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• What's to be done ? (poor Carvel cried)
Forthwith the devil did appear,
· Hans Carvel, lay aside your grief, (The devil says); I bring relief.' • Relief! (says Hans); pray let me crave Your name, sir ??--'Satan.'— Sir,
slave. I did not look upon your You'll pardon memAy, now I see't. And pray, sir, when came you from hell ? Our friends there, did you leave them well ?' • All well; but, pr’ythee, honest Hans, (Says Satan) leave your complaisance : The truth is this; I cannot stay Flaring in sunshine all the day, For, entre nous, we hellish sprites Love more the fresco of the nights, And oftener our receipts convey In dreams, than any other way. I tell you, therefore, as a friend, Ere morning dawns your fears shall end :
Go then this evening, Master Carvel,
Away went Hans; glad not a little ;
In bed then view this happy pair,
Appear’d to honest Hans again,
business to a hair; For long as you this ring shall wear, As sure as I look over Lincoln, That ne'er shall happen which you
think on.' Hans took the ring with joy extreme, (All this was only in a dream) And thrusting it beyond his joint, « 'Tis done, (he cried); I've gain'd my point.”— • What point, (said she) you ugly beast? You neither give me joy nor rest.' • 'Tis done,'—What's done, you drunken bear? You've thrust your finger knows where!
Prologues and Epilogues.
SPOKEN BY LORD BUCKHURST,
In Westminster-School, at Christmas, 1695, in the Character of Cleonidas, in Mr, Dryden's Cleomenes.
RLY Pish; Lord, I wish this Prologue was but Greek, Then young Cleonidad quld
boldly speak : But can Lord Buckhurst in poot English say,
Gentle Spectators, pray excuse the play?' No, witness all ye gods of ancient Greece, Rather than condescend to terms like these, I'd go to school six hours on Christmas-day, Or construe Persius while my comrades play. Such work by hireling actors should be done, Who tremble when they see a critic frown: Poor rogues, that smart like fencers for their bread, And, if they are not wounded, are not fed. But, sirs, our labour has more noble ends, We act our tragedy to see our friends : Our generous scenes are for pure love repeated, And if you are not pleased, at least you're treated. The candles and the clothes ourselves we bought, Our tops neglected, and our balls forgot. To learn our parts we left our midnight bed; Most of you snored whilst Cleomenes read:
Not that from this confession we would sue
little hero does inherit Not Cleomenes’ more than Dorset's spirit.
SPOKEN AT COURT BEFORE THE QUEEN,
ON HER MAJESTY'S BIRTH-DAY,
for ever run,
SHINE forth, ye planets, with distinguish'd light,