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To the COMEDY called A FRIEND in NEED is a FRIEND
Spoken by Mrs. BULK L E Y.
WOMAN, of all who feel the Hour of Need,
Wants most, most rarely finds, a Friend Indeed;
Too well the Beldam knows the treach'rous art,
-“ Pooh! pooh! (cries Citpup) this is all a lie! « Poets and Painters will make free-Oh fie! “ Poor souls! they love to bounce, and think they
railly ; “ Nothing but Truth and Honour in 'Change
Alley ! " Plump Marg'ry at a monstrous Premium went“ Prodigious interest -almost Cent per Cent. « I found her poor, not bleft with Halt a Crown; “ Stampt her my own, and broughth:r upon Town“ Made her as fine as hands, or gold, could make
her« Built her a Coach---a grand one !-in Long-Acre! " Marg'ry's good fortunes allon me depend ; “ I ruin'd her--and am her only Friend."
Happy the high-born fair, whose ample dower, Pours in her wealthy lap a Golden Shower! While many a friend, fincere no doubt, surrounds Her thousand charms--and hundred thousand pounds : But she, who pines in want, whose early bloom Deceit would canker, or Distress confume,
Let jealous fears her ev'ry step attend,
A COMEDY written by Mr. O'KEEFFE,
OLD Crab, a Critick, looking o’er our Bill,
Thus vents his angry Spleen, and rails his fill. “ A Comedy ! -The man's too bold by halfI can't bear Comedies that make me laugh. I doubt, my friend, he'll make both me and you fick Farce is his province, and a Farce with Mufick. Hay-market ! --Zounds the Fellow makes me fretWhere's Mrs. Bannister, Miss George, and Brett? Edwin's songs, fal, lal, tag, rag, all Concetto ! Charles Bannister's bold Bass, and droll Falsetto? Five Aets!-a bore !_and are bis Scenes so long, There's no room edgeways to squeeze in a song? Make it two Farces! Cut it in the middle! Nor play a Solo thus without a Fiddle.”
Our Bard 'tis true first woo'd the Publick here, And here their smiles have oft difpellid his fear: Of sportive Farce he seem'd the fav’rite Child, And with a song your easy ears beguild.
To-night, not dreaming of a grand essay,
bows in league Have pip'd, and scrap'd whole hours without fatigue, Take breath, to-night! Cease wind, and cat-gut
aid. And you to the audience] who fit in many an
aweful Row Enthron'd above [galleries] or on the Bench below;
[Boxes. Good men and true of our Dramatick Pannel, (Pit. Let not your mercy leave its ancient channel !: If by some chance or impulse-Heav'n knows whenced Our Bard quits Sound, and wanders into Sense; If Wit and Humour on the surface flow, While folid Sense and Moral lurk below, Let him be pardon'd! nor your verdict dread, Tho' Farce, sometimes pops in her waggish head! By Mildness you shall teach him to succeed, And write hereafter-Comedies indeed!