ANOTHER INTENDED EPILOGUE ΤΟ "SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER." To be spoken by Mrs. Bulkley. THERE is a place so Ariosto sings 1 A treasury for lost and missing things: Presented in MS., among other papers, to Dr. Percy, by the poet, and first printed in Miscellaneous Works," 1801. 2 At the Haymarket Theatre. 3 A favorite air, so called from the celebrated hornpipe-dancer of that name (died 1767). A London bully, or one of a set of London bullies, well known to the readers Here lesson'd for a while, and hence retreating, How can the piece expect or hope for quarter? 1 EPILOGUE. Spoken by Mr. Lee Lewes, in the character of Harlequin, at his Benefit. HOLD! prompter, hold! a word before your nonsense: My pride forbids it ever should be said My heels eclips'd the honors of my head; That I found humor 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— of Swift and the Spectator. The Mohawk of Goldsmith's time is admirably drawn by Arthur Murphy in a letter to Garrick dated 10th of April, 1769.Garrick Correspondence, i. 339. 1 First printed in Goldsmith's "Poetical and Dramatic Works," 1780. Messrs. Prior and Wright say that this epilogue was spoken 28th of May, 1774, twentyfour days after Goldsmith's death; but that was the occasion of its repetition. It was first spoken on the 17th of May, 1773. See Genest's "Account of the Stage," vol. v. p. 373. Charles Lee Lewes (died 1803) was the original Young Marlow in "She Stoops to Conquer." How hast thou fill'd the scene with all thy brood "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. 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; He bounds aloft, outstrips the fleeting wind: He quits the woods, and tries the beaten ways; [Taking a jump through the stage door. |