WRITTEN BY THE AUTHOR.

SPOKEN BY MR. MIDDLETON.

WHO wrote this play some might be glad to know, And why a secret---I'll attempt to thew--A certain youth, his name---no matter what, Resolv'd to try if he could act or not, And to be seen by all, by none be known, Fixt on this project to deceive the town, Cautious, or voice, or feature to expose, Poor Mungo was the part our Novice chose. He locks his door, and smears his face with cork, Looks in the glass, laughs, and admires his works He dances, fings, and all fo like a black, An elbow chair, the hamper on his back; Asks of the manager to take a trial, And spouting decent, meets with no denial. Up go the bills, the Padlock now the farce is, So careful, even in black face he rehearses; Curious to know who this same stranger is, We scan each tone and trace the footy phiz. It's Mr. this --Lord that --conjecture, doubt, Not one of us can make the younker out. 'The house is full, behind the culprit stands, Now fear appalls, now hope his breast expands; Peeps thro' the curtain, trembling cons his part, The prompter's bell now strikes

upon

his heart.
Off plays the Overture; the piece begun
Up goes his hamper, Mungo marches on ;
He bows---confus'd, the loud applause he hears,
A generous public diffipates his fears,
Encouragement draws forth his latent powers,
And approbation falls in grateful howers.

Poor

Poor Mungo meeting with deserv'd success,
Now wipes his face, puts on his real dress,
Speaks in his natural voice, and Oh! surprize!
An old acquaintance stands before our eyes.
Juft so, the fearful author of our play,
Dreading the nettle, anxious for the Bay;
With timid prudence, has himself conceal'd,
And by success alone, can be reveal'd;
His fears exhibit some small figns of grace,
Oh kindly bid him thew his foolish face,
Yet if iil-natur'd folks should break his Tor,
I fear the bard will blubber like a boy;
But on this basis ever will he truft,
A London audience is as kind as just.
To please alone, he takes your two hours leisure,
With to be pleas'd is half way meeting pleasure.

DRAMATTS PERSONÆ.

Sir Carrol O'Donovan,

Mr. AICKIN. O'Donovan (under the name of

Lary Kavanagh), ........ Mr. HOLMAN. Aircourt,

Mr. LEWIS. Larry Kavanagh (under the

name of O'Donovan), Mr. BLANCHARD. Alibi,

Mr. QUICK. Methegling ....

Mr. EDWIN. Nol Pros,

Mr. Booth. Pavot,

Mr. WewITZER.

Lady Arable,
Lady Jane,
Sophia,
Fib,
Katty Kavanagh,

Mrs. BERNARD.
Miss BRUNTON.
Mifs FONTENILLE.
Miss STUART.
Mrs. WeBe.

SCENE, Hampton-Court,

THE TOY.

ACT 1.

SCENE I.

A Room at the Toy Tavern.

Enter AIRCOURT and IA WAITER.

AIRCOURT.
ANY of our lads here at the Toy fince, Ned?

ift Wait. Yes, your honor-the crew of your pleasure barge dined with us last Sunday.

Air. Is old Alibi, the Attorney, often down at Hainpton Court ?

ift Wait. Why, yes, Sir--he's now over at his

house.

her

with her.

Air. Have you seen his ward, Miss Sophia, lately? ist Wait. Ah, poor young Lady! he feldom lets

go out, but to church ;-a charity for some Gentleman, like your honor, to whip off to church

Air. Why, Ned, I have some notion ;-but to give you a fimile in your own way-the old black tascal keeps her close as a cork in a bottle: which, get out, I mustn't bolt inward, but turn screw

round

to

VOL. II.

B