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mild,
Not stiff with prudence, nor uncouthly wild:
No state has Amoret; no studied mien;
She frowns no goddess, and she moves no queen.
The softer charm that in her manner lies
Is framed to captivate, yet not surprise;
It justly suits th’ expression of her face⁠—
’Tis less than dignity, and more than grace!
On her pure cheek the native hue is such,
That, form’d by Heaven to be admired so much,
The hand divine, with a less partial care,
Might well have fix’d a fainter crimson there,
And bade the gentle inmate of her breast⁠—
Inshrined Modesty⁠—supply the rest.
But who the peril of her lips shall paint?
Strip them of smiles⁠—still, still all words are faint,
But moving Love himself appears to teach
Their action, though denied to rule her speech;
And thou who seest her speak and dost not hear,
Mourn not her distant accents ’scape thine ear;
Viewing those lips, thou still may’st make pretence
To judge of what she says, and swear ’tis sense:
Cloth’d with such grace, with such expression fraught,
They move in meaning, and they pause in thought!
But dost thou farther watch, with charm’d surprise,
The mild irresolution of her eyes,
Curious to mark how frequent they repose,
In brief eclipse and momentary close⁠—
Ah! seest thou not an ambush’d Cupid there,
Too tim’rous of his charge, with jealous care
Veils and unveils those beams of heavenly light,
Too full, too fatal else, for mortal sight?
Nor yet, such pleasing vengeance fond to meet,
In pard’ning dimples hope a safe retreat.
What though her peaceful breast should ne’er allow
Subduing frowns to arm her alter’d brow,
By Love, I swear, and by his gentle wiles,
More fatal still the mercy of her smiles!
Thus lovely, thus adorn’d, possessing all
Of bright or fair that can to woman fall,
The height of vanity might well be thought
Prerogative in her, and Nature’s fault.
Yet gentle Amoret, in mind supreme
As well as charms, rejects the vainer theme;
And, half mistrustful of her beauty’s store,
She barbs with wit those darts too keen before:⁠—
Read in all knowledge that her sex should reach,
Though Greville, or the Muse, should deign to teach,
Fond to improve, nor timorous to discern
How far it is a woman’s grace to learn;
In Millar’s dialect she would not prove
Apollo’s priestess, but Apollo’s love,
Graced by those signs which truth delights to own,
The timid blush, and mild submitted tone:
Whate’er she says, though sense appear throughout,
Displays the tender hue of female doubt;
Deck’d with that charm, how lovely wit appears,
How graceful science, when that robe she wears!
Such too her talents, and her bent of mind,
As speak a sprightly heart by thought refined:
A taste for mirth, by contemplation school’d,
A turn for ridicule, by candour ruled,
A scorn of folly, which she tries to hide;
An awe of talent, which she owns with pride!
Peace, idle Muse! no more thy strain prolong,
But yield a theme thy warmest praises wrong;
Just to her merit, though thou canst not raise
Thy feeble verse, behold th’ acknowledged praise
Has spread conviction through the envious train,
And cast a fatal gloom o’er Scandal’s reign!
And lo! each pallid hag, with blister’d tongue,
Mutters assent to all thy zeal has sung⁠—
Owns all the colours just⁠—the outline true;
Thee my inspirer, and my model⁠—Crewe! Prologue

Written by Mr. Garrick

A School for Scandal! tell me, I beseech you,
Needs there a school this modish art to teach you?
No need of lessons now, the knowing think;
We might as well be taught to eat and drink.
Caused by a dearth of scandal, should the vapours
Distress our fair ones⁠—let them read the papers;
Their powerful mixtures such disorders hit;
Crave what you will⁠—there’s quantum sufficit.
“Lord!” cries my Lady Wormwood (who loves tattle,
And puts much salt and pepper in her prattle),
Just risen at noon, all night at cards when threshing
Strong tea and scandal⁠—“Bless me, how refreshing!
Give me the papers, Lisp⁠—how bold and free! Sips.
Last night Lord L. sips was caught with Lady D.
For aching heads what charming sal volatile! Sips.
If Mrs. B. will still continue flirting,
We hope she’ll draw, or we’ll undraw the curtain.
Fine satire, poz⁠—in public all abuse it,
But, by ourselves Sips, our praise we can’t refuse it.
Now, Lisp, read you⁠—there, at that dash and star:”
“Yes, ma’am⁠—A certain lord had best beware,
Who lives not twenty miles from Grosvenor Square;
For, should he Lady W. find willing,
Wormwood is bitter”⁠—“Oh! that’s me! the villain!
Throw it behind the fire, and never more
Let that vile paper come within my door.”
Thus at our friends we laugh, who feel the dart;
To reach our feelings, we ourselves must smart.
Is our young bard so young, to think that he
Can stop the full spring-tide of calumny?
Knows he the world so little, and its trade?
Alas! the devil’s sooner raised than laid.
So strong, so swift, the monster there’s no gagging:
Cut Scandal’s head off, still the tongue is wagging.
Proud of your smiles once lavishly bestow’d,
Again our young Don Quixote takes the road;
To show his gratitude he draws his pen,
And seeks his hydra, Scandal, in his den.
For your applause all perils he would through⁠—
He’ll fight⁠—that’s write⁠—a cavalliero true,
Till every drop of blood⁠—that’s ink⁠—is spilt for you.

Dramatis Personae

As originally acted at Drury-Lane Theatre, May 8, 1777.

Sir Peter Teazle⁠—Mr. King

Sir Oliver Surface⁠—Mr. Yates

Sir Harry Bumper⁠—Mr. Gawdry

Sir Benjamin Backbite⁠—Mr. Dodd

Joseph Surface⁠—Mr. Palmer

Charles Surface⁠—Mr. Smith

Careless⁠—Mr. Farren

Snake⁠—Mr. Packer

Crabtree⁠—Mr. Parsons

Rowley⁠—Mr. Aikin

Moses⁠—Mr. Baddeley

Trip⁠—Mr. Lamash.

Lady Teazle⁠—Mrs. Abington

Lady Sneerwell⁠—Miss Sherry

Mrs. Candour⁠—Miss Pope

Maria⁠—Miss Hopkins

Gentlemen, Maid and Servants.

Scene⁠—London.

School for Scandal Act I Scene I

Lady Sneerwell’s dressing-room

Lady Sneerwell discovered at her dressing table; Snake drinking chocolate.

Lady Sneerwell The paragraphs, you say, Mr. Snake, were all inserted?1 Snake They were, madam; and, as I copied them myself in a feigned hand, there can be no suspicion whence they came. Lady Sneerwell Did you circulate the report of Lady Brittle’s intrigue with Captain Boastall? Snake That’s in as fine a train as your ladyship could wish. In the common course of things, I think it must reach Mrs. Clackitt’s ears within four-and-twenty hours; and then, you know, the business is as good as done. Lady Sneerwell Why, truly, Mrs. Clackitt has a very pretty talent, and a great deal of industry. Snake True, madam, and has been tolerably successful in her day. To my knowledge, she has been the cause of six matches being broken off,
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