Here come the sons of scandal and of news,
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 favour place
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.
SPOKEN BY MR LEE LEWIS, IN THE CHARACTER OF
HARLEQUIN, AT HIS BENEFIT.
HOLD! Prompter, hold! a word before your nonsense :
I'd speak a word or two, to ease my conscience.
My pride forbids it ever should be said
My heels eclipsed the honours of my head;
That I found humour in a piebald vest,
Or ever thought that jumping was a jest.
Whence, and what art thou, visionary birth?
Nature disowns, and reason scorns, thy mirth;
In thy black aspect every passion sleeps,
The joy that dimples, and the woe that weeps.
How hast thou fill'd the scene with all thy brood
Of fools pursuing, and of fools pursued!
Whose ins and outs no ray of sense discloses,
Whose only plot it is to break our noses;
Whilst from below the trap-door demons rise,
And from above the dangling deities.
And shall I mix in this unhallow'd crew?
May rosin'd lightning blast me if I do!
No-I will act -I'll vindicate the stage:
Shakspeare himself shall feel my tragic rage.
Off! off! vile trappings! a new passion reigns;
The madd'ning monarch revels in my veins.
Oh! for a Richard's voice to catch the theme,
"Give me another horse! bind up my wounds!—soft-'twas
Ay, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating,
If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating.
"Twas thus that Æsop's stag, a creature blameless, Yet something vain, like one that shall be nameless, Once on the margin of a fountain stood,
And cavill'd at his image in the flood.
confound," he cries, "these drumstick shanks,
They never have my gratitude nor thanks;
They're perfectly disgraceful! strike me dead;
But for a head, yes, yes, I have a head:
How piercing is that eye! how sleek that brow!
My horns! I'm told horns are the fashion now."
Whilst thus he spoke, astonish'd, to his view,
Near, and more near, the hounds and huntsmen drew;
Hoicks! hark forward! came thundering from behind,
He bounds aloft, outstrips the fleeting wind:
He quits the woods, and tries the beaten ways;
He starts, he pants, he takes the circling maze:
At length, his silly head, so prized before,
Is taught his former folly to deplore;
Whilst his strong limbs conspire to set him free,
And at one bound he saves himself-like me.
[Taking a jump through the stage door.
66 AH ME! WHEN SHALL I MARRY ME?"
Intended to have been sung in the Comedy of "She Stoops to Conquer." But it was left out as Mrs Bulkley, who played the part, did not sing.
AH me! when shall I marry me?
Lovers are plenty, but fail to relieve me.
He, fond youth, that could carry me,
Offers to love, but means to deceive me.
But I will rally, and combat the ruiner:
Not a look, nor a smile shall my passion discover.
She that gives all to the false one pursuing her,
Makes but a penitent, and loses a lover.
ON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT HON. ***
YE muses, pour the pitying tear
For Pollio snatched away;
Oh! had he lived another year-
He had not died to-day.
Oh! were he born to bless mankind
In virtuous times of yore,
Heroes themselves had fallen behind-
Whene'er he went before.
How sad the groves and plains appear
And sympathetic sheep;
Even pitying hills would drop a tear-
If hills could learn to weep.
His bounty in exalted strain
Each bard might well display,
Since none implored relief in vain-
That went relieved away.
And hark! I hear the tuneful throng
His obsequies forbid;
He still shall live, shall live as long
As ever dead man did.
ANSWER TO AN INVITATION TO DINNER.
"This is a poem. This is a copy of verses !"
The Inviter was Dr George Baker-the expected guests were Sir Joshua and Miss Reynolds, Angelica Kauffman, Mrs Horneck, her son Charles, and her daughters Mary (afterwards the wife of General Gwyn) and Catherine (afterwards Mrs Bunbury).
YOUR mandate I got
You may all go to pot:
Had your senses been right,
You'd have sent before night.
As I hope to be saved,
I put off being shaved-
For I could not make bold,
While the matter was cold,
To meddle in suds,
Or to put on my duds;
So tell Horneck and Nesbitt,
And Baker and his bit,
And Kauffman beside,
And the jessamy bride,
With the rest of the crew,
The Reynolds's two,
Little comedy's face,
And the captain in lace.
-By the by, you may tell him
I have something to tell him;
When he comes to enlist.
Your worships must know
That a few days ago,
An order went out,
For the foot-guards so stout
To wear tails in high taste-
Twelve inches at least:
Now I've got him a scale
To measure each tail;
To lengthen a short tail,
And a long one to curtail.
Yet how can I, when vex'd,
Thus stray from my text!
Tell each other to rue
Your Devonshire crew,
For sending so late
To one of my state.
But 'tis Reynolds's way
From wisdom to stray,
And Angelica's whim
To be frolick like him-
But alas! your good worships, how could they be wiser, When both have been spoil'd in to-day's Advertiser ?
ANSWER TO A VERSIFIED INVITATION.
FROM MRS BUNBURY TO PASS THE CHRISTMAS AT BARTON, AND TO TAKE THE ADVICE OF HER SISTER AND HERSELF IN PLAYING AT LOO.
FIRST let me suppose, what may shortly be true,
The company set, and the word to be-loo;
All smirking and pleasant, and big with adventure,
And ogling the stake which is fixed in the centre.
Round and round go the cards, while I inwardly damn
At never once finding a visit from Pam.
I lay down my stake, apparently cool,
While the harpies about me all pocket the pool;
I fret in my gizzard-yet cautious and sly,
I wish all my friends may be bolder than I:
Yet still they sit snug; not a creature will aim,
By losing their money, to venture at fame.
"Tis in vain that at niggardly caution I scold,
"Tis in vain that I flatter the brave and the bold,
All play their own way, and they think me an ass;
"What does Mrs Bunbury?" "I, sir? I pass."
Pray what does Miss Horneck?" Take courage, come, do." "Who-I? Let me see, sir; why, I must pass too."
Mr Bunbury frets, and I fret
To see them so cowardly, lucky, and civil;
Yet still I sit snug, and continue to sigh on,
Till made by my losses as bold as a lion,
I venture at all; while my avarice regards
The whole pool as my own. "Come, give me five cards."
"Well done," cry the ladies; "ah! doctor, that's good-
The pool's very rich. Ah, the doctor is loo'd."
Thus foil'd in my courage, on all sides perplex'd,
I ask for advice from the lady that's next.
"Pray, ma'am, be so good as to give your advice;
Don't you think the best way is to venture for't twice ¿"
"I advise," cries the lady, "to try it, I own-
Ah, the doctor is loo'd: come, doctor, put down."
Thus playing and playing, I still grew more eager,
And so bold, and so bold, I'm at last a bold beggar.
Now, ladies, I ask-if law matters you're skilled in,
Whether crimes such as yours should not come before.
Fielding?
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