IN PROLOGUE TO ZOBEIDE, A TRAGEDY WRITTEN BY JOSEPH CRADDOCK, ESQ. N these bold times, when Learning's sons explore And fits his little frigate for adventures. With Scythian stores and trinkets deeply laden, To make an observation on the shore. Where are we driven? our reckoning sure is lost! [Upper Gallery. There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen 'em ; Here trees of stately size—and turtles in 'em ; [Pit. [Balconies. Here ill-condition'd oranges abound— [Stage. And apples, [Tasting one.] bitter apples, strew the ground; The place is uninhabited, I fear; I heard a hissing-there are serpents here. O there the natives are, a dreadful race; The men have tails, the women paint the face. No doubt they're all barbarians.-Yes, 'tis so; I'll try to make palaver with them though; [Making signs. 'Tis best, however, keeping at a distance : Good savages, our captain craves assistance; Our ship's well stored-in yonder creek we've laid her— His honour is no mercenary trader. This is his first adventure: lend him aid, And we may chance to drive a thriving trade. His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from far, Equally fit for gallantry and war. What, no reply to promises so ample? I'd best step back-and order up a sample. EPILOGUE SPOKEN BY MR. LEE LEWES, IN THE CHARACTER OF HARLEQUIN, HOLD, prompter, hold ! a word before your nonsense; I'd speak a word or two to ease my conscience. My pride forbids it ever should be said My heels eclipsed the honours of my head; That I found humour in a piebald vest, Or ever thought that jumping was a jest. [Takes off his mask. Whence, and what art thou, visionary birth? In thy black aspect every passion sleeps, Whilst from below the trapdoor demons rise, Oh for a Richard's voice to catch the theme: "Give me another horse! bind up my wounds!-soft ; 'twas but a dream." Ay, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating : If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating. 'Twas thus that Esop's stag, a creature blameless, Yet something vain, like one that shall be nameless, Once on the margin of a fountain stood, And cavill'd at his image in the flood: "The deuce confound," he cries, "these drumstick shanks! They never have my gratitude nor thanks; They're perfectly disgraceful! strike me dead! But for a head—yes, yes, I have a head : Near and more near the hounds and huntsmen drew; He quits the woods and tries the beaten ways; He starts, he pants, he takes the circling maze : At length, his silly head, so prized before, Is taught his former folly to deplore ; [Taking a jump through the stage-door. EPILOGUE TO THE COMEDY OF THE SISTERS. W WHAT! five long acts—and all to make us wiser! But how? ay, there's the rub! [pausing] I've got my cue : Lud, what a group the motley scene discloses ! Patriots in party-coloured suits that ride 'em : To raise a flame in Cupids of threescore; Miss, not yet full fifteen, with fire uncommon, The little urchin smiles, and spreads her lure, And tries to kill, ere she's got power to cure. * Written by Mrs. Charlotte Lennox. Yon broad, bold, angry spark, I fix my eye on, Strip but this visor off, and sure I am Yon politician, famous in debate, Perhaps to vulgar eyes bestrides the state; If with a bribe his candour you attack, [Mimicking He bows, turns round, and whip the man's in black! If I proceed, our bard will be undone : Well, then, a truce, since she requests it too— Do you spare her, and I'll for once spare you. |