"Long before the beginning of this Play," I heard some DEEP ones in the Green-Room, say, They had their fears and doubts--whilst some did quake-- And others wish'd it bed-time for her sake. Do you, our best Physicians, ever kind, } Prescribe our true Cephalic for the Mind, } Of these our Neighbours, and _kind Friends_--behind, } And with it, give a cordial of the best, To one, with deepest Gratitude imprest. For some there are--I have them in my eye-- Will sicken and turn pale with jealousy, Whene'er we scribbling Women wield the Pen, Or dare invade the Rights of scribbling Men; And fir'd with zeal, in dread array appear-- With Tenets from the _learned_ Hemisphere; Thence cry (_kind Souls_) "Invention is the only Art, And mere Translation but a second Part; Besides--_we Men of Taste_--can ne'er withstand E'en Nature's GARRICK thus at second Hand! Then why do Comic Writers live on Theft, When such Ragouts and Dainties still are left? Not richer were, in CONGREVE'S days or BEHN, For now, the Males are Females--Women, Men-- Nay some so _manly_, and so orthodox, Will drive you four in Hand--or hold the Box; And if perchance the fatal Die is thrown, Will storm and swear, like any Lord in Town." But might I whisper in this Censor's ear, I'd prove his observations too severe-- And urge--"Translation to hit off with skill, Is not the province of each common Quill; But by improving what was writ before, Tho' Genius may be less, our Judgment's more; And whilst we paint with energy from Life, The gallant Husband, or _more gallant Wife_, With Tints from living Portraits from the Spot, It matters not by whom related--or begot; And thus, much surer shall we reach the Heart, Than all the _lifeless_ pomp of _boasted_ Art." As such, deny her not--at least the merit Of giving _Gallic Froth_--true BRITISH SPIRIT. And as for you, ye Fair, how blooms the Cheek, How sweet the Temper which those eyes bespeak? No Midnight Oil has e'er destroy'd a Grace, Or Gaming's Horrors found with you a place; But Cupid lent you all those winning Arts, Which at a glance--can warm the coldest Hearts. Check then with me these Censors as unjust, Who form their judgments--_as they live_--on Trust. Nor ever credit what they dare to say, Unless with you they join, and like our Play. Use for a signal then--your Magic Fan, And all the House will follow to a Man; Or should there be a disaffected few-- _A Counter Revolution_--rests with you. TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE Contemporary spellings and hyphenation have been retained even where inconsistent. Two obvious spelling errors were corrected (reception for receptiou; demand for emand). A single misspelling of WILLFORD as WILLORD was corrected. In ACT 2, Scene 1, "then" was changed to "than" in Henry's sentence: I know no other way to shew my humility, than to accept your present