Such labours with fuccefs her hopes may crown,
And shame to manners an incorrigible Town.
While this defign her eager thought pursues,
Such various virtues all around fhe views,
She knows not where to fix or which to chufe;
Yet fill ambitious of the daring flight,
One only awes her with fuperiour light:
From that attempt the confcious Mufe retires
Nor to inimitable worth afpires,
But fecretly applauds, and filently admires.
Hence the reflects upon the genial ray
That firft enliven'd this aufpicious day;
On that bright ftar to whofe indulgent pow'r
We owe the bleffings of the prefent hour;
Concurring omens of propitious fate
Bore with one facred birth an equal date;
Whence we derive whatever we poffefs
By foreign conqueft or domestick peace.
Then, Britain! then thy dawn of blifs begun; 35 Then broke the morn that lighted up this fun; Then was it doom'd whofe councils should fucceed, And by whofe arm the Chriftian world be freed; Then the fierce foe was preordain'd to yield, And then the battle won at Blenheim's glorious field.
Queen's Theatre in the Hay-market with an Italian paftoral.
SPOKEN BY MRS. BRACEGIRDLE.
WHATEVER future fate our house may find,
At prefent we expect you should be kind;
Inconftancy itself can claim no right
Before enjoyment and the wedding-night.
You must be fix'd a little ere you range;
You must be true till you have time to change.
A week at leaft; one night is fure too foon,
But we pretend not to a honey-moon.
To novelty we know you can be true,
But what, alas! or who, is always new?
This day, without prefumption. we pretend
With novelty entire you 're entertain'd;
For not alone our house and scenes are new,
Our song and dance, but ev'n our actors too.
Our play itself has fomething in 't uncommon,
Two faithful lovers, and one conftant woman.
In fweet Italian ftrains our fhepherds fing
Of harmless loves, our painted forefts ring,
In notes, perhaps, lefs foreign than the thing.
To found and fhow at first we make pretence, 20
In time we may regale you with some sense,
But that, at prefent, were too great expense.
We only fear the beaus may think it hard
To be to-night from smutty jefts debarr'd;
But in good breeding, sure, they 'll once excufe 25
Ev'n modefty, when in a stranger Muse.
The day's at hand when we shall shift the scene,
And to yourselves fhow your dear felves again;
Paint the reverse of what you've seen to-day,
And in bold frokes the vicious Town difplay.
SFOKEN BY MRS. VERBRUGGEN.
You fee we try all fhapes, and shifts, and arts,
To tempt your favours and regain your hearts.
We weep, and laugh, join mirth and grief together,
Like rain and funshine mix'd in April weather.
Your different taftes divide our poet's cares;
One foot the fock, t' other the buskin wears:
Thus while he strives to please, he 's forc'd to do 't,
Like Volfcius, hip-hop in a fingle boot.
Criticks, he knows, for this may damn his books; But he makes feasts for friends, and not for cooks. 10
Tho' errant-knights of late no favour find,
Sure you will be to ladies-errant kind.
To follow fame knights-errant make profession,
We damfels fly to fave our reputation;
So they their valour fhow, we our difcretion. I
To lands of monfters and fierce beafts they go,
We to those islands where rich husbands
grow: Tho' they're no monsters we may make them fo. If they're of English growth they'll bear 't with pa
But fave us from a fpoufe of Oroonoko's nations! 20
Then blefs your ftars, you happy London Wives!
Who love at large each day, yet keep your lives;
Nor envy poor Imoinda's doting blindness,
Who thought her husband kill'd her out of kindnefs.
Death with a husband ne'er had fhown fuch charms,
Had the once dy'd within a lover's arms:
Her errour was from ignorance proceeding;
Poor Soul! fhe wanted fome of our Town breeding.
Forgive this Indian's fondness of her fpoufe ;'
Their law no Chriftian liberty allows :
Alas! they make a confcience of their vows!
If virtue in a Heathen be a fault,
Then damn the Heathen fchool where she was taught. She might have learn❜d to cuckold, jilt, and sham), Had Covent-Garden heen in Surinam.
To found and fhow at firft we make pretence, 20
In time we may regale you with some sense,
But that, at prefent, were too great expense.
We only fear the beaus may think it hard
To be to-night from fmutty jefts debarr'd;
But in good breeding, fure, they'll once excufe 25
Ev'n modefty, when in a stranger Muse.
The day's at hand when we fhall fhift the fcene,
And to yourselves fhow your dear felves again;
Paint the reverse of what you've seen to-day,
And in bold frokes the vicious Town difplay.
SFOKEN BY MRS. VERBRUGGEN.
You fee we try all shapes, and fhifts, and arts, To tempt your favours and regain your hearts. We weep, and laugh, join mirth and grief toge Like rain and funshine mix'd in April weather. Your different taftes divide our poet's cares; One foot the fock, t' other the bufkin wears: Thus while he strives to please, he's forc'd to Like Volfcius, hip-hop in a fingle boot.
Criticks, he knows, for this may damn his bo But he makes feafts for friends, and not for co
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