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• Do blue-eyed doves, serenely mild,
With vultures fell engage ?
Or tempt the tiger's rage?
To secret cells remove;
'Twixt Chastity and Love.'
AMPHITRYON. AMPHITRYON and his bride, a godlike pair! He brave as Mars, and she as Venus fair; On thrones of gold in purple triumph placed, With matchless splendour held the nuptial feast : Whilst the high roof with loud applauses rung, Enraptured, thus, the happy hero sung
• Was mighty Jove descending
In all his wrath divine,
To call this charmer mine;
With boldness I'd deride:
The hearts that love has tied.'
down, Till beauty's glance disarm'd his awful frown. The magic impulse of Alcmena's eyes Compell’d the conquer'd god to quit his skies; He feign'd the husband's form, possess'd her
charms, And punish'd his presumption in her arms.
And thus the friendly goddess bids me greet ye; 'Tis in that circle [pointing to the Boxes] she de
signs to meet ye: Pedants would fix her residence with heathens, But she prefers old York to Rome or Athens.
SPOKEN AT THE
OPENING OF A THEATRE AT WHITBY.
The tragic Muse presents a stately mirror,
class-dissected: It marks the fair coquette's unfaithful dealings, And proves that haughty prudes may have their
failings. For faults that flow from habit more than nature, We'll blend with honest mirth some wholesome
Now for our bark—the vessel's tight and able ! New built!--new rigg'd [Pointing to the Scenes]
with canvass, mast, and cable! Let her not sink-or be unkindly stranded, , Before the moral freight be fairly landed ! For though with heart and hand we heave together,
[ther: 'Tis your kind plaudit must command the weaNor halcyon seas, nor gentle gales attend us, Till this fair circle with their smiles befriend us.
OPENING OF THE SAME THEATRE.
O’ER the wild waves, unwilling more to roam,
Such are the joys that in our bosoms burn! Such the glad hopes that glow at our return! With such warm ardours you behold us meet, To lay, once more, our labours at
feet. (Not without hopes your patronage will last) We bend with gratitude for favours past. That our light bark defied the rage of winter, Rode every gale-nor started e'en a splinter;
We bow to Beauty-('twas those smiles secured her)
[her. And thank our patrons who so kindly moor’d Still-still-extend your gentle cares to save her, That she may anchor long in Whitby's-favour.
SPOKEN IN THE
CHARACTER OF A SAILOR, ON OPENING THE NEW THEATRE AT NORTH SHIELDS.
[Without. Hollo! my masters, where d’ye mean to stow us ? We're come to see what pastime ye can show us; Sal, step aloft-you shan't be long without me, I'll walk their quarter deck and look about me.
[Enters. Tom and Dick Topsail are above-I hear them, Tell them to keep a birth, and Sal—sit near them: Sal's a smart lass—I'd hold a butt of stingo, In three weeks' time she'd learn the playhouse lingo:
[meaning, She loves your plays, she understands their She calls them-Moral Rules made entertaining : Your Shakspeare books, she knows them to a
tittle; And I myself, at sea, have read a little.
At London, sirs, when Sal and I were courting, I tow'd her every night a playhouse sporting: Mass! I could like them and their whole’Paratus, But for their fiddlers and their damn'd Sonatas; Give merry sons of guts and rosin, That play— God save the King,' and · Nancy [Looking about. Well-though the frigate's not so much be
dizen'd, 'Tis snug enough—’tis clever for the size on't: And they can treat with all that's worth regarding On board the Drury Lane or Common Garden.
[Bell rings. Avast!--a signal for the launch, I fancy : What say you' Sam and Dick and Doll and
Nancy? Since they have trimm'd the pleasure barge so
tightly, Shan't you and I and Sal come see them nightly? The jolly crew will do their best endeavours, They'll grudge no labour to deserve your favours: A luckier fate they swear can ne'er behap them Than to behold you pleased, and hear you clap
TO · LOVE AND FAME.'
SPOKEN AT SCARBOROUGH.
[Entering. Where is this author ?-bid the wretch appear, Let him come in, and wait for judgment—here. This awful jury, all impatient, wait; Let him come in, I say, and meet his fate! Strange, very strange, if such a piece succeeds! (Punish the culprit for his vile misdeeds) Know ye to-night, that his presumptuous works Have turn'd good Christians into - Heathen Turks?
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