MEM AOKK

1

PRE FAC E.

WHEN I undertook to write a comedy, I con

fefs I was strongly prepoffeffed in favour of the poets of the laft age, and ftrove to imitate them, The term, genteel comedy, was then unknown amongst us, and little more was desired by an audience, than nature and humour, in whatever walks of life they were moft confpicuous.

The author of the follow

ing scenes never imagined that more would be expected of him, and therefore to delineate character. has been his principal aim. Those who know any thing of compofition, are fenfible, that in pursuing humour, it will fometimes lead us into the receffes of the mean; I was even tempted to look for it in the master of a fpunging houfe: but in deference to the public tafte, grown of late, perhaps, too delicate, the scene of the bailiffs was retrenched in the reprefentation. In deference alfo to the judgment of a few friends, who think in a particular way, the fcene is here reftored. The author fubmits it to the

reader

reader in his clofet; and hopes that too much refinement will not banish humour and character from ours, as it has already done from the French theatre. Indeed the French comedy is now become fo very elevated and fentimental, that it has not only ba nished humour and Moliere from the ftage, but it has banished all spectators too.

Upon the whole, the author returns his thanks to the public for the favourable reception which the Good-Natur'd Man has met with: and to Mr. Colman in particular, for his kindness to it. It may not also be improper to affure any, who fhall hereafter write for the theatre, that merit, or fuppofed merit, will ever be a fufficient paffport to his protection.

PRO

PREST by the load of life, the weary mind

Surveys the general toil of human kind;
With cool fubmiffion joins the lab'ring train,
And focial forrow, lofes half its pain:

Our anxious bard, without complaint, may fhare
This bustling feafon's epidemic care,
Like Cæfar's pilot, dignify'd by fate,

Toft in one common ftorm with all the great ;
Diftreft alike, the ftatefman and the wit,

When one a borough courts, and one the pit.
The bufy candidates for power and fame,

Have hopes, and fears, and wishes, juft the fame ;
Difabled both to combat, or to fly,

Must hear all taunts, and hear without reply. Uncheck'd on both, loud rabbles vent their rage, As mongrels bay the lion in a cage.

;

Th' offended burgess hoards his angry tale,
For that bleft year when all that vote may rail
Their schemes of fpite the poet's foes difmifs,
Till that glad night, when all that hate may hifs.

"This day the powder'd curls and golden coat," Says fwelling Crifpin, "begg'd a cobler's vote." "This night, our wit," the pert apprentice cries, "Lies at my feet, I hifs him, and he dies."

The great, 'tis true, can charm th' electing tribe;
The bard may fupplicate, but cannot bribe.
Yet judg'd by thofe, whofe voices ne'er were fold,
He feels no want of ill-perfuading gold;

But confident of praife, if praise be due,
Trufts without fear, to merit, and to you.