300

"In clear obscure, a known unknown appear, "At once consulting vanity and fear;— "In learned dust, and pedant cobwebs lie, "And point the sting with scorpion cruelty?- 290 "What, imitate the slave of proud conceit ? "The shallow mind with airy visions cheat? "In fond self-love, like vain Narcissus pine? "And think the palms of verse, and genius mine? "Alas, such models have no charms for me, "Who want their learning, from their malice free. "Foe to concealment, I disdain a mask; "Nor, sway'd by enmities, a ponyard ask; "But, arm'd with thunders of the Volscian bard *, "To vice and folly deal their due reward. "My censures shall confound the guilty throng; "And virtuous bounty pay the moral song."Delusive hope! tho' these corrupted times Invite the painful touch of caustic rhimes; Far, far is satire from it's sway remov'd, That surly guardian by the Muses lov'd.The callous heart, which sometimes felt of yore, Is touch'd, and sham'd by ridicule no more. We laugh a moment, when, in bold relief, Invective shows the prostitute, or thief; And when the hunted miscreant rushes by, Like giddy sportsmen join the common cry. The momentary laugh enjoy'd, and past; Where rests the weight of obloquy at last? Not on th' offence-it's memory is fled. It sinks, redoubled, on the Poet's head. Safe, in their multitude, offenders croud, Of verse disdainful, against censure loud;

* Juvenal.

310

320

In manners soft, in nature hard as steel,
Without a head to think, or heart to feel,
Glaz'd o'er by cold refinement's hollow frost,
Th' essential traits of character are lost.
Fear, affectation, fashion, and grimace,
Give a false varnish, and a common face;
And vainly Wit her shining falchion draws,
When modish Vice becomes a public cause;
When giant crimes, that stalk in open noon,
Find Truth a libel, Satire a lampoon.
The hoary letchers, and adul'trous wives,
Should print, perchance, display their pictur'à lives.
Their virtue startles at the loose details;

Their pious rage
th' immodest bard assails.
They cannot trace-not they-poor simple elves,
In the loose sketch, the portraits of themselves.
With Mævius, Curio joins, in one accord,
The blasted Soldier, and the graceless Lord,
From prurient thorns to purge Pieria's plain,
And teach the Muse a dully decent strain.

But tow'ring high, in oriental state,
The spacious theatre unfolds it's gate;
Where the long pageant the vast stage displays,
Where tinsel glitters, and where lustres blaze.
At random thrown, to tempt the wand'ring eye,
The comic mask and tragic buskin lie.—

"Here I may thrive, (or dreams my fancy lure)
"The task seems easy, and the profit sure.

66

330

340

Plays I have seen, and heard the town applaud :"Nor from such models need I shrink o'eraw'd."The Laws of Lombardy my claim allow, "And Percy leaves a laurel for my brow. "What, tho' the Muse her progeny surveys, "Howards, and Settles, of these modern days;

350

"Mores, Cowleys, Merrys, Whitehead, Greathead, Jephson,

"At least acknowledg'd as an humble step-son, "I may inherit, from the tragic dame,

"A child's provision of productive fame.

" "Twas thought, of old, to wear the comic mask,
"Of human talent was the hardest task:
"Mere idle talk, like other silly saws,
"Our foolish fore-fathers received as laws!
“Men, women, children, comedy can write-
"As lying easy, not as gainful, quite.
"For plot and character 'tis now no time;
"Sermons must mix with tricks of pantomime.
"Does Comedy (her fav'rite boast of old)
"The faithful mirror up to Nature hold?
"No-she delights inverted things to show;
"Degrades the noble, and exalts the low.
"Refracted all, thro' mediums false display'd,
"She bids mankind appear in masquerade.
""Tis easier far to break than follow rules;
"Nor hard to copy lunatics and fools.
"Amidst the throng I too may force my way,
"And snatch a portion of the comic bay.
"Tho' rabbi Cumberland, with stern regard,
"Advance to circumcise the rival bard;

360

*Keeffe, Inchbald, Richardson, no rivals mean;
"Cobb, Colman, Reynolds, Morton, fill the scene:
"Yet such things are, and haply I may be,
"The favorite child of Notoriety.

"The managers will sure that aid afford,
"Delusive hope had promis'd from a Lord;
"And give my weary age some calm retreat,

"Where sick of rhyming, I may laugh and eat."

370

380

390

A month sequester'd, at the task I toil; Arrange my incidents, refine my style."What, a whole month (I hear Laberius say,) "Within the fortnight I produce a play. "Correctness, care, and study, will but waste "The fiery flash that hits the public taste."Nature is old, and common sense is tame; "The new, the bold, our play-house Critics claim. "High-minded taylors in my scenes appear, "Benignant Bailiffs, with the swindling Peer, "Th' unrighteous Judge, the profligate Divine; "While Jews and Turks, with Christian virtues shine. "And when a thunder of applause I wish,

"A table I o'erturn, or break a dish *.

66

Enjoy thy laurels, play-wright.-I pursue
"My path to Nature, and to Horace true."
My play compleat, in visions, I behold
The flutt'ring sibyl leaves that turn to gold;
Transcribe the work, and seek, with eager feet,
The proud purveyors for the public treat.
Ah fool, to think my poor plebeian pen
Should win the notice of such mighty men!
Despotic H, Kunpolite-

Himself a Muse !-Oh, most advent'rous wight!
What errantry the giants can engage,

400

That frowning guard th' approaches to the stage? 410 Soon as the tiny horn invades their ear,

The champions on the bridge of glass appear.

"Dare you, to hope the notice of the town †, "Yourself, your manners, and your muse unknown?

* See the Dramatist.

+ Speech of Dramagorgon, the giant, to the knight of the quill.

"Stranger, alike, to templars, beaux, and cits, "To reading clubs, and coteries of wits, "What Poet's corner has thy pen supplied? "What prologue of probation hast thou tried? "Now, hear thy doom, unhallow'd wretch, and weak,

"Our rest imperial thou hast dar'd to break.- 420 "Th' oblivious drawer is gaping for thy lays, "The silent limbo of neglected plays.―

"There shall they lie for weary mouths and years, "While thy vain bosom throbs with hopes and fears. "Thence, late return, unhonour'd, and unread, 66 Thy drama spurn'd, thine appetite unfed."Nor is this all-fair Cowley's page arraigns *, Perfidious managers of pilfer'd strains. And Papendick + bewails his labour lost, His Stranger rifled by theatric host.

430

Thus, by the despots of the stage expell'd, Unhousell'd, unanointed, unannell'dBesotted with the lust of gold and fame, I turn to tyrants with another name. "The Booksellers (I said) that liberal train, "Will kindly nurse the bantlings of my brain; " Infuse their golden opiates, and assuage "The pangs inflicted by the court and stage. "To my glad eyes let Pater-noster-row, "Or Paul's Church-yard, the great Maecenas show, 440

*See Mrs. Cowley's preface, in which she complains bitterly of the manager.

A gentleman, who, while he was resident in Vienna, procured a copy of the Stranger, and made a translation of it before the play had reached England. He put his translation into the hands of the manager, but for details consult the Reviews-head Stranger.