Miss CATLEY. AIR.-Ballinamony. Ye brave Irish lads, hark away to the crack, For sure I don't wrong you, you seldom are slack, For you're always polite and attentive, Still to amuse us inventive, And death is your only preventive: Well, Madam, what if, after all this sparring, And that our friendship may remain unbroken, Mrs. BULKLEY. Agreed. Miss CATLEY. Agreed. Mrs. BULKLEY. And now with late repentance, Un-epilogued the Poet waits his sentence. Condemn the stubborn fool who can't submit To thrive by flattery, though he starves by wit. [Exeunt. SONG. 66 AH ME! WHEN SHALL I MARRY ME ?''(1) Intended to have been sung in the Comedy of" She Stoops to Conquer." Aн me! when shall I marry me? Lovers are plenty; but fail to relieve me. Offers to love, but means to deceive me. Not a look, nor a smile shall my passion discover. (1) [Preserved by Mr. Boswell, and communicated by him to the editor of the London Magazine, with the following note : "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 not secured it. He intended it as a song in the character of Miss Hardcastle, in his admirable comedy of' She Stoops to Conquer,' but it was left out, as Mrs. Bulkley, who played the part, did not sing. 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 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 apprehending that it was a last farewell. I preserve this little relic, in his own hand-writing, with an affectionate care. I am, Sir, your humble servant, JAMES Boswell."] (2) [This air was revived and vulgarized in a song sung by the late Mr. Johnstone in Colman's farce of " The Wags of Windsor." Mr. Moore has brought it back into good company: it is to be found in the ninth number of his "Irish Melodies."-CROKER, Boswell, vol. ii. p. 207.] EPILOGUE, SPOKEN BY MR. LEE LEWES, IN THE CHARACTER OF HOLD! Prompter, hold! a word before your nonsense : My pride forbids it ever should be said, My heels eclips'd the honours of my head; [Takes off his mask. Whence, and what art thou, visionary birth? "Give me another horse! bind up my wounds!-soft— (1) [These were probably the last verses written by Goldsmith. They were spoken on the 28th of April 1774, twenty-four days after his death.] Ay, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating, Twas thus that sop's stag, a creature blameless, Once on the margin of a fountain stood, And cavill'd at his image in the flood. "The deuce confound," he cries, "these drumstick shanks, They never have my gratitude nor thanks; They're perfectly disgraceful! strike me dead! [Taking a jump through the stage door. |