A collection of poems on various subjects including the theatre, a didactic essay; in the course of which are pointed out, the rocks and shoals to which deluded adventurers are inevitably exposed. Ornamented with cuts and illustrated with notes, original letters and curious incidental anecdotes [by Samuel Whyte] |
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OCCASIONAL EPILOGUE TO HENRY THE FOURTH,
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 | A collection of poems on various subjects |  |
57
OCCASIONAL EPILOGUE TO HENRY THE FOURTH,
Performed at Drumcree, Tuesday, Jan. 5, 1773, SPOKEN BY MR. WHYTE, IN THE CHARACTER OF THE KING.
- King Henry, Mr. Whyte,
- Hotspur, Mr. Tandy,
- Sir John Falstaff, Mr. Wm. Smith,
- Bardolph, Rev. Gilbert Austin.
Cæteri desunt.
Don't drop the curtain, sir! there yet remain
Some previous points to settle and explain.
Some previous points to settle and explain.
The stated business of the drama o'er,
Tho' now we tread the mimic scene no more,
Possess'd of Power, and vested with a Crown,
Who would not grieve so soon to lay them down?
Yes; still imperial Fancy soars on wing,
And in the shadow still prevails the King.
Come forth, ye living! and arise, ye dead!
(Ladies, they are harmless ghosts, don't be afraid)
Cowards and brave, true men and thieves appear!
Confess yourselves, and pay due homage here.
Behold your King to this bright circle bends,
For here without co-rival reign his friends.
Tho' now we tread the mimic scene no more,
Possess'd of Power, and vested with a Crown,
Who would not grieve so soon to lay them down?
Yes; still imperial Fancy soars on wing,
And in the shadow still prevails the King.
Come forth, ye living! and arise, ye dead!
(Ladies, they are harmless ghosts, don't be afraid)
Cowards and brave, true men and thieves appear!
Confess yourselves, and pay due homage here.
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For here without co-rival reign his friends.
While in the heart of this degenerate land
Frequent and full the shrines of Folly stand;
While covert guile, debaucheries and broils,
The fair addition of our manhood soils,
And foreign modes, and ill-adopted taste,
Lay the rich glebe of ancient virtue waste;
Lo! here the golden age restor'd we see,
And sense and merit cherish'd at Drumcree.
Lo! here, as reverend chronicles unfold,
The Muses flourish as in days of old,
And round the jocund vicinage are seen
Night-tripping fairies deftly foot the green;
Above, below, about, and every where
We trace their steps, their dulcet voices hear;
And every dingle, bourn and bushy dell,
Profuse of beauty, does their influence tell.
Here native roses deck the virgin cheek,
And untaught blushes inward worth bespeak;
Hymen unspotted keeps his peaceful throne,
And Doctor's Commons is a name unknown:
Free and at ease with genuine spirits warm,
Bless'd in themselves, nor meditating harm,
All spend their time in song, and dance, and sport:
But banish the wild rout of Comus' court.
Frequent and full the shrines of Folly stand;
While covert guile, debaucheries and broils,
The fair addition of our manhood soils,
And foreign modes, and ill-adopted taste,
Lay the rich glebe of ancient virtue waste;
Lo! here the golden age restor'd we see,
And sense and merit cherish'd at Drumcree.
Lo! here, as reverend chronicles unfold,
The Muses flourish as in days of old,
And round the jocund vicinage are seen
Night-tripping fairies deftly foot the green;
Above, below, about, and every where
We trace their steps, their dulcet voices hear;
And every dingle, bourn and bushy dell,
Profuse of beauty, does their influence tell.
Here native roses deck the virgin cheek,
And untaught blushes inward worth bespeak;
Hymen unspotted keeps his peaceful throne,
And Doctor's Commons is a name unknown:
Free and at ease with genuine spirits warm,
Bless'd in themselves, nor meditating harm,
All spend their time in song, and dance, and sport:
But banish the wild rout of Comus' court.
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Appealing now to you, bold truth asserts,
Our actors all, save one, have topp'd their parts;
So felt, so mark'd, with such precision shown,
You'd almost swear the characters their own;
But in the Poet's nobler flights, 'twas clear,
They spoke themselves, and were no Actors there.
For instance now, a paradox I own,
Enough to put our gravest doctors down,
We have seen to-night a dear respected youth,
For prudence fam'd, integrity and truth,
Of person pleasing, juvenile and thin,
In braggart Falstaff even rival Quin.
Our actors all, save one, have topp'd their parts;
So felt, so mark'd, with such precision shown,
You'd almost swear the characters their own;
But in the Poet's nobler flights, 'twas clear,
They spoke themselves, and were no Actors there.
For instance now, a paradox I own,
Enough to put our gravest doctors down,
We have seen to-night a dear respected youth,
For prudence fam'd, integrity and truth,
Of person pleasing, juvenile and thin,
In braggart Falstaff even rival Quin.
Such is the magic power of Shakspeare's muse!
Such ardours, friends! your generous smiles infuse,
Tho' all untrain'd, and aliens to the stage,
We cheerly on and dare the critics rage;
Applaud but you, they rail, alas! in vain,
In that the summit of our hopes we gain.
Such ardours, friends! your generous smiles infuse,
Tho' all untrain'd, and aliens to the stage,
We cheerly on and dare the critics rage;
Applaud but you, they rail, alas! in vain,
In that the summit of our hopes we gain.
| A collection of poems on various subjects | |