Doats upon dancing, and in all her pride

Swims round the room, the Heinel of Cheapside;
Ogles and lcers with artificial skill,

Till, having lost in age the power to kill,
She sits all night at cards, and ogles at spadille.
Such through our lives the eventful history-
The fifth and last act still remains for me.
The bar-maid now for your protection prays,
Turns female Barrister, and pleads for Bayes.*

EPILOGUE SPOKEN BY MR LEE LEWES.+
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?
Nature disowns, and reason scorns thy mirth.
In thy black aspect every passion sleeps―
The joy that dimples, and the wo that weeps.
How hast thou fill'd the scene with all thy brood
Of fools pursuing, and of fools pursued!
Whose ins and outs no ray of sense discloses,
Whose only plot it is to break our noses;
Whilst from below the trap-door demons rise,
And from above the dangling deities.
And shall I mix in this unhallow'd crew?
May rosin'd lightning blast me if I do!

* A character in Buckingham's "Rehearsal." The name had become in Goldsmith's time synonymous with dramatist. It is used in this sense both by Garrick and Colman.

In the character of Harlequin, at his benefit, May 7, 1772.

No-I will act, I'll vindicate the stage:
Shakspere himself shall feel my tragic rage.
Off! off! vile trappings! a new passion reigns!
The maddening monarch revels in my veins.
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 is no retreating;

If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating.

'Twas thus that Æsop'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.

How piercing is that eye; how sleek that brow!
My horns! I'm told horns are the fashion now."
Whilst thus he spoke, astonish'd, to his view,

Near, and more near, the hounds and huntsmen drew;
"Hoicks! hark forward!" came thundering from behind,
He bounds aloft, outstrips the fleeting wind;

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;

Whilst his strong limbs conspire to set him free,
And at one bound he saves himself like me.

[Taking a jump through the stage-door.

The shouting army cried with joy extreme:
He sure must conquer, who himself can tame!

II.t

They knew and own'd the monarch of the main.
The sea, subsiding, spreads a level plain;
The curling waves before his coursers fly;
The parting surface leaves his brazen axle dry.

Say, heavenly muse, their youthful frays rehearse;
Begin, ye daughters of immortal verse.

Exulting rocks have own'd the power of song,

And rivers listen'd as they flow'd along.

IV.§

Thus, when soft love subdues the heart
With smiling hopes and chilling fears,

The soul rejects the aid of art,

And speaks in moments more than years.

"The Bee," 1759. From a French version of Homer. +"Miscellaneous Works." From Homer-proposed as an emendation of Pope.

Ibid. From the Latin of Vida.

§ Scarròn's Comical Romance, 1775.

V.*

Of all the fish that graze beneath the flood,
He, only, ruminates his former food.

VI.t

Chaste are their instincts, faithful is their fire,
No foreign beauty tempts to false desire;
The snow-white vesture, and the glittering crown,
The simple plumage, or the glossy down,
Prompt not their love; the patriot bird pursues
His well-acquainted tints and kindred hues.

Hence through their tribes no mix'd polluted flame,
No monster-breed to mark the groves with shame—
But the chaste blackbird, to its partner true,
Thinks black alone is beauty's favourite hue;
The nightingale, with mutual passion bless'd,
Sings to its mate, and nightly charms the nest;
While the dark owl to court his partner flies,
And owns his offspring in their yellow eyes.

* "History of the Earth and Animated Nature," 1774. From Ovid.

Ibid. From the Latin of Addison.