On the HERMITAGE at RICHMON D. Ewis, the living learned fed, And rais'd the scientific head: Our frugal Qus, to fave her meat, Exalts the heads that cannot eat. A CONCLUSION drawn from the above Epigram, and fent to the DRAPIER. SINCE Anna, whose bounty thy merits had [head; fed, Ere her own was laid low, had exalted thy And fince our good Queen to the wife is fo just, [duft To raise heads for fuch as are humbled in I wonder, good man, that you are not en vaulted: [exalted. Prithee, go and be dead, and be doubly Dr. SWIFT's ANSWER. HER Majefty never fhall be my exalter; And yet she would raise me, I know, - by a halter. BIL BILLET to the COMPANY of PLAYERS. THE HE inclofed Prologue is formed upon the ftory of the Secretary's not fuffering you to act, unless you would pay him 300 l. per annum, upon which you got a li cence from the Lord Mayor to act as ftrollers. " The Prologue fuppofes, that, upon your being forbidden to act, a company of country-ftrollers came and hired the Play-houfe, and your cloaths, &c. to act in, The PROLOGUE. OUR fet of strollers, wand'ring up and down, [town ; Hearing the Houfe was empty, came to And, with a licence from our good Lord May'r, Went to one Griffith, formerly a play'r: Is not the truth the truth? Look full on me; I am not Elrington, nor Griffith he. When we perform, look sharp among our crew, There's not a creature here you ever knew. The former folks were fervants to the king, We, humble ftrollers, always on the wing. Now, for my part, I think upon the whole, Rather than ftarve, a better man would ftrole. Stay, let me fee --- Three hundred pounds a year, For leave to act in town? "Tis plaguy dear. Now, here's a warrant; Gallants, please to mark, For three thirteens and fixpence to the clerk. Three hundred pounds! Were I the price to fix, The public should bestow the actors fix. I I pity Elrington with all my heart; Would he were here this night to act my part. I told him what it was to be a stroller, How free we acted, and had no controller: In ev'ry town we wait on Mr. May'r, First get a licence, then produce our ware: We found a trumpet, or we beat a drum ; Huzza! the school-boys roar, the play'rs are come! And then we cry, to fpur the bumkins on, Gallants, by Tuesday next we must be gone. I told him, in the fmootheft way I could, All this and more, yet it would do no good. But Elrington, tears falling from his cheeks, He that has fhone with Betterton and Weeks, To whom our country has been always dear, Who chose to leave his deareft pledges here, |