_The Masquerade_ is a clever comedy, rather free in language and thought, chiefly about the danger of gambling. Some of the sayings are very pointed. It has been stated that the author frequented the principal coffee-houses in town, and picked up many pungent remarks there; however this may be, the literary men who at the present time frequent clubs, have, I am afraid, not the same chance. As a specimen of free and easy--rather too easy--wit, let me mention the remarks of Mr. Smart (Act I.) on the way he passed the night, and in what manner. "Nine persons are kept handsomely out of the sober income of one hundred pounds a year." I also observe the name of an old acquaintance in this play. Thackeray's hero in the Memoirs of Mr. Charles J. Yellowplush is "the Honourable Algernon Percy Deuceace, youngest and fifth son of the Earl of Crabs," and in _The Masquerade_ (Act III. Sc. i) Mr. Ombre says: "Did you not observe an old decay'd rake that stood next the box-keeper yonder ... they call him _Sir Timothy Deuxace_; that wretch has play'd off one of the best families in Europe--he has thrown away all his posterity, and reduced 20,000 acres of wood-land, arable, meadow, and pasture within the narrow circumference of an oaken table of eight foot." _The Masquerade_ as the title of the play is a misnomer, for it does not conduce at all to the plot. We give the greater part of the Prologue to _The Masquerade_, spoken by Mr. Wilks:-- The Poet, who must paint by Nature's Laws, If he wou'd merit what he begs, Applause; Surveys your changing Pleasures with Surprise, Sees each new Day some new Diversion rise; Hither, thro' all the Quarters of the Sky, Fresh Rooks in Flocks from ev'ry Nation hye, To us, the Cullies of the Globe, they fly; French, Spaniards, Switzers; This Man dines on Fire And swallows Brimstone to your Heart's Desire; Another, Handless, Footless, Half a Man, Does, Wou'd you think it? what no Whole one can, A Spaniard next, taught an Italian Frown, Boldly declares he'll stare all Europe down: His tortured Muscles pleas'd our English Fools; [Footnote: In the rival House, Lincoln's-Inn-Fields Theatre, Rich was bringing out Pantomimes, which, by the fertility of his invention, the excellency of his own performance, and the introduction of foreign performers, drew nightly crowded houses--hence the allusion.] Why wou'd the Sot engage with English Bulls? Our English Bulls are Hereticks uncivil, They'd toss the Grand Inquisitor, the Devil: 'Twas stupidly contrived of Don Grimace, To hope to fright 'em with an ugly Face. And yet, tho' these Exotick Monsters please, We must with humble Gratitude confess, To you alone 'tis due, that in this Age, Good Sense still triumphs on the British Stage: Shakespear beholds with Joy his Sons inherit His good old Plays, with good old Bess's Spirit. Be wise and merry, while you keep that Tether; Nonsense and Slavery must die together. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.