In these bold times, when Learning’s sons explore The distant climates, and the savage shore-- When wise Astonomers[51] to India steer, And quit for _Venus_ many a brighter here-- While botanists,[52] all cold to smiles and dimpling, Forsake the fair, and patiently go simpling-- When every bosom swells with wondrous scenes, Priests, cannibals, and _hoity-toity_ queens---- Our bard into the general spirit enters, And fits his little frigate for adventures. With Scythian stores, and trinkets, deeply laden, He this way steers his course, in hopes of trading-- Yet ere he lands, he’s ordered me before, To make an observation on the shore. Where are we driven? Our reckoning sure is lost! This seems a barren and a dangerous coast. Lord! what a sultry climate am I under! Yon ill-foreboding cloud seems big with thunder-- [_Upper gallery._ There mangroves spread, and larger than I’ve seen em-- [_Pit._ Here trees of stately size, and turtles in ’em-- [_Balconies._ Here ill-conditioned oranges abound-- [_Stage._ And apples [_takes up one, and tastes it_], _bitter_ apples, strew the ground. The place is uninhabited, I fear! I heard a hissing--there are serpents here; O, there the natives are--a dreadful race; The men have tails, the women paint the face. No doubt they ’re all barbarians--yes, ’tis so; I’ll try to make palaver with them, though; ’Tis best, however, keeping at a distance. Good savages, our Captain craves assistance; Our ship’s well stor’d--in yonder creek we’ve laid her: His honour is no mercenary trader: This is his first adventure; lend him aid, And we may chance to drive a thriving trade. His goods, he hopes, are prime, and brought from far-- Equally fit for gallantry and war. What! no reply to promises so ample? I’d best step back, and order up a sample. [Illustration] FOOTNOTES: [50] By Joseph Cradock. [51] Cook and Green. [52] Banks and Solander. [Illustration: EPILOGUE TO “THE SISTER,” A COMEDY.[53]] _Spoken by Mrs. Bulkley._