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“And you, ye knockers, that with brazen throat 66 The welcome visitor's approach denote, 66 Farewell !--all Quality of high renown, « Pride, Pomp, and circumstance of glorious Town, 66. Farewell!- your revels I partake no more, “ And Lady Teazle's occupation's o'er." All this I told our Bard; he smil'd, and said

'twas clear I ought to play deep Tragedy next year. Meanwhile he drew wise Morals from his Play, And in these solemn periods stalk'd away. “ Bleft were the fair, like you her faults who stopt, 66 And clos'd her follies when the curtain dropt ! * No more in vice or error to engage, “ Or play the Fool at large on Life's great Stage!".

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

On the opening of the THEATRE ROYAL in the HAY,

MARKET, May 15, 1777.

Spoken by Mr. PALMER.

RIDE, by a thousand arts, vain honours claims,

And gives to empty nothings pompous names. Theatrick Dealers thus would fain seem great, And every Playhouse grows a mighty State: To fancied heights howe'er mock monarchs foar, A Manager's a l'radernothing more. You (whom they court) their customers--and then We players--poor devils ! --are the journeymen.

While Two Great Warehouses, for Winter use, Eight months huge Bales of Merchandise produce, Out with the Swallow comes our Summer Bayes, To fhew his Taffata and Lutestring plays; A choice assortment of flight goods prepares, The smallest Haberdasher of Small Wares.

In Laputa we're told a grave Projector,
A mighty Schemer, like our New Director-

Once

T 2

Once form’d a plan—and 'twas a deep one, firs!
To draw the Sun-beams out of Cucumbers.
So whilst less vent'rous managers retire,
Our Salamander thinks to live in fire.

A playhouse Quidnunc and no Quidnuncs wiser
Reading our play-bills in the Advertiser,
Cries « Hey! what's here? In the Haymarket a play,
To sweat the Publick in the midst of May?
Give me fresh air !" then goes, and pouts alone
In country lodgings—by the Two-mile Stone:
There fits, and chews the cud of his disguft,
Broil'd in the sun, and blinded by the dust.

Dearee, says Mrs. Inkle, let us go To the Hay-market to-night and see the Show! Plha, woman, -cries old Inkle, you're a fool : We'll walk to Hornsey, and enjoy the cool. So faid, to finish the domestick strife, Forth waddle the fat spouse and fatter wife: And as they tug up Highgate-Hill together, He cries" delightful walking-charming weather !”

Now, with the napkin underneath the chin, Unbutton'd Cits their Turtle feast begin, And plunge full knuckle-deep thro' thick and thin; Throw down fish, flesh, fowl, pastry, custard, jelly, And make a Salmagundy of their belly.

“ More

“ More Chian-Pepper !-Punch, another rummer! “ So cool and pleasant-eating in the Summer !”.

To antient Geographers it was not known Mortals could live beneath the Torrid Zone: But we, tho' toiling underneath the Line, , Must make our Hay, now wbile the weather's fine. Your good Old Hay-maker, long here employ'd, The sunshine of your smiles who still enjoy'd, The fields which long he mow'd will not forsake, Nor quite forego the Scythe, the Fork, and Rake, But take the field, ev'n in the hottest day, And kindly help us to get in our hay.

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PROLOGUE TO THE SPANISH BARBER.

Spoken by Mr. Parsons in the Chara&ter of Paul PRIG,

in Mr. Foote's Comedy of The COZENERS.

September, 1777;

}

NC E more from Ludgate-Hill behold Paul Prig!

!
The same spruce ais you see ! fame coat! same

wig!
A Mercer smart and dapper, all allow,
As ever at shop door shot off a bow.
This summer-for I love a little Prance
This summer, gentlefolks, I've been to France,
To mark the Fashions and to learn to dance.
I, and dear Mrs. Prig—the first of Graces !
At Calais in the Diligence took places;
Travell’d thro' Boulogne, Amiens, and Chantilly,
All in a line-as straight as Piccadilly!
To Paris come, their dresses made me ftare
Their fav’rite colour is the French Queen's Hair !
They're all so fine, so fhabby, and so gay,
They look like Chimney-sweepers on May-day!
Silks of all colours in the rainbow there!
A Joseph's coat appears the common wear.

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