Epilogue for Mr. Lee Lewes by Oliver Goldsmith

HOLD! Prompter, hold! a word before your nonsense; / I'd speak a word or two, to ease my conscience. / My pride forbids it ever should be said, / My heels eclips'd the honours of my head; / That I found humour in a piebald vest, / Or ever thought that jumping was a jest. / (_Takes off his mask._)

Whence, and what art thou, visionary birth? / Nature disowns, and reason scorns thy mirth, / In thy black aspect every passion sleeps, / The joy that dimples, and the woe that weeps. / How has thou fill'd the scene with all thy brood, / Of fools pursuing, and of fools pursu'd! / Whose ins and outs no ray of sense discloses, / Whose only plot it is to break our noses; / Whilst from below the trap-door Demons rise, / And from above the dangling deities; / And shall I mix in this unhallow'd crew? / May rosined lightning blast me, if I do! / No-I will act, I'll vindicate the stage: / Shakespeare himself shall feel my tragic rage. / Off! off! vile trappings! a new passion reigns! / The madd'ning monarch revels in my veins. / Oh! for a Richard's voice to catch the theme: / ‘Give me another horse! bind up my wounds! -soft- / 'twas but a dream. ' / Aye, 'twas but a dream, for now there's no retreating: / If I cease Harlequin, I cease from eating.