The spleen: or, the offspring of folly. A lyri-comi-tragic tale. In four cantos. ... Dedicated to George Colman, Esq. Author of the spleen, a comic piece, ... Kenrick, W. (William), 1725?-1779. 46 600dpi bitonal TIFF page images and SGML/XML encoded text University of Michigan Library Ann Arbor, Michigan 2009 April 004902822 T49771 CW113824125 K045995.000 CW3313824125 ECLL 0134502900

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

 The spleen: or, the offspring of folly. A lyri-comi-tragic tale. In four cantos. ... Dedicated to George Colman, Esq. Author of the spleen, a comic piece, ... Kenrick, W. (William), 1725?-1779. viii,43,[1]p. : ill. ; 4⁰. printed for J. Bew, London : 1776. Dedication signed: John Rubrick, pseudonym of William Kenrick. Reproduction of original from the British Library. English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT49771. Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2tei.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

EEBO-TCP is a partnership between the Universities of Michigan and Oxford and the publisher ProQuest to create accurately transcribed and encoded texts based on the image sets published by ProQuest via their Early English Books Online (EEBO) database (http://eebo.chadwyck.com). The general aim of EEBO-TCP is to encode one copy (usually the first edition) of every monographic English-language title published between 1473 and 1700 available in EEBO.

EEBO-TCP aimed to produce large quantities of textual data within the usual project restraints of time and funding, and therefore chose to create diplomatic transcriptions (as opposed to critical editions) with light-touch, mainly structural encoding based on the Text Encoding Initiative (http://www.tei-c.org).

The EEBO-TCP project was divided into two phases. The 25,363 texts created during Phase 1 of the project have been released into the public domain as of 1 January 2015. Anyone can now take and use these texts for their own purposes, but we respectfully request that due credit and attribution is given to their original source.

Users should be aware of the process of creating the TCP texts, and therefore of any assumptions that can be made about the data.

Text selection was based on the New Cambridge Bibliography of English Literature (NCBEL). If an author (or for an anonymous work, the title) appears in NCBEL, then their works are eligible for inclusion. Selection was intended to range over a wide variety of subject areas, to reflect the true nature of the print record of the period. In general, first editions of a works in English were prioritized, although there are a number of works in other languages, notably Latin and Welsh, included and sometimes a second or later edition of a work was chosen if there was a compelling reason to do so.

Image sets were sent to external keying companies for transcription and basic encoding. Quality assurance was then carried out by editorial teams in Oxford and Michigan. 5% (or 5 pages, whichever is the greater) of each text was proofread for accuracy and those which did not meet QA standards were returned to the keyers to be redone. After proofreading, the encoding was enhanced and/or corrected and characters marked as illegible were corrected where possible up to a limit of 100 instances per text. Any remaining illegibles were encoded as <gap>s. Understanding these processes should make clear that, while the overall quality of TCP data is very good, some errors will remain and some readable characters will be marked as illegible. Users should bear in mind that in all likelihood such instances will never have been looked at by a TCP editor.

The texts were encoded and linked to page images in accordance with level 4 of the TEI in Libraries guidelines.

Copies of the texts have been issued variously as SGML (TCP schema; ASCII text with mnemonic sdata character entities); displayable XML (TCP schema; characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or text strings within braces); or lossless XML (TEI P5, characters represented either as UTF-8 Unicode or TEI g elements).

Keying and markup guidelines are available at the Text Creation Partnership web site.

 eng

THE SPLEEN: OR, THE OFFSPRING OF FOLLY. A LYRI-COMI-TRAGIC TALE. IN FOUR CANTOS. CUM NOTIS VARIORUM. DEDICATED TO GEORGE COLMAN, ESQ. AUTHOR OF THE SPLEEN, A COMIC PIECE, PERFORMED WITH WONDERFUL SUCCESS AT DRURY-LANE THEATRE.

De te fabula narratur. Fondly miſtaking Spleen for Wit, Still, tho ſhort-winded, all his aim To blow the ſounding trump of Fame. GREEN's Spleen.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR J. BEW, IN PATER-NOSTER ROW. MDCCLXXVI.

TO GEORGE COLMAN, Eſq. SIR,

AS you have done me the honour to make me the ſubject of your dramatic ſatire; in doing which, you have flown off in a direct tangent from the circle of ſcience; you will excuſe me, if, in returning the compliment, I have at any time, apparently deviated from the line of mathematical truth, in modelling the figures of poetical fiction. The force of metaphorical expreſſions is not to be eſtimated ſo preciſely as the momentum of mechanic powers; and yet there may be as much veracity couched under the moral of an allegory as in the moſt demonſtrable propoſition of Euclid. Of this, at leaſt, I am certain that my characters are as juſtly drawn and my alluſions as apt and applicable as yours: Save and except, indeed, your incomparable parallels, which, at the ſame time as they preſerve their paralleliſm, diverge, with a true poetical licence, like rays from a common centreSee the Spleen, or Iſlington Spa. Act I. Alſo the London Review for April laſt.. Happy Oxonians, to whoſe ſuperior privileges even lines and figures pay obſequious attention! Congratulating you as one of the firſt of thoſe highly-favoured geniuſes, permit an humble Cantab to ſubſcribe himſelf,

Under particular obligations, Your unparalleled admirer, JOHN RUBRICK.
GENERAL ABSTRACT.

WIT and FOLLY beget the hero of the piece—The Genius of Britain diſguſted at their prepoſterous union—SPLEEN adopts the embrio in the womb—Accompanies the mother to France and Italy—Our hero prematurely dropt on the road—Modern Italy apoſtrophized—FLORENCE, our hero's birth-place, apoſtrophized— Spleen, his mother's midwife, becomes his wet-nurſe—Found incapable—A ſhe-wolf propoſed—Not to be got—Her ſubſtitute a tabby cat—How the boy thriv'd on cat's milk—Grew playful —Narrowly eſcaped being caſtrated—Is brought to England— Preſented to his father WIT, by whom he is partly acknowledged.—Our hero ſent to college—Shoots up apace under the auſpices of his Sire—His growth ſtinted by his mother and nurſe —Never learns to walk alone—Hangs about his chums—Grows thieviſh and ſucks their brains—Turns poet and paragraph writer—Takes to puppet-ſhews, and goes apprentice to a player —Takes to ſtealing farces—The play-wright's an eaſy trade— Marries a ſtroler's ſtrumpet—Turns manager—Stirs the greenroom fire and ſets the houſe a blazing.—Invocation to the muſe—Woman the ſource of miſchief—Actreſſes all Helens— Painted puſſes—Our hero goes caterwauling—His wife grows jealous and dies of the hip—Reaumur's rabbit and hen—Our hero compared to a bantum capon—To Don Quixote falling foul of the puppets—To Punch, who kicks all before him— He fines his players—Snatches old Macklin's bread and butter —Frightens his brother patentees—Is damn'd as a man-of-buſineſs—Puts metaphorically to ſea—Is thrown over-board for a Jonas—His partners ſet ſail and leave him—Apoſtrophizes the whale and dolphin—Is ſav'd on the back of a ſprat—Is ſeized with a quartan ague—Carried to Drury Hoſpital—Neglected— Dying of the Spleen—Is metamorphoſed into a bat, and immortalized as the Emblem of Folly.
THE SPLEEN. IN FOUR CANTOS.
CANTO I. ARGUMENT.

WIT and FOLLY beget the hero of the piece—The Genius of Britain diſguſted at their prepoſterous union—SPLEEN adopts the embrio in the womb—Accompanies the mother to France and Italy—Our hero prematurely dropt on the road— Modern Italy apoſtrophized.

 I. AS WIT with FOLLY, on a day, Amus'd himſelf in amorous play, As oft he did of yore; So well the ſport dame Folly lov'd, That ſoon the teeming wanton prov'd How late ſhe had play'd the whore. II. But what a miſgot, muliſh thing Time from her pregnant womb might bring, Was held awhile in doubt: When, lo, at length, before its time, In Italy's licentious clime, The brat came ſprawling out. III. For, tho, 'tis ſaid, the baſtard's lot In Britain's clime to be begot, The Genius of our iſle, Foreſeeing of what little worth Would prove the bantling, at its birth, Thought 'twould the land defile. IV. Diſguſted in a moody fit, Againſt th' unnatural taſte of WIT, In fondling with the mother; He almoſt thought it was no ſin The worthleſs embrio, while within The womb, in time, to ſmother. V. When SPLEEN, with her obſtetric aid, Still following the midwife's trade, Determin'd to adopt it; Reſolv'd to make its growth her charge, And ſet the ſouterkin at large Where'er the mother dropt it. VI. From England baniſh'd, ſtrait through France The pregnant day-mare took a dance; Her hag ſtill waiting on her; Officious, as if ma'am had been A Swediſh or a Daniſh Queen, And ſhe her dame of honour. VII. But, aw'd by Angle • erre's Genie, Th' obſequious Gallic bel-eſprit, Soon gave them both a ſweating. "FOLLY," dit il, and then took ſnuff, "In France has lain in oft enough "Of fools, our own begetting.— VIII. "So, hence begone, meſdames, morbleu! "This be no littering place for you; "Accouchez vous a Rome; "In Italy alone you'll find "The characters that mark your kind, "There FOLLY is at home. IX. They wanted not the bidding twice; FOLLY is ſo attach'd to vice, When mask'd beneath virtû, That madame and her midwife SPLEEN, Together in their voiturin, Set off without ado. X. Beyond the Alps, beyond reproach; The ladies now ſet up their coach; When, from a ſudden jolt, As once pope Joan (tho ſince, 'tis ſaid, The popes, tho cover'd, have not bred) The looſe mare ſlipp'd her colt. XI. From pariſh thus to pariſh paſs'd, The beggar's brat is dropp'd at laſt; (The ſimile muſt ſtrike) For, high or low, the rogue and whore, Making the GRAND or petty tour, In coach or cart, are like. XII. All hail! Italia's hated clime! Where every meanneſs, every crime That Nature can debaſe, Where fly ſuſpicion, foul diſtruſt, Malice, revenge and fouleſt luſt Pollute the human race. XIII. Deteſted ſoil! where rankly grows Each vicious weed, the devil ſows, To modeſt Nature's ſorrow; 'Till, ſwelling with avengeful ire, Earth opens wide, and liquid fireAlluding to the eruptions of Veſuvius. Pours o'er this new Gomorrah, XIV. Ev'n Stanhope's ſelf, who taught his ſon Diſſimulation's race to run, And act the part of Mask-all, A character in Congreve's Double Dealer. Was in his morals yet ſo nice, He fear'd that, in thy ſink of vice, He'd prove too great a raſcal.Lord Cheſterfield, whoſe latitudinarian principles reſpecting morals, are well known. He looked upon the vices of France as venial in compariſon with thoſe of Italy. XV. I hail thee, as, in time of yore, Grim Satan hail'd the Stygian ſhore; When, from Olympus hurl'd, He took (there ever doom'd to dwell) Poſſeſſion of profoundeſt hell; Greeting th' infernal world. Hail! Horrors! hail! and thou, profoundeſt Hell! Receive thy new poſſeſſor. MILTON. XVI. No greeting with complacence ſweet, Where mutual gratulations meet; But hatred and diſguſt. I greet thee as the hell on earth, That gave our bye-blow bantling birth, Offspring of FOLLY'S luſt.
THE SPLEEN. IN FOUR CANTOS. CANTO II. ARGUMENT.

FLORENCE, our hero's birth-place, apoſtrophized—SPLEEN, the mother's midwife, becomes his wet-nurſe—Found incapable—A ſhe-wolf propoſed—Not to be obtained— her ſubſtitute, a tabby cat—How the boy thrived on cat's milk—Grew playful— Narrowly eſcaped being caſtrated—Is brought to England—Preſented to his father, WIT; by whom he is partly acknowledged.

 I. SEVEN cities once, like fools, 'tis ſaid, For Homer, went to loggerhead; Viz. Smyrna, Rhodes, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, & Athens. Each boaſting him her own. Leſs quarrelſome than thoſe of Greece, Italia's towns are all at peace; Our bardling's birth-place known; II. Hail, FLORENCE! foul as thou art fair! Thine was our Hero's native air; Thanks to that midwife, SPLEEN! Who now, to make the matter worſe, Reſolves to be the bantling's nurſe; A woeful nurſe, I ween! III. For ah! in vain the puny thing Attempted nouriſhment to wring From out her flabby udder: For lank her long dugs, hanging down, Seem'd as if ſuck'd by half the town; Enough to make one ſhudder! IV. When FOLLY, fearing leſt her child, For lack of bubby, ſhould be ſpoil'd, Bethought her of the ſtory, How Romulus, with Ree his brother, A ſhe-wolf had, for foſter-mother; Whence ſprung the Roman glory!Romulus and Remus, the firſt of which was the founder of Rome, are ſaid to have been ſuckled by a wolf. VI. The country ſearch'd in vain around, No new-milch wolſ-dug could be found. Alas, the ſad diſaſter! When SPLEEN propoſed, as ſtill more fitting,The nipple being better adapted in ſize to the aperture of the bearn's mouth. HUNTER. Her tabby cat ſhould wean her kitten, And ſuckle little maſter. VI. This done, 'tis ſaid, tho ſtrange to tell, Cat's milk agreed with him ſo well (Congenial humours meeting) The puling thing began to mew, And frisk and play, as kittens do, Mamma and Midwife greeting. VII. FOLLY and SPLEEN, now ſaw, with joy, Their ſcratching cat-o'barnet boy, Its wet-nurſe taking after. So playful was the pretty fellow, As e'en to rival Punchinello; The Macaroon of laughter! VIII. They, therefore, thought it now high time To change the country and the clime, And hie for England, over. Hence, tripping back again through France, They ſtruck up a cotillon dance, And ſoon arrived at Dover. IX. Moſt opportune, the little ape. Thus made his fortunate eſcape. His dry-nurſe, an Italian, Having (to make him ſing) begun To work on FOLLY'S favourite ſon, And ſpoil him for a ſtallion. This extraordinary anecdote has but lately been communicated, by one of thoſe uſeful motherly females, who officiated at his nativity.BATE. This reverend annotator is miſtaken, in ſuppoſing a plurality of goſſips aſſembled at our hero's birth. He was born on FOLLY, and brought forth alone by SPLEEN; no other females attending.MARTINUS SCRIBLERIUS, junr. X. Half-made, half-marr'd, the ſurgeons ſay, The ridgil A term given to an imbecile or natural caſtrato. thus was brought away.— Mark but that look of his; That half a ſmile, that half a grin, Speaking the eunuch-ſoul within, His feeble-featur'd phiz! Agreeable to the phraſre "he looks as melancholy as a gibb'd cat," SCRIB. XI. At Britain's Genius ſpit her ſpite, SPLEEN now maintain'd the filial right Of this, her favourite kitling; Preſented him to's father, WIT, Who, in a gay, good-natur'd fit, Half own'd th' exotic WITLING.
THE SPLEEN. IN FOUR CANTOS. CANTO III. ARGUMENT.

Our hero ſent to college—Shoots up apace under the auſpices of his Sire—His growth ſtinted by his mother and nurſe—Never learns to walk alone—Hangs about his chums— Grows thieviſh, and ſucks their brains—Turns poet and paragraph-writer—Takes to puppet-ſhews, and goes apprentice to a player—His Sire and the College diſguſted— Put to the law and turned adrift—Takes to ſtealing farces—The playwright's an eaſy trade—Marries a ſtroler's ſtrumpet—Turns ſhew-man and manager—Stirs the green-room fire and ſets the houſe a blazing.

 I. TO Alma-Mater ſent the boy, A burniſh'd, baſe, Bath-metal Why Bath-metal?CRITICUS CAPTIOUS. From Pulteney Earl of Bath, made a peer for his wit.Sir ROB. WALPOLE. For the extraordinary obligations our hero lay under to this nobleman, he gratefully made him, and his lady, the principal characters of his Jealous Wife. BATE. , toy, That, new, look'd bright and gloſſy; But all that glitters is not gold; Its luſtre ſoil'd, thus, ſoon, behold The trinket dull and droſſy! II. While fondly foſtered, it is true, Apace the ill-weed witling grew, To more than ſchool-boy ſtature: When Mother FOLLY, midwife SPLEEN, And nurſe's milk ſtepp'd in between; And habit ſhrunk from Nature. III. Fantaſtic, feeble, fractious grown, And never taught to ſtand alone On every chum he hung: On Thornton now, and now on Lloyd Two friends and ſchool-fellows of our hero." Till, with the mewling kitling cloy'd, They curs'd him as he clung. IV. Tho, unſuſpecting his intent, They never dreamt much harm he meant, Nor thought cattivo theiviſh; Till ſuck'd their brains, au Connoiſſeur, Bob, Robert Lloyd, M. A." careleſs, call'd his mother whore, And Bonnel Thornton, Eſq.—It is well known that our hero, in conjunction with this celebrated writer, wrote, or rather compiled, a periodical paper entitled the Connoiſſeur, which was firſt publiſhed ſome years paſt at Oxford. The latter having written a number of this work which he particularly admired, requeſted his colleague to go poſt with it to Oxford, and to correct it with his own hand. On Coley's arrival, Jackſon the printer informed him, that the publication muſt inevitably be ſtopt if he had not the copy in two hours at fartheſt. Here was an offer of immortality the poet could not forego! He replied, that having been a bon vivant the preceding evening, he was but indifferently prepared for the taſk, yet if he would furniſh him with a room, pen, ink and paper, he would ſee what could be done. Being accommodated to his wiſhes, he tranſcribed his friend Thornton's eſſay, and delivered it for the preſs in little more than an hour. Jackſon was aſtoniſhed at the rapidity of his genius; and this identical paper making a conſiderable noiſe in the world at that time, the printer, as in duty bound, proclaimed the velocity of his author's fancy; a circumſtance which procured him that merited fame, he never after could be perſuaded, or even forced to reſign.BATE. This anecdote is related, with ſome little difference of circumſtance, in the laſt London Review. PUFFER FOR THE LONDON REVIEWERS. Bonnel, bit, grew peeviſh. V. Diſcarded by his college chums, Alone, he pick'd up a few crumbs, For poeſies, writ for cutlers; Wrote lying paragraphs for news, And verſes, ſo reduc'd his muſe! For chamber-maids and butlers. VI. To Flockton For FLOCKTON, read GARRICK, meo periculo, MAR. SCRIB. Junr. flyiNg next for aid, Begging to learn the ſhew-man's trade, Apprentic'd was our hero; So Punch and Punch's wife, 'tis ſaid, And Scaramouch ran in his head, And Harlequin and Pierrot. VII. At this diſguſted, WIT, his fire, And Alma-Mater both took fire, And turn'd our 'Squire adrift; For, having limb'd This verb is inelegantly formed from the vulgar phraſeology, calling every gentleman bred to the bar, a limb of the law.BENTLEY. him to the law, They thought, to make or mend a flaw, He might have made a ſhift. VIII. Nay, ſo delighted with the child, On whom they fancied Genius ſmil'd, While yet the mereſt minor, To run for the profeſſor's plate, They ſtarted him a candidate With Blackſtone verſus Our poet is plainly no lawyer, by his uſing verſus here in the claſſical ſenſe; our law-practitioners characteriſtically uſing verſus for adverſus.QUIBLERIUS. Viner The Vinerian profeſſorſhip at Oxford; for which the hero of this poem had the modeſty to offer himſelf a candidate againſt me.BLACKSTONE. IX. But humbled ſuddenly their pride By ſeeing, juſtly mortified, Ev'n chums black-ball their croney So have I ſeen outſtrip the wind A racer fleet; left far behind A poor pretending poney. X. At leſſer game, yet, ſtill, they ſaid, He might ſucceſsfully have play'd; Poor creatures proſper daily. In Chanc'ry, King's-Bench, Common-Pleas, Although he might not pick up fees, He might at the Old-Bailey. XI. But, doom'd his fortunes ſtill to marr, The ſtage prefering to the bar, And pert to prudent quibbling, He only ſigh'd for Davy's David Garrick. A proof of the truth of our former conjecture, that not Flockton, but Garrick, was intended in the ſixth ſtanza. Their being both of the ſame occupation, probably led to the miſtake.MAR. SCRIB. Junr. skill In managing the grey-gooſe quill, To profit by tranſcribbling. XII. Bleſt times are theſe our modern days, Abounding in forgotten plays, Through time and chance neglected— Give Managers a fellow-feeling, Play-wrights may ſafely go on ſtealing, And brave the being detected. XIII. How loud and long the town's horſe-laugh With Kelly, Foote and Bickerſtaff, Names celebrated in the theatrical world. At a Joe Miller's jeſt; E'en in the manner if they're caught, How readily excus'd the fault! "Old ſongs and jokes are beſt." XIV. Nay ſo it is, tho paſt belief, Falſe to themſelves, the rogues rob thief;

Like thieves too they 'peach each other; as appears from the following epigram:

On Bickerſtaff's being employed by Garrick to detect the plagiariſms of Cumberland.

If foul the work, as fair the play, The bard ſhou'd 'peach, who robs his brother Blind Fielding, as the wiſeſt way, Thus ſets one thief to catch another. Safe if they make us merry. Sure the loud clap, the noiſy roar, The clattering club, encore, encore! And bravo Mr. Sherry.Mr. Sheridan, author of the Duenna; a fooliſh farce that has already run almoſt fourſcore nights, in one ſeaſon. XV. The drama's art ſo eaſy made, So flouriſhing the ſhew-booth trade, Our hero fond of pelf, With eagerneſs to thrive the faſter, Projected ſetting up as maſter, And ſcribbling for himſelf. XVI. For, of ſome ſmall ſucceſs ſo vain, A paper'd houſe Not a houſe built of cards, or paper'd, inſtead of being wainſcoted; but a theatre filled with written orders, to prevent the ſucceſs of good writers, ſupport the dulneſs of bad ones, and enforce the villainous impoſitions of managers. On theſe occaſions Juſtice Fielding's thief-takers and other ruffians, have been introduced by our Hero, and planted in every part of the houſe, to cram down his own crudities and damn the productions of others.—Were an author or actor, particularly if a manager, the greateſt blockhead or ſcoundrel in nature, or even the moſt unnatural raſcal imaginable, a papered houſe would have the power to protect him, and perſuade the public his protection was due to their candour. ANONYMOUS. had turn'd his brain, The little brain ſtill left him. When now, behold, to top her part, A ſtroler's ſtrumpet Our poet has here ſhamefully broken through that ſalutary, though ancient adage, Nil niſi bonum de mortuis. Rogues and whores ſhould be held ſacred while they are living, and canonized when they are dead.BIOGRAPHIA BRITANNICA. ſtole his heart And quite of head bereft him. XVII. "For ah ! what pleaſure is in life, "And what's a man without a wife? "A miſtreſs may cornute one." Thus ſaid, to church he bluſhing led The bride; who ſoon well comb'd his head; For ma'am was not a mute one. Hence the great affection taken by our Hero for the Silent Wife of Ben Johnſon; whom he took to his boſom, but alas could do little with her. He offered her afterwards to the town; but having injured, in his attempt to debauch, her, ſhe was univerſally neglected. She lies now in a bad way in Drury Hoſpital.HUNTER. XVIII. Now, wiv'd and wanting wealth to get, A playhouſ ſoon was to be lett; The devil ſo apt to lay, Whene'er weak mortals feel within Themſelves diſpos'd to any ſin, Temptation in their way. XIX. Three novices,Meſſieurs Harris, Rutherford and Powel. alike diſpos'd, That for the purchaſe juſt had clos'd, Wanting a manager; As ſuch the trio ſtrait he join'd; All puffing, as they raiſe the wind, That he their fire ſhould ſtirThe expreſſion made uſe of by Colman, when he entered into the agreement, as peculiarly expreſſive of the buſineſs of manager. See "Colman's true State of the Caſe.". XX. But, poking, like an etourdi, Soon (ſuch a man-of-buſineſs he) The booth was ſet a blazing; All in confuſion, actors, ſingers, Burn'd, ſome their feet and ſome their fingers:In ſigning articles in favour of Colman, againſt the other proprietors; the effects of which have by many of them been but lately felt. At which the town ſtood gazing!
THE SPLEEN. IN FOUR CANTOS. CANTO IV. ARGUMENT.

Invocation to the muſe—Woman the ſource of miſchief—Actreſſes all Helens—Paintea puſſes—Our Hero goes caterwauling—His wife grows jealous and dies of the hip— Reaumur's rabbit and hen—Our Hero compared to a bantum capon—To Don Quixote falling foul of the puppets—To punch, who kicks all before him—He fines his players— Snatches old Macklin's bread and butter out of his mouth.—Abuſes play-wrights— Frightens his brother patentees—Is damn'd as a man-of-buſineſs—Puts metaphorically to ſea—Is thrown overboard, for a Jonas—His partners ſet ſail and leave him— Apoſtrophizes the whale and dolphin—Is ſav'd on the back of a ſprat—Is ſeized with a quartan ague—Carried to Drury Hoſpital—Neglected—Dying of the Spleen—Is changed into a bat, and immortalized as the emblem of Folly.

 I. SAY, Muſe, from whence ſuch diſcord ſprung. Sing ſuch a tale, as ne'er was ſung, By Homer or by Virgil— What was't in aſhes laid old Troy? What is't, like woman, can deſtroy, Whene'er ſhe means to urge ill? II. Who was't, to damn mankind ſo civil, Familiar chatted with the devil; Forgetful of her duty? The firſt of Helens, Madam Eve; Who, if we Milton may believe, Surpaſſed them all in beauty. III. If ſo much miſchief one could do, Still how much more might Helens two, And ſtill more two and twenty; For, furbiſh'd up, behind the ſcenes, The frippery flirts all Trojan Queens; Of Helens he had plenty In love as in letters, each rival outvying, Not a queen of his train but he nightly was plying: Untouch'd the ripe fruit hung in cluſters around, As his taſte bade him reliſh, but His female connexions ſufficiently elucidate this paſſage—BATE. that on the ground; Nay how could a virgin with tranſports ſalute him, Since Nature deſign'd theSee note to Stanza X. Canto II. firſt cut not to ſuit him? He feaſted on beauties with rapture and eaſe, As an emmet poſſeſſes a huge Cheſhire cheeſe. BATE. . IV. Beroug'd, bepainted and bedreſs'd, In bibs and tuckers of their beſt, The trappings of their calling, No wonder that, attracted thus, He after every painted puſs, Soon went a cater-wauling. V. So have I ſeen a bantum proud, Strutting about and crowing loud, A feather'd macaroni. Mount this and that and t'other hen, Each pecking him ſoon off agen, Deſpiſing poor Caponi!

Our poet, who rails ſo much at plagiaries, is here guilty of plagiariſm himſelf: this paſſage being evidently ſtolen from the following ſtanzas in KENRICK'S Epiſtle to COLMAN:

By Nature form'd as ill for wars Of Venus, as for thoſe of Mars; In both a recreant knight, From one, like Paris, ſlunk away; Hard labour yours in ſofter fray To do your Helen right. How then ſhould you, behind the ſcenes, E'er mollify contending queens, And bring them to their duty? Say, what can ſuch a thing as you, Between two fierce viragos do, But ſtoop and kiſs their ſhoe-tye. In vain your feeble rage may burn, Or kinder paſſions take their turn; To you alike pernicious, Whether by Leſſey's frown you die Or W—white wench's coal black eye, In extaſy delicious. Should my Lord B—e eſcape, And baffled juſtice bring the rape With harams into faſhion, You, then, indeed, with P—l's aid, The green-room a ſeraglio made, Might glut your amorous paſſion. Juſt as I've ſeen on chimney-top A lewd cock-ſparrow, billing, hop, Allur'd from hen to hen; The fair diſguſted one by one, While he, no ſooner off than on, Was off as ſoon again.

Was ever a more flagrant piece of plagiariſm! It is to be hoped our modern Dennis will do himſelf exemplary juſtice on this writer, in his London Review.

MAR. SCRIB. Junr. VI. And yet a hen, the learned ſay, Will ev'n indulge in am'rous play A rabbit fondly ſmitten.— With a ſight of this decent phenomenon, the conjunction copulative between a rabbet and a hen, the celebrated Reaumur uſed publickly to indulge the curioſity of the Pariſian ladies: it being the ton, for ſome time, for all the virtuoſi, male and female to flock to ſee this curious attempt at propagation. I ſay, attempt, becauſe it does not appear that the pullet's eggs were fecundated.HUNTER. Tell, then ye ſages, tell us why, E'en virgin-pullets ſhould be ſhy Of a caſtrato kitten. VII. Yet, hence at home the devil to do! His houſhold female jealous grew; And jealouſy's the devil. But, luckily, to end the ſtrife, She died; which in a Jealous Wife, It muſt be own'd, is civil. VIII. Partlet, untrod, ſo takes the pip, And drooping gives the perch a trip, And leaves poor doodle-doo; The ſcorn of all the cocker'd race, And with the fair, the foul diſgrace Of all the cockrel crew.

Again we catch our poet at plagiariſing.

C—, a bantum bully rock Calls K—, thus a dunghill cock; While K—, crowing round the pit, Defies each hen-peck'd cockerel wit. But bate proud baw-cock, bate your rage, For pity's ſake your ire aſſuage: Coley, poor cock-a-doodle-doo, Is, by no means a match for you. TUNER. IX. By FOLLY now to madneſs drove, To hate all turn'd our hero's love; Like Quixote, in a rage, In ſpleenful mood, he curs'd and ſwore And call'd his puppets rogue and whore, And drove them off the ſtage. X. The ſcorn of wits, the dread of fools, Deſpotic now the tyrant rules, Fearleſs of dire diſaſter; Like mighty Punch, who in a huff, Gives this a kick, and that a cuff, To ſhew he's lord and maſter. XI. To make his purſe-proud actors feel, He ſtints them of a daily meal Nor ſpares, (ungrateful ſinner!) E'en his old friend the man of Roſs, Who, when himſelf was at a loſs, Oft gave him a good dinner Before our departed hero arrived to the height of his poetical conſequence, his ſituation compelled him to be ſo troubleſome to his acquaintance, that he was univerſally known by the appellation of the Temple Leech; Mr. Roſs's table having always a knife and fork for him, there he was to be found at laſt, morning, noon and night. Soon after he became manager, Roſs thought himſelf happy to engage with him, naturally expecting the turn of the ſeale in his favor for the civilities he had ſhewn him;—and ſo he had; for being confined with a fit of the gout and in conſequence rendered incapable of playing a few nights, the manager ordered his treaſurer to put him under ſtoppages: an inſtance ſcarce ever known before. Mr. Roſs bore it with great temper, only deſiring the treaſurer, "to make his compliments to the manager and inform him, that the deduction was inconvenient enough at that time; but he was glad it did not take place a few years before, for if it had he and Mr. C— would have been in want of many a good dinner."BATE. . XII. Snatches old Macklin's bread and butter, Which made him make ſo damn'd a clutter, And blaſted Kenrick's bays; A little, hypocritical, lying, cowardly raſcal, to pick a man's pocket of a thouſand pound, before he himſelf had fingered a farthing of the money! See the particulars of his raſcality, on this occaſion, in the preface to the fourth edition of my Duelliſt. KENRICK. Vivá vocé. Sharing alone with bards as dull As he himſelf and Hoole and Hull; With theſe our managerial hero, it ſeems, went ſnacks; poor Hull, notwithſtanding his Henry and Roſamond met with ſucceſs, not receiving half the uſual emoluments.COVENT GARDEN CRICKET. The profit and the praiſe. XIII. Congenial ſouls! to dullneſs dear! Smile on, when ſnarling critics ſneer, Or angry judges frown. No matter what the wiſe ones think, A nod's as good as is a wink To that blind horſe, the Town. XIV. The other patentees aghaſt, Now ſtand and wonder how at laſt Will end the miſchief, brewing: For lo, with all our hero's wit, The empty benches of the pit Threaten impending ruin! XV. While ſole director of the ſcene, This ſon of Folly and of Spleen, Whom once they thought ſo clever, Grew only more and more perplex'd; Till, play'd the man-of-buſineſs A comedy ſo called, written by our hero and ſupported by his managerial arts to undergo the lingering torture of damnation for twelve nights together. next, He damn'd himſelf for ever. XVI. As mariners, amidſt a ſtorm, Make vows, they mean not to perform, So pious and ſo civil; Would give the ſaints their ſterling gold, Nay conſecrated candles hold For ſafety, to the devil. XVII. In ſimilar diſtreſs e'en ſo, Harris and Leake and Dagge and Co His brother patentees.. Each ſaint and devil implor'd; Tied round the victim's neck a purſe. To make him ſink, and, with a curſe, Threw Jonas overboard. XVIII. By vanity awhile upborne, Light as a cork he laugh'd to ſcorn The hands, he ſaw the helm in; Suppoſing that, for want of skill, They'd make the ſhip ſoon ſhew her keel; The wild waves all o'erwhelming. XIX. But, ſee at once the ſtorm ſubſide; Of public favour turn'd the tide, While, right before the wind, The batter'd bark with ſwelling ſail, Urg'd forward by a proſperous gale, Poor Jonas leaves behind Alluding to the uncommon ſucceſs of Covent Garden Theatre, after I became deputy-manager.T. Hull. . XX. At this behold his courage fled, His heart as heavy grows as lead, And ſoon ſalt-water drinking, His ſpirits ſhrink into his heels Down ducks his head and now he feels His little body ſinking. XXI. To Neptune, now, in dire deſpair, And Venus he prefers his prayer, With terrible devotion; Each Nymph and Triton calls by name, But neither Nymph nor Triton came Nor Venus nor old Ocean. XXII. Attracted by the diſmal cry, Around him flock the finny fry; (To each held forth his hand.) "Dolphins and whales," ſaid he, "of yore, "Have half-drown'd bards and prophets boreAlluding to Amphion and the prophet Jonas. "Safe to the neighbouring ſtrand. XXIII. "For pity's ſake, then, lend your aid "A poet I, by birth Poeta naſcetur non fit. and trade, "Could once like Orpheus ſing; "Tho, caſt away without my lyre, "And tho the muſes nine inſpire, "I now do no ſuch thing!" XXIV. Then flow'd his tears, which ſeem'd to melt To tenderneſs a ſoft-roed ſmelt, Who yet its aid forbore; When now, upon his friendly back, A charitable ſprat, alack! Convey'd him to the ſhore. XXV. Flat as a flounder on the beach, Sometime, he lay, depriv'd of ſpeech, 'Till ſeen the ſhip away go; When envy, rage and grief, by turns, Torment him, as he chills and burns, Seiz'd with a quartan ague. XXVI. To th' hoſpital The playhouſe: ſo called from the charitable inſtitution, lately eſtabliſhed by act of parliament, for the ſupport of decayed players; to which fund our debilitated hero lays claim on the ſtrength of his appearance on the ſtage in the character of acting manager, in order to diſcharge Mr. Macklin.MOUSE IN THE GREEN ROOM. of Drury-Lane Returning, now, in ſuppliant ſtrain, An object to be pitied! He vow'd that all his future days, He'd Spatter A character, deſcribed by Mr. C, in the Engliſh Merchant, as the doer of a newſpaper. "A fellow whoſe heart tongue and pen are equality ſcandalous." play and puff and praiſe, If once again admitted. XXVII. But ah! his proffer'd puffs too late, His place ſupplied by parſon Bate, That prince of playhouſe puffers; Who gives the ton to half the town, Sets actors up and knocks them down, From kings to candle-ſnuffers. XXVIII. Garrick, enfeebled and decay'd, And glad, tho poor, to leave off trade, With him is ſtrong and clever; He ſwears 'tis all a lie that's told, About his growing fat and old; For he'll be young for ever. XXIX. The parſon ſwears the play'r will ſee, When next he comes from Italy, The ſcheme, laſt time projected, On his firſt return from Italy; when a terrible conteſt aroſe between Mr. G's avarice and his vanity: but, finding he could not gratify the latter, without making too great a ſacrifice of the former, matters were, for that time accommodated.—The advocates for managerial ſincerity, indeed, impute this project of playing only in the preſence of royalty, to that ſenſe of duty; which, they ſay, actuates the patentees of every Theatre-Royal. We, who know theatrical managers much better, know their manoeuvres are not always directed by ſuch motives of duty and loyalty. We ourſelves have attended both Mr. G. and Mr. C. behind the ſcenes, for popular paragraphs, in ridicule of their royal maſter; written immediately after their having obſequiouſly lighted him out of the theatre.THE DOERS OF THE NEWS-PAPERS. Of only entering on the ſcene To entertain the king and queen, With wiſh'd eclat effected. XXX. Thus puff'd our hero's quondam tutor No more would be his coadjutor, But left poor Epicoene Mr. Colman's laſt comedy, altered from Ben Johnſon., To ſhift, as it could beſt, alone; While trembling, tottering, tumbling down, It dying lay with Spleen Mr. C's laſt new comic piece.. XXXI. TO PHOEBUS, Folly now applies; And, on her knees, with ſtreaming eyes, A piteous ſtory tells. Wiſdom, ſhe ſaid, had got her owl; And might not ſhe with ſome ſuch fowl Bedeck her cap and bells. XXXII. "Oh! change my fallen foundling's nature "Into ſome emblematic creature, "Any, except a cat;" A ſmile Apollo ſtrove to ſmother, And metamorphos'd, for the mother, Her ſon into a Bat Here again we catch our poet at plagiariſm. This metamorphoſis is palpably ſtolen from the following prediction in his epitaph above-cited, written on his theatrical deceaſe, by that exemplary divine and reverend poet Mr. Henry Bate.—Speaking of his flight to the celeſtial regions, his reverence prophetically ſuggeſts the ſame transformation. Alas! what aſſailants his march will oppoſe, Demanding their fragment each ſtep that he goes? It the notion prove right, which our ſchoolmen divine, That aloft none in robes that are borrowed can ſhine, When each has diſmantled this daw of his feather, How the devil, unfledg'd, will he waft himſelf thither; For fate will demand (in deſpite of pretences) A full expiation for all his offences; Whoſe ſhafts, left the ſophiſt with logic ſhould parry, Minerva's ſage bird his death-warrant ſhall carry. Winging down, by the breech at one pounce ſhe will take him, And ſoaring aloft, high in air wildly ſhake him. When in penance thus comic, the culprit appears, What ſallies of laughter ſhall run thro' the ſpheres! Nay, as great folks love fun, one may venture the odds, But Olympus will ſhake with the mirth of the gods.— Thus in aether he'll ſwing the ſole outcaſt of nature, 'Till ſome kind immortal, brim full of good nature, Beholding the victim with pitiful eyes, To a BAT ſhall transform him—the tyrant of FLIES. O Imitatores! Servum pecus. MAR. SCRIB. Junr. . XXXIII. All day, perdu, Lo! now he lies, Domitian like, in wait for flies, That cannot bear the light; Haunting, like ghoſts that love to glide Through places where their honour died, The Play-Houſe every night!
THE END.