But, pray whom have they pilfer'd? A Doctor, I hear;
What, yon solemn-faced odd-looking man that stands near?
The same.
What a pity! How does it surprise one!
Two handsomer culprits I never set eyes on!

Then their friends all come round me with cringing and leering,

To melt me to pity and soften my swearing.

First Sir Charles advances with phrases well strung,
Consider, dear Doctor, the girls are but young.
The younger the worse, I return him again,
It shews that their habits are all dyed in grain;
But then they're so handsome, one's bosom it grieves :
What signifies handsome when people are thieves!
But where is your justice? Their cases are hard;
What signifies justice ?-I want the reward.

There's the parish of Edmonton offers forty poundThere's the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch, offers forty pound-There's the parish of Tyburn, from the Hog in the Pound to St. Giles's Watchhouse, offers forty poundI shall have all that if I convict them.

But consider their case, it may yet be your own, And see how they kneel; is your heart made of stone? This moves; so at last I agree to relent,

For ten pounds in hand and ten pounds to be spent.

I challenge you all to answer this. I tell you, you cannot. It cuts deep; but now for the rest of the letter; and next-but I want room. So I believe I shall battle the rest out at Barton some day next week.—I don't value you all.

O. G.

EPILOGUE

TO

"SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER; OR THE MISTAKES OF A NIGHT,”

Spoken by Mrs. Bulkley, in the Character of Mrs. Hardcastle.(1).

Well, having stooped to conquer with success,
And gain'd a husband without aid from dress,
Still, as a bar-maid, I could wish it too,
As I have conquer'd him to conquer you :
And let me say, for all your resolution,
That pretty bar-maids have done execution.
Our life is all a play, compos'd to please,
"We have our exits and our entrances.'
The first act shows the simple country maid,
Harmless and young, of every thing afraid;
Blushes when hir'd, and with unmeaning action,
"I hopes as how to give you satisfaction.”

(1) [This comedy was first acted at Covent Garden Theatre, on the 15th of March 1773. In a letter to Mr. Craddock, written immediately after the representation of the piece, Goldsmith says:-" I thank you sincerely for your epilogue, which, however, could not be used, but with your permission shall be printed. The story in short is this; Murphy sent me rather the outline of an epilogue than an epilogue, which was to be sung by Mrs. Catley, and which she approved. Mrs. Bulkley hearing this, insisted on throwing up her part, unless, according to the custom of the theatre, she were permitted to speak the epilogue. In this embarrassment I thought of making a Quarrelling Epilogue between Catley and her, debating who should speak the epilogue, but then Miss Catley refused after I had taken the trouble of drawing it out. I was then at a loss indeed; an epilogue was to be made, and for none but Mrs. Bulkley. I made one, and Colman thought it too bad to be spoken; I was obliged, therefore, to try a fourth time, and I made a very mawkish thing as you'll shortly see. Such is the history of my stage adventures, and which I have at last done with. I cannot help saying that I am very sick of the stage; and though I believe I shall get three tolerable benefits, yet I shall on the whole be a loser, even in a pecuniary light; my ease and comfort I certainly lost while it' was in agitation." See Life, ch. xxii.]

Her second act displays a livelier scene—
The unblushing bar-maid of a country inn,
Who whisks about the house, at market caters,

Talks loud, coquets the guests, and scolds the waiters.
Next the scene shifts to town, and there she soars,
The chop-house toast of ogling connoisseurs.
On 'squires and cits she there displays her arts,
And on the gridiron broils her lovers' hearts—
And as she smiles, her triumphs to complete,
E'en common-councilmen forget to eat.
The fourth act shows her wedded to the 'squire,
And madam now begins to hold it higher;
Pretends to taste, at operas cries caro!

And quits her Nancy Dawson, for Che Faro:
Doats upon dancing, and in all her pride
Swims round the room, the Heinel of Cheapside:
Ogles and leers 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 bays.

EPILOGUE

TO

66 SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER,"

Intended to be spoken by Mrs. Bulkley and Miss Calley.(1)

Enters Mrs. BULKLEY, who curtsies very low as beginning to speak. Then enters Miss CATLEY, who stands full before her, and curtsies to the Audience.

Mrs. BULKLEY.

HOLD, Ma'am, your pardon. What's your business here?

Excuse me, Ma'am. The Author bid me sing it.

RECITATIVE.

Ye beaux and belles, that form this splendid ring,
Suspend your conversation while I sing.

Mrs. BULKLEY.

Why, sure the girl's beside herself! an Epilogue of singing, A hopeful end indeed to such a blest beginning.

(1) [This is the "Quarrelling Epilogue" to which allusion is made by Goldsmith in the preceding note. A copy, in his own hand-writing, given to the late Dr. Farr, who was a fellow student at Edinburgh, remains in the family of that gentleman.]

Besides, a sinner in a comic set

Excuse me, Ma'am, I know the etiquette.

Miss CATLEY.

What if we leave it to the house?

Mrs. BULKLEY.

The house!-Agreed.

Miss CATLEY.

Mrs. BULKLEY.

And she whose party's largest shall proceed.
And first, I hope you'll readily agree
I've all the critics and the wits for me.
They, I am sure, will answer my commands s;
Ye candid judging few, hold up your hands.
What! no return? I find too late, I fear,
That modern judges seldom enter here.

Miss CATLEY.

I'm for a different set.-Old men, whose trade is
Still to gallant and dangle with the ladies.

Who

RECITATIVE.

Agreed.

mump their passion, and who, grimly smiling, Still thus address the fair with voice beguiling.

AIR.-Cotillon.

Turn my fairest, turn, if ever
Strephon caught thy ravish'd eye,
Pity take on your swain so clever,
Who without your aid must die.

Yes I shall die, hu, hu, hu, hu.
Yes, I must die, ho, ho, ho, ho.

Da Capo.