Then, fortune-hunting squires of Bath,
Fine as the Burmese jewell'd Rath,{2}
Pray totter o'er your Bond-street path,
A respite short is yours.
1 I speak of would-be actors (male and female), vain and
incompetent managers, flippant and unequal critics, puffed
and translating authors, in short, of all before and behind
the curtain who have injured, or may injuro, the legitimate
drama. Let the theatres, like our trade, be free, and
monopoly thrive not, and for their success the Spirit will
ever pray; at present, it is "a mad world, my masters;" and
I am afraid Mr. Rayner with his long and set speeches, as
chairman of Thomas's Shakspeareans, will not mend the
matter. We note this to him in a friendly way; seeing, that
he is a worthy fellow, and a clever Caliban, and really
loves Shakspeare next to Newmarket and Doncaster.
2 The Burmese carriage is certainly a curious machine
of Indian workmanship; but it is, we should fancy, mere
outside--fine to look at, but a "rum one to go," like the
be-togged, be-booted, be-spurred, furred, and cloaked half
pays, fortune-hunters, gentlemen with the brogue, &c. that
pay their court so assiduously to Mrs.
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