Home as they went, the fad difcourfe renew'd,
Of the relentless dame to death puríu'd,
And of the fight obfcene fo lately view'd.
None durit arraign the righteous doom the bore,
Ev'n they who pity'd molt,yet blam`d her more:
The parallel they needed not to name,
But in the dead they damn'd the living dame.
At ev'ry little noife fhe look'd behind,
For ftill the knight was prefent to her mind:
And anxious oft the ftarted on the way,
With faults confefs'd commiffion'd her to go,
It pity yet had place, and reconcile her foe:
The welcome melige made, was foon receiv'd;
'Twas to be with 'd,and hop'd, but scarce believ'd;
Fate feem'd a fair occation to prefent;
He knew the fex, and fear'd the might repent,
Should he delay the moment of content.
There yet remain'd to gain her friends (a care
The modefty of maideus well might fpare);
But the with fuch a zeal the caule embrac'd,
Andthought thehorieman-ghoftcamethund'ring(As women, where they will, are all in hafte)
Return'd, the took her bed with little reft,
But in fhort fumbers dreamt the fun ral feaft:
Awak'd, the turn'd her fide, and flept again;
The fame black vapours mounted in her brain,
And the fame dreams return'd with double
pain.
Now forc'd to wake, because afraid to fleep,
Her blood all fever'd, with a furious leap,
She fprang from bed, diftracted in her mind,
And fear'd, at every itep,atwitching ipright be-
Darkling and defperate, with stagging pace,
Of death afraid, and conscious of disgrace:
Fear, pride, remorte, at once her heart affail'd,
Pride put remorte to flight, but fear prevail d.
Friday, the fatal day, when next it came.
Her foul forethought the fiend would change his
And her pur fue, or Theodore be flain,
And twogholts join their packs to hunt her o'er
the plain.
The father, mother, and the kin beside,
Were overborne by fury of the tide;
With full content of all the chang`d her state;
Riflefs in her love, as in her hate.
By her example warn'd, the reft beware;
More cafy, leis imperious, were the fair
And that one hunting, which the devil defign'd
For one fair female, loft him half the kind.
§34. The Refiat. CHURCHILL.
ROSCIUS deceas'd, each high aspiring play'r
Pufh'd all his int rett for the vacant chair.
The bufkin'd herces of the mimic stage
No longer whine in love, and rant in rage;
The monarch quits his throne, and condescends
Humbly to court the favour of his friends;
For pity's fake tells undeferv'd mishaps,
And, their applaufe to gain, recounts his claps.
Thus the victorious chiefs of ancient Rome,
To win the mob, a fuppliant's form affume,
In pompous train fight o'er th extinguish'd war,
And thew where honour bled in ev'ry scar.
But though bare merit might in Rome appear
The ftrongeft plea for favour, 'tis not here;
We form ou judgment in another way;
And they will belt fucceed, who best can pay:
Thofe, who would gain the votes of British tribes,
This dreadful image fo poffefs'd her mind,
That, defperate any fuccour elle to find,
She ceas'd ail farther hope; and now began
To make reflection on th' unhappy man.
Rich, brave, and young, who pait expreilionlov'd,
Proof to dildain, and not to be remov'd:
Of all the men refpećted and admir'd,
Of all the dames, except bericht, defir'd:
Why not of her? preferr'd above the rest
By him with knightly deeds, and open love
profefs'd?
[drefs'd.
So had another been, where he his vows ad-
This quell'd her pride, yet other doubtsremain'd,
That, once difdaining, the might be difdain'd.
The fear was juft, but greater fear prevail'd,
Fear of her life by hellish hounds ailail'd:
He took a low ring leave; but who can tell
What outward hatemight inward love conceal?
Her fex's arts the knew; and why not, then,
Might deep diffembling have a place in men?
Here hope began to dawn; refolv'd to try,
She fix'd on this her utmost remedy:
Death was behind, but hard it was to die.
'Twas time enough at lait on death to call,
The precipice in fight: a thrub was all, [fall.
That kindly ftood betwixt to break the fatal)
One maid the Lad, belov'd above the reft:
Secure of her, the fecret the confeld;
The town divided, each runs fevral ways,
And now the cheerful light her fears difpell'd, As paffion, humour, intheft, party fways.
She with no winding turns the truth conce'd,Things of no moment, colour of the hair,
But put the wen.an off, and food reveal'd: Shape of a leg, complexion brown or fair,
Muft add to force of merit force of bribes.
What can an actor give? in ev'ry age
Cafh hath been rudely banish'd from the flage;
Monarchs themfelves, to grief of ev'ry play`r,
Appear as often as their image there:
They can't, like candidate for other feat,
Pour íeas of wine, and mountains raife of meat.
Wine! they could bribe you with the world as
foon,
And of roaft beef, they only know the ture:
But what they have they give; could Clive do
[four?
Though for each million he had brought home-
Shuter keeps open house at Southwark fair,
And hopes the friends of humour will be there;
In Smithfield, Yates prepares the rival treat
For those who laughter love, instead of meat ;
Foot, at Old Houle, for even Foote will be,
In felf-conceit, an actor, bribes with tea;
Which Wilkinfon at fecond-hand receives,
And at the New, pours water on the leaves.
A dress well chofen, or a patch mifplac'd,
Conciliate favour, or create ditafte.
From galleries loud peals of laughter roll,
And thunder Shuter's praifes—he's so droll.
Embox'd, the ladies must have fomething fmart,
Palmer! Oh! Palmer tops the janty part.
Seated in pit, the dwarf, with aching eyes,
Looks up, and vows that Barry's out of fize;
Whilft to fix feet the vig'rous ftripling grown,
Declares that Garrick is another Coan.
When place of judgment is by whim fupply'd,
And our opinions have their rife in pride;
When, in difcourfing on each mimic elf,
We praife and cenfure with an eye to self;
All must meet friends, and Ackman bids as fair
In fuch a court, as Garrick, for the chair.
At length agreed, all fquabbles to decide,
By fome one judge the caufe was to be try'd;
But this their fquabbles did afresh renew,
Who should be judge in such a trial :-Who?
For Johnton fome, but Johnson, it was fear'd,
Would be too grave; andSterne too gay appear'd:
Others for Francklin voted; but 'twas known,
He ficken'd at all triumphs but his own:
For Colman many, but the peevish tongue
Of prudent Age found out that he was young:
For Murphy fome few pilf ring wits declar'd,
Whilt Follyclapp'dher hands,and Wifdomftar'd.
To mifchief train'd, e'en from his mother's
womb,
Twice did thofe blockheads startle at my name,
And foul rejection gave me up to fhame.
To law and lawyers then I bade adieu,
And plans of far more lib'ral note parfue.
Who will may be a judge-my kindling breat
Burns for that chair which Rofcius once poffefs'd.
Here give your votes, your int'rest here exert,
And let fuccefs for once attend defert."
With fleek appearance, and with aubling pace,
And, type of vacant head, with vacant face,
The Proteus Hill put in his modeft plea,-
"Let favour fpeak for others, worth for me."
For who, like him, his various powers could call
Into fo many fhapes, and fhine in all?
Who could to nobly grace the motley list,
Actor, inspector, doctor, botanift?
Knows any one fo well-fure no one knows,-
At once to play, prefcribe, compound, compofe?
Who can-But Woodward came,-Hill flipp'd
away,
Melting, like ghofts, before the rifing day.
* With that low cunning, which in fools fup-
And amply too, the place of being wife, plies,
Which Nature, kind, indulgent parent, gave
To qualify the blockhead for a knave ;
With that smooth falsehood, whose appearance
charms,
And reafon of each wholefome doubt difarms,
Which to the lowest depths of guile defcends,
By vileft means purfues the vileft ends,
Wears friendship's mask for purposes of spite,
Fawns in the day, and butchers in the night;
With that malignant envy, which turns pale,
And fickens, even if a friend prevail,
Which merit and fuccefs purfues with hate,
And damns the worth it cannot imitate;
With the cold caution of a coward's fpleen,
Grown old in fraud, tho' yet in manhood's bloom,
Adopting arts, by which gay villains rife,
And reach the heights which honeft men depife;
Mute at the bar, and in the fenate loud,
Dull 'mongst the dulleft, proudest of the proud;
A pert, prim prater of the northern race,
Guilt in his heart, and famine in his face,
Stood forth; and thrice he wav'd his lily hand-Which fears not guilt, but always feeks a fcreen;
And thrice he twirl'd his tye-thrice ftrok'd his
[aim,
"At Friendship's call (thus oft with trait rous
Men void of faith ufurp faith's facred name)
"At Friendship's call I come, by Murphy fent,
Who thus by me develops his intent.
But left, transfus'd, the fpirit fhould be loft,
That spirit which in ftorms of Rhet'ric toit,
Bounces about, and flies like bottled beer,
In his own words his own intentions hear.
"Thanks to my friends-But to vile fortunes
born,
No robes of fur thefe fhoulders must adorn.
Vain your applause, no aid from thence I draw;
Vain all my wit, for what is wit in law?
Twice (curs'd remembrance!) twice I strove to
gain
Admittance 'mongst the law-inftructed train,
Who, in the Temple and Gray's Inn, prepare
For clients' wretched feet the legal fnare:
Dead to thofe arts, wbich polish and refine,
Deaf to all worth, because that worth was mine,
Which keeps this maxim ever in her view-
What's bafely done, fhould be done fafely too;
With that dull, rooted, callous impudence,
Which, dead to fhame, and ev'ry nicer fenfe,
Ne'er blufh'd, unless, in fpreading Vice's fnares,
She blunder'd on fome virtue unawares;
With all thefe bleffings, which we feldom find
Lavish'd by nature on one happy mind,
A motley figure, of the Fribble tribe,
Which heart can fearce conceive, or pen defcribe,
Came fimp'ring on; to afcertain whofe fex
Twelve fage impanel'd matrons would perplex.
Nor male, nor female; neither, and yet both;
Of neuter gender, tho' of Irish growth;
A fix-foot fuckling, mincing in its gait;
Affected, peevifh, prim, and delicate;
Fearful it feem'd, tho' of athletic make,
Left brutal breezes fhould too roughly fhake
Its tender form, and favage motion fpread,
O'er its pale cheeks, the horrid manly red.
Much did it talk, in its own, pretty phrafe,
Of genius and of tafte, of play'rs and plays;
→ This fevere character was intended for Mr. Fitzpatrick, a perfon who had rendered himself remarkable by his activity in the playboule riots of 1763, relative to the taking half prices. He was the hero of
Much too of writings, which itself had wrote,
Of special merit, tho' of little note;
For Fate, in a strange humour, had decreed
That what it wrote, none but itfelf fhould read;
Much too it chatter'd of dramatic laws,
Misjudging critics, and mifplac'd applaufe;
Then, with a felf-complacent jutting air,
It fmil'd, it fmirk'd, it wriggled to the chair;
And, with an awkward briiknels not its own,
Looking around, and perking on the throne,
Triumphant feem'd, when that strange favage
dame,
BOOK II.
And, whilft brave thirft of fame his bofom warms
Make England great in letters as in arms ?.
There may-there hath and Shakespeare's mufe
afpires
Beyond the reach of Greece: with native fires
Mounting aloft, he wings his daring fight,
Whilft Sophocles below itands trembling at his
height.
Why should we then abroad for judges roam,
Happy in tragic and in comic pow'rs,
When abter judges we may find at home?
Have we not Shakespeare?Is not Jonfon ours?
They'll judge like Britons, who like Britons
For them, your nat`ral judges, Britons, vote;
[iway,
He faid, and conquer'd-Sense resum'd her
Shakespeare and Jonton, with deferv'd applaufe,
And disappointed pedants talk'd away.
Mean time the stranger ev'ry voice employ'd,
Joint judges were ordain'd to try the caufe.
Thus, when the aged friends of Job stood niute,
And tamely prudent, gave up the dispute,
Elihu, with the decent warmth of youth,
Boldly flood forth the advocate of truth;
Whilft baffled age ftood fnarling at his fide.
Confuted falfehood, and difabled pride,
Known but to few, or only known by name,
Plain common fenfe appear'd, by nature there
Appointed, with plain truth, to guard the chair.
The pageant faw, and blafted with her frown,
To its firft ftate of nothing melted down.
Nor fhall the mufe (for even there the pride
Of this vain nothing thall be mortified)
Nor fhall the mufe (fhould fate ordain her rhymes,
Fond, pleafing thought! to live in after-times) | To afk or tell his name-Who is it ?-Lloyd.
With fuch a trifler's name her
Known be the character, the thing forgot;
pages blot;
Let it, to disappoint each future aim,
Live without fex, and die without a name !
Cold-blooded critics, by enervate fires
Scarce hammer'd out, when nature's feeble fires
Glimmer'd their laft; whofe fluggish blood, half
froze,
Creeps lab'ring thro' the veins,whofe heart ne'er
[glows
With fancy-kindled heat ;-a fervile race,
Who in mere want of fault, all merit place;
Who blind obedience pay to ancient schools,
Bigots to Greece, and flaves to muity rules;
With folemn confequence declar'd that none
Could judge that canfe but Sophocles alone.
Dupes to their fancied excellence, the crowd,
Obfequious to the facred dictate, bow'd. [forth,
When, from amidst the throng, a youth ftood
Unknown his perfon, not unknown his worth;
His look bespoke applaufe; alone he ftood,
Alone he ftemm'd the mighty critic flood.
He talk'd of ancients, as the man became
Who priz'd our own, but envied not their fame;
With noble rev'rence spoke of Greece and Rome,
And fcorn'd to tear the laurel from the tomb.
But more than just to other countries grown,
Muft we turn bafe apoftates to our own?
Where do these words of Greece and Rome excel,
That England may not please the ear as well?
What mighty magic's in the place or air,
That all perfection needs muit centre there?
In ftates, let ftrangers blindly be preferr'd;
In ftate of letters, merit fhould be heard.
Genius is of no country, her pure ray
Spreads all abroad, as gen'ral as the day;
Foe to restraint, from place to place the flies,
And may hereafter c'en in Holland rife.
May not (to give a pleating fancy fcope,
And cheer a patriot heart with patriot hope)
May not fome great extenfive Genius raife
The name of Britain 'bove Athenian praise ;
The day of trial's fix'd, nor any fear
Caufes but feldom for delay can call
Left day of trial fhould be put off here.
In courts where forms are few, fees none at all.
The morning came, nor find I that the fun,
As he on other great events hath done,
Put on a brighter robe than what he wore
To go his journey in the day before.
On plan entirely new, where nothing vain,
Full in the centre of a fpacious plain,
Nothing magnificent appear'd, but Art
With decent modefty perform'd her part,
Rofe a tribunal: from no other court
It borrow'd ornament, or fought fupport:
No juries here were pack'd to kill or clear,
No gownfmen, partial to a client's caufe,
No bribes were taken, nor oaths broken here;
To their own purpofe turn'd the pliant laws.
Each Judge was true and fteady to his truft,
As Mansfield wife, and as old Fofter,* juft.
A noble wildness flashing from his eyes,
In the first feat, in robes of various dyes,
Sat Shakefpeare-in one hand a wand he bore,
For mighty wonders fam'd in days of yore;
The other held a globe, which to his will
Obedient turn'd, and own'd the mafter's fkill:
Things of the nobleft kind his genius drew,
And look'd thro' nature at a fingle view;
A loofe he gave to his unbounded foul;
And taught new lands to rife, new feas to roll
Call'd into being fcenes unknown before,
And, pafling nature's bounds, was fomething
Next Jonfon fat, in ancient learning train'd,
His rigid judgment fancy's flights refrain'd,
* Sir Michael Fofter, one of the Judges of the King's Bench.
Correctly prun'd each wild luxuriant thought, | Act from himself, on his own bottom stand;
Mark 'dout her courfe, nor fpar'daglorious fault. I hate e'en Garrick thus at fecond-hand.
The book of man he read with nicest art,
And ranfack'd all the fecrets of the heart;
Exerted penetration's utmost force,
And trac'd each paffion to its proper fource;
Then ftrongly mark 'd, in livelieft colours drew,
And brought each foible forth to public view.
The coxcomb felt a lafh in ev'ry word,
And fools, hung out,their brother fools deterr'd.
His comic humour kept the world in awe,
And laughter frighten'd folly more than law.
But, hark!-The trumpet founds, the crowd
give way,
And the proceflion comes in juft array
Now fhould I, in fome fweet poetic line,
Offer up incenfe at Apollo's fhrine;
Invoke the mufe to quit her calın abode,
And waken men'ry with a fleeping ode.
For how fhould mortal man, in mortal verfe,
Their titles, merits, or their names rehearte?
But give, kind dulinefs, memory and rhyme,
We'll put off genius till another time.
First, order came,—with folemn flep, and flow,
In meafur'd time his feet were taught to go.
Behind, from time to time, he caft his eye,
Left this thould quit his place, that ftep awry.
Appearances to five his only care;
So things feem right, no matter what they are.
In him his parents faw themfelves renew'd,
Begotten by Sir Critic on Saint Prude.
Then came drum, trumpet, hautboy, fiddle,
flute;
Behind came King.-Bred up in modest lore,
Bathful and young he fought Hibernia's fhore;
Hibernia, fam'd, 'bove ev'ry other grace,
For matchlefs intrepidity of face.
From her his features caught the gen'rous flame,
And bid defiance to all fenfe of thame.
Tutor'd by her all rivals to furpaís, [brafs.
'Mongft Drury's fons he comes, and shines in
Lo Yates!-Without the least finesse of art
He gets applaufe-I with he'd get his part.
When hot impatience is in full career,
How vilely "Hark'e! Hark'e !" grates the ear!
When active fancy from the brain is fent,
And stands on tip-toe for fome with'd event,
I hate thofe careless blunders which recall
Sufpended fenfe, and prove it fiction all.
In characters of low and vulgar mould,
Where Nature's coarfeft features we behold,
Where, destitute of ev'ry decent grace,
Unmanner'd jefts are blurted in your face,
There Yates with juftice ftrict attention draws,
Acts truly from himself, and gains applaufe.
But when, to please himself or charm his wife,
He aims at fomething in politer life,
When, blindly thwarting nature's stubborn plan,
He treads the ftage, by way of gentleman,"
The clown, who no one touch of breeding knows,
Looks like Tom Errand drefs'd in Clincher's
clothes.
His walk of parts he fatally mifplac'd,
And inclination fondly took for taste;
Hence hath the town fo often feen difplay'd
Beau in burlesque, high life in masquerade.
Fond of his drefs, fond of his perfon grown, Laugh'd at by all, and to himself unknown, Next fnuffer, fweeper, fhifter, foldier, mute; From tide to fide he ftruts, he fmiles, he prates, Legions of angels all in white advance; And feems to wonder what 's become of Yates. Furies, all fire, come forward in a dance; Woodward,endow'dwithvarioustricksof face, Pantomime figures then are brought to view, Great master in the fcience of grimace, Fools hand in hand with fools go two by two. From Ireland ventures, fav'rite of the town, Next came the treasurer of either houfe; Lur'd by the pleafing profpect of renown; One with full purfe, t' other with not a fous. A fpeaking Harlequin, made up of whim, Behind, a groupe of figures awe create, He twifts, he twines, he tortures ev'ry limb, Set off with all th' impertinence of state; Plays to the eye with a mere monkey's art, By lace and feather confecrate to fame, And leaves to fenfe the conqueft of the heart. Expletive kings, and queens without a name. We laugh indeed, but, on reflection's birth, Here Havard, all ferene, in the fame ftrains,We wonder at ourfelves, and curfe our mirth. Loves, hates, and rages, triumphs,and complains: His eafy vacant face proclaim'd a heart Which could not feel emotions, nor impart. With him came mighty Davies. On my life, That Davies hath a very pretty wife :Statefman all over!-In plots famous grown!-Cold and correct, in thefe infipid days, He mouths a fentence, as curs mouth a bone. Next Holland came.-With truly tragic talk, He creeps, he flies-A hero fhould not walk. As if with heav'n he warr'd, his eager eyes Planted their batteries again!t the ikies; Attitude, action, air, paufe, start, figh, groan, He borrow'd, and made ufe of as his own. By fortune thrown on any other ftage, He might, perhaps, have pleas'd an eafy age; But now appears a copy, and no more, Of fomething better we have feen before. The actor who would build a folid fame, Muft imitation's fervile arts disclaim;
But when bold wits,not fuch as patch up plays,
Some comic character, strong featur'd, urge
To probability's extremeft verge,
Where modeft judgment her decree fufpends,
And, for a time, nor cenfures nor commends,
Where critics can't determine on the spot,
Whether it is in nature found or not,
There Woodward fafely thall his pow'rs exert,
Nor fail of favour where he fhews defert.
Hence he in Bobadil fuch praises bore,
Such worthy praifes, Kitely fcarce had more.
By turns transform'd into all kind of thapes,
Conitant to none, Foote laughs, cries, fruts and
fcrapes:
Now in the centre, now in`van or rear,
The Proteus fhifts, bawd. parfon, auctioneer.
His ftrokes of humour, and his bursts of fport,
Are all contain'd in this one word, Distort.
Doth a man ftutter, look a-fquint, or halt ?
Mimics draw humour out of nature's fault,
With perfonal defects their mirth adorn,
And hang misfortunes out to public fcorn.
E'en I, whom nature caft in hideous mould,
Whom, haying made, the trembled to behold,
Beneath the load of mimicry may groan,
And find that nature's errors are my own.
Shadows behind of Foote and Woodward came;
Wilkinfon this, Obrien was that name.
Strange to relate, but wonderfully true,
That even fhadows have their shadows too!
With not a fingle comic pow'r endu'd,
The firft a mere mere mimic's mimic stood;
The laft, by nature form'd to please, who fhows,
In Jonfon's Stephen, which way Genius grows;
Self quite put off, affects, with too much art,
To put on Woodward in each mangled part;
Adopts his fhrug, his wink, his ftare; nay, more,
His voice, and croaks; for Woodward croak'd
When a dull copier fimple grace neglects,[before.
And refts his imitation in defects,
We readily forgive; but fuch vile arts
Are double guilt in men of real parts.
If in thefe hallow'd times, when fober, fad,
All gentlemen are melancholy mad,
When 'tis not deem'd fo great a crime by half
To violate a veftal, as to laugh,
Rude mirth may hope prefumptuous to engage
An act of toleration for the ftage,
All courtiers will, like reafonable creatures,
Sufpend vain fafhion, and unicrew their features,
Old Falstaff, play'd by Love, fhall pleafe once
And humour fet the audience in a roar.
Actors I've feen, and of no vulgar name,
Who, being from one part poffefs'd of fame,
Whether they are to laugh, cry, whine, or bawl,
Still introduce that fav rite part in all.
Here, Love, be cautious-ne'er be thou betray'd
To call in that wag Falstaff's dang`rous aid;
Like Goths of old, howe'er he seems a friend,
He'll feize that throne you wish him to defend.
In a peculiar mould by humour caft,
For Falstaff fram'd-himself, the first and last,—
He ftands aloof from all-maintains his ftate,
And fcorns, like Scotfmen, to aflimilate.
Vain all difguife-too plain we fee the trick,
Tho' the knight wears the weeds of Dominic,
And Boniface, difgrac'd, betrays the fmack,
In Anno Domini, of Falstaff's fack.
Arms crois'd, brows bent, eyes fix'd, feet
By nature form'd in her perverfest mood,
With no one requifite of art endu'd,
Next Jackfon came.-Obferve that fettled glare,
Which better speaks a puppet than a player:
Lift to that voice-did ever difcord hear
Sounds fo well fitted to her untun'd ear?
When, to enforce fome very tender part,
The right-hand fleeps by inftinct on the heart,
His foul, of every other thought bereft,
Is anxious only where to place the left;
He fobs and pants to footh his weeping spouse," "Tis breach of privilege!-Shall any dare
To footh his weeping mother, turns and bows
Awkward, embarrafs'd, ftiff, without the skill
Of moving gracefully, or ftanding ftill,
Que leg, as if fufpicious of his brother,
Defirous feems to run away from t' other.
A band of malecontents with fpleen o'erflow;
Wrapt in conceit's impenetrable fog,
Which pride,like Phoebus,draws from ev'ry bog,
They curfe the managers, and curfe the town,
Whofe partial favour keeps fuch merit down.
But if fome man, more hardy than the reft,
Should dare attack thefe gnatlings in their neft ;
At once they rife with impotence of rage,
Whet their fmall ftings, and buzz about the stage.
To arm fatiric truth against a player?
Prefcriptive rights we plead time out of mind;
Actors, unlafh'd themselves, may lafh mankind.”
What! fhall opinion then, of nature free
And lib'ral as the vagrant air, agree
To ruft in chains like thefe, impos'd by things
Which, lefs than nothing, ape the pride of kings?
No-though half-poets with half-players join
To curfe the freedom of each honeft line;
Though rage and malice dim their faded cheek;
What the mufe freely thinks, the 'll freely fpeak.
With juft difdain of ev'ry paltry fneer,
Stranger alike to flattery and fear,
In purpofe fix'd, and to herfelf a rule,
Public contempt fhall wait the public fool.
Some errors, handed down from age to age, Plead cuftom's force, and ftill poffefs the itage. That's vile-fhould we a parent's faults adore, And err, because our fathers err'd before ? If, inattentive to the author's mind, Some actors made the jeft they could not find, If by low tricks they marr'd fair nature's mien, And blurr'd the graces of the fimple scene, Shall we, if reafon rightly is employ'd, Not fee their faults, or feeing not avoid? When Falstaff stands detected in a lie, Auftin would always gliften in French filks, Why, without meaning, rolls Love's glaffy eye? Ackman would Norris be, and Packer Wilks. Why?-There's no caufe-at leaft no caufe we For who, like Ackman, can with humour please? It was the fashion twenty years ago: [know-Who can, like Packer, charm with fprightly cafe? Fafion, a word which knaves and fools may ufe Higher than all the reft, fee Branfby strut:
Their knavery and folly to excufe.
To copy beauties, forfeits all pretence
To fame to copy faults, is want of fenfe.
Yet (tho' in fome particulars he fails,
Some few particulars, where mode prevails)
A mighty Gulliver in Lilliput !
Ludicrous Nature! which at once could fhew
A man fo very high, fo very low.
If I forget thee, Blakes, or if I fay Aught hurtful, may I never fee thee play!
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