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A PROLOGUE on opening the Theatre at Botany Bay, spoken by the celebrated Mr. B.A. R
RING TO N.
Faox distant climes, o'er wide spread seas We Come, Theugh not with much eclat or beat of drum ; True patriots ah, for be it understood, We left our country for our country's good. . No private views disgraced our generous zeal, what urg'd our travels was our country's weal; And none will doubt but that our emigration, Has proved most useful to the Britsh nation. But you inquire, what could our breasts inflame with this new passion for Theatric fame P what in the practice of our former days, Could shape our talents to exhibit plavs’ orour patience, sirs, some observations made, You'll grant us equal to the scenic trade, He who to midnight ladders is no stran
| And sure in Filch I shall be quite at
yer, You'll own, will make an admirable Ranger. To see Macbeth we have not far to roam, - - - - - - - - -
| i. aft, " " | | l
Unrivall'd there none will dispute way
claim To high pre-eminence and exalted fame. As oft on Gad's Hill we have ta'en our stand, When 'twas so dark you could not see your hand ; Some tiue bred Falstaff we may hope to start, Who when well bolstered, well will play his part, The scene to vary we shall try in time, To treat you with a little Pantomine. There light and easy Columbines are found, And well-tried Harlequins with us abound: From durance vile our precious selveste keep, We often have recourse to the flying leap. To a black face have sometimes ow'd escape, And Hounslow Heath has proved the worth of crape. But how, you ask, can we e'er hope to soar, Above these scenes, and rise to tragic kore ? - Too oft, alas, we forc’d the unwilling tear, and petrified the heart with real fear, Asacbeth a harvest of applause will reap. For some of us I fear have murdered * sleep. - This Lady too, with grace will slees and talk: Our females have been used at night to Sometimes indeed, so various is otty
An actor may improve and mer! his part ; - -
Give me a horse / bawis Ricka's like a drone,
Grant us your favour—put us to the test,
To gain your smiles we'll do our very best ;
And without dread of future Turnkey lockets,
Thus, in an honest way, still pick your pockets.
–4– SECRET CORRESPONDENCE.
A young Lady newly married, being obliged to shew her husband all the letters she wrote, sent the following to an intimate friend.
“I cannot be satisfied, my dearest friend' Blest as I am in the matrimonial state, unless I pour into your friendly bosom which has ever beat in unison with mine the various sensations which swell with the iiveliest emotions of pleasure, my almost bursting heart. I tell you, my dear Musband is the most amiable of men, I have now been married seven weeks, and have never found the least reason to repent the day that joined us. My husband is both in person and manners far from resembling ugly, cross, old, disagreeable and jeal. ous Monsters, who think by confining to secure ; a wife, it is his maxim to treat as a bosom friend——and not as a play thing, or menial slave, the woman ef his choice neither party, he says, should always obey implicitly; but each yield to the other by turns. an ancient maiden aunt, near seventy, A cheerful, venerable, and Pleasant old lady,
lives in the house with us—she is the de- light of both young and old; she is civil to all the neighbourhood round, Generous and charitable to the poor. I am convinced my husband likes nothing more than he does me; he flatters me more than the glass; and his intoxication (For so I must call the excess of his love) often makes me blush for the unworthiness Of its object, and wish I could be more deserving Of the man whose name 1 bear To Say all in one word and te crown the whole—my former lover is now my indulgent husband, my fondness has returned, and I might have had A Prince, without the felicity I find in him. Aou ! may you be blest as I armourinable to wish that I could be more
better acquainted with him. He
“THEY were not content with representing her gentleness and good nature, they praised her wisdom and virtue, to which they paid the greatest homage, These encomiums charmed me, yet must confess that they struck me less forcibly than her beautyCombining all that I had heard of the poverty of her situation, with the detestable and guilty hope of triumphing over virtue which might become weary of indigence, and might yield to my splendid offers, I. instantly set about the fulfilment of my guilty wishes, and was incessantly employed with the means of seducing her.
“I carefully sought and soon obtained the means of being introduced to her father ; I manifested the desire I had of being
received me with a sort of gratitude, thinking himself honored by the pleasure I appeared to take in his conversation. I availed my
self of the campaigns which he
Saturday, May 5,.... 1810.
| had made, the engagements
which he had been in, and the feats of valour which were attributed to him ; and the worthy old man was quite elated with my praise, and gave me a long account of all his military atchievements. This beginning, which succeeded beyond my most sanguine wishes, gave me the means of often seeing his daughter. I flattered her much more on the score of her beauty than the tender solicitude which she displayed towards her father, for the comforts which her filial piety sought to procure him, and the care which she took to alleviate the sufferings caused by his infirmities. I seemed to take a lively interestin her situation, which appeared far from easy. On learning the injustice of government towards her father, who had so gloriously served his country, I expressed a wish of repairing the ingratitude of the one, and of alleviating the labours of the other. It is by flattering people's pride that the road is easily found to the heart. was very grateful for my kindness. These few words emboldened me to ask for more, I made her wo
She assured me that she
understand that it depended entirely upon her to spend her days in happiness, and to procure for her father all the comforts which his age required; that to obtain all this, she had only to agree to the means offered by one who greatly Titica her situation, and whose happiness would consistin rendering it more fortunate. I spread before her imagination all the charms of elegant ease, which are generally so much prized by the female sex, which tempt, so often seduce, and effect a triumph over them. To all my promises I added some valuable presents; I left no sophistical argument untried; but she, calm in the midst of all my splendid offers, listened to me without displaying the smallest emotien, but with a mild firmness rejected my suit; and which, far from having dazzled her, as I expected, she viewed in no other light than that of an insult offered to her delicacy, and which had severely wounded her feelings.I, however, had the temerity to renew my arguments; but all the reward I obtained was, that whenever I entered her father's dwelling, she immediately found some excuse for withdrawing, and did not again appear until I had left it. I now felt the injustice of my conduct, and as a punishment formed the project of never beholding her again. But this was a task I could not fulfil. Herimage followed me incessantly; I sighed : I existed for her aloneAstonished at finding such virtu
ous sentiments united with so much beauty, and now convinced that neither the one nor the other can be too much honored, and, in short, that the passion of love, when joined with these, ought te equalize all ranks, and excuse all the foliies which prejudice and false pride attach to it, I resolved to offer her my hand.
“The next day I opened my heart to her father : I told him the affection with which his daughter had inspired me, and the desire I had of becoming his sonin-law. The worthy man could scarcely contain his astonishment and joy. “What, seriously,” he exclaimed, “you think of my Eliza ; you wish to make her your wife 2' ‘Yes, I replied, ‘ I ask her of you, with the fervour of a man who renders still more homage to her virtues than her charms; and so earnest am I in my entreaties, that your acceptance or refusal will decide the happiness or misery of my life.”— “My refusal,' said he, “that you surely do not fear.” “What! hastily rejoined I, can there be any otler obstacle " ' A very great one, signior; the difference fortunes. You are rich, and I have only a very slender pension, which is not even sufficient to afford me the common necessaries
of life, and which dies with me—
From this you will perceive that Eliza has nothing to offer you.'• She has all that my most san'
a tolerable musician and painter, and also occupied himself successfully at agriculture. I had rendered him some important services, and he passed the greatest part of his time at my house ; his attachment, which I fancied sincere, and his seeming kind attentions, rendered him very dear to me. A lovely wife and a sincere friend, united the tenderest affections; these I thought I possessed, and was completely happy.
“We often took the diversion
of hunting, but my friend Cornelio
left me almost always before the termination of the chase; sometimes he complained of fatigue, and at others a sudden indisposition recalled him to the house.— An honest heart is unacquainted with suspicion : I adored my wife, I esteemed her ; how could it have entered my mind to watch her actions 2 I should have con. sidered even the shadow of a doub an irreparable injury to her. Be sides, what had I to fear fron Cornelio He possessed no at tractions, his manners had nothin agreeable in them ; he was roug and often silent ; I also thougi I had remarked that my wife as peared civil to him merely on m account. Notwithstanding, th frequency of his leaving me durir the chace, and the various pr tences he made use of to excu himself from accompanying r in my visits to my neighbou could not fail to excite astonis ment ; and I once took an opp