lofes half its pain;

Our anxious bard without complaint may share
This bustling feafon's epidemic care;
Like Cæfar's pilot dignified by fate,
Tott in one common ftorm with all the great;
Diftreft alike the ftatefman and the wit,
When one a Borough courts, and one the Pit.
The bufy candidates for power and fame
Have hopes, and fears, and withes juft the fame;
Difabled both to combat, or to fly,

Muft hear all taunts, and hear without reply.
Uncheck'd on both loud rabbies vent their rage,
As mongrels bay the lion in a cage.
Th' offended burgefs hoards his angry tale,
For that bleft year when all that vote may rail;
Their fchemes of fpite the poet's focs dimifs,
Till that glad night when all that hate may hifs.
"This day the powder'd curls and golden coat,"
Says fwelling Crilpin,“ begg'd a couler's vote;"
"This night our wit," the pert apprentice cries,
"Lies at my feet; I hifs him, and he dies."
The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe;
The bard may fupplicate, but cannot bribe.
Yet judg'd by thofe whofe voices ne'er were fold,
He feels no want of all-perfuading gold;
But confident of praife, if praife be due,
Trufts without fear to merit and to you.

77. Prologue to Falle Delicacy; 1768. by Mr. King.

-that's worse

Spoken

GARRICK.

I'M vex'd-quite vex'd--and you'll be vex'd
[curfe.
To deal with ftubborn fcribblers-there's the
Write moral plays-the blockhead!--why, good
people,

You'll foon expect this houfe to wear a steeple'
For our fine piece, to let you into facts,
Is quite a fermon-only preach'd in acts.
You'll fcarce believe me, till the proof appears;
But even I, Tom Fool, muft thed fome tears:
Do, ladies, look upon me-nay, no fimpering;
Think you this face was ever made forwhimp ring?
Can I a cambric handkerchief display,
Thump my unfeeling breaft, and roar away?
Why this is comical, perhaps you 'il fay.
Refolving this ftrange awkward bard to pump,
I afk'd him what he meant ?-He, fomewhat
plump,

}

Thus did he prance and fwell.-The man may prate,

And feed thefe whimfies in his addle pate,
That you'll protect his Mufe because the 's good:
A virgin, and fo chafte!-O lud! O lud!
No Mufe the critic beadle's lafh escapes;
Though virtuous, if a dowdy and a trapes:
If his come forth a decent likely lafs,
You'll speak her fair, and grant the proper pass:
Or fhould his brain be turn'd with wild pretences,
In three hours time you'll bring him to his fenfes;
And well you may, when in your pow'r you get
him;

him.

In that fhort space, you blifter, bleed, and sweat Among the Turks, indeed, he 'd run no danger; They facred hold a madman and a stranger.

jokes,

From the rareft of fhows, and most wonderful
[clare,
Your fimple acquaintance, Scrub, comes to de-
'Twas fuller, by far, than our Lichfield great fair;
Such crowds of fine ladies, ferenading and finging,
Such firing of loud patereroes, and ringing--
To tell it in London, muft seem all a fable;
And y.t I will tell it---as well as I'm able.
First, fomething, in lingo of fchools call'd an ode;
All critics, they told me, allow'd very good :
One faid---you may take it for truth, I affure ye,
'Twas made by the little great man of old Drury,
By my brother Martin (for whofe fake, d've hear1)
This night I'd a mind for a touch at Shakspeare `;
But, honeftly fpeaking, I take more delight in
A bit of good fun, than drums, trumpets, and
fighting.

The proceffion, 't was faid, would have been a
fine train,
[rain!
But could not move forward.--O la !---for the
Such tragical, comical folks, and fo fine-
What pity it was that the fun did not thine!
Since ladies, and baronets, aldermen, 'fquires,
All went to this Jubilee full of defires,

In crowds, as they go for to fee a new play;
And when it was done---why, they all came

away!

New purs'd his belly, and his lips thus biting-Don't let me forget---a main part of the show, "I must keep up the dignity of writing '''"You may; but if you do, Sir, I must tell ye, "You'll not keep up that dignity of belly." Still he preach'd on-" Bards of a former age "Held up abandon'd pictures on the itage; Spread out their wit, with fafcinating art, And catch'd the fancy, to corrupt the heart: But, happy change; in thefe more moral days, "You cannot fport with virtue, even in plays; "On virtue's fide his pen the poet draws,

And boldly afks a hearing for his caufe."

Was long-tail'd fine comets, by fam'd Angelo.
Some turtle I got, which they call pafbapče;
But honeft roast beef 's the best turtle for me.
I hate all ragouts; and, like a bold Briton,
Prefer good plum pudding to aught I e'er bit on.
I drank too (ard now I a poet may be)
From a charming fine cup of the mulberry tree.
To bed 1 muft go---for which, like a nirny,
I paid, like my betters, no less than a guinea,
For rolling---not fleeping---in linen fo damp,
As ftruck my great toe, ever fince, with the cramp,

This alludes to Mr. Wefton's defign of playing Richard.

§19. Prologue to Doctor Laft in bis Chariot; 1769.
Spoken by Mr. Foote. GARRICK.

YOUR fervant, kind mafters, from bottom to top.
Be affur'd, while I breathe, or can ftand---1
mean, hop;

Be you pleafed to fmile, or be pleafed to grumble, so. Epilogue to the Duellift; 1773. Spoken by
Be whatever you pleafe, I am fill your moft

humble.

As to laugh is a right only given to man,

To keep up that right is my pride and my plan.
Fair ladies, don't frown; I meant woman too:
What 's common to man, must be common to

you.

Mifs Barfanti.

men of valour! you diflike our play: Nothing against it do the ladies fay.

To own they 're pleas'd the critics ever loth,
Mutter, "A Duellift, with fcarce an oath !
'Tis like his hat that was without a feather;
You all have a right your fweet mufcles to curl," Duels and Dammes always go together.'
From the old fmirking prude to the titt 'ring young Old finners, loving the licentious joke, [ftroke;
girl;
May think there wants too, here and there, a
Round oaths and double meanings ftrew'd between,
With them the virtues of the comic scene.
And yet the town in gen'ral is fo nice,
It holds thefe virtues as a kind of vice:
From the teeth outwards chafte, their hands be-
fore 'em,

And ever with pleasure my brains I could fpin,
To make you all giggle, and you, ye gods, grin.
In this prefent fummer, as well as the past,
To your favour again we prefent Dr. Laft,
Who, by wonderful feats, in the papers recounted,
From trudging on foot to his chariot is mounted.
Amongst the old Britons when war was begun,Like reps, even demi-reps, are all decorum. [ing,
Charioteers would flay ten, while the foot could Tho' grofs their thoughts, fo delicate their hear-
They think the very stage fhould fine for fwearing.
Our author therefore fcrupled to employ
Your vulgar Damme, Sir! and Damme, boy!
Nay, when by chance a naughty joke came pat in,
He wrapt it up, you know, in lawyers Latin.
So much refin'd the fcene fince former days,
When Congreve, Vanburgh, Wycherly, wrote
plays,

flay one.
[fent,
So when doctors on wheels with dispatches are
Morality bills rife a thousand per cent.
But think not to phyfic that quackery 's confin'd;
All the world is a ftage, and the quacks are man

kind:

There's trade, law, and state quacks; nay, would
we but fearch,

We fhould find---Heaven blef's us!---fome quacks
in the church !

The fiff-band and stiff-bob of the Methodist race,
Give the balfam of life and the tincture of grace;
And their poor wretched patients think much
good is done 'em,

Tho' blifters and cauftics are ever upon 'em.
As for laws and the state, if quackery 's a curfe,
Which will make the good bad, and the bad will
make worse,

We fhould point out the quack from the regular
brother;
[other!
They are wiler than I who can tell one from t'

The itage fo loofely did Aftrea tread,
"She fairly put all characters to bed."
Tho' now no bard would venture to depofit
A macaroni in a lady's clofet;

Left the frail fair-one he be thought to ruin,
"While moon and ftars alone" fee what they're
doing.

In the old plays, gallants take no denial,
But put the struggling actress to the trial.
Blefs me! I fhudder even now to think,
How near myself may come to danger's brink!
In modern plays more safe the female station,
Secure as our fad folemn situation!
3 R4

No rakish forward fpark dares now be rude,
The Comic Mufe herfelf grown quite a prude!
No wonder, then, if in fo pure an age
No Congreves write for as demure a stage!

$81. Prologue to the School for Rakes; 1774 Spoken by Mr. King. GARRICK.

}

THE fcribbling gentry, ever frank and free,
To fweep the ftage with prologues, fix on me.
A female reprefentative I come,
And with a prologue, which I call a broom,
To fweep the critic cobwebs from the room.
Critics, like fpiders, into corners creep,
And at new plays their bloody revels keep:
With fome fmall venom clofe in ambush lie,
Ready to feize the poor dramatic fly:

The weak and heedlefsfoon become their prey,
But the strong blue-bottle will force its way,
Clean well its wings, and hun another day.
Unknown to nature's laws, we've here one evil;
For flies, turn'd spiders, play the very devil!
Fearing fome danger, I will lay before ye
A fhort, true, recent, tragi-comic ftory.

As late I faunter'd in the Park for air,
As free from thought as any coxcomb there,
Two fparks came up; one whisper 'd in my car,
He was a critic; then afk'd me, with a fneer---
Thus ftanding, faring---with a swaggering.

fwing,

"You've writ a farce!"--"Yes, Sir, a foolish "thing."

"Damn'd foolish---You 'd better mind your
"acting, King.

"'Tis ten to one---I fpeak it for your fake,
"That this fame farce will prove---your Wit's
"laft Stake."-

"I fcribble for amufement, boaft no pow'rs.'
Right, for your own amusement---not for ours.'
Thus he went on; and with his pleafant talking,
I loft the appetite I got with walking.
He laugh'd---I bow'd---but, ere I could retreat,
His lifping friend did thus the dofe repeat:
"Pray, Sir,---this School for Rakes---the wo-
man's play-

[Tom;
I'm a waiter, your honours; you know bustling
Till fupper is ready, I'll tell you a ftory.
Who, proud of your orders, and bowing before ye,

'Twixt Hounslow and Colnbrooke, two houses
of fame,
[hy name:
Well known on that road, the Two Magpyes
The one of long ftanding, the other a new one;
This boafts it 's the old one, and that it's the true

A Jubilee punch, which, right fkilfully made,
Infur'd the old Magpye a good running trade:
But think you we mean to monopolize?---No, no,
We are like brother Afbley, pro publico bono.
Each Magpye, your honours, will pick at his
brother,
[other.

And their natures were always to crib from each
Young landlords and old ones are taught by their
calling

To laugh at engroffing---but practife foreftalling.
Our landlords are game-cocks, and fair play but
grant 'em,

I'll warrant you paftime from each little bantam.
Let's return to the punch---I hope, from my foul,
That now the old Magpye may fell you a bowl:
We have all forts and fizes, a quick trade to drive,
As one fhilling, two fhilling, three fhilling, five:
In this town of Stratford we'll have each in-
gredient,

Befide a kind welcome from me, your obedient.
I'll now fqueeze my fruit, put fugar and rum in,
And be back in a moment [Bell rings] A com
ing a coming, a coming!

GARRICK

"When do you give it us "--"Next Saturday. "I hope you'll both be kind to her, at least." "A fcribbling woman is a dreadful beast !--"Then they're fo ugly, all thefe female wits--- 83. Prologue to the Christmas Tale; 1774. "I'll damn her play---to throw her into fits. "Had I my will, thofe flattern fluttish dames--"They all fhould fee the bottom of the Thames." If you are here, good Sirs, to breed a riot, [Looking about the boyfe. Don't fhew your fpite; for, if you are not quiet, 'Tis ten to one---I fpeak it for your fake, This School for Rakes will prove your Wit's laft

Stake:

As you [To the Pi] fave me from their tyrannic
will,

You will not let them ufe a woman ill.
Protect her and her brat---the truly brave
Women and children will for ever fave.

Mufic plays, and enter feveral perfons with different kinds of difbes.

Enter Mr. Palmer in the charaller of Christmas. on---prepare my bounty for my friends, And fee that Mirth, with all her crew, attends.

To the Audience.

Behold a perfonage, well known to fame,
Once lov'd and honour'd-Christmas is my
My officers of state my taste display; [name!
Cooks, fcullions, pastry-cooks, prepare my way;
Holly

Holly and ivy round me honours fpread,
And my retinue fhew---I 'm not ill-fed;
Minc'd pies, by way of belt, my breast divide,
And a large carving-knife adorns my fide;
'Tis no fop's weapon, 't will be often drawn:
This turban for my head---is collar'd brawn.
Tho' old, and white my locks, my checks are
cherry;
[merry;
Warm'd by good fires, good cheer, I'm always
With carrol, fiddle, dance, and pleafant tale,
Jeft, gibe, prank, gambol, mummery, and ale,
I English hearts rejoic'd in days of yore;
For new ftrange modes, imported by the fcore,
You will not fure turn Christmas out of door!
Suppose yourselves well feated by a fire,
(Stuck close, you feem more warm than you
defire)

}

Old Father Chriftmas, now in all his glory,
Begs with kind hearts you 'll liften to his ftory;
Clear well your thoughts from politics and fpleen,
Hear my tale out, fee all that 's to be feen.
Take care, my children, that you well behave---
You, Sir, in blue, red cape, not quite fo grave:
That critic there in black---fo ftern and thin,
Before you frown, pray let the tale begin
You in the crimson capuchin, I fear you;
Why,Madam, at this time fo cross appear you?
Excufe me, pray---I did not fee your husband

And Drury Miffes here," in tawdry pride,
"Are there Paftoras by the fountain fide."
To frowly bow'rs they reel through midnight
damps,

With Fauns half drunk, and Dryads breaking
lamps.

Both far and near did this new whimfy run
One night it frifk'd, forfooth, at Iflington.
And now, as for the public bound to cater,
Our manager must have his féte champêtre.
How is the weather ---Pretty clear and bright.
[Looking about.

A ftorm's the devil on champêtre night!
Left it should fall to fpoil the author's fcenes,
I'll catch this gleam, to tell you what he means:
He means a fhow as brilliant as Cox's,
Laugh for the pit, and may be at the boxes;
Song, chorus, frolic, dance, and rural play,
The merry-making of a wedding day.
Whofe is the piece?---'Tis all furmife, sugges-

tion--

Is't his, or hers, or yours, Sir? That's the question.
The parent, bathful, whimsical, or poor,
Left it a puling infant at the door;
'Twas laid on flow'rs, and wrapp'd in fancied
cloaks,

And on the breast was written---Maido' th' Oaks.
The actors crowded round---the girls carefs'd.

it:

drefs'd it.

{bless'd it ;

near you.
Don't think, fair ladies, I expect that you [do:Lord! the sweet pretty babe!---they prais'd and
Should hear my tale---you've fomething clfe to The mafter peep'd, fmil'd, took it in, and
Nor will our beaux old English fare encourage;
No foreign tafte could e'er digeft plum-porridge.
have no fauce to quicken lifeless finners;
My food is meant for honeft hearty grinners.
For you, your fpirits with good ftomachs bring;
O, make the neighb'ring roof with rapture ring:
Open your mouths, pray, fwallow every thing!
Critics, beware how you our pranks defpife;
Hear well my tale, or you fhan't touch my pies;
The proverb change--Be merry, but not wife.

Whate'er its birth, protect it from the curfe
Of being fmother'd by a parish nurse:
As you 're kind, rear it---if you 're curious,
praife it:

}

§ 84. Prologue to the Maid of the Oaks; 1774. Spoken by Mr. King, in the Character of Fame.

GARRICK.

UNLIKE to ancient Fame, all eyes, tongues,

ears,

And ten to one but vanity betrays it.

$ 85. Occafional Prologue, upon Mr. Lacy's fif Appearance in the Character of Alexander. GARRICK.

IN Macedon when Alexander reign'd,

And victory after victory was gain'd;
The Greek Gazettes (for they had papers there)
Publifh'd a thoufand fibs-----
----as they do here.,
From them one Curtius wrote of Philip's fon,
How he did things---which never could be done?
Unlike his copy, who will foon appear,
His mighty foul ne'er knew the fmallest fear:1
Tho' laurel-crown'd, our pale young monarch
[drums;
Trembling amidst his triumphs, fhouts, and
Would give up all his vict'ries, falfe or true,
[Offering it. To gain one greater conqueft---that of you.

See modern Fame, arm'd cap-a-pic, appears,
In ledgers, chronicles, gazettes, and gazetteers!
My foaring wings are fine election fpeeches,
And puffs of candidates fupply my breeches.
My cap is fatire, criticifm, wit---
Is there a head that wants it in the pit?

comes

"Lord!" cries a buxom widow, loud and ftrong, "He's quite a boy! Toplay that part is wrong.' "Madam, he 's fix feet high, and cannot be "too young."

No flowing robe and trumpet me adorn;
I wear a jacket, and I wind a horn.
Pipe, fong, and paftoral, for five months paft,
Puff'd well by me, have been the general taste.
Now Mary bone fhines forth to gaping crowds; "He looks fo modeft, hardly fpeaks a word:
Now Highgate glitters from her hill of clouds; "Can he with proper fpirit draw his fword?
St. George's Fields, with tafte and fashion ftruck," A face fo finooth, where neitherrage nor pride is,
Display Arcadia at the Dog and Duck:

"Fits not the hero."---Fronti nulla fides.

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Elegant Extracts: Or, Useful and Entertaining Pieces of Poetry, Selected for ...