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MUTUA OSCITATIONUM PROPAGATIO SOLȚI POTEST MECHANICE.

Momus, scurra, procax superùm, quo tempore

Pallas

Exiluit cerebro Jovis, est pro more jocatus
Nescio quid stultum de partu: excanduit irà
Jupiter, asper, acerba tuens; " et tu quoque,
dixit,

Garrule, concipies, fætumque ex ore profundes:"
Haud mora, jamque supinus in aulâ extenditur
Derisor; dubiâ velantur Jumina nocte; [ingens
Stertit hians immane;-e naso Gallica clangun:
Classica, Germanique simul sermonis amaror :

Edita vix tandem est monstrum Polychasmia proles

Tanto digna parente, aviæque simillima Nocti.
Illa oculos tentat nequicquam aperire, veterno
Torpida, & horrendo valtum distorta cachinno.
Emulus hanc Jovis aspiciens, qui fictile valgus
Fecerat infelix, imitarier arte Prometheus
Audet-nec flammis opus est cœlestibus: auræ
Tres Stygiæ flatus, nigræ tria pocula Lethes
Miscet, & innuptæ suspiria longa puellæ ;
His adipem suis & guttur conjungit aseifi,
Tensa que cum gemitu somnisque sequacibus ora.
Sic etiam in terris Dea, quæ mortalibus ægris
Ferret opem, inque hebetes dominarier apta, cre-

ata est.

Nonne vides, ut præcipiti petit oppida cursu Rustica plebs, stipatque forum? sublime tribunal Armigerique equitesque premunt, de more parati Justitiæ lances proferre fideliter æquas, Grande capillitium induti, frontemque minacem. Non temerè attoniti caupones, turbaque furum Aufugiunt, gravidæque timent trucia ora puellæ. At mox fida comes Polychasmia, matutinis Quæ se miscuerat poc'lis Cerealibus, ipsum Judicis in cerebrum scandit-jamque uous & alter Cæperunt longas in hiatum ducere voces: Donec per cunctos dea jam solenne, profundum Sparserit hum-nutat taciti, tum brachia magno Extendunt nisu, patulis & faucibus hiscunt. Intereà legum caupones jurgia miscent, Queis nil rhetorice est, nisi copia major hiandi: Vocibus ambiguis certant, nugasque strophasque Alternis jaculantur, & irascuntur amicè, Donantque accipiuntque stuporis missile plum

bum.

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A MECHANICAL SOLUTION

OF THE

PROPAGATION OF YAWNING.

Translated by the same band. WHEN Pallas issued from the brain of Jove, Momus, the mimic of the gods above, In his mock mood impertinently spoke About the birth, some low, ridic'lous joke: Jove, sternly frowning, glow'd with vengeful ire, And thus indignant said th' almighty sire;

Loquacious slave, that laugh'st without a cause, Thou shalt conceive, and bring forth at thy jaws." He spoke-stretch'd in the hall the mimic lies, Supinely du!!, thick vapours dim his eyes: And as his jaws a horrid chasin disclose, It seem'd he made a trumpet of his nose; Tho' harsh the strain, and horrible to hear, Like German jargon grating on the ear.

At length was Polychasmia brought to light, Worthy her sire, a monster of a sight, Resembling her great grandmother, Old Night. Her eyes to open oft in vain she try'd, Lock'd were the lids, her mouth distended wide. Her when Prometheus happen'd to survey (Rival of Jove, that made mankind of clay) He form'd without the aid of heav'nly ray. To three Lethan cups he learnt to mix Deep sighs of virgins, with three blasts from Styx, The bray of asses, with the fat of brawn, The sleep-preceding groan, and hideous yawn. Thus Polychasmia took her wond'rous birth, A goddess helpful to the sons of Earth.

Lo! how the rustic multitude from far
Haste to the town, and crowd the cam'rous bar.
The prest bench groans with many a squire and
knight,

Who weigh out justice, and distribute right:
Severe they seem, and formidably big,
With front important and huge periwig.
The little villains skulk aloof dismay'd,
And panic terrours seize the pregnant maid.
But soon friend Polychasm', who always near,
Herself had mingled with their morning beer,
Steals to the judges brain, and centers there;
Then in the court the horrid yawn began, [man:
And hun profound and solemn went from man tơ
Silent they nod, and with prodigious strain
Stretch out their arms, then listless yawn again:
For all the Row'rs of rhetoric they can boast
Amidst their wranglings is to gape the most :
Ambiguous quirks, and friendly wrath they vent,
Aud give and take the leaden argument.

Ye too, fanatics, never shail escape
The faithful Muse; for who so greatly gape?
Mounted on high, with serious care perplext,
The mise: able preacher takes his text;
Then into parts minute, with wond'rous pain,
Divides, connects, and then divides again,
And does with grave obscurity explain:
While from his lips lean periods ling'ring creep,
And not one meaning interrupts their sleep.
The drowsy hearers stretch their weary jaws
With lamentable groan, and yawning gape ap
plause.

The quacks of physic next provoke my ire, Who falsely boast Hippocrates their sire:

Agnosco natos: tumidas sine pondere voces
In vulgum eructant; emuncto quisque bacillum
Applicat auratum naso, graviterque facetus
Totum se in vultum cogit medicamina pandens-
Rusticus haurit âmara, atque insanabile dormit;
Nec sensus revocare queant fomenta, nec herbæ,
Non ars, non miræ magicus sonus Abracadabræ.

Ante alios summa es, Polychasmia, cura Sophistæ:

Ille tui cæcas vires, causamque latentem
Se lulus exquirit-quo scilicet impete fauces
Invitæ disjungantur; quo vortice aquosæ
Particulæ fluitent, comitesque, ut fulminis imbres,
Cum strepitu erumpant; ut deinde vaporet
Materies subtilis; ut in cusin ininuet se [obellos.
Retia; tum, si forte datur contingere nervos
Concordes, cunctorum ora expanduntur hiulca.
Sic ubi, Phoebe pater, sumis chelyn, harmoni-
amque

Abstrusam in chordis simul elicis, altera, siquam
Equalis tenor aptavit, tremit æmula cantûs,
Memnoniamque imitata lyram sine pollicis ictu
Divinum resonat proprio modulamine carmen.
Me quoque, mene tuum tetigisti, ingrata,
Poetam?

Hei mihi! totus hio tibi jam stupefactus; in ipso Parnasso captus longè longèque remotas Prospecto Musas, sitioque, ut Tantalus alter, Castalias situs inter aquas, inhiantis ab ore Nectarei fugiunt latices-hos Popius urnâ Excipit undanti, & fontem sibi vendicat omnem.

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Goddess! thy sons I ken-verbose and loud,
They puff their windy bubble on the crowd;
With look important, critical, and vain,
Each to his nose applies the gilded came;
And as he nods and ponders o'er the case,
Gravely collects himself into his face,
Explain his med'cines-which the rustic buys,
Drinks the dire draught, and of the doctor dies;
No pills, no potions can to life restore;
Abracadabra, necromantic pow'r,
Can charm and conjure up from death no more.

But more than aught that's marvellous and rare,
The studious Soph makes Polychasm' his care;
Explores what secret spring, what hidden cause
Distends with hideous chasm' the unwilling jaws,
What latent ducts the dewy moisture pour
With sound tremendous, like a thunder-show'r :
How subtle matter, exquisitely thin,
Pervades the curious net-work of the skin,
Affects th' accordant nerve-all eyes are drown'd
In drowsy vapours, and the yawn goes rouud.
When Phoebus thus his flying fingers flings
Across the chords, and sweeps the trembling
If e'er a lyre at unison there be, [strings;
It swells with emulating harmony,
Like Memnon's harp, in ancient times renown'd,
Breathing, untouch'd, sweet modulated sound.

But oh! ungrateful to thy own true bard, Oh! Polychasm', is this my just reward! Thy drowsy dews upon my head distill, Just at the entrance of th' Aonian hill; Listless I gape, unactive, and supine, And at vast distance view the sacred Nine: Wistful I view the streams increase my thirst, In vain-like Tantalus, with plenty curst; No draughts nectareous to my portion fall, These godlike Pope exhausts, and greatly claims

them all.

Thus the lean Sizar views, with gaze agast, In vain he grinds his teeth-his grudging eye The hungry tutor at his noon's repast; And visage sharp, keen appetite imply; The lessening relics of the meal awayOft he attempts, officious, to convey In vain—no morsel 'scapes the greedy jaw, All, all is gorg'd in magisterial maw; Till at the last, observant of his word, The lamentable waiter clears the board, And inly-murmuring miserably groans, To see the empty dish,and hear the sounding bones.

But wou'd you crack their windpipes and their lungs,

The certain way's to bid them hold their tongues.
Twas thus with Minum-Minum one wou'd think,

My lord mayor might have govern'd with a wink.
To ask a song, as kinsman or as friend,
Yet did the magistrate e'er condescend
The urchin coin'd excuses to get off,
'Twas-hem-the devil take this whoreson cough.
But wait awhile, and catch him in the glee,
He'd roar the Lion* in the lowest key,
Or strain the Morning Lark + quite up to G.

The Lion's song, in Pyramus and Thisbe.
A song in one of Mr. Handel's Oratorios.

Act Beard, or Lowe, and show his tuneful art

From the plumb-pudding down to the desert. 2 Never on Earth was such a various elf,

He every day possess'd a different self;

This is a servile selfishness, a fault
Which Justice scarce can punish as she ought.
Blind as a poking, dirt-compelling mole,
To all that stains thy own polluted soul,

Sometimes he'd scow'r along the streets like Yet each small failing spy'st in other men,

wind,

As if some fifty bailiffs were behind :

At other times he'd sadly saunt'ring crawl,
As tho' he led the hearse, or held the sable pall.
Now for promotion he was all on flame,
And ev'ry sentence from St. James's came.
He'd brag how Sir John**** met him in the
Strand,
[hand;
And how his Grace of***** took him by the
How the prince saw him at the last review,
And ask'd who was that pretty youth in blue?
Now wou'd he praise the peaceful sylvan scene,
The healthful cottage, and the golden mean.
Now wou'd he cry, “contented let me dwell
Safe in the harbour of my college cell;
No foreign cooks, nor livery'd servants nigh,
Let me with comfort eat my mutton pye;
While my pint bottle, op'd by help of fork,
With wine enough to navigate a cork,
My sober solitary meal shall crown,
To study edge the mind, and drive the vapours
Yet, strange to tell! this won 'rous student lay
Snoring in bed for all the livelong day;
Night was his time for labour-in a word,
Never was man so cleverly absurd.

[down."

4 But here a friend of mine turns up his nose,
"And you" (he cries) "are perfect, I suppose:"
"Perfect! not I (pray, gentle sir, forbear)
In this good age, when vices are so rare,
I plead humanity, and claim my share.
Who has not faults? great Marlborough had one,
Nor Chesterfield is spotless, nor the Sun."
Grubworm was railing at his friend Tom Queer,
When Witwoud thus reproach'd him with a sneer,
"Have you no flaws, who are so prone to snub?"
"I have but I forgive myself," quoth Grub.

2 Nil æquale homini fuit illi: sæpe velut qui Currebat fugiens hostem: persæpe velut qui Junonis sacra ferret. Habebat sæpe ducentos, Sæpe decem servos: modo reges, atque tetrarchas.

3 Omnia magna loquens. mensa tripes, &

Modo, Sit mihi

Concha salis puri, & toga, quæ defendere frigus,
Quamvis crassa, queat, decies centena dedisses
Huic parco paucis contento: quinque diebus
Nil erat in loculis. Noctes vigilabat ad ipsum
Mane: diem totum stertebat: nil fuit unquam
Sic ímpar sibi. Nunc aliquis dicat mihi: Quid tu?
♦ Nullane habes vitia immo alia, & fortasse
minora.

Spy'st with the quickness of an eagle's ken.
Tho' strong resentment rarely lag behind,
And all thy virulence be paid in kind.

5 Philander's temper's violent, nor fits
The wond'rous waggishness of modern wits;
His cap's awry, al ragged is his gown,
And (wicked rogue!) he wears his stockings
down;

But h'as a soul ingenuous as his face,
To you a friend, and all the human race;
Genius, that all the depths of learning sounds,
And generosity, that knows no bounds.

In fruits like these if the good youth excel,
Let them compensate for the awkward shell.
Sift then yourself, I say, and sift again,
Glean the pernicious tares from out the grain;
And ask thy heart, if custom, Nature's heir,
Hath sown no undiscover'd fern-seed there;
This be our standard then, on this we rest,
Nor search the casu's s for another test.

Let's be like lovers gloriously deceiv'd,
And each good man a better still believ'd
E'en Celia's wart Strephon will not neglect,
But praises, kisses, loves the dear defect.
Oh! that in friendship we were thus to blame,
And ermin'd candour, tender of our fame,
Wou'd clothe the honest errour with an honest
name!

Be we then still to those we hold most dear,
Fatherly food, and tenderly severe.
The sire, whose son squints forty thousand ways,
Finds in his features mighty room for praise:
"Ah! born" (he cries) "to make the ladies sigh,
Jacky, thou hast an amorous cast o' th' eye."

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5 Iracundior est paullo minus aptus acutis Naribus horum hominum? rideri possit, eo quod Rusticius tonso toga defluit, and male laxus In pedo calceus hæret. At est bonus, ut melior vir [ingens Non alius quisquam: at tibi amicus: at ingenium Inculto latet hoc sub corpore. Denique teipsum Concute, num qua tibi vitiorum, inseverit olim Natura, aut etiam consuetudo mala. Namque Neglectis urenda filix innascitur agris.

6 Illuc prævertamur: amatorem quod amice Turpia decipiunt cæcum vitia, aut etiam ipsa hæc

Delectant: veluti Balbinum polypus Hagnæ: Vellem in amicitia sic erraremus; & isti Errori nomen virtus posuisset honestum. At, pater ut nati, sie noc debemus amici, Mænius absentem Novium cum carperet: heus tu,Si quod sit vitium, non fastidire. Strabonem Quidam ait. ignoras te? an ut ignotum dare nobis

Verba putas? egomet mi ignosco, Mænius inquit.
Stultus, & improbus hic amor est, dignusque

notari.

Cum tua pervideas oculis mala lippus inunctis,
Cur in amicorum vitiis tam cernis acutum.
Quam aut aquila, aut serpens Epidaurius? at
tibi contra

Evenit, inquirant vitia ut tua rursus & illi.

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Appellat prætum pater: & pullum, male parvus.
Si cui filius est: ut abortivus fuit olim
Sisyphus, hunc varuin, distortis eruribus, illum
Baloutit scaurum, pravis fultum male tatis.
Parcius hic vivit? frugi dicatur. Ineptus,
Et jactantior hic paullo est? concinnus amicis.
Postulat ut videatur. At est turculentior, atque
Plus æquo liber? simplex, fortisque habeatur.
Caldior est? acres inter numeretur. Opiuor,
Hæc res & jungit, junctos & servat amicos.

Another child's abortive-he believes
Nature most perfect in diminutives;
And men of ev'ry rank with one accord
Salute each crooked rascal with my lord.
(For bandy legs; hump-back, and knocking knee,
Are all excessive signs of qty.)

Thus let us judge our friends-if Scrub subsist
Too mean y, Scrub is an economist;
And if Tom Tinkle is full loud and pert,
He aims at wit, and does it to divert.
Largus is apt to bluster, but you'll find
'Tis owing to his magnitude of mind:
Lollius is passionate, and loves a whore,
Spirit and constitution!-nothing more-
Ned to a bullying peer is ty'd for life,
And in commendam holds a scolding wife;
Slave to a fool's caprice, and woman's will;
But patience, patience, is a virtue still!
Ask of Chamont a kingdom for a fish,
He'll give you three rather than spoil a dish;
Nor pride, nor luxury is in the case,
But hospitality-an't please your grace.
Should a great gen'ral give a drab a pension—
Meanuess!-the devil-'tis perfect condescension.
Such ways make many friends, and make friends
long,

Or else my good friend Horace reasons wrong.
But we alas! c'en virtuous deeds invert,
And into vice misconstrue all desert.
See we a man of modesty and merit,
Sober and meek—we swear he has no spirit;
We call him stupid, who with caution breaks
His silence, and will think before he speaks.
Fidelio treads the path of life with care,
And eyes his footsteps; for he fears a snare.
His wary way still scandal misapplies,
And calls him subtle, who's no more than wise.
If any man is unconstrain'd and free,
As oft, my Lælius, I have been to thee,
When rudely to thy room I chance to scour,
And interrupt thee in the studious hour,
From Coke and Lyttleton thy mind unbend,
With more familiar nonsense of a friend;
Talk of my friendship, and of thy desert,
Show thee my works, and candidly impart
At once the product of my head and heart,
Nasutus calls me fool, and clownish bear,
Nor (but for perfect candour) stops he there.
Ah! what unthinking, heedless things are

men,

"At nos virtutes ipsas invertimus, atque Sincerum cupimus vas incrustare. Probus quis Nobiscum vivit? multum est demissus homo ille.

Tardo, cognomen pingui damus. Hic fugit omnes
Insidias, nullique malo latus obdit apertum ?
(Cum genus hoc inter vitæ versetur, ubi acris
Invidia, atque vigent ubi crimina) pro bene sano,
Ac non incauto, fictum astutumque vocamus.
Simplicior, quis, qualem me sæpe libenter
Obtulerim tibi, Mæcenas, ut forte legentem
Aut tacitum impellat quovis sermone? molestus!
Communi sensu plane caret, inquimus. ® Eheu!
Quam temere in nosmet legem sancimus iniquam?
Nam vitiis nemo sine nascitur: optimus ille est,
Qui minimis urgetur. Amicus dulcis, ut æquum
est,

Cum mea compenset vitiis bona, pluribus hisce,

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T'enact such laws as must themselves condemn?
In every human soul some vices spring/
(For fair perfection is no mortal thing)
Whoe'er is with the fewest faults endu'd,
Is but the best of what cannot be good.
Then view me, friend, in an impartial light,
Survey the good and bad, the black and white;
And if you find me, sir, upon the whole,
To be an honest and ingenuous soul,
By the same rule I'll measure you again,
And give you your allowance to a grain.
'Tis friendly and 'tis fair, on either hand,
To grant th' indulgence we ourselves demand.
If on your hump we cast a fav'ring eye,
You must excuse all those who are awry.
In short, since vice or folly, great or small,
Is more or less inherent in us all,
Whoe'er offends, our censure let us guide,
With a strong bias to the candid side;
Nor (as the stoics did in ancient times)
Rank little foibles with enormous crimes.
9 If, when your butler, e'er he brings a dish,
Shou'd lick his fingers, or shou'd drop a fish,
Or from the side-board filch a cup of ale,
Enrag'd you send the puny thief to gao!;
You'd be (methink) as infamous au oaf,
As that immense portentous scoundrel-
Yet worse by far (if worse at all can be)
In folly and iniquity is he,

Who, for some trivial, social, well-meant joke,
Which candour shou'd forget as soon as spoke,
Wou'd shun his friend, neglectful and unkind,
As if old parson Packthread was behind,
Who drags up all his visitors by force,
And without mercy reads them his discourse.
10 If sick at heart, and heavy at the head,
My drunken friend should reel betimes to bed,
And in the morn, with affluent discharge,
Should sign and seal his residence at large;

Si modo plura mihi bona sant, inclinet ; amari
Si volet hac lege, in trutina ponetur eadem.
Qui ne tuberibus propriis offendat amicum
Postulat; ignoscat verrucis illius. quum est,
Peccatis veniam poscentem reddere rursus.
Denique, quatenus excidi penitus vitium iræ,
Cætera item nequeunt stultis hærentia; cur non
Ponderibus, modulisque suis ratio utitur? ac res
Ut quæque est, ita suppliciis delicta coercet ?

9 Si quis eum servum, patinam qui tollere jussus,

Semesos pisces, tepidumque ligurierit jus,
In cruce suffigat; Labeone insanior inter
Sauos dicatur. Quanto hoc furiosius atque
Majus peccatum est paullum deliquit amicus,
(Quod nisi concedas, habeare insuavis, acerbus ;)
Odisti, & fugis, ut Drusonem debitor æris?
Qui nisi cum tristes misero venere Calenæ,
Mercedem aut nummos unde unde extricat,

amaras

Porrecto jugulo historias, captivus ut, audit.

To Comminxit lectum potus, mensave catillum Evandri manibus tritum dejecit: ob hanc rem, Aut positum ante mea quia pullum in parte catini

Sustulit esuriens, minus hoc jucundus amicus Sit mihi quid faciam, si furtum fecerit ? aut si * An infamous attorney.

Or should be in some passionate debate,
By way of instance, break an earthen plate;
Wou'd I forsake him for a piece of delph ?
No-not for China's wide domain itself.
If toys like these were canse of real grief,
What should I do, or whither seek relief,

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Suppose him perjur'd faithless, pimp, or thief?" Away-a foolish knavish tribe you are,

Who falsely put all vices on a par.

From this fair reason her assent withdraws,
F'en sordid interest gives up the cause,
That mother of our customs and our laws.
When first yon golden Sun array'd the east,
Small was the difference 'twixt man and beast;
With hands, with nails, with teeth, with clubs
they fought,
[wrought
Till malice was improv'd, and deadlier weapons
Language at length, and words experience found,
And sense obtain'd a vehicle in sound. [built,
Then wholesome laws were fram'd, and towns were
And justice seiz'd the lawless vagrant's guilt;
And theft, adultery, and fornication, [fashion:
Were punish'd much, forsooth, tho' much in
"For long before fair Helen's fatal charms
Had many a

Hiatus magnus lacrymabilis

set the world in arms.

But kindly kept by no historian's care,
They all, goodlack, have perish'd to an hair.
But be that as it may, yet in all climes,
There's diff'rent punishment for diff'rent crimes.
"Hold,blockhead, hold-this sure is not the way,
For all alike I'd lash, and all I'd slay,"
Cries W******x, "if I'd sovereign sway."
Have sovereign sway, and an imperial robe,
With fury sultauate* o'er halfthe globe.
Meanwhile, if I from each indulgent friend,
Obtain remission, when I chance t' offend,
Why, in return, I'll make the balance even,
And, for forgiving, they shall be forgiven,

Prodiderit commissa fide? sponsumve negarit? Queis paria esse fere placuit peccata, laborant, Cum ventum ad verum est; sensus, moresque repugnant

Atque ipsa utilitas, justi prope mater, & æqui.
Cum prorepserunt primis animalia terris,
Mutum & turpe pecus, glandem atque cubilia
propter,

Unguibus, & pugnis, dein fustibus, atque ita porro
Pugnabant armis, quæ post fabricaverat usus:
Donec verba, quibus voces, sensusque notarent,
Nominaque invenere; dehinc absistere bello,
Oppida cœperunt munire, & ponere leges;
Ne quis fur esset, neu latro, neu quis adulter,
"Nam fuit ante Helenam cunnus teterrima

beili

Causa: sed ignotis perierunt mortibus illi,
Quos Venerem incertam rapientes more ferarum
Viribus editior cædebat, ut in grege taurus.

duin tu quadrante lavatum Rex ibis, neque te quisquam stipator, ineptum Præter Crispinum, sectabitur: & mihi dulces Ignoscent, si quid peccavero stultus, amici:

A word coined in the manner of Mr. Warburton.

12 With zeal I'll love, be courteous e'en to strife, More blest than emperors in private life.

AN OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE TO
OTHELLO, AS IT WAS ACTED AT THE THEATRE-
ROYAL IN DRURY-LANE, ON THURSDAY THE
7TH OF MARCH, 1751, BY PERSONS OF DIS-
TINCTION, FOR THEIR DIVERSION.

WILE mercenary actors tread the stage,
And hireling scribblers lash or lull the age,
Our's be the task t' instruct, and entertain,
Without one thought of glory or of gain.
Virtue's her own-from no external cause-
She gives, and she demands the self-applause:
Home to her breast she brings the heart-felt
bays,

Heedless alike of profit, and of praise.
This now perhaps is wrong-yet this we know,
'Twas sense and truth a century ago:
When Britain, with transcendant glory crown'd,
For high achievements, as for wit renown'd,
Cull'd from each growing grace the purest part,
And cropt the flowers from every blooming art,
Our noblest youths would then einbrace the task
Of comic humour, or the mystic masque.
'Twas theirs t' encourage worth, and give to bards
What now is spent in boxing and in cards:
Good sense their pleasure-virtue still their
gnide,

And English magnanimity-their pride.
Methinks I see with Fancy's magic eye,
The shade of Shakespeare, in yon azure sky.
On yon high cloud behold the bard advance,
Piercing all Nature with a single glance:
In various attituges around him stand
The Passions, waiting for his dread command.
First kneeling Love before his feet appears,
And musically sighing melts in tears.
Near him fell Jealousy with fury burns,
And into storms the amorous breathings turns;
Then Hope with heavenward look, and Joy draws.

near,

While palsied Terrour trembles in the rear.

Such Shakespeare's train of horrour and deAnd such we hope to introduce to-night. [light, Bu if, though just in thought, we fail in fact, And good intention ripens not to act, Weigh our design, your censure still defer, When truth's in view 'tis glorious e'en to err

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY DESDE MONA.

TRUE woman to the last-my peroration
I come to speak in spite of suffocation;
To show the present and the age to come,
We may be chok'd, but never can be dumb..
Well now methinks, I see you all run out,
And haste away to lady Bragwell's ront;
Each modish sentiment to hear and weigh,
Of those who nothing think, and all things say.

12 Inque vicem illorum patiar de'icta libenter, Privatusque magis vivam te rege beatus.

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