University of Virginia Library

A word in your ear, Mr. Cumberland, pray—
Not what I say myself, but what other folks say,
I think it just right to communicate—Credè!
Some bitter complaints of your editor G. D.
This confident critic bamboozles the town,
And to write himself up, he writes other folks down;
About the old authors he makes such a fuss,
Yet laughs not indeed at our farces, but Us!
Talks of Avon's sweet swan—Mr. C, who the deuce
Is Avon's sweet swan?—Does he mean Mother Goose?
A player must either be dying or dead,
To have grace in his action, or sense in his head—
One exception, I grant, may be found in the hive,
He praises Jack Harley, who's always alive!
Yet Jack, though he giggles and gallops on gaily,
Is nothing to Vale—may he never say valè!—
Then Lord, what an Egotist! quoting himself!
—Friend Cumberland, look to your profit and pelf,
And take from the dunghill hight critical, no cock
Who cannot puff Planchè, who cannot puff Pocock;
Mr. Lunn, Mr. Bunn, Mr. Pitt, Mr. Poole;
The nobs of the new march-of-intellect school.
Besides this G. D., if the people all say right,
Is not only Aristarch, Poet, but—Playwright!
Which makes him, no doubt, so confoundedly crusty,
For two of a trade—but the proverb is musty.
O blindly infatuate! thus to permit
This Midas in judgment, this coxcomb in wit,
This snarling Gambado on Pegasus skittish,
To gallop right o'er Minor Drama and British!—
Then turn to the right-about (Cumberland credè,)
Your pert egotistical editor G. D.
Or D.G. no matter which, truce to the letters—
And give the appointment to one of his betters!—
If my humble talent might try such a leap,
I'll do the thing well, and I'll do the thing cheap;
If Me you invest with the critical staff,
Why fine me a pot if I'm found in a laugh.
For Shakespeare—I know not and care not who wrote him—
So you'll guess that I'm not very likely to quote him!
And Massinger, Fletcher, and surly Old Ben,
Shall never be grac'd with a scratch of my pen,
They liv'd, scribbled, died—n'importe where, what, and when!
My Jerrold's the herald of wit and romance,
My Beaumont and Fletcher are Planchè and Dance;
What serves me for Congreve, for Cibber and all?
The wits, fits, and fancies of Mister Fitzball!
No question or quack'ry my Thackeray I wot
(What a face for a farce, what a head for a plot!)
Is worth all the Drydens and Farquhars that follow;
So dub Me your critic, and Him your Apollo!
If an author be dull—what's his dulness to me?
In liberty's land sure a fool may go free!
Mine's Dogberry's maxim, (to quote him for once)
Let him go—and thank God you are rid of a dunce.
When I hold up my rod not a stroller shall tremble,
I luckily never saw Siddons or Kemble;
Of all the old school I remember not one,
But I've seen Mr. Serle, and I've seen Mrs. Bunn.
Of acting I yield my opinion to no man—
For buskin and sock give me Cobham and Sloman.
Macarthy's a trump, but Macready's a savage,
And who would see Dowton that ever saw Davidge?
I think Mr. Elton, I think Osbaldiston,
In tragedy quite as affecting as Liston;
And Gomersal, barring he makes but a sorry beau,
I think quite as great as my friend Mr. Horrebow.
D.G. is all quibble and quiz when he writes,
And when the dog barks least, the sharper he bites—
Except when I eat, and except when I yawn,
My jaw is fast lock'd, and my teeth are all drawn.
I'm ready and willing to edit your plays,
Find you but the pewter, and I'll find the praise;
And if you can gulp only half that I give,
You may brag of your swallow as long as you live!
So natty I'll dress when you ask me to sup,
And your mutton is all I'll presume to cut up;
My prose, for your clothes; and your meat for my metre;
Your editor—ay, and egad, your head-eater!
Drop a line to A, with (what in truth, I'm!) a star—
Post paid, and the terms—to be left at the bar
Of mine host of (I lodge up three pair, with my crony)
The Panniers, and eke the Jerusalem Pony.

P.S. If you ask who I am, Mr. Cumberland—know
I'm one of the club held at Miller's—(not Joe!)
No G.D.—be de'ed he! no mountebank, muff;
But a little cock-bantam—Flare up! quantum suff.