SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER:

OR,

THE MISTAKES OF A NIGHT.

A

COMEDY,

AS IT IS ACTED AT THE

THEATRE-ROYAL, COVENT-GARDEN:

FIRST PRINTED IN M,DCC,LXXII.

ΤΟ

SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL. D,

DEAR SIR,

I

By infcribing this flight performance to you, do not mean fo much to compliment you as myself. It may do me fome honour to inform the public, that I have lived many years in intimacy with you. It may ferve the interefts of mankind also to inform them, that the greatest wit may be found in a character, without impairing the most unaffected piety.

I have, particularly, reafon to thank you for your partiality to this performance. The undertaking a Comedy, not merely fentimental, was very dangerous; and Mr. Colman, who faw this piece in its various stages, always thought it fo. However, I ventured to truft it to the public; and, though it was neceffarily delayed till late in the feason, I have eyery reafon to be grateful. I am,

DEAR SIR,

YOUR MOST SINCERE

FRIEND AND ADMIRER,

OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

PROLOGUE,

BY

DAVID GARRICK, Esa.

Enter Mr. WOODWARD, dreffed in black, and holding a Handkerchief to his Eyes.

EXCUSE me, Sirs, I pray-I can't yet speak—
I'm crying now-and have been all the week.

" "Tis not alone this mourning fuit," good mafters :
"I've that within"-for which there are no plafters!
Pray, would
you know the reason why I'm crying?
The comic mufe, long fick, is now a dying!
And if the goes, my tears will never stop;
For as a play'r, I can't fqueeze out one drop;
I am undone, that's all-fhall lofe my bread-
I'd rather, but that's nothing-lofe my head.
When the sweet maid is laid upon the bier,
Shuter and I fhall be chief mourners here.
To her a mawkifh drab of fpurious breed,
Who deals in Sentimentals, will fucceed!
Poor Ned and I are dead to all intents;
We can as foon speak Greek as Sentiments!

Both