Dancing Master. I have nothing to do with that; I'll have him dance, or have his blood. Sourby. The rascal! (muttering.) Jenny. Sir, I can't work upon him; the madman will not hear reason; some harm will happen-we are alone. Sourby. 'Tis very true. Jenny. Look on him; he has an ill look. Sourby. He has so (trembling). Dancing Master. Make haste, I say, make haste. Jenny. Aye, you may cry for help; do you know that all your neighbours would be glad to see you robbed and your throat cut? Believe me, Sir, two Allemande steps may save your life. Sourby. But if it should come to be known, I should be taken for a fool. Jenny. Love excuses all follies; and I have heard say that when Hercules was in love, he spun for Queen Omphale. Sourby. Yes, Hercules spun, but Hercules did not dance the Allemande. Jenny. Well, you must tell him so; the gentleman will teach you another. Dancing Master. Will you have a minuet, Sir? Sourby. A minuet; no. Dancing Master. The loure. Sourby. The loure; no. Dancing Master. The passay! Sourby. The passay; no. Dancing Master. What then? the trocanny, the tricotez, the rigadon? Come, choose, choose. Sourby. No, no, no, I like none of these. Dancing Master. You would have a grave, serious dance, perhaps? Sourby. Yes, a serious one, if there be any—but a very serious dance. Dancing Master. Well, the courante, the hornpipe, the brocane, the saraband? Sourby. No, no, no! Dancing Master. What the devil then will you have? But make haste, or-death! Sourby. Come on then, since it must be so; I'll learn a few steps of the-the Dancing Master. What of the-the- Dancing Master. You mock me, Sir; you shall dance the Allemande, since Clarissa will have it so, or [He leads him about, the fiddle playing the Allemande. Sourby. I shall be laughed at by the whole town if it should be known. I am determined, for this frolic, to deprive Clarissa of that invaluable blessing, the possession of my person. Dancing Master. Come, come, Sir, move, move. (Teaching him.) Sourby. Cockatrice! Dancing Master. One, two, three! (Teaching.) Enter Wentworth. Oh! brother, you are come in good time to free me from this cursed bondage. Wentworth. How! for shame, brother, at your age to be thus foolish. Sourby. As I hope for mercy Wentworth. For shame, for shame-practising at sixty what should have been finished at six ? Dancing Master. He's not the only grown gentleman I have had in hand. Wentworth. Brother, brother, you'll be the mockery of the whole city. Sourby. Eternal babbler! hear me; this curs'd, confounded villain will make me dance perforce. Wentworth. Perforce! Sourby. Yes; by order, he says, of Clarissa; but since I now find she is unworthy, I give her up-renounce her for ever. "The young [Prior sums up the rest of the play thus:couple enter immediately after this declaration, and finding no farther obstruction to their union, the piece finishes with the consent of the Grumbler, ' in the hope,' as he says, 'that they are possessed of mutual requisites to be the plague of each other.'"-ED.'] John Quick, of whom this piece may be said to constitute a memorial, died in 1831, aged 83. He retired from the stage in 1798, having acquired a fortune of £10,000. He lived during his later years at Hornsey (afterwards Will's) Row, Islington, and for many years was wont to preside at convivial meetings held at the Old King's Head, opposite Islington Church. Beside Tony Lumpkin, he was famous in Isaac Mendoza, Bob Acres, and such characters. Genest says he had not much variety, but his oddity of appearance and voice made people laugh. Boaden speaks of him as "the favourite comedian of his late majesty" (George III.). With Quick's Whim,' a pamphlet, of about the year 1795, purporting to give the "Jokes and Stories" uttered by the comedian, he, probably, had little or nothing to do, otherwise this collection might have contained something about Goldsmith.-ED. THE BEE: BEING ESSAYS ON THE MOST INTERESTING SUBJECTS. Floriferis ut Apes in saltibus omnia libant, ['The Bee' was a weekly periodical; but it ran for only eight weeks, from Oct. 6 to Nov. 24, 1759. The following advertisement announcing its appearance is from the London Chronicle: Saturday next, October the 6th, will be published (to be continued weekly, price three-pence), neatly printed in crown octavo, and on good paper, containing two sheets, or thirty-two pages, stitched in blue covers, Number I. of a new periodical paper, entitled— "THE BEE. Consisting of a variety of Essays on the Amusements, Follies, and Vices in fashion: particularly the most recent Topics of Conversation: Remarks on Theatrical Exhibitions: Memoirs of Modern Literature, &c., &c. Printed for J. Wilkie, at the Bible in St. Paul's Church Yard. * **The Publisher begs leave to inform the public, that every twelve numbers will make a handsome pocket volume, at the end of which shall be given an emblematical frontispiece, title, and table of contents. Letters to the author of the Bee, directed to J. Wilkie, as above (post-paid), will be duly regarded." Goldsmith, it is supposed, supplied the entire contents. Wilkie, the publisher, was also the publisher of the Lady's Magazine, to which Goldsmith was likewise a contributor, if not, for a time, editor. In December, 1759, the eight numbers of The Bee' were issued in a 12mo volume. We here print the entire work, excepting only the poetical pieces, which appear in our edition of the Poems. Our text is that of the original so far as regards most of the pieces. Goldsmith republished eight of the pieces in his Essays' in 1765 and 1766, and these we have omitted from our edition of the Essays' in order that they may appear here under their original heading. In doing this, however, we have thought that Goldsmith's latest form of these twice given pieces would be most acceptable. The text of the eight pieces in question, consequently, is for the most part that of the Essays' issue. The principal differences as between the first and the Essays' issue are indicated in the notes.-ED.] |