Mr. Greenfut. Never: I wonder when it will be over?

Mr. Eelskin. We'd better not go away; the ballet wil begin presently, and I'm sure you'll like the dancing, Miss, for, excepting the Westrisis, and your own sweet self, I never saw better dancing.

Miss Theodosia. Yes, I loves dancing; and at the last Cripplegate ball, the master of the ceremonies paid me several compli

ments.

Miss Arabella. Why do all the dancers wear plaids, mamma?

Mrs. Greenfat. Because it's a cool dress, dear.

Mr. Greenfat. Well, if a girl of mine whisked her petticoats about in that manner, I'd have her horsewhipped.

Mr. Eelskin. Now we'll take a stroll till the concert begins again. This is the marine cave-very natural to look at, Miss, but nothing but paint and canvass, I assure you. This is the rewolving evening war for the present; after the fire-works, it still change into his majesty, King George. Yonder's the hermit and his cat.

Master Peter. Mamma, does that old man always sit there?

Mrs. Greenfat. I'm sure I don't know, child; does he, Mr. Eelskin?

Mr. Greenfat. Nonsense-it's all gam

inon !

Mr. Eelskin. This way, my angel; the concert has recommenced.

Miss Theodosia. Oh, that's Charles Taylor; I likes his singing; he's such a merry fellow: do hancore him, John.

Mrs. Greenfat. Dosee, my dear, you're too bold; it was a very impurent song: I declare I'm quite ashamed of you!

Mr. Greenfat. Never mince matters; always speak your mind, girl.

Mr. Eelskin. The fire-works come next. Suppose we get nearer the Moorish tower, and look for good places, as Mr. G. dislikes paying for the gallery. Now you'll not be afeard; there'll not be the least danger, depend.

Mrs. Greenfat. Is there much smoke, Mr. John?-Do they fire many cannons? -I hates cannons-and smoke makes me cough. (Bell rings.) Run, run, my dearsHumphy, Peter, Bella, run! Mr. Greenfat, run, or we shall be too late! Eelskin and Dosee are a mile afore us! What's that red light? Oh, we shall all be burnt! What noise is that?-Oh, it's the bomb in the Park!-We shall all be burnt!

Mr. Greenfat. Nonsense, woman, don't frighten the children!

Miss Theodosia. Now you're sure the

Mr. Eelskin. Shouldn't we have a little wine, sir?-it's more genteeler.

Mr. Greenfat. Wine, Eelskin, wine !— Bad sherry at six shillings a bottle!Couldn't reconcile it to my conscience -We'll stick to the stout.

Mrs. Greenfat. Eat, my loves.-Some more bread for Bella.-There's a bit of fat for you, Peter.-Humphy, you shall have my crust.-Pass the stout to Dosee, Mr. John.-Don't drink it all, my dear!

Mr. Greenfat. Past two o'clock !-Shameful!-Waiter, bring the bill. Twelve shillings and eightpence abominable ! Charge a shilling a pot for stout-monstrous! Well, no matter; we'll walk home. Come along.

So.

Master Peter. Mamma, I'm so tired. Miss Arabella. Mamma, my legs ache

446

This structure is spacious and handsome, and was formerly collegiate, and dedicated to the Holy Trinity. A row of limes trained so as to form an arched avenue form an approach to the great door. A representation of a portion of this plea entrance is in an engraving of the church in the "Gentleman's Magazine for 1807.

29

Another opportunity will occur for rela ting particulars respecting the venerable edifice, and the illustrious bard, whose birth and burial at Stratford upon Avon confer on the town imperishable fame.

Garrick Plays.

No. XII.

[From the "Brazen Age," an Historical Play, by Thomas Heywood, 1613.]

Venus courts Adonis.

Venus. Why doth Adonis fly the Queen of Love,
And shun this ivory girdle of my arms?
To be thus scarf'd the dreadful God of War
Would give me conquer'd kingdoms. For a kiss,
But half like this, I could command the Sun
Rise 'fore his hour, to bed before his time;
And, being love-sick, change his golden beams,
And make his face pale as his sister Moon.
Look on me, Adon, with a stedfast eye,

That in these chrystal glasses I may see
My beauty that charms Gods, makes Men amazed
And stown'd with wonder. Doth this roseat pillow
Offend my Love?

With my white fingers will I clap thy cheek;
Whisper a thousand pleasures in thy ear.

Adonis. Madam, you are not modest. I affect
The unseen beauty that adorns the mind:
This looseness makes you foul in Adon's eye.
If
yon
will tempt me, let me in your face
Read blusfulness and fear; a modest fear

Would make your cheek seem much more beautiful. Venus.wert thou made of stone,

I have heat to melt thee; I am Queen of Love.

There is no practive art of dalliance

Of which I am not mistress, and can use.

I have kisses that can murder unkind words,
And strangle hatred that the gall sends forth;
Touches to raise thee, were thy spirits half dead;
Words that can pour affection down thy ears.
Love me! thou can'st not chuse; thou shalt not chuse.
Adonis. Madam, you woo not well. Men covet not
These proffer'd pleasures, but love sweets denied.
These prostituted pleasures surfeit still;
Where's fear, or doubt, men sue with best good will.
Venus. Thou canst instruct the Queen of Love in
love.

Thou shalt not, Adon, take me by the hand;
Yet, if thou needs will force me, take my palm
I'll frown on him: alas! my brow's so smooth,
It will not bear a wrinkle.-Hie thee hence
Unto the chace, and leave me; but not yet:
I'll sleep this night upon Endymion's bank,
On which the Swain was courted by the Moon.
Dare not to come; thou art in our disgrace:
Yet, if thou come, I can afford thee place!

With my warm fervour to give metals, trees,

Herbs, plants and flowers, life. Here in gardens walk
Loose Ladies with their Lovers arm in arm.
Yonder the laboring Plowman drives his team.
Further I may behold main battles pitcht;
And whom I favour most (by the wind's help)
I can assist with my transparent rays.
Here spy I cattle feeding; forests there

Stored with wild beasts; here shepherds with their lasses,

Piping beneath the trees while their flocks graze.
In cities I see trading, walking, bargaining,
Buying and selling, goodness, badness, all things-
And shine alike on all.

Vul. Thrice happy Phoebus,

That, whilst poor Vulcan is confin'd to Lemnos,
Hast every day these pleasures. What news else?

Phab. No Emperor walks forth, but I see his state; Nor sports, but I his pastimes can behold.

I see all coronations, funerals,
Marts, fairs, assemblies, pageants, sights and shows.
No hunting, but I better see the chace
Than they that rouse the game. What see I not?
There's not a window, but my beams break in;
No chink or cranny, but my rays pierce through;
And there I see, O Vulcan, wondrous things:
Things that thyself, nor any God besides,
Would give belief to.

And, shall I tell thee, Vulcan, 'tother day

What I beheld?-I saw the great God Mars

Vul. God Mars

Phab. As I was peeping through a cranny, a-bedVul. Abed! with whom?-some pretty Wench, I

warrant.

Phob. She was a pretty Wench.

Vul. Tell me, good Phoebus,

That, when I meet him, I may flout God Mars;
Tell me, but tell me truly, on thy life.

Phœb. Not to dissemble, Vulcan, 'twas thy Wife!

The Peers of Greece go in quest of Hercules, and find him in woman's weeds, spinning with Omphale.

Jason. Our business was to Theban Hercules. 'Twas told us, he remain'd with Omphale, The Theban Queen.

Telamon, Speak, which is Omphale? or which Alcides?

Pollux. Lady, our purpose was to Hercules; Shew us the man.

Omphale. Behold him here.

Atreus. Where?

Omphale. There, at his task.

Jason. Alas, this Hercules!.

This is some base effeminate Groom, not he
That with his puissance frighted all the earth.

Hercules. Hath Jason, Nestor, Castor, Telamon,

Atreus, Pollux, all forgot their friend?
We are the man.

Jason. Woman, we know thee not:
We came to seek the Jove born Hercules,
That in his cradle strangled Juno's snakes,
And triumph'd in the brave Olympic games.
He that the Cleonean lion slew,