« 上一頁繼續 »
Here (s) Douglas retires from his toils to relax,
The scourge of impostors, the terror of quacks :
I fear'd for your safety, I fear'd for my own;
But now he is gone, and we want a detector,
(9) Vide page 6.
(u) Mr. Kenrick lately read le&tures at the Devil Tavern, under the Title of • The School of Shakespeare.'
(*) James Macpherson, Efq; who lately, from the mere force of his style, wrote down the first poet of all antiquity. (y) Vide page 9.
New (x) Lauders and Bowers the Tweed shall cross over,
Here lies (a) David Garrick, describe me who can, An abridgment of all that was pleasant in man;
As an actor, confest without rival to shine,
As a wit, if not first, in the very first line,
Yet with talents like these, and an excellent heart,
The man had his failings, a dupe to his art;
And beplaister’d, with rouge, his own natural red.
(2) Vide page 6.
(a) Vide page 7
On the stage he was natural, fimple, affecting,
'Twas only that, when he was off, he was acting:
With no reason on earth to go out of his way,
He turn’d and he varied full ten times a-day;
Tho' secure of our hearts, yet confoundedly sick,
If they were not his own by finessing and trick;
He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack,
For he knew when he pleas'd he could whistle them back.
Of praise a mere glutton, he swallow'd what came,
And the puff of a dunce, he mistook it for fame;
'Till his relish grown callous, almost to disease,
Who pepper'd the highest, was furest to please.
But let us be candid, and speak out our mind,
- If dunces applauded, he paid them in kind.
Ye (6) Kenricks, ye (c) Kellys, and (d) Woodfalls so grave,
What a commerce was yours, while you got and you gave?
How did Grub-street re-echo the shouts that you rais’d, While he was beroscius’d, and you were beprais’d ?
But peace to his spirit, wherever it flies,
To act as an angel, and mix with the skies :
(6) Vide page 13.
(c) Hugh Kelly, Esq; Author of False Delicacy, Word to the Wise, Clementina, School for Wives, &c. &c.
(d) Mr. William Woodfall, Printer of the Morning Chronicle.
Those poets, who owe their best fame to his skill,
Shall still be his flatterers, go where he will.
Here (f) Hickey reclines, a moft blunt, pleasant creature, And Nander itself must allow him good-nature: He cherish'd his friend, and he relish'd a bumper; Yet one fault he had, and that one was a thumper: Perhaps you may ask if the man was a miser? I answer, no, no, for he always was wiser ; Too courteous, perhaps, or obligingly flat; His very worst foe can't accuse him of that.
(e) Vide page 16..
(F) Vide p. 7: