| Citation |
MJ.782.025
19 Feb 1782:41 (9/8 442)
AN OCCASIONAL PROLOGUE.
Spoken by Mr. Wall, on the opening of the Baltimore Theatre,
January 15, 1782.
Inserted by particular desire.
Before you, see one of your stage-directors,
Or, if you please, one of those strange projectors,
Whose heated brain, in fatal magic bound,
Seeks for that stone which never can be found.
But in projection comes the dreadful stroke,
The glasses burst, and all is bounce and smoke!
Tho' doubtful still our fate--- I bite my thumbs,
And my heart fails me-- for projection comes.
Your smiles wou'd chase our fears-- still I cou'd dream,
Rich as a Nabob, with my golden scheme.
That all the world's a stage, you can't deny,
And what's our stage?-- A shop-- I'll tell you why--
You are the customers, the tradesmen we,
And well for us, you pay before you see:
We give no trust, a ready money trade;
Shou'd you stop payment, we are bankrupt made.
To feast your minds, and sooth each worldly care,
We largely traffic in dramatic ware:
Then swells our shop, a warehouse to your eyes;
And we from small retailers, merchants rise.
From Shakespeare's golden mines we'll fetch the ore,
And land his riches here in Baltimore!
For we theatric merchants never quit
His boundless stores of universal wit.
But we in vain shall richly laden come,
Unless deep water brings us safely home;
Unless your favour in full tides will flow,
Ship, crew, and cargo, to the bottom go!
Indulge us then, and from our hearts receive
Our warmest wishes-- all we have to give.
May honour'd commerce, with her sails unfurl'd,
Still bring you treasures from each distant world:
From East to West extend this country's name;
Still to her sons increasing wealth with fame:
And may this merit be our honest boast,
To give you pleasure, and no virtue lost.
|