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INTENDED TO HAVE Been SUNG IN THE COMEDY

OF " SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER." *

AH, me! when shall I marry me?
Lovers are plenty ; but fail to relieve me.
He, fond youth, that could carry me,
Offers to love, but means to deceive me.

* Sir, I send you a small production of the late Dr. Goldsmith, which has never been published, and which might perhaps have been totally lost, had I rot secured it. He intended it as a song in the character of Miss Hardcastle, in his admirable comedy of “ She Stoops to Cone « quer," but it was left out, as Mrs. Bulkley, who play'd the part, did not fing. He sung it himself, in private companies very agreeably. The tune is a pretty Irish air, called “ The Humours of Balamagairy,” to which he told me he found it very difficult to adapt words ; but he has succeeded very happily in these few lines. As I could

VOL. I.

fing

But I will rally and combat the ruiner :
Not a look, not a smile shall my passion discover.
She that gives all to the false one pursuing her,
Makes but a penitent, and loses a lover.

sing the tune, and was fond of them, he was so good as to give me them, about a year ago, just as I was leaving London, and bidding him adieu for that season, little ap. prehending that it was a last farewel. I preserve this little relic, in his own hand writing, with an affectionate care. I am, Sir, Your humble servant,

James Boswell.

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2 O B E I DE: A TRA G E D Y.

WRITTEN BY

JOSEPH CRADDOCK, ESQ.

ACTED AT THE

THEATRE - ROY A L, coveNT-GARDEN

MDCCLXXII.

S POKEN BY MR. QUICK.

In these bold times, when Learning's sons explore,
The distant climates, and the savage shore ;
When wise astronomers to India steer,
And quit for Venus many a brighter here;
While botanists, all cold to smiles and dimpling,
Forsake the fair, and patiently—go simpling.
Our bard into the general spirit enters,
And fits his little frigate for adventures.

I 2

With

With Scythian stores, and trinkets deeply laden,
He this way steers his course, in hopes of trading-
Yet ere he lands he'as order'd me before,
To make an observation on the shore.
Where are we driven ? our reckoning sure is loft!
This seems a rocky and a dangerous coaft.
Lord, what a sultry climate am I under!
Yon ill-foreboding cloud seems big with thunder:

(Upper gallery.) There mangroves spread, and larger than I've seen'em

(Pit.) Here trees of stately size and billing turtles in 'em

(Balconies.) Here ill conditioned oranges abound_ (Stage.) And apples, pitter apples strew the ground:

[Tasting them. The inhabitants are canibals I fear: I heard a hissing—there are serpents here! 0, there the people are best keep my distance ; Our Captain (gentle natives) craves aslistance ; Our ship's well stor'd-in yonder creek we've laid

her,

His honour is no mercenary trader,
This is his first adventure, lend him aid,
And we may chance to drive a thriving trade.

His

His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from

far, Equally fit for gallantry and war. What, no reply to promises so ample ? -I'd best step back and order up a sample.

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