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Go ask your manager.'—Who, me! Your pardon:
These things are not our forte at Covent-Garden.'
Our author's friends, thus plac'd at happy distance,
Give him good words indeed, but no assistance.
As some unhappy wight at some new play,
At the pit door stands elbowing away,
While oft, with many a smile, and many a shrug,
He eyes the centre, where his friends sit snug;
His simpering friends, with pleasure in their eyes, .
Sink as he sinks, and as he rises rise ;
He nods, they nod; he cringes, they grimace;
But not a soul will budge to give him place.
Since then, unhelp'd, our hard must now conform
“ To bide the pelting of this pitiless storm,"
Blame where you must, be candid where you can,
And be each critic the Good-natur'd Man.
EPILOGUE TO THE COMEDY OF SHE
STOOPS TO CONQUER.
WELL, having stoop'd to conquer with success,
And gain'd a husband without aid from dress,
Still, as a barmaid, I could wish it too,
As I have conquer'd him, to conquer you:
And let me say, for all your resolution,
That pretty barmaids have done execution.
Our life is all a play, compos’d to please ;
“We have our exits and our entrances.'
The first act shows the simple country maid,
Harmless and young, of every thing afraid ;
Blushes when hir'd, and, with unmeaning action,
'I hope as how to give you satisfaction.
Her second act displays a livelier scene,
Th’ unblushing barmaid of a country inn,
Who whisks about the house, at market caters,
Talks loud, coquets the guests, and scolds the
Next the scene shifts to town, and there she soars,
The chop-house toast of ogling connoisseurs.
On 'squires and cits she there displays her arts,
And on the gridiron broils her lovers' hearts;
And as she smiles, her triumphs to complete,
Even common-councilmen forget to eat.
The fourth act shows her wedded to the 'squire,
And madam now begins to hold it higher;
Pretends to taste, at operas cries caro!
And quits her Nancy Dawson for Che Faro.
Dotes upon dancing, and, in all her pride,
Swims round the room, the Heinel' of Cheapside;
Ogles and leers with artificial skill,
Till, having lost in age the power to kill,
She sits all night at cards, and ogles at spadille.
Such, through our lives, the eventful history!
The fifth and last act still remains for me:
The barmaid now for your protection prays,
Turns female barrister, and pleads for bays.
INTENDED EPILOGUE TO “SHE STOOPS TO
Enter Mrs. Bulkley, who curtsies very low, as beginning to
speak. Then enter Miss Catley, who stands full before her, and curtsies to the audience.
MRS. BULKLEY. HOLD, Ma'am, your pardon. What's your busi
MISS CATLEY. Yes, the Epilogue, my dear.
MRS. BULKLEY. Sure you mistake, Ma'am. The Epilogue, I bring it.
MISS CATLEY. Excuse me, Ma'am. The author bid me sing it.
RECITATIVE. Ye beaux and belles, that form this splendid ring, Suspend your conversation while I sing.
MRS. BULKLEY Why, sure the girl's beside herself: an Epilogue
of singing? A hopeful end indeed to such a blest beginning. Besides, a singer in a comic set ! Excuse me, Ma'am, I know the etiquette.
MISS CATLEY. What if we leave it to the House?
MRS. BULKLEY. The House! — Agreed.
And she, whose party 's largest, shall proceed.
· And first, I hope, you'll readily agree
I've all the critics and the wits for me.
They, I am sure, will answer my commands:
Ye candid judging few, hold up your hands.
What! no return? I find, too late, I fear,
That modern judges seldom enter here.
I'm for a different set, - old men, whose trade is Still to gallant and dangle with the ladies.
RECITATIVE. Who mump their passion, and who, grimly smiling, Still thus address the fair with voice beguiling :