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A SATIRICAL DIALOGUE BETWEEN A Sea Captain and his Friend in Town: HUMBLY ADDRESS'D To the Gentlemen who deform'd the PLAY of OTHELLO, On Th—rſ—y, M— the 7th, 1750, at the Th-tre R-y-l, in Dr-y L-ne: TO WHICH IS ADDED, A PROLOGUE AND EPILOGUE, Much more ſuitable to the Occaſion than their Own.
Ne Sutor ultra Crepidam.
LONDON: Printed for, and Sold by J. River, under St. Dunſtan's Church, Fleet-ſtreet.
[Price Sixpence.]
A more ſuitable, OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE
[]WHILE heedleſs Fops, affecting to be Sage,
With awkward Attitudes Diſgrace the Stage;
Ours be the Task to Paint the Simple Elves,
And ſhew the Race of Triflers in our Selves.
For this unmindful of the Cynic Tribe,
The Wrinkled Forehead, or th' illnatur'd Gibe;
Dauntleſs, We Deign to face th' unruly Pit
So famed for Clamour, Petulance, and Wit.
Merits our own, —from no Peculiar Cauſe
Therefore be Sure we have—our own Applauſe;
Heedleſs of what the ſelfiſh Miſer ſay's,
We venture Senſe—for Poverty and Praiſe:
A Thouſand Pound's a trifling Sum for BAYS.
Yet this you'll ſay is Wrong,—we anſwer, no
'Twas always Right, and ever will be So
But Soft! what Noiſe was that approach'd mine Ear.
Help! Hoa, my friends! my Friends—alas I fear,
Some Dire Event, our ſad Presumption waits;
Fly from this Spot, and intercept the Fates:
For Lo! methinks. Deſcending from on High
The Ghoſt of injur'd SHAKESPEAR Draweth nigh,
With aſpect Stern! behold the BARD advance,
His Eyes, Reſentment's fiercer Rays elance;
Juſtice before him wields her flaming Sword,
and only waits the BARD'S aſſenting Word!
Beſide Him POESY knitts her angry Brow,
And Seems to Ruminate a Dreadful Vow;
Behind, a Numerous frightful Train appear
Rending, with Dolefull Shricks, the ambient Air;
[4] Furniſhed with whips and Stings to Scourge us hence,
And Murder Us, e're WE can murder Senſe:
They come!—"Ye mystic Forms which wreck the Soul
And thou much injur'd BARD—nay do not Scowl,
Nor vent thy heighten'd Rage on me alone,
There's more Behin'd—I'm not the only One;
Illuſion all—tis fled—and I'm at Reſt—
'Twas but the Fancy of a guilty Breaſt.
"Sure 'tis the very Error of the Moon,
"Revenge grows Harſh, and Murder's out of Tune."
I cannot do't by Heaven—I cannot do't:
"Yet ſhe muſt Die—Ay, that's beyond diſpute.
The MUSE ſhall Die—"elſe ſhe'll betray more Men,
Or may be, play her Tricks with us again.
So let us fairly do it Here to Night,
Put out the Light—and then, put out the Light.
Come on my Lads—nay hang me if I ſham Her,
And when WE'VE kill'd Her—let the AUDIENCE damn Her.
A SATIRICAL DIALOGUE BETWEEN A Sea Captain and his Friend in Town.
[5]Gent.
WELL met noble Captain, you're wellcome on Shore,
Pray when did you land?
(Capt.)
laſt Night,
(Gent.)
Not before?
Capt.
No by G—d; 'twas a wonder I landed ſo ſoon,
For the Wind has blown hard ſince the change of the Moon.
Gent.
Pray what News do you bring from the African Coaſt?
Capt.
Why good News I think—I had ſurely been loſt,
If NEPTUNE the Sovereign God of the Sea▪
Had not interpos'd twixt EOLUS and ME.
But what's the moſt talk'd of in this famous City,
Where the PEOPLE are all ſo polite and ſo witty?
So extenſive the Place, it muſt ſomething afford:
Gent.
Why faith honeſt Captain, I know not a Word
That's worth my relating; yet liſt and you'l hear;
Tho' 'twill rather chagrine you, than pleaſe you I fear:
Our GENTRY of late, to their Honour be't ſpoke,
(Who think themſelves wiſer than all other Folk)
Have acted, like People bereft of their Senſes,
For Gentility's loſt when the Player commences.
Capt.
The Player commences! Why what do you mean?
Gent.
Have Patience good Captain, I'll open the Scene:
You muſt know that in London ſome People there are,
So fond of the Greatneſs, that waits on a Play'r,
That at once they turn'd ACTORS themſelves to expoſe;
To the Pity of Friends and the Cenſure of Foes:
Capt.
Lord what cou'd induce them ſuch Madmen to be;
Gent.
Oh you know the French Phraſe, a la Mode de Paris,
(Capt.)
oh then 'tis all well
The Engliſh muſt follow them THO' 'TWERE TO HELL;
Where if Cerberus did not the French Men affright,
(But would let them go viſit the Regions of Night)
Each Monkey, would after them, like a Brave Fellow,
Gent.
As they've done now by playing the Fool —and OTHELLO.
There's a Fable I learn'd it at School Years ago,
I'll relate it, I think it is quite apropo:
On a Time, as (Fame ſays) the Apes acted a Play:
Tho I know not the Date of the Year or the Day,
Nor is it material ſince it was enacted.
And For Apes, 'twas done better than could be Expected?
The Aſſes Soon heard on't and they muſt Needs try.
Yet they uſed this Precaution that None ſhould be by,
But Thoſe Who Were really Aſses indeed:
For (ſays they) they may Laugh? if we do not Succeed;
But our Gentry So Confident bold, and Conceited,
Ne'ver uſed this Precaution, But Fairly admitted.
An Audience of Critics, To See their Fine Play,
Capt.
Then the Aſses In Fact Acted wiser than They.
Pray How Was't Receiv'd were the Hearers quite Civil?
Gent.
Ay, or else the Whole Play had Gone Souſe to the Devil.
Good Manners Obliged, them Somtimes to applaud;
Tho they Little Deſerv'd it:
(Capt.)
I Believe ſo by G-d.
And Pray What expence Might attend this Affair,
Gent.
Why FIFTEEN HUNDRED POUNDS our papers declare.
Capt.
Fifteen Hundred! D'ye Say, Why G-d Dam my Blood
So much Money Spent to do no Sort of Good,
How much more Commendable would it have been?
Since Objects of Pity So frequent are ſeen.
With benevolent Hands to have giv'n it to Thoſe,
And not paid ſo dearly themſelves to expoſe;
Gent.
Faith Captain you're right, my Opinion's the ſame,
For in every Reſpect they are greatly to blame:
Now if I was an Actor, this Method I'd take,
The Stage and its Drudgery both I'd forſake;
Turn GENTLEMAN now, as the GENTRY turn Players
And exhibit a Taſte far genteeler than THEIRS.
Appendix A EPILOGUE.
[7]WHY what a Trick they've play'd me here egad,
Pray is'nt it enough to make one Mad:
Such idle Things theſe Men—Dull droniſh Rogues,
To make us tender Souls ſpeak Epilogues:
But yet I partly gueſs what they're about;
And faith I'll tell, for Wit and Truth will out.
You too may gueſs—but this I know the Caſe is,
The Chaps are all aſham'd to ſhew their Faces;
But ſhame's th' Effect of Guilt—it is moſt certain
No wonder then they've ſneak'd behind the Curtain.
And ſend me here to gild a dirty Cauſe,
To tickle your good-natures for Applauſe,
If I don't mawl 'em for't, Let them mawl me
I'll teach the ſcurvy Knaves Civillity.
Well but good Audience did you like the Play,
Ha! now you ſhake your Heads—and well you may;
For ſure ſuch Wretches never trod the Stage,
Unleſs it were to lull a nodding Age;
Well for my Part, it pleas'd me to the Life,
To hear Oth—llo bawl ſo for his Wife.
Wife! what Wife!—he had a Wife laſt Summer,
And has ſo ſtill—He's only parted from her.
But that's a c—tly Fault—no more of That,
They both conſented, ſo 'twas Tit for Tat,
Suppoſe he had loſt her—why this mighty Pother,
His Monkey F—t can help him to another.
[8]
But ſoft methinks I hear him rave behind,
Bear witneſs all—he ſwears he'll beat me blind:
Why let the great and mighty Hero come,
And beat his Fill—he cannot beat me Dumb;
I'll have my Way in ſpite of Friends or Foes,
I've ſaid no more than what the Audience knows.
FINIS.
Appendix B
N. B On Monday Noon next will be publiſh'd the third Edition, of the genuine Life of Wm. Parſons, Eſqr. lately executed at Tyburn, written by himſelf; and con⯑tains (excluſive of his Head, from an original Picture) his entertaining Amour with the late celebrated Miſs E—ds, both before and after her ſeperation from Lord—n, his Intrigue with the preſent Lady V— his polite way of robbing the Ladies in Newfound⯑land: His Scheme with a Footman to run away with his Siſter, and ſeveral other re⯑markable and intereſting Scenes, with Original Letters, Verſes, &c. &c. &c. none of which (nor his Picture) a [...] to be found in any other Life yei publiſh'd, Likewiſe all his other Tranſactions, that are worthy the peruſal of the Publick. The firſt Impreſſion was ſo well receiv'd as to be all ſold off in a few Hours after publication, and the Se⯑cond Edition in little more than a Week.
Sold by F. Stamper, in Pope's Head Alley, Cornhill, and J. Brooke, at the Golden Head, under St. Dunſtans's Church, Fleet ſtreet, (Price 1 [...].)
Notes
*
Alluding to an account in the Paper of a Play perform'd by Some young Noble⯑men in France.
- Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
- TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4258 A satirical dialogue between a sea captain and his friend in town humbly address d to the gentlemen who deform d the play of Othello on th rs y M the 7th 1750 at the Th tre R y l in Dr y L. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-593B-F