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Here Wisdom's, Virtue's awful voice
Inspired the youths of Cornwall's plains :
But sullen, death-like, silence reigns,
With eye incurious pass along;
And swell with softest sighs her song.
PROLOGUE to the "School for Arrogance."
VREAT news! Great news! Extraordinary news! [Sounds] Great news !-Pray, did you call, sirs ? Here am I? Of wants, and wanted, I've a large supply! Of fire and murder, marriage, birth, and death, Here's more than I can utter in a breath ! Rapes, riots, hurricanes, routs, rogues, and faro! Famine and fire in Turkey, and the plague at Cairo ! Here's tincture for the gums, which dentists make, Whose teeth eat most when other people's ache. Here are rich soups, hams, tongues, oils, sauce, sour crout; And here's the grand specific for the gout ! Here's turtle newly landed ; lamb house-fed : And here's a wife and five small children wanting bread: Wholesale and retail British spirits here: And here's the dying speech of poor small-beer! Here are tall men, short women, and fat oxen; And here are Sunday-schools, and schools for boxing. Here ruin'd rakes for helpmates advertise ; And only want 'em handsome, rich, and wise, Great news! Here's money ler on bond! rare news! By honest, tender-hearted, Christian Jews ! Here are promotions, dividends, rewards; A list of bankrupts, and of new-made lords. Here the debates at length are, for the week ; And here the deaf and dumb are taught to speak ! Here HAZARD, GOODLUCK, SHERGOLD, and a band Of gen'rous gentlemen, whose hearts expand With honour, rectitude, and public spirit, Equal in high desert, with equal merit,
Divide their tickets into shares and quarters ;
[Going, returns.] 'Sblud! I forgot-Great news again I say!
staff I'll act the trunkmaker, thump, roar, encore, and laugh!
The prompter's boy has call'd our Jack aside, And
says, the play's to cure the world of pride! That rich folks will no longer think they're born To crush the weak, and laugh the poor to scorn! The great 'twill teach that virtue, truth, and merit! They may perchance possess, but can't inherit! That learning, wisdom, genius, wit, and worth, Are far more rich and rare than ribbands, rank, and birth! Lord ! Lord! Who ever heard of such a scheme? Teach sense to wealth and pride! Your poets always dream ! Could he do this, there's no one will deny That news! strange news! would be the gen'ral cry. [Exit.
EPILOGUE to the same.
Me salute our gen'rous noble friends,
But to my text-The theme to-night is pride :
Of pride, which can such various forms assume,
Mounted aloft, the wonder of his age,
Of pride-one single sketch in crayons more,
Now at the bank, in anti-chamber kept, Where Pharaoh's host twelve tedious hours had slept, She seats herself, like palpitating lover, Eager the last night's losses to recover. “ No sense of virtue, dignity, or shame, “ Her greatest pride's her knowledge of the game, “ That pride most picqued, most mortified to see “ A nabob's wife stake larger sums than she !" And now three anxious hours have slipt away, Three hundreds have been lost in piddling play. No luck for her ! Aloud “ fresh cards !" she calls Her passions rising as her pocket falls. She punts: again she loses, and again! Oaths quiver on her lip! shę names the ten.
Stung to the soul, a desp'rate set she makes,
Here too we end, oblig'd ourselves to own,
- PROLOGUE to the “ Road to Ruin.” Spoken by Mr. Fawcett.
Enters, driving a boy across the stage.
AWAY! 'Sbappeare un for the author! We can do nothing till be
; Tell him in less than five minutes we shall have the house about our
[To the Audience.] O, Sirs ! the prompter has mislaid the prologue, and we are all a-mort. I suppose our friends above yonder will soon be making pretty sport! For pity's sake, suffer us to go on without it--Good, dear sirs, do! 'Twas most abominably dull-Zounds! there stands the writer. Well
'tis very true. One of our te-tum-ti heroes was to have spoken it, who measure out
nonsense by the yard ; 'And our chief hope was you'd make too much noise for it to be heard. The author had mounted on the stilts of oratory and elocution; Not but he had a smart touch or two about Poland, France, and the the
Revolution ; Telling us, that Frenchmen, and Polishmen, and every man is our
brother; And that all men, ay, even poor negroe men, have a right to be free:
one as well as another ! Freedom, at length, said he, like a torrent, is spreading and swelling, To sweep away pride, and reach the most miserable dwelling : To ease, happiness, art, science, wit, and genius to give birth ; Ay, to fertilize a world, and renovate old Earth!
Thus he went on, not mentioning a word about the play ; For he says prologues are blots which ought to be wip'd away; A Gothic practice, and in spite of precedent, not the better for being For, if tel] any part of the plot, it then becomes a tale twice told ! Vol. XXXIII.
And such twice telling can rarely once excite our wonder :
[Exit. EPILOGUE. Spoken by Mrs. Mattocks,
scenic faults and follies laid aside,
No widow now, nor disappointed bride,
-Yes, good advice is like a rainy day;