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TENDED TO HAVE BEEN SUNG IN THE COMEDY

OF "SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER." *.

AH me! when fhall I marry me?
overs are plenty; but fail to relieve me.
e, fond youth, that could carry me,
Offers to love, but means to deceive me.

* Sir, I fend you a small production of the late Dr. Goldsmith, which has never been published, and which might perhaps have been totally loft, had I not secured it. He intended it as a fong in the character of Miss Hardaftle, in his admirable comedy of " She Stoops to Con

quer," but it was left out, as Mrs. Bulkley, who play'd the part, did not fing. He fung it himself, in private companies very agreeably. The tune is a pretty Irish air, called "The Humours of Balamagairy," to which he told me he found it very difficult to adapt words; but he has fucceeded very happily in these few lines. As I could

fing

108

SONG.

But I will rally and combat the ruiner:

Not a look, not a smile shall my paffion discover.
She that gives all to the falfe one pursuing her,
Makes but a penitent, and lofes a lover.

fing the tune, and was fond of them, he was fo goud as to give me them, about a year ago, just as I was leaving London, and bidding him adieu for that feafon, little apprehending that it was a laft farewel. I preserve this little relic, in his own hand writing, with an affectionate I am, Sir,

care.

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N thefe bold times, when Learning's fons explore, he diftant climates, and the favage fhore;

When wise aftronomers to India fteer,

And quit for Venus many a brighter here?
While botanifts, all cold to fmiles and dimpling,
Forfake the fair, and patiently-go fimpling,
Our bard into the general fpirit enters,
And fits his little frigate for adventures.

With

110

PROLOG U E

With Scythian stores, and trinkets deeply laden,
He this way steers his course, in hopes of trading-
Yet ere he lands he as order'd me before,

To make an obfervation on the fhore,

Where are we driven? our reckoning fure is loft!
This seems a rocky and a dangerous coaft.
Lord, what a fultry climate am I under!

Yon ill-foreboding cloud feems big with thunder:

(Upper gallery.)

There mangroves fpread, and larger than I've

feen 'em

(Pit.) Here trees of ftately fize-and billing turtles in

'em

Here ill-conditioned oranges abound

(Balconies.)

(Stage.)

(Tafting them.)

And apples, bitter apples ftrew the ground:

The inhabitants are canibals I fear :

I heard a hiffing-there are ferpents here!

O, there the people are-best keep my distance;
Our Captain (gentle natives) craves assistance;

Our ship's well ftor'd-in yonder creek we've laid her,
His honour is no mercenary trader.

This is his firft adventure, lend him aid,

And we may chance to drive a thriving trade.

His

His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from

far,

Equally fit for gallantry and war.

What, no reply to promises so ample?

I'd best step back-and order up a sample. ·

EPI

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