Imagens da página


Whilst from below the trap-door Dæmons rise,
And from above the dangling deities ;
And shall I mix in this unhallow'd crew ?
May rosin'd lightning blast me, if I do!
No-I will act, I'll vindicate the stage:
Shakspeare himself fhall feel my tragic rage.
Off ! off! vile trappings! a new paíf on reigns !
The madd’ning monarch revels in my veins.
Oh! for a Richard's voice to catch the theme :
Give me another horse! bind up my wounds !—foft

-'twas but a dream. Aye, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating, If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating. 'Twas thus that Æfop's stag, a creature blameless, Yet something vain, like one that shall be nameless, Once on the margin of a fountain stood, And cavill’d at his image in the flood. “ The deuce confound,” he cries, “these drumstick

66 shanks,




They never have my gratitude nor thanks ;

They're perfectly disgraceful ! strike me dead ! “ But for a head, yes, yes, I have a head. “ How piercing is that eye ! how sleek that brow !

My horns! I'm told horns are the fashion now." Whilst thus he spoke, astonish'd ! to his view, Near, and more near, the hounds and huntsmen drew. Hoicks ! hark forward ! came thund'ring from be

hind, He bounds aloft, outfirips the fleeting wind :


He quits the woods, and tries the beaten ways;
He starts, he pants, he takes the circling maze.
At length his silly head, so priz'd before,
Is taught his former folly to deplore ;
Whilft his strong limbs conspire to set him free,
And at one bound he saves himself, like me.

[Taking a jump through the stage-door.



[blocks in formation]

LOGICIANS have but ill defin'd
As rational the human mind;
Reason, they say, belongs to man,
But let them prove it if they can.
Wise Aristotle and Smiglesius,
By Ratiocinations specious,
Have firove to prove with great precision,
With definiton and division,
Homo eft ratione preditum ;
But for my foul I cannot credit 'em.
And must in spite of them maintain,
That man and all his ways are vain ;
And that this boasted lord of nature
Is both a weak and erring creature.
That instinct is a surer guide,
Than reason, boasting mortals' pride ;


And that brute beasts are far before 'em,
Deus eft anima brutorum.
Whoever knew an honeft brute,
At law his neighbour profecute,
Bring action for assault and battery,
Or friend beguile with lies and flattery.
O'er plains they ramble unconfin’d,
No politics disturb their mind ;
They eat their meals, and take their sport,
Nor know who's in or out at court;
They never to the levee go
To treat as dearest friend, a foe :
They never importune his Grace,,
Nor ever cringe to men in place :
Nor undertake a dirty job,
Nor draw the quill to write for Bob :
Fraught with invective they ne'er go,
To folks at Pater-Nofter Row :
No judges, fidlers, dancing masters,
No pickpockets, or poetafters,
Are known to honest quadrupeeds,
No single brute his fellows leads.
Brutes never meet in bloody fray,
Nor cut each others throats for

Of beasts, it is confess'd, the ape
Comes nearest us in human ihape,
Like man he initates each fashion,
And malice is his ruling paffion :
But both in malice and grimaces,
A courtier any ape surpaíses.


Behold him humbly cringing wait
Upon the minister of state :
View him soon after to inferiors
Aping the conduct of fuperiors :
He promises with equal air,
And to perform takes equal care.
He in his turn finds imitators,
At court, the porters, lacquies, waiters,
Their master's manners still contract,
And footmen, lords and dukes can act.
Thus at the court, both great and finall,
Behave alike, for all ape




« AnteriorContinuar »