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Bought a good book, that on a Christian plan
fin a sinner's name he tack'd,
'Tis said, when winds the troubled deep deform, Pour copious streams of oil, 'twill lay the storm : Thus here, let Mirth and frank Good-humour's balm Make cenfure mild, scorn kind, and anger calm! Some wholesome Bitters if the Bard produces, 'Tis only Wormwood to correct the juices.
In this day's contest, where, in colours new, Three Play-House Candidates are brought to view, Our little Bayes encounters fome Disgrace : Should You reject him too, I mourn his CaseHe can be chosen for no other place.
To TWO TO ONE, a Comedy, written by
G. COLMAN, Jun.
Spoken by Mr. PALMER,
TONIGHT, as Heralds tell, a Virgin Muse,
An untrain's youth, a new advent'rer fues; Green in his one-and-twenty, scarce of age, Takes bis first Flight, half-Aedg’d, upon the Stage. Within this little Round, the Parent Bird Hath warbled oft; oft patiently you heard; And as he strove to raise his eager throat, Your kind Applause made Mufick of his note. But now, with beating Heart, and anxious Eye, He sees his vent'rous Youngling strive to fly; Like Dædalus, a Father's fears he brings, A Father's hopes, and fain would plume his Wings.
How vain, alas, his Hopes! his Fears how vain! 'Tis You must hear, and hearing judge the strain, Your equal Justice finks or lifts his name, Your Frown's a Sentence, your Applause is Famę.
If Humour warms his scenes with genial fire,
OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE, To the Tragedy of TANCRED and SIGISMUNDA,
and the COMEDY of the GUARDIAN, revived at the THEATRE ROYAL, HAY-MARKET, July 12, 1784.
Spoken by Mr. BANNISTER, Jun.
F anxious for his Sigismunda's fate,
Your Tancred for awhile foregoes his state; If, like Prince Prettyman, he risques your scoff, Half-buskin'd-one boot on, and t'other off ; You, who can judge a young advent'rer's fears, You, who've oft felt a female's fighs and tears, Will hear a suppliant, who for mercy sues, Courting your favour through the Tragick Muse.
Across the vast Atlantick she was led, With blank-verse, blood-bowls, daggers, in her head! And as the past in storms the Western Ocean, Felt her rapt soul, like that, in wild commotion ! But now an awful calm succeeds; and draws, In this dread interval, a solemn pause. Within these feas, what various peril shocks! Dire Critick shoals, and Actor-marring rocks!
Alas! no chart or compass she can boast;