ARE you all ready? here's your music, here. Author! sneak off; we'll tickle you, my dear. The fellow stopt me in a hellish fright— 'Pray, Sir, (says he,) must I be damn'd to-night? 'Damn'd! surely friend. Don't hope for our compliance, Zounds, Sir! a second play's downright defiance. Though once, poor rogue! we pitied your condition; Here's the true recipe for repetition.' 'Well, Sir,' says he, 'e'en as you please; so then I'll never trouble you with plays again.' 'But hark ye, Poet!—Won't you though,' says I? ''Pon honour'—Then we'll damn you, let me die.' Shan't we, my Bucks? let's take him at his word; Damn him, or by my soul he'll write a third. The man wants money, I suppose—but mind ye— Tell him you've left your charity behind ye. A pretty plea, his wants to our regard! As if we Bloods had bowels for a Bard! Besides, what men of spirit now-a-days Come to give sober judgments of new plays? It argues some good nature to be quiet— Good nature!—ay—but then we lose a riot. The scribbling fool may beg and make a fuss; Tis death to him—what then?—'tis sport to us. Don't mind me though—for all my fun and jokes, The Bard may find us Bloods good-natur'd folks, No crabbed critics, foes to rising merit: Write but with fire, and we'll applaud with spirit. Our Author aims at no dishonest ends; He knows no enemies, and boasts some friends: He takes no methods down your throats to cram it, So if you like it, save it; if not—damn it. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IMANUEL EHRENHARDT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE AWAKENING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THINGS ARE WHAT THEY SEEM by MARIANNE MOORE A POEM FOR MAX NORDAU by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |